#edit to add: would someone please tell her to go to bed the bathroom is too warm and i need to charge my PHONE

[honeysuckle-fae]

I <3 ptsd I <3 locking myself in the bathroom to hide from my mother I <3 feeling like she would just open the door to talk to me if I didn't lock it I <3 knowing that when I was a kid we weren't allowed to lock doors and I <3 that if we did she'd just unlock them with her fingernail <3

[youwouldntlietopapa]

The Words That Were Never Spoken (OC Re-Edit) - Chapter 2

Isobel’s alarm barely beeps before she turns it off. She’s been awake for at least an hour, still lying in bed, staring at the far wall of her room without really seeing it. Lost in her thoughts and the remnants of dreams. Trying to breathe through the anxiety twisting like eels in her stomach. Any thoughts of butterflies passed while she tossed and turned just trying to sleep at all. These are not butterflies. And while her stomach roils, her mind isn’t any more relaxing.

It all feels so foolish. Terrified of her friend. Because she can’t convince her stupid heart that it’s enough to have that much, not to be greedy, to push her luck. But she closes her eyes and there he is again. Painted in perfect detail. Every freckle and line, every hair of his moustache and the moss green of his eye, the dusting of grey at his temples she would give anything to run her fingers through.

“Stop.” Izzy says sharply to no one but herself, forcing her eyes open. It’s too early to be falling into this nonsense again. There’s a whole day ahead and she gave her word she’d be there. Helping him. Not acting like some lovesick teen.

Forcing herself up and out of bed, Izzy walks over to her small personal altar. The onyx Baphomet, a small replica of the one that towers over the altar in the chapel, stares impassively back at her. Lighting the cone on incense in the burner, she breathes in the deep woody smell, the floral notes, and the spice. Letting it wind its way around her mind and her heart, settling into her bones before her morning prayers. The same as always, then giving thanks. Until she’s standing there, staring back into the unblinking eyes of the statue.

“Please…” Izzy’s voice comes out small and quiet. Terrified of being heard and terrified of not being heard all at once. “Please, I need guidance. I can’t let go but I can’t risk losing what I have. I need… something. Anything. A sign. Please.”

Fool. Begging and getting weepy. Exactly what the Old One looks for in his servants. As if he weren’t more concerned with more important things. And you’re here asking for a sign.

She shakes your head and gives her eyes an annoyed swipe. Traitors both. What she needs is a shower, not a sign. Reaching for her towel, Izzy decides a cold shower might be worth it. Maybe that will wash all the stupidity and self-pity off. Something in the ceiling groans and she can’t help feeling like even the building itself is agreeing.

It groans again and Izzy looks up, wondering how worried she should be about that noise. 

Just as the pipe bursts. 

Showering her, as desired, in freezing cold water. Isobel, her bed, her entire quarters, all showered as the water pipe continues its deluge.

“Shit.” Her shoulders slump in defeat.

Someone is knocking at the door and it takes everything she has to not yell at them to go away. Instead she squelches across the drenched rug and pulls the door open, dripping and feeling like a few hours crying might not be such a bad idea. There, smile falling from his face as soon as his eyes settle on her, is Copia. Earlier than she’d expected and every bit as lost for words as she is.

“You’re soaked.” He finally manages.

“Yes.” Izzy agrees.

“It looks like a pipe burst.” He adds, somewhat unhelpfully.

“I came to the same conclusion.”

“Your room is flooded.”

“Copia?” She says calmly.

“Si?”

“Would you mind calling maintenance and asking them to shut off the water over here, please?”

It takes another fifteen minutes before maintenance gets the water shut off. By now, everything Isobel has in her room is soaked through and water has started flooding out into the hall. The small bathroom off the main quarters, at very least, has remained dry and Copia was good enough to fetch her an oversized towel to wrap herself up in. The two of them standing outside her door, talking with one of the workmen sent to inspect the damage. She doesn’t need him to tell her it won’t be a quick fix, but he tells her anyway, and she heads back in to grab her toothbrush at least while she tries to figure out where the hell she’s going to stay for the next few days and ignoring the thought of having to replace everything she owns.

Copia follows shortly after and she’d know that tentative knock anywhere. “Come in, Cope.”

He peaks in, ready to look away if she’s doing anything private. Instead, he finds Izzy leaning against the sink, hugging herself, toothbrush in one hand, and trying not to cry. The day has hardly begun and it’s already a disaster. He scoots inside, shutting the door behind him to keep out the workmen and the siblings eager to find out who’s responsible for the water shut off, and hurries over.

“Izzy,” his hands are on her shoulders and she all but collapses into his arms. “It will be all right, si? They fix it all in no time, I promise.”

The worries of the morning, the day dreams, even her pleading to the Old One seems so far away. She buries her head in his shoulder, giving up and crying. “It’s not just the pipe, Cope. It’s everything… books and letters and pictures… everything. And where am I even supposed to stay? He said it would be days… a week maybe. Or more. I don’t know what to do…”

“Shhh…” Copia pulls her closer, his hand rubbing slow circles over her back. He ducks his head next to her ear and lowers his voice. Sounding as clear and confident as she’s sure she’s ever heard him. “Isobel, you are not alone here, si? I don’t just abandon you here with this shit. You are my friend. My dearest friend. You need help? I help you. Always. We find a way, together, to make this better. Now, please, look at me, tesoro.”

Izzy doesn't argue. Pulling back from his shoulder and staring up at him, looking like a mess and a half. His arms release her so he can dry her face, and he presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Together, angelo mio. As always, no? We find a way.” He accepts her weak nod as a yes. “And you have a place to stay. You know this. You stay with me.”

“Cope, no. I can’t ask-”

“You don’t ask.” Copia cuts you off. “I am telling. You stay with me. Unless you are going to tell me I am so horrible you can’t stand to look at me for so long?”

The smile tugging at the corner of his lips and the mischief in his eyes wins a snort and a head shake. “You are such a pain in the ass.” She teases, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him again. Longer than, maybe, is usual. “But you’re my favourite pain in the ass.”

He chuckles and kisses her temple, hugging her in return. “That is a relief. I would hate to be only a second class pain in the ass.” Copia leans back to look at her. “We find you some dry clothes first, I think. And then breakfast.”

Breakfast. The original morning plan comes rushing back. “Shit, I forgot about the archives. Copia, I’m so sorry. I don’t really need breakfast, I’ll just grab a coffee.”

He’s already waving away the apology. “Keep forgetting the archives for now. How many times do you tell me they will still be there later, ah? Dry clothes. Coffee. Food. I will make it an official order if you need, Sorella.”

That really does get a laugh. “Sweet Asmodeus, no! Not the scary Cardinal voice! I give! I give! Consider the archives forgotten.”

He offers his arm with a chuckle. “Good. I’m fucking starving.”

……………….........................................................................................

It was not the time to be thinking about Isobel in her soaked nightgown. Even less the time to be thinking about how sheer it was when it was soaked. And certainly not the time to consider how cold the water evidently was. Copia cursed himself as he hurried her down the hall toward his own quarters and away from the crowd of Siblings who had suddenly appeared. To save Izzy the embarrassment, of course, and not some private jealousy at the thought of any of them seeing her like that.

“This is all my fault,” She says, glancing back at the crowd of annoyed faces and curious ghouls.

Copia snaps back to reality and frowns. “None of that. You don’t make the pipe burst. You don’t flood your room on purpose. You are not in charge of the shitty pipes in this building.” He looks at her teasingly, trying to get a smile. Anything to chase away the tears. “Unless you don’t tell me. If you are, I need to talk to you about my bathtub drain.”

There is the smile he lives for. The tiny crinkle at the corner of her eyes and the way she shakes her head. The nudge in his side he knows is coming. “That’s right. I’m moonlighting as a plumber. You’ve discovered my terrible secret.”

He laughs, slipping his arm free of hers and wrapping it around Izzy’s shoulder. If she’s making jokes, it’s a manageable problem. One he can help with beyond being a shoulder to cry on. The sick, helpless feeling in his gut that always grows there when he can’t offer anything of real use starts to settle. “Oh good. The tub really does drain slowly.”

The Hallway looms ahead. That most vile of sights when he is with her. The spot where he’s let her go more times than he cares to think about. The spot where she said those words, still echoing in his head. But the sun pours in through the windows and the halls are full of the sounds of people. Not the dark, private spot where his heart tries to beat its way out of his chest just to follow after her. And, for once, there is a real joy in seeing it.

Not as if she’s never been to his quarters. Of course she has. But it’s not the same. An evening of chatting or watching movies. Talking about life or consoling one another over the troubles of the day. Until it’s time to leave. Until it’s late and she says she really should be going, early mornings and work, not wanting to keep him up any later. You could stay, he thinks each time. You could stay the night. With me. Right before he says goodnight and kisses her cheek goodbye.

This time is different. Please, let it be different.

“You’re sure you don’t mind me staying?” Izzy asks, waiting as he unlocks the door.

“Mind?” He smirks while his head screams at the thought of letting her walk away again. “Of course I don’t mind. I tell you already, this is your place, whenever you need. Unless you… want to stay somewhere else? I don’t make you stay if there is somewhere better.”

Why even say that? Why? His mind hisses.

“What? No!” She swats his arm and chuckles. “Of course not. Don’t be absurd. All my favourite things are here. You, video games, terrible movies, snacks. Everything a girl could want.”

For a man who’s dying on the inside, he does a remarkable job of staying on his feet. He even manages to laugh. The door to his quarters swings open and he lets her in ahead of himself, being the gentleman. The gentleman who needs a moment to catch his breath and to make sure his face isn’t giving away every thought racing through his head.

“You look like you are freezing, Isobel. I get you something dry to wear. A hot shower maybe? And I get us some breakfast, si?” He offers and hurries to find something that might actually fit her that isn’t black slacks and shirt or a cassock.

What he ends up with is a pair of his sweats and a t-shirt he isn’t quite ready to admit is a bit snug these days. The rest, he’s sure, she can manage herself, waiting until the bathroom door closes to collapse onto the couch. One quick text to Aether asking for a food delivery, making promises he’s sure he’ll regret later, and he drops his phone on the coffee table. Slumping forward and burying his face in his hands, groaning to himself. Just barely covered by the sound of the shower starting in the next room.

It wasn’t the soaked nightgown. Not really. Not when his mind races back to the memory. It was the look on her face. That defeated look, the hurt in her eyes. It was the desperate, overwhelming urge to hold her tightly and keep her safe from anything or anyone who would make her look that way. It was Izzy, leaning against his side because she needed comfort and found it in him. It was the way she shook and cried, and trusted him to be strong when she couldn’t be. It was everything. Holding her close and feeling, for once, like he’d found something he could do, with every ounce of himself, that he could be proud of, that he could devote himself to.

[staysluttymyfriends97]

Im giving this a try and I have never been so scared

Soo.... I have made a thing. A one shot if you will. I have never done this before I have only really been the person who gave out ideas, never been the one to write it out. So with that being said be nice to me. And there will be selling erros you can of course thank my dyslexia for that one lol

This is a Henry cavil one  shot of course  

Part Two 

Henry Cavil X actress!Reader 

Warnings: description of sex (nothing super crazy, its in a memory) 

I check the time once more after stepping out of the bathroom. It was 8:45pm. I have 15 minutes of free time before I want to go to bed. Having a full day of press was draining me and an early bedtime is my gift to myself. Even though I know I will be spending that free time down that rabbit hole that is tik tok. I could already predict  I was going to be seeing a lot of edits of myself in interview from today. The knock on my door pulls me from my never ending  thoughts on how I really think today's press went . I look down at my phone to see that it is indeed  8:47pm. With a grunt I walk to the door to see who it could be . I had asked everyone on my press team , for no updates on tomorrow's schedule after 8:30, even when I had a feeling it was going to be for nothing. I didn't want to think it would only take 15 minutes for them to find something that they felt was  “need to know”.  I desperately don’t want to go over anything new. My social battery has run dry today. The thought of one more talk about tomorrow's full day will make me cry.  I am worn out, worn down and ready for bed. I already have it in my head. I'm going to give the okay on anything they say to me. An interview on the moon? Sure, go book the flight. I will say whatever gets me to bed faster. I swing the door open expecting to see someone from my team standing there ,its normally Jess, ready to give me bad news.  Who I wasn’t expecting to see was Zendaya. She has a look on her face I can't quite place. “Whats  wrong Tom say something stupid again?” I gave a light chuckle after hopping to break the worried look I could see building on her face. She pushes past me without saying a word. My eyebrows knot as I am trying to put together how to proceed with the sustion. “No by all means come in,”  I called back to her as I peak my head into the hallway fully expecting to see Tom  running after her down the hotel hallway. I walk back into my room to see her pacing around the foot of my bed. Now I'm starting to worry. After two Spiderman movies together and many other projects I have never seen her this worked up.  She was ,for the most part, a very unflappable friend. Anything you said to her ,no matter how direr ,was taken on with an air of confidence . One could feel like nothing was going to go wrong once talking something out with her. No stunt was too crazy, no scene was too hard. Her confidence was just there ready to be poured into you. 

 “Zen you are going to have to tell me what's going on” I say to  her as I walk over,  placing  my hands on her shoulder getting her to stop her moving around. “I told your team I was the one who wanted to tell you this. But I don't know how to tell you this” she moved so she is looking at me head on now. “Well Doesn't that just make me feel warm and cozy?” hearing myself sound so sarcastic off the jump i add “Sorry, as you were saying.”   

“I’m trying to be serious here Y/n.” her tone was a little more urgent this time. “Well knock it off, you're making me nervous and sarcasm is all I got.” I tell her as I move to sit on the edge of my bed. The way she is acting and how she sounds, makes me feel like I will need to be sitting for whatever is coming next. “You are acting like something really bad is about to happen so just take it from the top please.”I tell her as I cross my legs in my lap. Getting myself even more ready for whatever is going on. 

She leans back so she is sitting on top of the dresser behind her. Then she lets out a deep sigh as she looks upward, then moves her focus back to me. “So me and Tom were looking over who was going to be a guest with us on the show tomorrow. Because they sent a last minute email saying who it would be  ” I stop her before she can move on. 

“ What show? The Graham Norton show?” I ask. “Yes, the Graham Norton show” Zen rushed out the answer. 

 “It should be only me, you and Tom. Because I was the last add on they needed to feel all the seats ,” I told her this as it was a matter of fact. Even though I know she is about to tell me my facts are wrong. She let out another deep breath, giving me the feeling she was starting to get annoyed with my two interruptions  so far. “Well yes Y/N, that was 2 hours ago. There has been a last minute addition.”

 With that she  stopped moving, and speaking. For a moment it looked like she stopped breathing as well. She was looking  at me like I was supposed to know who it was just by seeing  her in distress. “Am I to guess who it is?”I tried my best to make my voice sound calm. Her uneasiness was all starting to come together. My brain  put together that there was only one person who could stress her out like this. My mind  was also putting together her  stress wasn’t for herself, it was for me. “It’s him Y/N”. I need more from her. I need her to say his name. “Why?” was the only question my brain could come up with. I didn’t want her to say the “who” yet. I needed more time. I hope by the end of this answer I will be ready. “His Netflix show. And the whole thing about having a  DC superhero in the same room and a marvel superhero.”  I know now  it could only be that one  person.  “ In a world of Hims Zen, I am going to need you to say it.” For the first time tonight she broke eye contact with me. That was all I really needed to know that I was right. The need for her to say his name so I don't have to is to much. I need it to be said out loud. “It's Henry,” she let out a breath this time that sounded more like a sign of relief. Like she didn't have to keep it in anymore, the hard part was over for her. My head was reeling just by his name alone. I was trying my best to keep my face even. I have to act like this wasn't getting to me. Like I didn't think that his name alone was enough to bring me to my knees, what was tomorrow going to be like. In the same room. Breathing the same air. I don’t want her to see how much just his name affected me. I know that if I showed that I was upset, she would stay with me all night. As much as I loved her I didn't want her to see me like that again. Last time was too much for the both of us. “Thank you for telling me.” I move to get up from my spot on the bed. Taking my hand she pulls on it a bit to get me to look up at her. When my eyes meet I can see she is about to say something so I stop her before she does. “I’m going to be okay. Everything will be fine.” I couldn't quite tell if I am saying that for her or for me. I am going to be okay. I am going to be just fine. I will see him tomorrow, I will live through it. “Y/N/N do lie to me to get me out of here faster so you can cry on your own.” I breathe in deep. I should have seen it coming that she wasn't going to believe me. “It was just six months ago you showed up at my doorstep crying so hard you couldn't breathe right.” I didn’t want to correct her but my need to make this sucation funny got the best of me. “It was Tom’s mothers doorstep. You  just happened to be there.” She gave me a leveling stair. “ You know you are proving my point right now, right?” I knew this, yes. So all I did was nod my head. “Please, I want to be alone. I also don’t want to be rude because you are being the best friend any girl could ask for right  now.” I know she knows I meant it . I needed to say it anyway. “Go back to your boyfriend's room because that's where you were when you got the news. And just be with him. I will see you in the morning. Most likely with eyes so puffy the make-up team will hate me.” There goes my trying to be funny again. Zendaya didn't let go of my hand or make any kind of move. “I mean it, go. I will be fine.” She got it this time. She started to move to the door. Zendaya turned back to me  before she reached up for the handle. “I will be in my room if you need me.” I started to shake my head. “ Don’t do that. Go back to him . I'm in no mood to leave this room.” She gave me a nod before she finally made her leave. I know it was hurting her to not stay with me so she could “help me”. I am in no mood to be helped. Six months ago my heart was ripped out of my chest.  I grab my phone then make my way around the room turning every light off. I use my phone to light my way back to the bed. I lay on my back in the dark. I know I will not be able to sleep just yet . So I just stare up at the ceiling. And just like most nights when I can not sleep I hear his voice. “I just don’t feel the same way you do”. It's like an echo that keeps repeating. Over and over. This time I allow myself to think about before that moment. Not to think about the words said that morning. Just to think of that night.  I close my eyes so I can see it. So I can see myself laughing with his family. So I can remember that feeling of belonging there. To see the look on his mom's face every time she catches him looking at me. The joy she had in her eyes. The way she would pull me aside to tell me the name of her mother and grandmother “Just in case” she would always say  then give me a wink. I push past the sadness of never getting to see his family again. To not talk to his mom again.I just need to get past that. I fight with my brain just a little longer till  I can see it.  Like an out of body experience I can see it. Me just standing there in this childhood bedroom. Watching him as he takes pillows off his bed so he can sleep on the floor. “Hen don’t I can sleep on the floor. Plus I heard all the kids are going to want you to play ball with them tomorrow so you don't need to have a sore back.” he made no move to stop. Full of some kind of courgette I walk to him and take the pillows out of his hand. 

“We can share the bed, the world won't end if we do.” My eyes shoot open as I remember my own words. Man was I wrong. I take in the dark room around me. 

This wasn't the part I wanted to relive. I close my eyes again. I need the moment after that. I needed it when I got him to lay in the same bed as me. Then because once again my brain was trying to help me I was there.  I could see it. Him and I layed face to face. 

Even in a darken room I knew he was looking at me. After six years of just being his friend with two of those years being so in love with him it hurt. I was there with him. I would have been just fine if this is how it stayed. If he made no move farther than that. I take a deep breath in as I remember feeling the air change between us. I move my own hand to my cheek  as I try to remember how his hand felt when he did the same. If there was one feeling I want to have for the rest of my life it was the feeling of his hand on cheek  as he moved his thumb slowly against it. He was stroking my face so softly I remember closing my eyes so I could focus just on that. Then the true turn happened. He moved his thumb ever so slowly to my lips. It just took one swipe across my bottom lip for me to inhale deeply. With the exhale was a whimper of “Please”.  That's all it took before his lips found mine. I curse at myself for not remembering how every second went after that. I can remember the pull of clothes and them being dropped to the floor. I can remember him on top of him. I can remember the look of question he gave me before he fully pushed into me. How I bucked my hips up to him, my way of begging. That smile  that went across his face. The moan let out once he was fully in. That feeling of his hand covering my mouth. I can remember his whispers of “keep your eyes on me” “please do close your eyes” and it gets me every time I think about it. “That’s my girl”. He kept saying it and my response was the same every time, my hands would tighten whatever part of him I was holding. Then my brain brings me to the part of that night that confuses me the most. The part of us just holding each other. No words just my head on his chest with him rubbing shapes onto my back with his fingertips. As I fell asleep I heard the words “that’s it, I got you”. 

I jolt back up in bed. Why on earth would he say that? Why would he say he got me when in fact did not get me. I check my phone to see how long I have been stuck in my day dream. 9:30. Well this has been the shortest amount of time I have been stuck in my thoughts thinking about that night. So I will call this a win. I lay down with a hugh. I try to keep my brain on the night not the morning. I have come to the fact, after 6 months of this, I would rather go to bed confused and horny than sad and feeling alone. But, as with most nights my brain can’t help itself. It can see it. Me telling him I love him. That I have been in love with him for years. Telling him that last night was everything I have ever wanted and needed. That I wanted to spend the rest of my night with that feeling. I can see him standing there, every part of him looked like he was about to say the same thing. Every part but his mouth. That stupid part of him that told me “Don’t, Just Please don’t, We can’t” His eyes that have always given him away was scream that he loved me back, but his mouth was getting in the way of that. With that I ran. I didn't want to hear any lie he was about to come up with. 

With that last part of the story done, I close my eyes, falling into a, hopefully , dreamless sleep.

Tada!!! And she is done. There will be a part two I just wanted to get this one out of the way. If you have any questions please let me know. And please if you like or even love it share it with your friend and of course give it a like. 

Have a good day all!! And thank you for reading!

[sxdmoonchxld]

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

_________________________________________

Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room.  Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face. 

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room. 

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function. 

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over. 

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time. 

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice. 

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name. 

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. 

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"  

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!" 

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place. 

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you. 

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you. 

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm. 

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it. 

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you. 

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist. 

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care. 

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage. 

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more. 

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips. 

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward. 

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans. 

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples. 

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking. 

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook? 

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst. 

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls. 

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt. 

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach. 

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper. 

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

 "Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants. 

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. 

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror. 

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story. 

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.' 

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock. 

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust. 

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook.  You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix. 

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

[something-tofightfor]

The ABC’s of Ezra (Prospect)

I am absolutely terrified to post this, first of all. But @the-blind-assassin-12 has been absolutely enabling me the entire time that I’ve been working on it. 

It’s long. It’s explicit. It’s thorough. It’s Ezra. The emotions that I feel for this man are overwhelming, and I wanted to do right by him and expand his backstory and my take on the character before I even begin to work on the accompanying story ... but this is the Ezra you’ll get to know when you read the series “Starlight” that I’m working on currently.  Please enjoy. Start to fall in love with him the same way I did the first time I saw his smirk through that suit’s helmet, or the first time Reader did when she watched him take the podium in her lecture. 

You won’t regret it. 

** I’m working on a playlist that will accompany this and Starlight. Look for it within the next couple days. ** (always accepting songs to add. Just let me know if you have any suggestions!)

Rating: NSFW. This is not for anyone under 18. 

Pairing: Ezra x Reader-insert character (Starlight Universe; female)

Word Count: 12,892 (And I won’t apologize for a single one of them.)

Author’s Note: A lot of these will be two part answers - before the Green Moon, and after the time Ezra spent away from his ‘home’ planet. 

I HC that while he isn’t from the Ephrate, that’s where he spent the majority of his adult life - and where he met you, at a university on-planet… so he considers it home, and it was always his goal to return when he was done with his prospecting years. 

I know that after reading this, you’ll probably have a lot more questions about my version of Ezra that weren’t answered here - hopefully, I’ll be able to answer them moving forward. Send away if you want to know! 

Most of these tend to lean on the highly smutty side, but there are a few that include much more generalized personality traits.

(shitty blonde streak editing and enhancement done to this picture by me, myself and I)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

 Just looking at him, you’d think that Ezra wouldn’t like hanging around after sex, but the exact opposite is true. 

 Ezra loves to lay with you. Sometimes, he’ll wrap an arm around you,lips traveling over any area of exposed skin he can find with them. He’s partial to your shoulders, no matter whether he’s got his chest pressed to your back, or you’re facing each other. Ezra’s a very tactile man, and loves to keep the connection going even after the actual act is done. You quickly learned that for him, sex was not the most important aspect of the relationship, even though it was one of his favorites.

 One of the things that kept you company - even while he was gone - was the memory of the hours you spent in bed together; day or night, winter or summer - with him right there, skin warm against yours, the sheets tinged with the scent of the two of you together and the sound of your voices mixing together as you spoke.

 But it wasn’t just the man’s lingering presence that you enjoyed, it was the things you talked about after sex that made you realize that you loved him. He’d take care of you, and then ensure that the two of you were cleaned up “to his satisfaction” (the line always delivered with a smirk and one raised eyebrow) and then you’d lay with each other until you fell asleep, talking about everything but your relationship. He wanted to learn about you - and wanted you to learn about him, to find out about the things that you had in common, and even though he tried to hide it a lot of the time, Ezra was downright vulnerable in bed, and unafraid to show that side of himself to you, even after he returned home for the last time. 

 B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

 Ezra’s favorite thing about himself is the way he thinks, so… his mind. And it’s been that way for as long as he can remember. Does that sound conceited? Yes. Does he care? No. 

 Education is appealing to him - he likes knowing things. He likes knowing that he’s the smartest person in the room (as long as you’re not there) and knowing that if there’s an answer for it  (whatever it is)… he can find it. And he will. Education - being capable and understanding things - was always the most important task to him, even growing up, and he doesn’t take the opportunity to learn for granted. He retains information very well - and not just academic information, either. He knows what to look for when it comes to your body, what each facial expression you make means, what you’re going to do when you put your hands on him… and even sometimes before, too. 

 His favorite part of you? Your mouth. Specifically, your lips and the way they look when you’re smiling at him. You could be smiling at anyone, saying their name, teeth digging into the corner of your lip while you listen to them … and yet you’re choosing to look at him. 

 He remembers the way they felt the first time you kissed him, remembers the way they moved the first time you told him that you loved him, and the way that they parted - your jaw dropping as you saw him standing in front of you all those years later is burned into his brain forever. And he also doesn’t mind one bit when they’re wrapped around him or exploring the scarred skin of his body, giving every inch of him the attention that he deserves - and everything that he craved while stranded on The Green Moon. 

 (No one asked for this but I’m also going to talk about what your favorite part of him is) 

 It’s his eyes, and the way they catch the light. The way that you can see him in them, even when he’s looking at or talking to someone else. It’s the way that no matter how hard he tries to keep his expression even, he can’t keep the emotion out of his eyes - so dark and emotivr that it’s hard to believe they’re natural. You always know whether or not he’s lying based on the look in them, and it was one of the first things you told him that truly surprised him. Why? 

 Ezra’s a smooth talker - and because he’s so used to being able to talk his way into and out of everything, people are much more focused on what he’s saying than how he looks or what he’s doing while he’s saying it - and that’s what he counts on. He isn’t used to people taking him seriously right off the bat, or paying close attention to anything but what they hear - and Kevva knows that it scared the shit out of you to be so bold with him, especially when you didn’t know him well. 

 But you did. And it earned you his respect immediately. So whenever Ezra has something important to tell you, he does so while looking directly at you. He doesn’t give a fuck what other people see or think, but he needs you to know that he’s telling you the truth - or at least as much of the truth as he can. 

 You’re also very partial to the streak of blonde in his hair; and when you’re relaxing with him, your fingers - particularly your thumb - always seem to find it. In fact, when you saw him again, it was what convinced you that it was actually him in the first place, and not your mind playing tricks on you with a lookalike (as if there could be anyone else in the galaxy that looked like Ezra. 

 … and, you love his hands. Both of them, one of them - doesn’t matter, because you know that as long as it’s possible, when they’re on your body? Ezra’s going to use them well. 

 C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

 When you first started seeing (and sleeping with) Ezra, things weren’t messy, because you used protection. If you ask him, Ezra liked those days a lot, because it meant that as soon as you finished, the two of you could stay in bed instead of one or both of you needing to get up and head into the bathroom. You were both “safe”, choosing to rely on the implant provided to all students at the University if they asked for it, but since there was no expectation of a long term relationship when you went to bed together, you opted for an additional safeguard in the beginning - at Ezra’s suggestion. 

 ‘I do believe that it would be in both of our best interests to…” He trailed off, gesturing to the on-campus pharmacy. “... ensure a certain level of additional protection.” 

 “You don’t trust me?” His eyebrows shot up, a look of worry filling his eyes. “No, you know what? That shouldn’t even be my first question to you, Ezra.” You chewed on your lip, fighting back a grin. It was usually you urging your partners in that direction, and Ezra’s solution had been a surprise. “What makes you think that we’re going to end up in bed together? Why would we need -” 

 He stepped closer, reaching up with his hand - the one that had the tattoo inked into the webbing between his thumb and first finger - to brush the hair away from your brow, eyes never leaving yours. “You will need to learn something about me.” He tilted his head slightly to the side, leaning in. “I am always prepared. And with you?” He paused, the sunlight turning his eyes into molten amber; flecks of gold visible in their depths. “It is an ineluctable fact that your bed is where I want to end up. I’m just … getting to the point.” 

 But later, after you’d been together for long enough to truly trust the implants and their success rate, that wasn’t the case anymore. While neither of you have an issue or any real complaints about remaining in bed, damp and sticky against the sheets when you’ve finished with each other, Ezra relishes the time he gets to spend eyeing every inch of you, running a damp cloth over your skin or between your legs - and enjoys when you clean him up just as much. 

 However. The times you use your mouth to do so? Ezra’s eyes roll back, and he thanks Kevva over and over the entire time. 

 D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

 Ezra’s secret is the same both before and after the Green, and while he thinks about it often, it’s most prevalently on his mind when you’re laying next to him, hair spread out on the pillows in the low light. He doesn’t believe he’s good enough for you. Before, it was because he couldn’t provide for you in a way that he believes he should be able to, but after? It’s because without his arm, this is still the case - but it’s coupled with the memories of everything he did on the Green - and why he did it. Technically, this has nothing to do with sex… and yet everything to do with sex at the same time. There’s nothing that makes him feel better - more alive, more present than being with you physically, seeing and feeling your hands on each other … and yet it’s tainted in a way that he can’t explain. As much as Ezra talks out loud, he gets lost in his head, too, and when that happens? It’s hard to bring himself back.

 He wanted to do right by you, and after taking the opportunity - going to the Green, spending years apart from you and then coming back and finding you again, part of him thinks that it was the wrong call. And yet he still can’t tell himself no when you give him that smile or say his name quietly, the a catching on your lips and making his heart thump in his chest in a way that it never has for anyone else before. 

 And he hates himself for being so weak. For all of the terrible things that Ezra’s done in his life - all of the strength he showed while prospecting, all of his common sense, all of his experience? When it comes to you (and, in a way, to Cee) he feels as weak and helpless as he did the moment he realized he’d need to lose an arm to have any hope of surviving. 

 E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

 Ezra’s had his fair share of partners, but only one or two of them were actual relationships. There was the experimentation as a teenager - kisses shared behind closed doors, hands fumbling with clothing (over and beneath it), promises made … the usual.

But after leaving home to go to school, Ezra really hit his stride with women. He always considered himself average - average height, average build, average looks - but it didn’t take him long to realize that that wasn’t what others saw him as - and he’s made the most of it. Learning is important to Ezra, and that doesn’t just mean when it comes to books or artifacts. He focused on studying, focused on getting an education so that he could get a good job after graduating, but he always made time for extracurricular activity, and had plenty of partners to choose from.

 With women from all over the galaxy, Ezra was a willing student, patient and focused, taking mental notes - showing off what he’d learned previously and finding the best possible uses for his knowledge. He likes to show off, likes to boast about what he’s learned in the past… and opportunities for practical use of his bedroom skills? He’ll take  them. 

 But don’t confuse his eagerness to learn with him being sleazy; he respected every partner he ever had, and never made them feel like he was using them or didn’t appreciate them when he was with them. Ezra doesn’t like making promises that he can’t keep, and that extends even to one night stands. 

 The more he knew and learned, the better, but that all stopped the first time he took you to bed, because he quickly realized that there was little - if anything - that could be better than what you’d showed him. It wasn’t you that asked him to stay for the first time - it was him making the request of you, and as the words - haltingly - came out of his mouth, his fingertips moving slowly over your brow and temple as he faced you in bed, he knew that he was absolutely fucked in every sense of the word. 

 F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

 As with everything else, Ezra likes to prolong sex. This means finding ways to ensure that when the two of you are together, it lasts. 

 Both before and after the Green, he likes you on top; likes to see what you’re doing, and let you control the pace. Whether you’re kneeling and in an upright position so that he can reach out and touch you, or you’re leaning forward, chests pressed together as you hold onto his shoulders or grip the pillows, this is a favorite for him. This position is much easier for him with one arm, too, since it doesn’t require balance or him supporting himself above you. 

 Another favorite position for both of you also allows him to give you what you need without the risk of him toppling over. Even though he likes to look at you, you and Ezra have a lot of lazy, slow sex, both of you laying on your sides. Your back pressed to his chest, one leg raised, your foot resting on his ankle to open yourself up to him just enough - he loves it, because you give him the freedom to set the pace, even if he can’t move as deeply within you as he could from another angle. 

 Ezra likes holding you close - and this allows him to do just that; an arm wrapped tightly around your body, hand on your chest, or his fingers working their magic where you need him most. He can feel the sounds you make from his angle, every inch of your body responding to his touch or his words, and this gives him another opportunity to put his mouth on the skin of your shoulders - as well as easy access to your ear, should he choose to talk. (And he does… but you do, too.) The first time you were together in this position after he came home was also the first time he made an outright joke about losing his arm. For anyone else, it would have ruined the moment, but coming from him? You knew that it was his way of telling you that it was OK to talk about it, that he knew that it was changing the way you were when you were in bed together, but that it was something you’d both have  to get used to. What did he say? “I have had an epiphany, just now.” He paused, nuzzling his face into your shoulder from behind, forehead pressed to the back of your neck. “I don’t have to worry about the arm underneath us going numb, no matter how long we remain in this position.” 

 There was another pause - and then Ezra kissed your shoulder, lips lingering. You didn’t know how to reply, but with shock, realized that you could feel his smile against your skin, though you couldn’t see it. Before you made your choice, you heard him speak again, voice low. “It’s perfectly alright to laugh with me about it, Starlight. I don’t mind.” 

 G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

 A lot of people consider Ezra goofy as it is. The way he speaks, the exaggerated movement of his hands and arms, the way that he stands - one hip popped, head cocked to the side … it’s what they see, so they believe that that’s what he is. And he’s worked hard to establish his personality, but there’s so much more to Ezra than 90% of the world sees. 

His family is small - the only ones left alive are his brother and sister-in-law, and you’ve met them multiple times - before, during and after Ezra’s time away. With the three of you, and a few select other people, he’s free to be entirely himself - but the most open Ezra is is when it’s just the two of you. 

 When he’s in bed with you, it fluctuates between serious and relaxed, depending on the circumstances that led up to the two of you in that position. There are times when he is absolutely, positively laser focused on you and getting his hands and mouth on you, but there are just as many times as him joking around with you while you’re watching movies or listening to music, or just hanging around the house has led to more. And you love both sides of him, but you like casual, relaxed Ezra much more… and he knows it. Of course, since Ezra’s vocabulary is a lot different than the other people you’ve been to bed with, there are a lot of times when he sounds serious, and he’s not trying to - but you definitely don’t mind that. 

 H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

 The first time you saw Ezra, he was dressed to impress - but you very quickly realized that that wasn’t typical for him. Hair styled - slightly longer than most of the other men in your lecture, or the other students - but that bright blonde streak? Everything stood out to you, that included. You wanted to know what it felt like to run your fingers through his hair; even combed back, you could tell that it was soft, the ends curling slightly over the back of his neck. 

 But you’d noticed that you weren’t the only one intrigued by him - hanging on the words he said as he described the history of a faraway planet - the one he’d focused his entire educational career on - and its eventual downfall, leading to humans scattering throughout the stars. No, most of the other women in the room were of the same mindset as you, along with some of the men, too. 

 You’d made eye contact with him on your way out of the lecture hall, Ezra’s eyes widening, cheeks going round as he offered you a smile that you knew you wouldn’t forget before he turned his attention to the other people attempting to talk with him, asking him questions about his research. Since there’d been so many people between the two of you, the only thing you could do was grin back, and then write it off as a chance encounter - committing his smile and his voice to memory - but not thinking anything else would come from it… unfortunately. He’d cut his hair shorter before you saw him again, nearly two weeks later, but the streak was still there, and all of it still looked impossibly soft - especially messy and moving in the breeze. He’d reintroduced himself immediately, sticking his hand out and asking for your name, the basic pleasantries only lasting for a few seconds before he switched tactics on you without hesitation. 

 Ezra was right in the middle of flirting with you on the quad - telling a story to try and convince you to come out with him to a restaurant that he loved without outright asking - and you cut him off, straightening the hem of your shirt as a way to gain confidence - even though it only worked partially and you knew that he knew it. 

 “Ezra.” Lips pressed tightly together, you lifted an eyebrow, waiting a few seconds as the main trailed off, looking shocked that you’d interrupted him. “You don’t need to tell me everything about the menu.” He was truly surprised, you could see it in his eyes, in the way that he shifted his weight, one hand going to his hip as he watched you, head tilted. “I believe you.” “Then why are we still standing in this same, unbelievably noisy and heavily traversed location?” You couldn’t hold back the smile, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “If my description of the plentiful mealtime offerings hasn’t motivated you to -” 

 “Ezra.” You liked saying his name almost as much as he liked hearing it, and made a mental note to speak it as often as possible. “You haven’t asked me to go anywhere with you yet.” He laughed at that, fine lines at the corners of his eyes deepening, teeth bared as he grinned at you. You also decided that you liked that sound - very much. 

 “Well, that is my mistake.” He gestured with one hand in your direction, still smiling broadly. “Do let me rectify that by requesting the honor of your presence tonight for dinner.” You’d thought the way he spoke was strange - though endearing - and even though you weren’t used to it, you also decided that you liked it, too. But I won’t make it easy for him. 

 “How do you know that I’m not seeing someone, Ezra?” Cocking your head to one side, too, you met his eyes, unblinking. “How do you know that I’m not just letting you dig yourself into a -”

 “A woman like you wouldn’t be staring at a man like me the way that you have been since we began this conversation if she were otherwise involved.” Simple. Direct. To the point. You appreciated it more than you were willing to admit, and it was a refreshing change of pace from the other men you’d dated - but even from only a few minutes of conversation and watching him give one lecture, you knew that Ezra wasn’t like other men. 

 “You’re right.” Biting down on your lower lip, you studied his reaction for a few more seconds before you ran your tongue over it - a movement that he followed with both eyes, not even bothering to hide it. “But you know what else a woman like me wouldn’t be doing if she had someone else?” He quirked an eyebrow, the smile returning. “No, I do not. Enlighten me.” Taking a step closer, you crossed both arms over your chest, looking up and meeting his eyes. “She wouldn’t be staring at you and wondering whether or not that blonde streak of hair is the only one you’ve got.” That got him, the man’s expression changing into one of total surprise, mouth falling open before he let out a quiet whistle and then stepped closer to you, one hand reaching out and settling against the bare skin of your arm, his thumb moving over it slowly - deliberately. 

 “I’m more than happy to give you the opportunity to find out for yourself.” It wasn’t what he said, but the way he said it, eyes focused on your face, one side of his mouth quirking up into the barest hint of a smile. “Either way, I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.” 

 You made your decision in a split second, appreciating how direct he was, how brazen the man was in his flirtation with you, and cocked your head to the opposite side, the tip of your tongue poking into the corner of your mouth. “Let’s start with dinner, Ezra. I believe you said you knew a good place?” 

 Of all the expressions that you ever saw on his face, the smile he gave you in return was in your top three - and it was the beginning of everything. 

 …. Also? There’s no other blonde streak, but for a man that carries himself in as casual and rugged a way as Ezra? He’s especially well groomed everywhere, and cares a lot about hygiene - even with only one arm. (The only exception is his beard, which you like a lot scruffier than well-trimmed, and he is more than happy to oblige that simple request.)

 I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

 When you met Ezra, he was a typical late 20’s student. (Started school late, and was in his second year of the Ephrate’s equivalent of grad school, so roughly 27 Earth years when you meet him, but probably a little older, since time passes differently on different planets.) His good looks, quick wit and that look he gave women when they were speaking to him? He was trouble. You knew it, he knew it, and the rest of the student body knew it, too. He was charming, he was different, because of the way he spoke … but there was one thing that you knew right off the bat, even before you found yourself in bed with him: Ezra. Is. Incredibly. Intimate. 

 Yeah, he can turn it off and have just sex, but with him, there’s no point to letting him do that. You don’t go to bed with someone like him for it to be just sex, you want everything. But intimacy to Ezra isn’t just the physical act. No… it’s everything that gets you into bed, and everything that comes after. 

 With his vocabulary, he can go from quoting plays and books - even old movies - to whispering the absolute filthiest things imaginable into your ear in the same breath. And he’s done it, multiple times. 

 Ezra has a way about him that makes it even so when you don’t know him, it’s like you do, because he’s so observant. He pulls in details from the tiniest things - the way you look in the starlight, the brightness in your eyes when you laugh at something, how one corner of your lips twitches slightly when you’re listening to someone, but don’t quite believe them, or how you tend to dig your teeth in when you’re about to make a point. He sees it all, and he comments on it all, and it goes a hell of a long way to keeping you in the moment with him, strengthening the connection you have. 

 J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

 On the Ephrate, Ezra didn’t need to resort to this as much as he did before going to school. Yes, there were women at home, but he grew up in a relatively quiet place - so he only had so many options. He was a typical teenager, but even though it felt good, he always knew there was more out there for him - somewhere.

 While in school (both times), Ezra had his pick. Thousands of female students from all over the galaxy? Some of them shared his bed. Many of them were the subject of his fantasies. All of them are fond memories, until they’re just not important anymore. 

 Enter you. 

 While Ezra’s on the Green, you’re all he thinks about 90% of the time in private. It’s only natural, right? You’re the one he’s planning on going home to, you’re the one he wants to be with - you’re the one he wants to imagine when he’s got a few minutes to himself in his bunk or in the shower. Like with everything, he prefers to take his time, drawing things out and giving himself a chance to get lost in memories… but that’s not the Green. 

 No. There, he has to be quick, be quiet… and quiet isn’t something that comes easily to Ezra, especially at first. For the first few months he’s gone, the knuckle of his left pointer finger is almost consistently bruised from him biting down on it to muffle the noises he makes. But as time passes, that stops - and instead, Ezra’s able to focus on the small black circles inked in the space between his thumb and forefinger, remembering what it felt like to have your thumb pressed to it when you held hands, or the way your lips looked against it when you’d turn your head and find his hand caressing your cheek. After losing his arm? After losing his dominant hand? Getting himself off was a struggle. He didn’t think about it for the first few weeks, of course, because he was recovering from the amputation and the wound to his chest, but as soon as he was up to it, and he realized that there was a real chance he’d have an actual life - maybe with you again? It was overwhelming. Yes, as soon as he felt well enough, one of the first things Ezra did - in the privacy of a well lit, comfortable bedroom in his recovery room at the Med Center on Central - was get himself off. 

 But his fingers felt foreign wrapped around his length, thoughts running wild - and not in a good way. Even thinking of you - and of his favorite memory of you - wasn’t enough to help him finish at first. And that is something that shocked him (But it didn’t last long.)  

 K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

 One of Ezra’s biggest kinks is blindfolding you. One, because it gives him a chance to appeal to the senses that aren’t sight - it means that he knows you’re into him and responding to him for more than what you can see … and two, it allows him to stare at you without shame or restraint - and it’s one of his favorite things in the universe to do (clothed and unclothed, but he prefers the moments when you’re bared to him. It’s a trust thing again.)

 This is true before and after the Green, and after, it makes him feel more confident, because he knows you’re not looking at him - the lost arm, the scars, his weakened body from losing a great deal of weight on decreased rations. It makes him feel more confident, even though deep down, he knows you’re not focusing on any of those things when you look at him.

 Two specific instances? 

 Prior to leaving for the aurelac rush, you were the one that suggested Ezra blindfolding you for the first time. You hadn’t wanted to bring it up, because the truth was that you relished the moments that you got to watch him while you were in bed (or in any number of other places) with each other, but one of your friends had mentioned that she’d tried it on her husband on a whim, and you’d been intrigued. “You want me to forfeit my eyesight, Starlight?” He blinked at you slowly, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “When looking at you is absolutely all I ruminate about when we’re apart?” “No. Ezra, I want you to…” You paused, nervously chewing on your lip. “I want you to cover my eyes.” Mouth falling open with a quiet laugh, Ezra stepped toward you, reaching out to wind an arm around your waist and pull you into his chest. “You’re distracting.” You lifted a hand, tugging gently on the blonde streak in his hair, your eyes locked. ���I don’t want to see what’s coming next, I just want to feel it.” You paused, winking. “And hear you.” 

 “That is surely … something for me to ponder.” He leaned down, kissing you quiet, and for long moments you let him, grip on his hair relaxing, even though his hand wandered beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips stroking your lower back. “I am enthralled by this idea,” he murmured into your ear before grazing the lobe with his teeth. “Maybe too much, to be truthful.” 

 “I’ll tell you if it’s too much, Ezra.” You kissed his cheek, lips pressing to the raised edges of the silvery scar there. “I trust you.” 

That was all it took - those three words - and Ezra discovered a new and very fulfilling kink. Eventually, he worked up to asking you to blindfold him, too - and it didn’t take long for the two of you to find and choose a favorite piece of material to use to block your vision; a strip of fabric from the shirt you’d worn on your second date - and the first night you’d gone to bed with him - that had *somehow* gotten torn. 

 After the Green, you’d been the one to suggest it again, after seeing - and feeling - that he was hesitant to truly let himself go with you. He’d been back in your life for a few weeks, both of his serious wounds well on their way to healing, and you’d been intimate a few times, but it wasn’t like it had been before - and you both knew it. 

 “Ezra?” You came out of your bedroom and down the stairs, calling out his name before you’d reached the bottom floor of the house. “How do you feel about staying in tonight? I can order dinner, and we can …” You paused in front of where he sat on the couch, gesturing with one hand. “Just relax. I know the last few weeks have been a lot for you.” 

 “I’d like that.” He tilted his head up and toward you, nodding. “What did you have in mind?” He watched as you moved to sit down next to him, and before he thought about it, reached for you with his right arm, swearing quietly as he corrected the action and tugged you onto his lap with his left. You eased against his body, careful not to knock into the still healing wound on his chest with your shoulder or elbow, and tucked your forehead in against his neck, arm disappearing behind his back and the other hand resting on his knee. 

 “I’m not sure. Whatever you want. That one place you liked? The one with the noodles? They closed. So I guess… anything but that?” He laughed, glancing down at the way you nestled even closer to him at the sound, breath hitting the skin at the base of his throat, where the collar of his shirt wasn’t covering it. 

 “It’s a very good thing I happen to be adaptable, then.” It was your turn to laugh, the sound more of a snort, and Ezra felt his chest grow tight - the feeling having nothing to do with the fresh scar tissue there. But neither of you made any move toward the kitchen, where a stack of menus sat in a drawer, or for your tablet, to place an order. I like this feeling. He closed his eyes, tightening his hold on your hip, and heard you clear your throat. 

 “Reach into my back pocket.” He paused, but did as you asked, you shifting to lift so that he could get his hand where you’d told him to. Sucking in a breath as his fingers closed around the familiar material, Ezra whispered your name. “Couldn’t get rid of it. Not even when I moved.” He lifted the length of blue fabric and held it up in front of your faces, the memories of using it with you flooding back. “I’m sure you haven’t thought of it in -” 

 “Years?” He kissed the top of your head, closing his eyes. “That is false.” He took a few seconds to consider his words, deciding to cut straight to the chase - for once. “You put a piece of it into my pack before I left, and that small square of fabric brought me comfort nearly the entire time I was on that Kevva-forsaken moon.” You said his name, sitting up and twisting to look at him, the man gesturing for you to take the blindfold from him. “I lost it when I was forced to abandon my pack during the altercation with my crew, and no matter how long I looked, I couldn’t find it.” 

 You winced at that, using both hands to twist the fabric, though your eyes were locked with his. “I’m sorry, Ezra.” Swallowing hard, you finally closed your eyes. “But there’s another reason I want to stay in tonight.” His heartbeat quickened, and though he knew it was coming, he was still surprised at your next words. “Blindfold me, Ezra. I know you’re still working through a lot, but maybe it -” “I can’t tie a knot anymore.” The words came out bitter, but you didn’t let him dwell on that, the blindfold dropping from your hands and into your lap, palms on his cheeks and forcing him to look at you again. “You can help me tie it, Ezra.” Leaning in, you pressed your forehead to his, breath catching. “Or we don’t have  to use it, but I just thought … I see how you try to hide. You tell me not to look at you, and this way?” You kissed him gently, lips once again easily finding the scarred skin of his cheek, the familiarity of it striking him as much as it had each time you did it before - and then continued. “This way I can’t. You’ve got all the control, it’s all up to you.” Pulling back just enough, you met his eyes again, and he saw the anguish in yours, the desperation to help him. “It’s all up to you.” 

 “D’you still…” He swallowed, the words sticking in his throat. “Trust me, Starlight?” There wasn’t even a breath between his question and your response. “Always.”

 For once, Ezra was unable to find the words to express his gratitude to you, but he also knew that you didn’t need to hear them - he’d seen it on your face at his reaction to your assertion, and you wouldn’t ever force him to speak it out loud. Another? Alright.

 After the Green? Ezra develops an absolute love for sensation play. Since there was so little room or time for him to enjoy the feeling of anything that wasn’t his suit, his hands or the sparse amounts of water available on his skin for so long, every single thing that he feels - and enjoys - turns him on in the moment.

 The feeling of your fingers against his skin, whether you’re warm or cold? The way the soft, silky material of your clothes slides over his back or chest before one of you removes it? The feeling of the grass, or the sand or even water - from a lake or an ocean, or the tub?  The way the sunlight feels when it warms his skin or the cool breeze from the ventilation fans in your house? Every one of them is a new miracle to Ezra.

 All of it is overwhelming to him, but he loves it. He even likes the slightly uncomfortable situations; the cramped backseat of your transport vehicle, the grittiness of the bricks that make up a building’s walls against his palm as he kisses you senseless outside of a restaurant that you go to to celebrate his birthday. Everything he feels now is making up for what he couldn’t feel then, and he won’t ever take any of it for granted. 

 But his absolute favorite thing was the way you tasted when he kissed you in the middle of dessert one night, a spoonful of ice cream melting against both of your tongues and dripping slowly over your lips. Ezra got used to being uncomfortably warm on the Green, and so he truly appreciates any excuse to be chilled - in any way  … but especially when it involves your mouths and skin. 

 L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

 Ezra’s adventurous, and if you’re game for it, he’ll have you just about anywhere. The two of you like being outside, under the stars (which is where and how you got your nickname - more on that in a separate piece). He likes the way his skin looks against yours, likes the soft sounds of the grass and the wind, the sound of the crickets … he’s a very outdoorsy man, and even though you’re always somewhat worried that someone will stumble upon you, he’s very reassuring - and it doesn’t take long for your entire focus to be on him, no matter where the two of you are. Ezra is also partial to the two of you being inside, because it means that he can prolong things - slowly removing his clothes and yours, taking his time working you up - with words or his hands or his mouth or even just with a look. Floor, bed, couch, counter, shower … it doesn’t matter to him. Your safety and comfort are very important to him, and he knows that even though you like the fresh air, you’re much more likely to let yourself get lost in him and what you’re doing from the get-go if you’re inside and can lock a door. 

 Fact: After Ezra’s return to the Ephrate from Central after the Green, and after he’d been released from the second Med Center and cleared to begin a “normal” routine, the first place the two of you had sex was in your shower. (More on that in a separate piece, too)

 M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

This is a good question, and depending on the day you ask him, Ezra’s answers might be very different. 

 He’s turned on by touch - you squeezing his hand, putting your hand on his knee, running your fingers through his hair. 

 He’s turned on by the way you speak to people - confident, without talking down to others. He loves that you don’t need him to speak for you, but are absolutely willing to let him in some cases. He also likes the way you talk to him, never hesitating to make a joke, or say exactly what’s on your mind.

He knows that you still want to impress him, but aren’t focused on doing that every time you open your mouth. 

 Ezra loves when you listen to him, bringing up some obscure fact that he mentioned in passing weeks or months prior. He knows that it means that you’re truly paying attention to him, that you listen when he speaks, and that what he says is very important to you - like it is to him. He also likes it when you take the lead - not always in bed, but he likes when you’re the one that gets things started; slipping your hand beneath the waistband of his pants if you’re just lounging, kissing his jaw, or letting your lips linger on the tattoo on his hand and then pulling it toward your body in the middle of a conversation. There’s a lot that turns Ezra on, let’s be honest. 

 N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

 Ezra won’t hurt you. He hates indecisiveness. He hates being talked down to, or made to feel less than - but he also doesn’t like someone trying to talk him up beyond his actual capabilities, even if they mean well. 

 Ezra won’t go to bed with anyone after they’ve been drinking heavily - and that includes himself. He doesn’t drink much, but he’s not a big guy, so it doesn’t take much to make him tipsy - especially since his liquor of choice is whiskey, and he prefers dark, strong beer. 

 You learn very quickly that Ezra’s not the type of man to take someone out and feed them drinks to speed along the process. Yes, you drink together, but even when it leads to you in bed, it doesn’t progress past wandering hands and kisses - at least until you’ve both sobered up. He also will not discuss his sex life in detail with anyone. Vague responses, yes. But the first time someone made a comment about the two of you that he didn’t like… you didn’t think you’d ever seen someone go so still. Ezra’s a gentleman, through and though, and even though he’s had to make a lot of difficult decisions and experienced lot of difficult situations in his life, he won’t compromise when it comes to the woman he’s with (you) and their reputation or honor. It’s old fashioned, but it’s one of the many things that you love about him. 

 It wasn’t something that the two of you did before the Green, but when he comes back, Ezra makes it very clear that he’s not interested at all in breath play of any kind. He knows what it’s like to feel like he can’t breathe; oxygen available but not flowing into his lungs, and has no interest in ever reliving that situation in his life, or encouraging it for someone else, even only briefly. 

 O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

 A man of very simple tastes, if you want him in your mouth, he won’t ever tell you no. For a lot of men, receiving this type of attention is a chance to zone out, only focusing on how good it feels… but not for Ezra. He pays attention to everything, no matter what it is you’re doing - the way your lips feel, what you’re doing with your tongue, the way your hands clutch at his thighs or his ass, whether or not you’re paying attention to all of him, or only the tip … every single second of it is pleasure to Ezra, but it’s only because of the person giving it to him.

 He’s had some pretty underwhelming blowjobs in his time, and even worse sex, so finding out that you wouldn’t be lumped into either of those categories was a very welcome revelation. When you’re going down on him, he likes either using it as an opportunity to finish in your mouth - only with your permission - or at the very last second, pulling out and finishing in you. 

 However. As much as he likes being on the receiving end, Ezra is very, very giving. 

 That tongue of his isn’t only good for speaking, and even though it took you some time to feel comfortable enough to let him go down on you, once you had, you never turned him down again. Like with everything else, Ezra takes the time to do it right. And even though you can’t explain it, the fact that he pauses long enough to check in with you, making sure that you like what he’s doing doesn’t take you out of the moment in the way that it would with anyone else. He’s not trying to inflate his own ego, and doesn’t need constant reassurance - he’s legitimately trying to figure out what he’s doing right - and what he can do better next time. 

 As the two of you got to know each other more and you realized how competitive he was (More on that in the Wild Card section), you bet him that he couldn’t get you off in under five minutes with his mouth - which, to be honest, wouldn’t have upset you much, even if he’d lost the bet. Ezra did it in less than three, with the use of two fingers and a side-to-side movement with his tongue that you were not expecting.  Even though it felt incredible, you made him promise not to make that his go to, because… well. 

 “Don’t you worry, Starlight. I was just proving a point.” He sat up, using one thumb to wipe at his lips, an eyebrow raised. “You underestimate my usual restraint when it comes to your pleasure.” You couldn’t help it; leaning forward and grabbing a handful of his hair, pulling him close enough to press your lips to his, the action surprising him. “No, Ezra. I know better than to ever do that. I just know how much you like a challenge.” 

 P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

 He isn’t overly rough, but he doesn’t treat you like you’re made of glass, either. Ezra knows what you can handle, and while he won’t give you more than that, he likes to push limits - and so do you. You always know when he’s got something on his mind and how it’s impacting him by the way he is in bed with you. 

 Hard and fast = and something’s bothering him. 

Slower and focused = You’ve got his full attention. You can always coax him into a different pace, but as the two of you got closer, you didn’t need to as much. It only takes a few words, a hand gliding across his back or a palm against his cheek, and you’ve got his attention. The times you have to pull him out of his thoughts, you know that the after will likely include him filling you in on whatever’s bugging him, but as you remind him all the time, that’s what you’re there for - and you have no problem with that. You want it from him.

 But the one thing to remember: Ezra’s always thorough. Always. He takes his responsibilities very seriously when it comes to the way he is in bed, and even if he’s not being serious, he will absolutely not let you leave the bed (or the couch, or the blanket or the shower) unless he knows that you’re well-fucked and completely taken care of. 

 He’s a gentleman like that. 

 Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

 Ezra will have you anywhere, and at any time that you allow him to do so. 

Before, he prefers to take his time with you, making sure that both of you enjoy every second, but neither of you are strangers to being in a rush - between classes, before work or an event, that one time at your parents’ house before your birthday dinner … He’s an opportunist, and you love him for it, because when he gets that look in his eye, you know you’re going to like what’s coming. 

 After? He means to go slow, but in the weeks that follow his arrival back to the Ephrate, it’s fast more often than not. After so long apart, he can’t help it, and no matter how many times he tells himself he needs to slow down, tells you you need to slow down and just enjoy it, ease back into things, giving both of you time to readjust, it’s nearly impossible. 

 There’s also a short period of time where he tries to take things quickly with you, because he’s very self conscious about his arm - and he believes that forcing you to look at it is additional punishment on top of what he’s already put you through by disappearing for so long. Basically? He wants to get off, and get you off, but give you a quick out if you want it. (You do not.)

 But no matter how many times Cee tells him that what happened on the Green to his chest and to his arm is just a part of life in the Fringe, and anyone that loves him won’t let it matter, it takes a long conversation late at night with you for it to really stick - and for him to go into more detail about what happened on the Green and what led to him losing that arm in the first place. 

 After that happens, he’s very excited to find that you initiate quickies often just to show him that it doesn’t matter how long it lasts, you’re just happy to be with him again.  

 R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

 Look at  him and tell me that he doesn’t take risks - I dare you. Ezra’s life has been one risk after another. Leaving home - and a relatively lucrative career with his brother - to study. Making a home on a new planet. Falling in love with you. Leaving you to go to the Green? It’s all risky, and even though in many cases, the reward was worth it, he knows all too well what happens if he fails, even partially. 

 But when it comes to sex with Ezra, nearly everything’s on the table there, too. 

 It’s easier, before, to try new things and new places, to thoroughly take care of you, to make sure that you’re satisfied, and Ezra does that without hesitation whenever he possibly can. 

 After? After he’s lost an arm, after he’s spent years on the Green with no one and nothing but the people he could never fully trust? Risk to him means something different. He indulges your whims - and some of his own, but there’s always a pause, always a moment of hesitation where he weighs options in a way that he didn’t ever before. 

 Before, a calculated risk to Ezra meant making sure that neither of you would be caught … and now, it means ensuring that you won’t be hurt, even in simple, harmless situations. He knows it’s unnecessary - knows that he needs to shake it, but he can’t do that right away, and is very thankful that you’re willing to work through it with him. 

 S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

 I said before that Ezra likes to prolong sex, and when both of you are in no hurry, it’s not uncommon to spend an hour wrapped up in each other. The entire time isn’t spent on the actual act of sex - both you and Ezra love foreplay, too. Teasing is important for both of you; getting right to the edge with hands or mouths and then pulling back - you know each other well, and you make the most of it.

 Fun fact: Ezra was the first guy you’d been with that didn’t get outright offended when you didn’t get off during sex and he did. Instead of being upset, he looked at it as a challenge. 

 “You do understand that there are innumerable ways for me to make you come?” His voice quiet in the darkness had startled you, the feeling of him pulling out from between your legs making you let out a sound - a low whine that you barely recognized. “Let’s start trying to figure them all out.”

 The weight of him disappeared from your body, and then before you could react, or tell him that it was fine, you felt his chin against your abdomen, the hair from his beard gently scratching along your skin, followed by his lips at your navel. He cleared his throat as you reached for him with one hand, fingers brushing against the tangled locks at the crown of his head, and then pressed another kiss to the inside of your thigh before he spoke again, amusement - and determination - in his voice, warm breath spreading out over your slick skin. “One.” 

 ---

On a good night - and there are a lot of good nights - Ezra’s good for at least three rounds (with time between, of course) - but he always makes sure that you come at least once more than he does before he’s satisfied. This is unless, of course, you wear each other out to the point where you’re unable to do anything but fall asleep, and you almost like those times better, because you know  that the next morning (or afternoon, or whenever it is that you come to) you’ll be woken up by Ezra’s low voice in your ear, hand (or hands, prior to the Green) roaming your body. 

 For whatever reason, whenever you and Ezra have slow, sleepy sex, neither of you last as long, and both of you have no idea why. (But neither of you will ever complain, and it’s your favorite way to start the day.)

 T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

 You had a small collection before you met him, something that you were very open to sharing with him. They were holiday gifts from your friends, favors from bachelorette parties - typical for someone your age. And you’d used them, especially in the times between relationships, when it was simpler to pick one than find someone short term. The men you’d been with previously had liked bringing them into bed with you, too, because it meant that they could pause and just watch you, but Ezra? 

 It is a personal mission of his to make sure that you do not ever *need* to turn to something else when he’s in bed with you. If you really wanted to use one of them, he wouldn’t outright tell you no (and this happens after he comes home - which, at first seems unreasonable to him, until you explain it in a way that doesn’t make him feel like less of a man) but before? 

 The first time you opened the small box, Ezra sucked in a breath that turned into a low hum, both of his hands reaching for yours and squeezing. “Your very own treasure chest, hmm?” Even in the low light, you saw the gleam in his eyes, the smirk on his face. “These are what you like?” You hadn’t known it at the time, but he wasn’t making fun of you, instead wanting to get an idea of what he could expect in the future. “These are what you need?” 

 Staying silent, you eyed him, listening to the change in the tone of his voice, his accent becoming thicker. “They’re just options, Ezra.” Barely above a whisper, you finally spoke as he kissed your jaw, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek when he closed his eyes. “I -” He pushed you backwards, and just as smoothly as the man had entered your life in the first place, he was hovering over your body, using both hands to pin your wrists, knees bent on either side of your hips. “Ezra.” 

 He smiled, waiting an extra breath and then spoke again, slowly bringing his face back toward yours and his lips to your ear. “I have learned in my lifetime that anything worth doing well is worth doing by hand.” He kissed you then, teeth grazing your earlobe as you arched your back beneath him, your fingers closing into fists - even though you didn’t try to pull your wrists free. “But.” His lips moved down your neck and then over your throat, his name spilling from your mouth before you could stop it. “Talk to me, Starlight. Tell me what -” 

 “Don’t need them, Ezra.” You were struggling at that point, just to give yourself something to do, shoulders pushed back and into the mattress as you moved beneath him, your breath coming out in short spurts though he’d barely touched you. “They’re just…” You moaned as you felt him bite down on your collarbone, and then he let you go, moving his hands to the pillows, yours going to his face and pulling it back up. His gaze was calm, but you could feel that it was just cover; the man waiting for your response. Shaking your head back and forth slowly, you locked eyes with him, using one fingertip to trace over the curved scar on his cheek. “For when you’re not around.” 

 He groaned, bending his arms and letting his weight settle against you; the length of him pressed along the inside of your thigh the best - and only - reminder that you needed that when Ezra was there, the warmth of him was all you needed. 

 U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

 Ezra’s a damn tease, especially in the bedroom, but you know that whenever he gets going, the payout is well worth it. He never denies you anything, unless there’s a reason. He never outright ignores you - or what you want or need … but he doesn’t always make it easy. And that’s another one of the things that you love about him. Ezra’s caring and considerate, but he’s set in his ways. He’s very particular about the way he carries himself, and the beliefs he has, which makes a lot of others question him. But when they really get to know him, they understand  that how he is is a big part of what he is, and he’s a welcome change from the people that you grew up with, from the people that you’d been around for long stretches of your life. 

 For Ezra, it’s all about the build up. The two of you went to bed together for the first time with very little hesitation - it wasn’t the first date… but it also didn’t take until the third. So, after that, both of you decided that it would be fun to get to know each other by seeing how far you could go riling each other up. 

 It usually starts when you’re nowhere near a private area. Ezra loves just barely touching you - his fingers brushing against your arm, a slight push on your back, the nail of his thumb dragging over your palm … it all drives you wild, and he knows it. 

 When you first started seeing each other exclusively, you were both still taking classes - and had very different schedules… let’s just say that the biggest tease of all was the way he kissed you before saying goodbye in the morning, or before going your separate ways after meeting for lunch. They were just kisses, yes, but they were also an indication of what you had waiting at the end of the day and behind closed doors. He didn’t even have to say anything (although he often did); all it took was that kiss and one look - a wink, the slight twitch of his lips, the appearance of that dimple in his cheek - and he was all you could think about for the rest of the day.

 V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

 Ezra is a talker - before and after the Green. However, for the most part, when he’s in bed, he’s content to rein it in and let you be the one to speak. 

But when he does get caught up in the moment, when he does let himself go, it pushes you over the edge too quickly for you to even think about it much. It’s not that he says filthy things, but the way he speaks? He could be talking about the weather, and as long as he’s murmuring into your ear, his beard rubbing against your cheek, hands roaming your body? It doesn’t matter.

 It never mattered, and he knows it. 

 Ezra’s vocabulary is much larger than anyone else you’ve ever met, and even though there was a short period of time where it was almost too much for you because you thought it was an act, you quickly realized that he didn’t speak just to speak - it isn’t because he likes hearing himself talk, even though that’s what so many other people believe about him. 

 Hearing the man speak - and speak to you in the way that he does, praising you, giving you directions, begging you - dreaming about it was enough to get you through the years he was missing. Countless nights, you woke up to an empty and silent room, straining your ears to catch the fading remnants of your dreams - his voice filling the dark corners, spreading through the spaces between the sheets. When that happened, you wondered if the same ever happened to him - on the Green Moon, surrounded by strangers. 

 Hearing it again for the first time? It didn’t matter that you were both fully clothed and flanked by other people - it brought every memory of him back all at once, and if you thought that you had to contain yourself from lunging at him, it’s nothing compared to what Ezra felt. 

 That first night back with you? After the first time you said his name, you didn’t get another word in. 

 W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

 Ezra is competitive. You knew it from the get go - watched the way that his eyes would take on that distinctive gleam when he was interested in making a wager with someone, or when he put his mind to doing something that he said he was going to do. You knew that when he was younger, he’d been competitive with his brother - both at home and on jobs - and his uncle, though that was more just because Ezra liked proving people wrong - and surprising them. He’s not scrawny now (at least not after a few months of recovery from the Green), but he was a scrawny teenager with some hidden arm strength, and he ended up surprising everyone more than a few times when it came to being able to hoist himself up and onto ledges, or to lift stones, wooden beams, machinery etc. 

 But when it comes to being competitive with you, things like proving you wrong about how long it’ll take him to get you off, how well he can read people, or just the way that it seems like he can guess your thoughts sometimes? You don’t understand it fully, and you wouldn’t ever bet against him in a public way because he’s right more often than not … but privately? You goad him on, and he knows it, but he’s more than happy to play the game, because it’s fun for him - and for you. 

 There are things he won’t ever be able to beat you in, just because you were raised differently and had more leisure time and exposure to things than him - but both of you know your limits, though he’s much more willing to test them than you. Ezra’s greatest challenge for himself when it comes to you is finding ways to surprise you. This is true before, during and after his time on the Green - and you don’t know it until much later on, but Ezra truly played the long game when it counted most.

 When it comes to being competitive, and testing limits, Ezra’s very careful to never let you put yourself in harm’s way. This probably sounds stupid - you don’t need a man to look out for you like that, you’re perfectly capable of setting your own limits and knowing when you’re approaching them - but with Ezra, the idea of turning things into a game ends as soon as he begins to worry. 

 You thought it was unnecessary at first, but as you got to know him, you began to understand that like so many things pertaining to the man, this was just another Ezra quirk; he was a lot of things - many of them you wouldn’t learn until well into your relationship, and even more that you wouldn’t learn until after his time on the Green - but at his core, Ezra was a gentleman. Especially when it came to you, and the other people that he loves: like Cee.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

 So, earlier I said that Ezra sees himself as “average” - and that applies to his body type, too. He’s an average height. He’s of an average build with arms that are slightly stronger than they look, due to years of hard, physical work both on and off planet. He’s never been what women would call muscular, but he takes care of himself - when he can. Admittedly, on the Green, things changed quite a bit about his build; he lost weight due to a very limited diet, his posture changed slightly due to the weight of the suit and the pack he carried for so long. His face hollowed out a little - everywhere except his cheeks. 

 The hair on his body is dark - like most of the hair on his head, but that’s the only place it’s thick. Arms and legs - average to below average amount of hair, no chest hair to speak of - all of that smooth, golden skin on display for you to look at and touch whenever given the opportunity.

 He had scars before the Green - sure. The one on his face, small ones on his forearms, even a few on his back, each of them healed to a various shade of silvery white, skin stippled and raised -standing out. But when he came home, there was another large scar added to the fray, one that he was very candid about. Roughly two and a half inches in length and one wide, Ezra walked you through the second wound from the Green that had almost killed him; Cee’s quick thinking stabilizing the punctured flesh just long enough to get them back to a qualified medical facility on a starship, then to the real Med Center on Central where they fully scraped it clean, and then by the time he was back on the Ephrate, the wound had begun to fully heal, though it would never be gone. It was large, and it was present, but it still wasn’t enough to distract you from the coarse, dark trail of hair that began a few inches to the right of it just beneath his navel, extending downward and past the waistband of his pants. That stayed the same, and though you’d made a joke the first time you’d seen it, remarking that you’d thought it would be blonde, too, fingers trailing through it as he laid in your bed, shirt off and belt unbuckled, pants pushed down just enough, there was nothing to joke about when it came to where it led. If you asked Ezra, his averageness extended below the belt, too, and while it was true that there wasn’t anything significantly exaggerated - one way or another - when it came to what he had to offer, you wouldn’t have described it as average. It was just Ezra, the same way you came to know every other part of him; inch by inch, the smooth length fitting well against your palm and between your curved fingers; the head slipping past your lips for the first time and settling heavily against your tongue. 

 What was so special about Ezra wasn’t his physical attributes, though you reminded him often of how handsome you thought he was - both verbally and based on the way you touched him - if he behaved like he couldn’t get enough of you and your body, you responded in kind, never holding back when it came to indulging in his form, or in the things you loved about him. (And let me be clear - you love everything about him physically, and wouldn’t want him to change a thing, both before and after the Green.)

 It was the way he presented himself, the way he utilized what he had been given. He never outright apologized for what he presumed to lack, but the way he moved - the way he held your body against his; the practiced movement of his hips and hands, the controlled thrusts that never failed to drive you wild - was all the proof you needed that Ezra wasn’t a man that felt he could rely on his looks or a woman being overwhelmed by what she was presented with. He’d accepted what he had to offer the world, and made it work for him.

 It made you respect him more. 

 In your opinion, Ezra drew the attention of everyone that laid eyes on him, but he never let that kernel of truth sink in and take root, and despite the way he presented himself - confident, competent, unconcerned - he had plenty of insecurities. 

 In an attempt to make him laugh one night after his return to you, when you were talking about your pasts - prior partners and failed relationships, the years you’d spent apart, how you’d kept busy - Ezra’s mood soured, and you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was going to default to downplaying his worth and place in your life. Instead of letting him sink, you looked him dead in the eyes and told him exactly what you thought of him - reminding him of something he’d said to you early on in your relationship about how he approached life. 

 “It’s not about the size of the gun, Ezra. It’s all about how you use it, right?” You could have been talking about anything - His remaining arm, the scars, his trauma, his experience, his build, his upbringing - but in that moment, you were talking about him, and everything he meant to you. “I’ve never been disappointed in that.” He was silent, which you weren’t surprised by, and instead of pulling back from him, you leaned in, your fingers combing through his hair, his head turned toward you on the pillow, deep brown eyes wide. “And I never will be.” 

 Everything that Ezra was - you readily accepted, especially physically - and you knew that sometimes, he just needed to hear it again. 

 Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

 He’s got a high sex drive, but isn’t all that motivates him. Throughout his prospecting (and mining, and exploration, and educational) careers, he got used to not having sex for months (years) at a time. And it sucked, but that was the life he chose. So when he was on-planet, he made the most of his time and the people that he was with. 

 For Ezra, sex isn’t just about the physical aspect of things - it’s the lead up and the follow through. It’s the whole process, and it’s what it means. Not that all sex for him is meaningful in the same way - but no matter who he’s with, he gets something out of it, even if it’s only a memory, or a release or a way to pass a night or two.

 But when he comes back home, and realizes that he’s got the option to be with you again? That you still want him as much as he wants you - as he always wanted you? He’s insatiable, even though he’s very hesitant to just pick up where you left off. 

 The two of you had a lot of time to make up for, and even though you needed to take things slowly - he was still healing, after all - he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. You took time off of work so that you could spend it with him and Cee, getting to know her (and Ezra, all over again), and it was almost painful for him to have to wait to be alone with you until Cee was sleeping or in school, or he’d been cleared by the medical team, or until he’d found it in himself to begin telling you about his time on the Green. Since it meant, though, that he was back with you? He was willing to wait as long as it took. … just not very patiently. (But that’s fine, you were just as anxious to have him in your bed again as he was to get there.) 

 Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

 Ezra tends to relax very quickly when he’s spent, but that doesn’t mean that he goes to sleep right away. You might not move a lot, but there are nights where you spend hours together in bed, quietly talking or just touching each other, both of you unwilling to let your eyes close. It’s another challenge for him; keeping the two of you talking, even if they’re only quiet words, murmurs and half sentences.

 This is especially true right before he leaves; you know why he’s going, what he hopes to prove, and even though deep down, you know he knows that it’s just as unnecessary as you’ve told him it is, you also know that you won’t deter him from the decision he’s made. So you both force yourselves to stay awake as long as possible, filling yourselves with each other for as long as possible. Yes, there are nights when you do fall asleep immediately - you can’t help it - but that’s not the norm. Just like with any other topic, Ezra craves knowledge about you, and knows that the minutes you spend next to him after you’ve finished with each other tend to lead to you be more open, more honest - more candid - and he takes advantage of them; soaking everything he can get of you up. 

The sheets and pillowcases smell like the two of you, and your skin is damp, slick with sweat, but he’s focused on you, making the most of every moment, because he knows that like with everything in life, there are a finite number of these, and he doesn’t intend to waste them. (You’re the same with him, and if you didn’t have a grasp on just how deeply you loved him, it would have concerned you to be so wrapped up in someone else that you’d willingly lose hours of sleep over them.)

---

Tag list: (If you want to be added, please let me know!) @the-blind-assassin-12 @pheedraws @alraedesigns @jynrumbly

[boqvistsbabe]

Yeet - Adam Boqvist

*not my gif*

This is currently the title cause I don’t know what else to call it so. Also this is shitty and I know it is. It wasn’t planned and then I procrastinated it but I can’t start on the planned stuff till this is done because my brain is being dumb. Anyways here it is and I hope it doesn’t flop.

Warnings: none that I know of but if you see any lmk

Word count: 2,400

A/n: tried to make it as gender neutral as possible but I might’ve slipped up so if I did please let me know so I can fix it!

NOT EDITED

~~~~~~~~~

You woke up with a terrible headache and it had just gotten worse as the day went on and your coworkers weren’t helping. It seemed every single time you turned around someone needed something and you ended up getting none of your own work done. And on the way home traffic was terrible and to add on it started raining. So by the time you got home you were just ready to crawl in bed and stay there for the next week.

When you walked in the front door and saw the guys on the couch playing video games and you could tell they were invested in the game so you just mumbled a quick hello and then went upstairs to Adam’s room. You could go to your room but Adam’s room was cozier. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. The first thing you do when you walk in the room is change into some of Adam’s sweats and one of his hoodies before turning the lights off and crawling under the covers. Before you could even settle fully there was a soft knock at the door before it was opened and you heard someone shuffle across the floor before feeling the bed dip and a hand on top of your resting form.

“Hey are you okay?” At the sound of Adam’s soft voice you poked your head out of the covers to meet his eyes. You couldn’t even get the words out and you just shook your head as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Oh älskling come here.” He said, moving closer to you and opening his arms so you could crawl into them. When you were tucked into his side he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “When you’re ready tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

When you had calmed down enough to tell him what had happened he wiped your tears away as he listened. And when you were done he kissed you forehead before getting up and walking out the door. You would question him but your headache had gotten even worse after crying, so you just laid down and pulled the covers up over your head again.

A few minutes later you heard him walk into the room.

“Hey kärlek, I’m gonna need you to sit up and take this.” He said softly though as to not make your headache worse.

You sat up and took the glass of water and the Exedrin from him before quickly swallowing the pill and following it with the water.

“Do you feel any better?”

“Adam, bud I just took it they don’t work that fast.”

“Oh yeah right sorry.” He responded sheepishly.

“No you’re good, thank you for the water and the medicine. You can go back to playing games with the boys.”

“What, no? Why would I leave,” he said with a frown, “You’re not feeling well so I’m gonna stay up here and cuddle you cause you need cuddles. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You went to argue but he just gave you a look and you shut your mouth and rolled your eyes before laying back down. Once you were settled under the covers you look up at Adam, expecting him to be getting in bed with you.

“I’m gonna change into sweats so I’m more comfortable.” He said before promptly standing up and starting to undress. Which while it wasn’t unusual that he did something like that, lately you were finding yourself looking away so you wouldn’t get caught starring.

Once Adam was done he crawled under the covers next to you and pulled you back into his bare chest. Your face heated at the motion, though you had no idea why. You had cuddled with him many times but maybe it’s because for some reason this time felt different. But at the moment you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, you had a warm Adam behind you that was kind enough to take care of you and leave his friends to keep you company, and you were going to take advantageous that. So you snuggled further under the covers and into Adam’s chest and fell asleep moments later; missing the kiss Adam pressed to your temple before tightening his arms around you.

When you woke up a little while later, Adam was gone. In his place there was instead Burt and Ralph. You rolled over to check your phone to see a message from Adam saying he was picking up dinner and would be back in a little bit. So you texted back an “okay” before continuing to go through your missed notifications.

You were getting restless and you felt better so you decided to go downstairs. When you got down there Kirby and Alex were still playing video games and Lyndsey was watching something on her phone so you decided to go sit on the couch by her. You grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and curled up under it, your head felt foggy and closing your eyes made it better.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you had. This time you woke up to Adam crouched in front of you, his hand on your knee and his soft voice coaxing you to wake up and eat. When he saw your eyes were open, he stood and reached his hands out for you to grab. He pulled you up and gestured for you to go ahead of him to the kitchen. You got to the island where the food was sitting. Before you could start digging in like everyone else, you felt someone tap your shoulder so you turned. And found Adam standing there with a suspicious smile on his face before he pulled flowers out from behind his back. Your favorite flowers to be exact.

“I thought you could use a pick me up and I saw these and I knew they were your favorite so I got them for you.” He said handing you the flowers.

You grab them from him and set them on the counter before turning back to him and pulling him into a hug. Tucking your face into his neck you mumbled a “thank you” and he squeezed you closer to him. You both stay like that for a minute before

“Are you two gonna eat or just gonna stand there?” Came Kirby’s voice from behind you.

Adam and you both immediately let go of each other. Adam went to the food and you picked up the flowers and smelled them before going over to the cabinet to look for a vase. The only vase you could find was on the top shelf. You were seconds away from climbing on the counter to grab it, when you felt a hand on your lower back and a tattooed arm reached past you and grabbed the vase from the shelf and set it on the counter. Adam pressed a kiss to the side of your head then went back to get his food. You had to stop yourself from thinking he was trying to tell you something. You knew it was just because he knew you weren’t feeling well, nothing more. You pushed the thought about how he only did this for you to the back of your brain, not letting yourself go down that rabbit hole.

It was a little while later when you all were done with food and watching a movie in the living room. You were sitting in between Adam and Kirby. Ralph was curled up next to you and you were mindlessly petting him as you watched the movie and tried to keep sleep at bay once more. Adam got up to go do something in the kitchen and Burt followed him in hopes of getting food. You were once again failing at staying awake and your head dropped to Kirby’s shoulder and he pulled you close so you were cuddled up to him. Which you in no way minded since he was a human space heater. You causing Alex’s eye and he gave you a look that you didn’t even want to begin to decipher and shook your head, going back to watching whatever dumb movie this was.

“I leave for one minute to go get you water and exederin and you chose to cuddle him? I’m hurt” you opened your eyes to find Adam standing at the doorway of the room with a slight frown on his face.

“You left I can’t cuddle you from another room.” You responded, your sentence almost getting cut short from a yawn escaping.

“Well I’m back now so cuddle me and not him. After you take the medicine though.” Adam said as he sat back down after setting the glass on the coffee table in front of you and handing the pill to you after you sat up.

Once you had taken the medicine and drank some water, you shifted so you could curl into Adam’s side, legs tangling without a second thought. He grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and settled it over the top of you both. You heard Kirby mumble something that sounded like “whipped” before Adam moved under you and you heard a soft “ow” from Kirby a second later. You assumed Adam hit Kirby but at the moment you only cared about the sleep that was tugging your eyelids down once more.

You woke up to someone carrying you up the stairs. When you opened your eyes Adam happened to look down and find you looking up at him.

“Hey you can go back to sleep, I was just gonna take you up to my room so you could sleep more comfortably.”

“Your room hmm?” You questioned with a smile.

“Well yeah, you always say my best is more comfortable than yours. Plus I sleep better next to you.” He said the last part nonchalantly as if it didn’t make your heart flutter.

When he made it to his room he walked over to the bed and gently set you down before moving to the bathroom to get ready for bed. You looked at where he was standing at the bathroom counter, brushing his teeth. It was as if your body moved in its own account when you got up to stand behind him and wrapped your arms around him.

“Thank you for taking care of me today. You didn’t have to.” Your voice muffled from how your face was pressed into his back. He turned around before wrapping his arms around you.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I love you and I hate it when you’re not feeling well.” He responded.

You quickly pulled back and looked up at him. You both have said you loved the other before, but only when you were drunk.

“You love me?”

“Of course I love you, I thought you knew.”

“If I had know I would’ve told you I loved you too a long time ago.” You chuckled, moving forward to wrap your arms around him once more. Adam broke the silence with his giggles.

“What are you laughing at you dork?”

“Well I love you and you love me so that means I can do this.” He said before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. When you pulled away you both had big smiles on your faces. And then you yawned.

“Way to ruin the moment there babe.” You hated to admit it but your heart fluttered at the pet name.

“Well sorry I’m tired, but my boyfriend is keeping me from going to bed.” Was your response as you looked up at him with a big smile.

“Boyfriend huh?” Was the only thing he said before picking you up and walking back into the room before dropping you on the bed.

“Yeah boyfriend.” You said as he crawled into bed next to you. You leaned over to kiss him one more time before curling up against him and falling asleep.

You woke up before Adam the next morning. As you waited for him to wake up, you scrolled through your phone. It was about five minutes later when you got bored with that. So you set your phone aside and rolled back over to face Adam. He was sleeping peacefully as the the sun shined through the windows and onto his skin. You reached a hand up and started gently tracing the lines of his face. You knew he was awake when the corners of his mouth curled up.

“Mmm good morning.” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning sunshine.” You said with a smile before leaning over and pressing your lips to his. Before you could pull back his hand slid into your hair and held you there. He deepened the kiss as he moved to hover his body over yours. His free hand had just dipped under his your sweatshirt when his door opened.

“Finally! But also gross.” You heard Kirby say from the doorway as Adam let out a soft displeased groan at being interrupted. He turned his head to look at his best friend.

“Is there something you need or are you just gonna stand there and watch us?”

“Hey!” You said as you whacked his arm.

“I was joking babe. It’s not like I’d wanna share anyway.”

“Well,” Kirby interjected before you could say anything else, “ I was coming up here to wake you both up for breakfast but it seems like you two are busy so I’ll just leave ya to it.” He winked and shut the door.

Adam turned back to look at you and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled as his hand cupped your cheek.

You turned your head to press a kiss to his palm.

“I love you.”

“I love you too älskling.” He said as he pecked your lips once more.

“I KNEW IT!!! ALEX THEY SAID THEY LOVE EACH OTHER, THEY’RE FINALLY DATING!!” You heard Kirby yell from the other side of the door.

“Oh my Godd.” Adam mumbled as he dropped his weight into you and tucked his face into your neck. You smiled as you ran your hand through his hair. Yeah you could definitely get used to this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry you can tell how I rushed it at the end. It’s definitely not the best I could do.

Tag list: @stars-canucks @prettyboycozens @sidscrosbyy @joshsandersons @pierreslucdubois @no-pucks-given @augustrainfall

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[writing-gifts]

both sides of the viewfinder ch. 2

adult film star!bruno x afab!reader  (they are also gn)

18+ content

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4

-----

A/N:  okay so this story is actually 4 chapters long now, the 2nd chapter was way longer than i would have liked (and taking too long to edit all at once) so i split it in half 

um ig that's it, there’s a cheating scenario porn being filmed this chapter, like its literally the beginning of this chapter so warning for that 

other than that i hope you like the chapter!

-----

You hold back the laugh in your chest and try your best to keep a relaxed face. But you didn't have great control when it came to stuff like this and realized quickly in life that you probably wouldn't make it as an actor. However the director still thought it was fine to put you in as an extra with speaking parts.

He said your acting didn't need to be believable or good just that you need to say the lines. That was objectively true--it was porn--but if you cracked a smile people would definitely notice.

You were playing the oblivious person having a conversation with your "best friend". And said friend was getting railed in the shower by your boyfriend who was being played by Bruno. Why you were trying to have a serious conversation while she was showering was completely lost on you. But it didn't have to make sense.

You stare at yourself in the mirror above the sinks. The way the restroom was set up had the shower and toilet in its own separate, little room. So it wasn't completely easy to tell what your friend was really up to.

"My boyfriend's been acting strange recently," you say. You try to sound down but come off more inconvenienced.

"What do you mean?"

The door to the shower room was open so you could hear your friend well even with the water running. So of course you notice her voice wobble at the end. You can't tell if she added that intentionally or if Bruno found a particularly good spot. You ignore it though since you weren't actually supposed to notice anything just yet.

"He doesn't seem very interested in me anymore? Like he doesn't want to have sex with me. And it's kinda weird since he always wanted to before!"

"Ah--!"

“Huh?” you reply, genuinely confused. That wasn't on the script but you knew pretending you didn't hear it would be worse.

“Ahhh, maybe something has been upsetting him recently?” she suggests.

"Oh...perhaps you're right." You move to pull out your phone from your pocket. "It's been bothering me so much so maybe I'll call him right now--"

"D-Don't stop!"

You turn towards the shower room. "What? Are you good? You sound like you're exercising in there."

"Yes yES--I'm good! Just hot in here…"

That sounded so real and it has you wondering what the hell Bruno's doing.

You pause for a split second too long and almost forget to say your next line. "Uh so you...don't want me to call him?"

"No, don't call him. You should s-speak to him in person!" Your friend seemed to finally get her voice under control.

"Oh! That's definitely a better idea." You put your phone away. "I think I'll head home now actually and wait for him. Thanks for hearing me out!"

With that you exit the bathroom set and breathe a sigh of relief. Now all that was left to do was wait for filming to finish and then you could head home for the day.

You join the crew and from where you're standing you can easily watch the two actors go. It was actually kind of nice to watch.

While you stare, Bruno seems to glance in your direction. You raise a brow, wondering why he looked over here and turn around to look behind you, but there's nothing of note there.

-----

"You're not going home yet?"

You turn in your chair. Bruno stands at the door watching you with crossed arms.

"Nope. I'm finishing this up for one of the editors--they weren't feeling well--and I don't want to take it home with me."

"I see," he says. He then walks in the room and pulls up a chair next to you which catches you off guard.

"You don't have to stick around! I'm probably gonna be here up until midnight."

"That's okay. I don't want to leave you here all alone. What are you editing anyways?"

"Well I'm working on one of your porns. The one you did last week."

Bruno leans forward, getting in your space, to see the screen.

"Ah, the one with Leone! That one was really nice, but I always enjoy working with him."

"Yea the two of you have great chemistry."

Abbacchio was a grumpy bitch but somehow the two of them got along pretty well. Bruno seemed to get along with most people easily though.

The man places his elbow on the desk and rests his head in his hand.

"So did you like it?"

"Like what?" you ask.

"The film."

The look in his eye was one that was quite familiar but why it was there, you weren't completely sure.

You feel your heart skip a beat. "I mean...I did."

Bruno smiles and you immediately feel yourself getting hot.

"What did you like about it? If you don't mind me asking."

A small smile comes to your lips. "W-Well you're in it, that's one. I like when I can tell the actors are genuinely having a good time. And both you and Abbacchio are attractive. Your m-moans were pretty nice too."

"They sound better when they come naturally hm?"

"Can't disagree with that!"

You turn your attention back to the screen. As much as you'd like entertaining Bruno you still need to get this done.

"You seem less reserved in person compared to when we message on Twitter."

"Really? It's usually the opposite for people…" you say.

"I know that's why I find it interesting." The man pauses for a moment before talking again. "Remember when you said you watched some of my work?"

You nod.

"For fun?"

You raise a brow but still answer. "I like to judge the camerawork, but sometimes I do for fun.”

Even though you were kind of over porn, there were the few times that you used it to help get off. And when you did you usually found yourself seeking out media involving Bruno.

Bruno lets out a laugh. "That's good to know."

You purse your lips at his smug expression. The man is definitely trying to mess with you. Of course you didn't mind some teasing but being the only one receiving wasn't your forte. Also you didn't want to be here all night.

"I need to finish this. You can stay but you can't keep distracting me like that..."

"Of course."

You look at him warily before getting back to work. Even though Bruno didn't really seem it, he definitely had a mischievous side.

The man watches the screen (and sometimes you), keeping you company with more innocent chat while you work. It actually makes time pass by faster.

You end up finishing earlier than you expect and thank Bruno for staying with you. The man offers to drive you home but you decline and take the bus instead.

The moment you're in your bedroom, your body hits the bed--no night routine or clothes change. You'd just have to deal with it in the morning.

It barely feels like you've been asleep before you hear your alarm go off. You grab your phone and shut it off.

Sighing, you risk closing your eyes for a few more seconds. You weren't ready to go back to work but after a minute you force yourself out of bed and stretch.

You head straight to the bathroom to start your day by brushing your teeth and multi-task with your phone--checking your work email and replying to any missed messages that you didn't get to last night. Other than that your morning starts off pretty uneventful.

While you're eating breakfast you get a message on Twitter.

Bruno: Morning.

You reply with your own good morning. The message surprised you but it was a pleasant one.

Bruno: How are you feeling? Not too tired I hope.

You: i'm okay now that i've had some coffee

You: how's your day going so far?

Bruno: The usual. I'm walking over to a restaurant nearby to get something to eat.

You: ooo sounds yummy 😋

You: what ya gonna get?

Bruno: I'm not sure yet but I'll send a picture when I do.

you: noo i'll be jealous, i'm literally eating cereal right now. but also please do send it

Bruno: I can bring you a to-go box if you want.

Your spoon stops halfway to your mouth.

You: i mean it's still good cereal so you don't have to

Bruno: It's fine. I like feeding people, at least that's how one of my friends phrased it!

You: well…..okay 👉👈

You: thanks ❤

Bruno: You're welcome.

Bruno: ❤

-----

"Off day today?" you ask.

Bruno drags his fingers through his hair and sighs. Other than that, he doesn't show any frustration.

"I planned for today to be short, then I could head home but as you can see it's not really going as planned. And all these lights…." He looks at you. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you're tired too."

"No, no it's okay. It’s totally my fault! We can take a break if you want?"

The studio had been dabbling with more amateur work lately so the director had left you and Jocelyn to handle this, and Jocelyn had decided it would be fine if you were on your own for this film. You weren't sure why you agreed since you had only been here about a month at this point and didn't feel completely comfortable. But you did and it was proving to be very nerve wracking. It affected your work and dragged this out longer than necessary.

“And honestly, I should probably take one too," you add.

Bruno agrees and you grab the man's robe and place it on his shoulders. While He slips back on his briefs you turn to the small crew.

“Guys lets take a 15 minute break.”

Everyone gives their okays and most of the crew leaves the room while a few check the equipment or their phones.

You tell Bruno where you're going and head outside to get some fresh air.

You try to use the time to relax but instead end up walking back and forth, worrying about the film and Bruno. The man was still able to act the part but you stopping and going so often was definitely affecting his performance. And you really didn't want him to have to act out every motion.

You stop walking and lean against the wall of the building. While waiting for the break to end you see someone approaching from the parking lot. The editor you helped before when they weren't feeling well.

You push yourself off the walls and meet them part way with a greeting.

"Hey Eli."

"What's up ____...You good? You look kinda stressed."

"I guess I am. Sorry for asking so suddenly but could you do me a favor?"

"What type of favor?"

"I'm supposed to film this amateur video of Bruno masturbating, and I've been having a hard time for some reason. I don't want to keep Bruno trapped here all day for something like this. But I don't know if my shots are usable...Do you think you can check for me?"

They hum in thought. “____ I'm going to be honest with you. It sounds like you're overthinking this. I mean, it’s called amateur for a reason. It doesn't need to be super high quality or “perfect” shots! That's probably why they let you direct it on your own."

At that moment everything clicked.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way though!"

"No, you're right. Thanks!"

You leave before they can respond and head back to the set room. On your way there, you go find a different camera. Something smaller and less complicated that will still capture good quality shots--perfect for what you were about to do.

When everyone returns from their break you have most of the lights brought down and let the whole crew go.

"Bruno I know you do videos on your own. So we're pretty much gonna do it like that now. Except that I'm here...uh.” You laugh. “You know what I mean."

Bruno smiles at the camera in a way you could only describe as cute.

"I understand. I’m ready to go whenever you are."

You nod and give the signal.

Right away, his light smile transforms into something more alluring. He leans back on the multiple soft pillows set against the headboard and lets out a relaxed sigh.

You give Bruno a moment to prepare himself and when you see the outline of his cock already hardening through his briefs, you internally breathe a sigh of relief.

"It's been awhile since I've last done this."

He props a arm atop the pillows. "Now that it's happening, I just realized I've missed it."

You want to ask what he means but bite your lip instead. Maybe it was some type of roleplay.

He drags a hand up his thigh before stopping at the bulge between his legs, and you can't help the thought of running your own hands against those legs.

He hums. "You know, I have a hard time keeping you out of my mind at night."

Your stomach flips but you make sure to keep your breathing controlled.

His thumbs hook under the band of his briefs and you lean a bit forward without thinking, anticipating what you had seen many times before. But for the first time in a long time you feel yourself slipping from your work frame of mind. Maybe it was inappropriate but you were sure Bruno wouldn't mind.

After teasing you for way longer than you would like, the corners of Bruno's lips quirk upward and he finally pulls down the band to reveal himself.

Bruno's cock stands erect and his brow furrows. "Look what you're doing to me..." His head lolls to the side to rest against the pillows and his breath hitches when he begins to stroke himself.

You focus on his handsome face for a moment. His blue eyes are piercing and it feels like he's looking past the camera and straight at you at you.

Your fingers twitch on the camera. You'd never wanted to touch someone so bad in your life.

-----

Bruno: Can I get your advice on something?

You: yea, what is it?

Bruno: I want to post some photos on my OnlyFans but idk which one to use on Twitter though. Can you help me decide?

You: ooo of course!

He sends 3 pictures of him wearing different elaborate lingerie. They must have been new since you're sure you'd never seen them before. Anyways, you're a millimeter away from sending a photo of a cartoon character with their jaw on the floor.

You: idk if i can decide! any of them would be enough to get me on your onlyfans...

Bruno: Thank you but you still have to pick one.

You scroll back and forth looking through them. The pictures were teasing, hinting at what was to come and they were all very sexy. But after staring for too long you finally make a choice.

You: the third one!

Bruno: Why?

You: ….it shows your tiddies the most 💁

Bruno: I thought you were going to say something about the framing or lighting...

You: LOL

You: i can look at them again?

Bruno: No it's okay. I'll use the tiddy picture.

Bruno: Thank you.

You: no problem!

You: soooo when are you posting the full set?

Bruno: Trust me, I'll let you know right beforehand. 😏

You: 😳

-----

You walk down the hallway slightly annoyed. Jocelyn just informed you that you would be covering for one of your coworkers last minute. It was inconvenient but not that big of a deal. That is until you found out that Melone was one of the actors.

When you first met him, he seemed to keep to himself for the most part. But recently he had become fixated on you. Every break in filming he’d approach you.

At first it wasn't so bad and you thought he was trying to be friendly, but it didn't take long for you to start feeling uncomfortable. Some of the questions he asked made you feel weird--it wasn't anything you weren't used to but the way he asked them... And when you tried to steer the conversation into a different direction he didn't take the hint. On top of all this, you didn't see him do this with anybody else.

You walk into the breakroom and find Bruno snacking. He greets you but quickly realizes something's up.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

The leather couch that you hate creaks when you fall back on it.

“Well I have to unexpectedly help with more camera work today. And Melone's going to be there so he's definitely going to be talking my ear off.”

You try to sound indifferent about it but Bruno says something you don't expect.

"I can talk to Jocelyn and get you out of it."

"Huh? No, no you don't need to do that. That's a silly reason to try to skip out."

"Well, how about I say it like this? I'm done for today and I would like to take you out to eat with me."

You smile. "That does sound nice..."

"Okay, it's settled then. I'll go talk to her and then we can go."

Once Bruno comes back the both of you walk to his car.

"Eating mostly oatmeal and vegetables for the last 2 days hasn't been very satisfying," he says as he opens the passenger door for you.

You get in and wait for him to walk around to get in the driver side.

"It sucks but at least you can eat whatever now. Where are we eating by the way?"

"Bertolino's--it's nearby. I'm craving pizza. Or pasta."

You feel your stomach grumble pleased with the thought.

"You could do both, kinda like macaroni pizza."

Bruno glances at you. "That sounds...unpleasant."

"Oh so you've tried it?"

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

You watch him try to wrack his brain for a rebuttal and fail.

"...It still sounds bad though," he says.

"Try it first then we can talk."

You reach out and poke the man's cheek. He immediately shoos your hand away and throws a miffed look at you.

"Hey, I'm trying to drive."

You grin but leave him alone. This was the first time you'd get to spend time with Bruno outside of work so you were a little restless and couldn't help messing with him.

"This is probably the most excited I've seen you," he says.

"Yea--just happy to be outside of work!"

"Is Melone that much of a problem?"

"No...well he can be a lot but it's not really a big issue. I'm just happy to get to spend time with you is what I meant."

Bruno's doesn't respond right away and you wonder if you said something wrong.

"If he's bothering you I can handle it," he finally says.

You let out a laugh. "Are you going to beat him up?"

"If necessary."

You stop smiling when you realize he isn't joking and conclude that he doesn't like Melone. You wonder what the man could have done to get on Bruno's bad side though since he seemed to get along with everyone.

"I feel the same by the way," Bruno says.

"Huh?"

"About getting to spend time together."

You and Bruno spend the next hour and a half sharing a pizza and talking. And the two of you learn a few things about the other that didn't involve work. Like that he wears glasses to read and that he had a dyeing "accident" with his hair recently.

Afterwards you didn't really feel like going back to work so Bruno drives you home.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. "Thanks for the meal and ride."

Bruno smiles. His mood seems better now that he's eaten. "You're welcome. We should do this again sometime."

"Yeah, I'd like that." And instead of saying goodbye and getting out of the car, you sit there expecting--expecting something.

The both of you stare at one another until Bruno leans towards you. His lips meet yours and for some reason his breath smells like mint.

Before you can worry about your own breath, Bruno's hand is on your thigh and sliding up. His tongue presses against your lips, coaxing you to part them.

The beating in your chest feels so hard and your hands clinch next to your thighs. You want to reach out for Bruno and make a mess out of him, but you feel like you're running out of breath way too quickly.

You pull away.

Bruno immediately moves his hand off your leg. "What's wrong?"

You weren't really sure yourself. You just knew something was bothering you. Or maybe that was just the food you ate trying to digest. Either way it was preventing you from fully enjoying this.

"I'm not sure but I think it's best if we stop for now."

He nods but you worry he might be a little disappointed.

"That's fine," he says.

"It's not because I'm not interested! It's just something's off. Please dont think I'm not attracted to you."

"I'm not upset ____." He smiles. "I want you to be comfortable."

"Whew, okay.."

"Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?" he asks.

"That's okay. Thanks though."

You brush a misplaced hair behind his ear and press a quick kiss to his lips. Once you pull back, you open the car door and step out.

"Stay safe," he says.

"You too. I'll message you later."

[averyonelovesjack]

learning to raise a baby ~ daniel seavey

requested: yes:)

Can you please do an cute imagine about y/n and Daniel having a baby together and taking care of the baby and figuring the parenting stuff out together. Ur amazing

summary: follow a few different events in the life of daniel and y/n learning to raise a baby.

warning(s): baby, literally too lazy to edit this i’ll come back later lmao

word count: 2608

author’s note: i have such baby fever omg 

disclaimer: i def need to clarify that i am 18 years old and do not have a baby and i have no close friends with babies (in person, at least) therefore this is purely fiction. i watch a LOT (i mean A LOT) of family vloggers and like teen mom accounts raising their kids, so basically all of my knowledge comes from that. i hope no one takes offence to my depiction of it, but my intention is purely just to write this cute fic idea, and i don’t want to pretend like i know anything about parenting or raising a child or anything like that!! okay that’s all!!

I could barely see my feet as I painfully took in another breath of air and started walking forward. Awoken at 3am with terrible back pain and a pool of amniotic fluid at my waist, Daniel and I now rushed to grab our hospital bag and make our way to the labor and delivery section of our nearest hospital. 

everything went so fast. before i was actively having a child, it felt like my pregnancy would never end, but now that it’s actually happening and i’m having a child, it felt like pregnancy flew by.

just a few days ago, i was sitting on the countertop in my bathroom, impatiently waiting to see if i was pregnant or not in hopes that daniel wouldn’t get home from the studio early and find me. i had just given daniel the surprise of his lifetime when i woke him up at four am to tell him i was pregnant because i just couldn’t keep it from him anymore to do a fun reveal. i remember how we both cried, too excited to even go back to sleep. 

just a few days ago, daniel and i were sitting in my obstetrician’s office as we got to hear our eight week old fetus’ heartbeat for the first time. we both cried. it feels like just a day or two ago we cut into a pink colored cake and found out that our precious baby girl would be coming. all of the breakdowns about what stroller to buy and which crib matches the nursey best felt like just moments ago. and now, all of a sudden, i’m ten hours into labor and i’m ready to push.

pushing was painful, but the thought of holding a sweet babygirl soon just kept me going. daniel squeezed my hand tight, standing by the end of the bed watching our beautiful daughter make her way into the world.

i gave the final push and soon i heard a cry that made everything in the whole world worth it. they say you never truly understand love until you’ve had a child, and as soon as i held our daughter, i felt an overwhelming sense of truth in that statement. i never knew such a distinct moment could be the greatest day of my life, but as soon as i laid my eyes on her, i knew that i would never get a day greater than this one. 

our daughter laid on my chest for a while as daniel sat by my head, holding both my hand and hers. eventually, the nurses cleaned her off a bit and wrapped her tightly in a swaddle for daniel to finally hold his daughter. i watched the tears fall from his bluer than ever eyes that never left her little face. by the way she settled in his arms and fell asleep, i knew i was going to have a daddy’s little girl on our hands. 

it felt like forever, just watching daniel and our baby getting to know each other. soon enough, though, the doctors finished with the stitches and i heard a knock at the door. 

within seconds, both of our parents came into the room, bearing wide smiles. daniel sat in the seat next to me, both of us staring at the beautiful baby in front of us. 

“does she have a name?” keri asks, slowly walking up to the two of us, careful not to be too loud. 

daniel and i look at each other, and then i give him the nod to tell everyone. “callista avery mae seavey.”

“our little baby callie.” i smile at the name. daniel and i both loved the name callie, but wanted it to be a nickname. avery was after his bandmate who really helped us through this whole preparing to be parents thing. mae was a pretty nickname from my side of the family that was good to separate avery and seavey. our little callie mae. 

***

it was three am and both of us were awake to callie’s loud screaming. turns out that daniel and i had a very colicky daughter who, when awake, wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. daniel was in the nursery trying to grab more diapers and wipes that, out of exhaustion, we forgot to restock last night when we ran out. i held callie in our arms, rocking her gently and trying to get her to go back to sleep. 

“does she have a dirty diaper?” daniel asks, placing the diapers in the corner of our messy bedroom. a few days into callie’s life, we realized we should’ve left the changing table in our bedroom until she was ready to sleep in the nursey, but both of us were too tired to even think about moving the furniture around. so for now the corner of the room was storage and a changing pad on the bench was our late night changing table. 

“i don’t think so.” i answer, giving him an exhausted look. “her diaper isn’t heavy and i tried to feed her, but she doesn’t seem to be hungry. i think she just woke up and is being colicky again.”

“how long did the doctor say the colic will last?” daniel asks. 

“she didn’t.” i sigh, going to take a seat on our bed as i continued to calm callie. daniel sat beside me. “go back to sleep, i got her.”

“no, i know you’ve been awake all night. try to go to sleep, i’ve got her.” daniel says, and then takes callie from me. “did you take melatonin tonight?”

“yeah.” i say. “i know your body goes through a lot of changes postpartum, but i’m really not liking the insomnia.”

“okay, well, you lay down, and i’m gonna sing to you both, okay?” daniel says and then starts to rock callie to sleep as i laid beside them. and then he started to sing softly. 

***

callie was born a little over three months ago and daniel and i haven’t had a date night since then. when we fearfully realized that last week, jack and anna were both quick to offer some help. we hadn’t felt comfortable leaving callie yet, especially since she wasn’t always the easiest. we had lots of help and people offering, but neither daniel nor i were good at asking for help. that’s definitely something we’re both still working on, especially now that we have a baby. 

finally though, jack and anna convinced us. originally, we were going to leave them with daniel’s parents, but anna and jack were pretty convincing. jack had lots of experience since he himself is a dad, and anna was very close with gabbie when she had lavender. jack also decided to invite zach for some more company, which was cute.

daniel and i had a hard time saying goodbye to callie, even though we really were only going to be out for two hours at most. we knew neither of us could stay away for that long. 

the restaurant wasn’t too far from the house, which was nice because it cut down on our time away from callie. i think both of us were a little nervous to leave her. we both know that she’s three months old and other people are more than capable of watching her for a few hours, but it’s still hard to not be worried about all of the things we could be missing out on.

“oh my gosh, anna just sent a picture of callie.” daniel says in the middle of our dinner, holding up his phone to show up me the picture of our daughter in the adorable pajamas her aunt bought. 

“i miss her.” i admit, knowing he was feeling similarly. “do you think they had a hard time getting her to sleep? i hope she’ll be good for them tonight.”

“i’m sure she was fine.” daniel says, then later . “you know, maybe we should skip dessert. relieve them a little early.”

“she’s growing up so fast.” i tell him. “i’m not ready for her to keep growing.”

“we’re gonna blink and she’s gonna be cursing us out because we wouldn’t let her go out with her friends.” daniel continues. “not that we would do that, because honestly, i’ve always thought we’d be a little cooler than that.”

i laugh at his comment. “oh, we’ll definitely be cooler than that. we’re not gonna be the lame strict parents that doesn’t let their kids go out with their friends.”

“oh definitely.” daniel agrees. “except i will be strict about doors open if someone is over. i don’t care who she’s in her room with, but that door better be open. i am taking no chances.”

“i feel like that’s fair.” i add. “i know we’re parents, but wow, until i think about that future, i kind of forget.”

“i’m very glad that’s a long ways away.” he comments. “i’m barely ready for her to be three months old, we do not need to get ahead of ourselves. take this parenting thing one step at a time.”

“i could not agree more.” i smile, leaning over the table to kiss daniel’s lips gently. 

***

i walked out of my one year old’s nursery with her in my arms. we watched as daniel and anna hung balloons up around our california apartment. it’s just about an hour before callie’s first birthday party, and now more than ever, i could not be more grateful for daniel’s family’s offer to help us set up. 

rather than fighting with figuring out food for the party, we decided to get it catered. christian and tyler offered to go pick up the food at the restaurant for us, which was extremely helpful. his parents were setting up some decorations around the front of the apartment. 

i had just put callie in her adorable dress that i specifically picked out for this party. we weren’t the type to throw parties, so we weren’t 100% sure what to do or what to expect, but we decided to just stick to family and close friends. callie was too young for us to strictly invite her friends over. at this stage in her life, her friends were whoever was at mommy&me that week. 

the party was going to be small. daniel’s family, my family, daniel’s bandmates and close friends, and then my close friends. 

thankfully, we finished decorating and setting up with about thirty minutes left to spare before the party. rather than worry, i decided to just sit on the couch with anna and daniel. keri took callie from me, wanting to spend some time with her granddaughter, and giving daniel and i a brief break before the party started. 

“i cannot believe she’s a year old.” anna exclaims to me. “you guys have been parents for a year. that’s crazy to think about.”

“it’s definitely a little bit weird.” i giggle in response. 

“you guys make it look so easy, being young parents.” anna says. “i know i’m younger than you guys, but still, i cannot imagine having a kid anytime soon.”

“i didn’t think i would either.” i tell anna. “for me, i wasn’t really ready until i met dani. i realized that i was ready because i wanted to do this with him. it’s different for everyone, i’m sure, but at least personally, that’s how i knew we could be parents.”

daniel wraps his arm around me on the couch, kissing my cheek softly. “yeah, it’s the same for me. when you find someone you want to do everything with, it gets easier to imagine yourself parenting together.”

“that is really cute.” anna says. “this is what i mean, when i say you make it look easy!!”

“it’s definitely not easy.” i laugh. “but it’s a little bit easier when you work as a team. we talk things through and decide together, instead of just making decisions separately. it’s a lot easier to feel like you’re making the right decision when you talk things through.”

“and that is all the parenting advice you get, because while i am most definitely ready to be a dad, i am not ready to be an uncle.” daniel says, getting protective over his younger sister. 

“being an uncle is way easier than being a dad.” anna laughs. “but trust me, i’m not having kids any time soon. at least not intentionally.”

“well, i have to be the cool uncle. someone’s gotta bail the kid out of jail and hide it from you.” daniel jokes.

“first of all, why would my kid go to jail??” anna asks. “and second of all, you might’ve been first in the race for cool uncle before callie arrived, but since becoming a dad, you’ve fallen behind. the cool uncle can’t have kids, that’s not how that works.”

“well i’ll break that standard, because i’ll be the cool uncle.” 

“i just want to be the aunt that gives good advice at one o’clock in the morning.” i tell them. “someone’s gotta do it. i expect that for callie, anna, so i will do that for your kids.”

“oh, of course. nothing but the best for callie. and future kids.” anna agrees. “speaking of, future kids? any thoughts on that? mom wants me to scope that out.”

“eventually.” i smile. “sooner rather than later.”

***

daniel took callie on a walk. he’s been really adamant about spending at least thirty minutes a day on a walk with her. now that she’s getting a lot more balance and ability to take a lot more steps, he loves taking her to the playground a few blocks from our apartment. usually, i like to go with them, but today i made up an excuse about things i had to get done at home.

i felt especially grateful for that routine of his today, because i needed a few minutes to myself. i’ve been feeling particularly nauseated recently, and as soon as i woke up the other day, i could feel that i was pregnant again. in the past, i had always thought that when i was paranoid about being late, but now that i’ve actually experienced pregnancy, i can feel that there’s a little fetus inside of me.

daniel and i haven’t exactly been trying, but we haven’t been taking as many precautions as we were when callie was first born. now that she’s over a year old, we feel better about having another baby. we weren’t too rushed, because we lot spending time with just our little girl, but we didn’t want to wait too long and have her grow up without a sibling. having a sibling was always a priority of daniel and i’s. seeing as we both grew up with siblings, we know how important it is to have a sibling. 

my stomach fluttered with butterflies as i followed the instructions on the pregnancy test. after realizing i was pregnant with callie, i had bought a ton of tests that i didn’t end up using because it was so obvious that i was indeed pregnant. that was extremely helpful for right now when i don’t have time to go sit in traffic for thirty minutes just to go to the pharmacy. 

i sat on top of the counter, leaving the pregnancy test face down while i tried to scroll through tiktok and distract myself. it was probably the slowest five minutes of my life, other than finding out about callie. 

the timer went off on my phone. i take a deep breath and carefully lift the pregnancy test off the marble bathroom counter.

pregnant. 

[sylvie-writes]

“I Wanna Be Just Like Mommy!”

a/n: this is to make up for my inactivity. (which is still ongoing lol bc school drains me)

Summary: a short hc to kick off my fall writing!

“Stevie! Wake up babe!”

Your husband groaned and curled into his side, pillow clutched to the side of his face as you leaned over his body, pressing kisses to his bare shoulder to wake him.

“ehhh.”

“C’mon! You promised Sarah and I to brunch today!”

At that, Steve shot up and looked at you, a worried look glossing over his face, his frown disappearing at your sweet smile.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry, I forgot! Give me like ten minutes.”

Steve then went to throw the covers off, when you pulled them back over him, shaking your head.

“It’s okay, silly. I was just waking you up early because I knew you forgot, after all you did have a mission yesterday.”

Steve Rogers was so grateful to have such a forgiving, and supportive wife.

Leaning forward with joy, he kissed you deeply, holding you close to him as you smiled into the kiss.

“Well, you rest up some more. I’m gonna go get ready, Sarah too. I’ll come wake you.”

You pressed a pucker to his cheek and dashed off to go wake Sarah, who was surprisingly in the kitchen.

As you walked passed, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the little girl at the kitchen counter, sitting with her plastic princess bowl and spoon in front of her, a quart of milk adjacent to the bowl.

“Mommy! I was trying to make cereal, but daddy put the box on the top shelf.”

Smiling, you walked to the little girl’s chair and kissed her messy nest of hair, patting her shoulder before venturing off to reach the box of Frosted Flakes.

Returning to Sarah, you helped her pour the milk and cereal, your daughter gladly accepting your assistance.

Finally, Sarah dug into the cereal, crunching it happily, even offering to share with you.

“Have some, mommy!”

Her little hand brought the spoon to your mouth as she fed you, just as you always did to her.

The two of you, were just as close as she was with Steve.

One of the things you shared with the little girl was your food.

Anytime you’d eat out, you’d put said food on a spoon or fork and feed it to her. Then in return Sarah would give you a chicken tender or an orange slice from her kids meal.

Not too long after, Sarah fisnihed her cereal, you finishing a cup of coffee along with her.

Dishes put away, you escorted Sarah to the bathroom where she got into the tub and proceeded to let you wash her up.

Minutes later, her knotted golden locks were dampened and you gently brushed them out as she sat on the toilet seat, telling of her adventures with Uncle Bucky at the museum where she saw some of Steve’s old pictures.

Sarah, just like you, was always interested to hear about Steve’s last. The 30’s/40’s seemed like an interesting era, and to hear about it from someone who wasn’t physically 100 years old was pretty cool too.

When her hair was dry, you did a little half up-half down, securing a pumpkin bow onto the ponytail.

The little girl still sat in her nightgown, outfit not yet picked out. Checking the time on your phone, the clock read 10:07 AM, meaning you should go get your shower, then change Sarah.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got to go shower myself, how about you watch some tv in my room while you wait?”

Like the most darling child she is, Sarah jumped off her seat and dashed into your bedroom, jumping on the bed, your side to be exact, Steve not even noticing, for he was in the deepest slumber ever.

You scrolled through the channels, stopping on nick jr. where some cartoon was playing, Sarah’s attention glued to it, allowing you to shower.

After you stepped out, you immediately picked up your outfit you had planned for today. Steve told you about the brunch last week and you just wanted an excuse to dress up.

So in honor of the fall weather, you bought a burgundy boucle knit sweater and some light denim jeans to kick off the season.

To complete the look, you wore black ankle wedge boots, paired with your wedding ring and a small necklace that was Steve’s mother’s.

Yes, your outfit was what some would call, aesthetically pleasing, for it was the epitome of fall.

As you were now dressed, you picked up Sarah from the bed, kissing Steve to wake up, which he did, and then going to change your daughter.

Once in her room, you set her down to search through the drawers when she stopped you with her little hands.

“Mommy, you look so pretty! I have a sweeter like that! Can we be twins?”

Her pronunciation and little baby eyes were so cute, as she begged to match with you.

Sooooo cute 🥺

Nodding, the girl ran around you and opened another drawer pulling out her own burgundy sweater as you fished around in your drawer for her denim jeans, which were slightly darker.

Handing her the outfit, she surprisingly dressed her self correctly, then going to sit on her bed, slipping on some socks. Which of course were mismatched.

As she did that, you went to the front door of the apartment, the mud room or drop zone so to say, and found her pair of boots. Brown leather ankle boots.

Sarah pulled on the boots and hopped off the bed, running to your bedroom. You were really hoping that Steve wouldn’t just walk out of the bathroom, naked, having forgot his clothes.

Relieved that he didn’t, you followed Sarah to your nightstand, where she handed you your phone.

“We need a picture, momma!”

Agreeing, you opened the camera and walked with her into the closet, using the floor mirror for a full outfit picture.

Duck faces, smiles, goofy grins, you must’ve taken at least fifteen pictures, ones you’d treasure for years to come.

After taking pictures, you and Sarah went to go sit on the couch, awaiting Steve who would be done any minute now...

“There are my pretty girls!”

Steve walked in, burgundy sweater of his own, jaw dropping as he was met with the two of you matching. Now apparently matching him too.

All three of you just burst into giggles.

“So are we going like this or am I gonna be the one to change.”

You walked over to Steve to hug him, Sarah joining in as Steve picked her up.

“No daddy! I think we all look pwetty like mommy.”

So before walking out, you all took one selfie, your burgundy sweaters prominent in the picture.

It definitely became your lock screen for the next few months.

And needless to say, everyone smiled at your family at the restaurant.

Captain America and family: matching trio.

Im so sad that this will never happen, but I’m so warm and fuzzy rn 🥺🥺

Sorry for any mistakes, I should be sleeping bc I have class early, so I didn’t edit this.

Tmrw I’ll add a read more button bc I wrote this on mobile 😐

[p---ink]

Stark Contrasts: Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Hey guys, an anon asked for angst, so I gave them a bunch of drama with this chapter. Though I personally wouldn’t classify this as angst, im gonna tag it that way. I think angst is more like a story with a depressing tone, but this is more so dramatic if anything.  But don’t worry I sprinkled in a bit of fluff and some smut to lighten it up a bit. This is a sequel to Stark Contrasts, which I recommend reading first in order to get a background of what led to this chapter. Caution, I used google translate, to add in some French. If any French readers find it offensive or wrong, let me know so I can take it out or edit it. I really hope you enjoy reading this chapter, it took me over a week to write due to writer’s block, but I am pretty happy with the outcome. Once again PLEASE DON’T REPOST MY WORK! 

Summary: Edward Stark realizes the errors of his ways towards the reader, and tries to woo her in order to save their relationship.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, cheating, age gap, daddy kink, etc. 

Song: From Eden by Hozier for the first half, and Run by Hozier for the second. 

Word Count: 11.2k.

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Chapter Title: Daddy Issues. 

So much had changed since your night with Tony. For one, the entire dynamics of your relationship. Long gone were the unsure lovers with unresolved sexual tension. You two were more confident in your affections now, and this made you reach a new level of comfort within each other and within yourselves. Through the eyes of a stranger, the description would be that of an old—in love, married couple. 

Though he was much older, you were the more mature one. Tony enjoyed doing things just to annoy you. He found your irritation both adorable and sexy. You would get so pouty, and your voice would go up at least three octaves. If he really did his job right, you would end up banging your small fists against his chest, which he thought was the cutest shit in the world. He took pleasure in poking the sides of your stomach, when you were performing tasks that took your attention away from him. “Kitten,” he’d whine when you were entranced in a book, “put that down, and come and play with me.” Then he would lay his head in your lap and talk about absolutely nothing until you noticed him. He only ever drew the line in his endeavors when you were studying. He preferred his head attached to his neck, rather than rolling on the ground. 

Besides always trying to piss you off, he religiously spoiled you rotten. That extravagant lace pale blue body con dress that you saw in your favorite shop? Better believe you’d find it on your bed the next day after Edward left for work and you were getting ready for classes. He would place expensive Cartier bracelets around your breakfast muffins, and bvlgari necklaces around the necks of gifted stuffed animals. He loved buying you luxurious gifts, ranging from earrings to bags. But besides your pleading for him to stop, he knew you struggled to find ways to hide it. If he happened to notice it, explaining to Edward where you got the money to pay for diamond encrusted rings would prove difficult. You were only able to wear your shiny new gifts when you were out with Tony; he found other ways to spoil you however. There were many days, where you had nothing planned, and he’d surprise you with a day at the spa, or a night on the sky in his private helicopter. If it had been up to him, everyone in the world would know you were his, but he just couldn’t risk being seen with you. Because of this fact, he had to become creative with the ways he treated you. From the rooftop dates in secluded towns to the lavish wine tastings alone in Napa, you had experienced more with Tony than you had in your entire life. When he could arrange bullshit business events for Edward to attend, he gave you bullshit reasons to fly with him to Paris, Italy, Greece, and everywhere in between. While Edward had his trips, the two of you had your own. 

Of course you always felt it was too much when he would do all of this. However, no matter how much you begged him to stop spending money on you, he never listened; it was like second nature for him to give you the world and more. He felt it necessary for someone he believed created the moon and stars. 

Most who knew him closely thought he was an asshole. He would often over-talk, dismiss, and challenge others. They always pinpointed on his shortcomings, forgetting that he was a good man in the process. He was a genius billionaire philanthropist, for fuck-sake, who many a time sacrificed his own desires for the wellbeing of others. This is why he always felt guilty. The one thing he kept to himself, the one thing he was not willing to give up, was you, even though you belonged to someone else. 

He just wouldn’t give you up though. Tony adored you. When the rest of the world felt like pollution in his lungs, you were his breath of fresh air. He was intoxicated by you. Enamored in your existence. He saw you as perfect which he knew was impossible in a world full of imperfections. 

He became obsessed with your hair, curious as to how it could defy gravity some days, then dance on your shoulders the next. He needed to know the secret on why the sun resided in your skin, giving it a mahogany glow, with golden undertones.  Your soft full lips, coffee-colored with a tint of pink, were his eternal bliss. It didn’t matter if you smelled of his sex the morning after or if your tired eyes were baggy from a night of studying, he knew you were the most beautiful person he laid eyes on. It was just as simple as that.

Tony wasn’t the only one to change. One could argue you became more bold. Where he showed his love through gifts and adoration, you showed yours through care and touch. “Tony, you’re working too hard. Come to bed now," you’d urge when you’d find him in his study hunched over a stack of papers at his desk. If he had too much on his hands, you would happily take over to help him get done sooner. You were surprisingly stubborn, and would stand firm in your attempts to get him to take care of himself. Though Tony loved annoying you, he hated when you were worried. If he was sick, you’d drop everything to tend to his needs. Whether it was making homemade soup, or driving halfway across town to get a specific type of medicine; you would do it for him no hesitation. It got the point that whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he tried to hide it. In a way being ill made him feel insecure and old. You couldn’t give a shit about those silly worries of his though, because if he needed to be taken care of, that’s what would happen. When nameless idiots over the internet spoke bad on his name, you were the first to draw your sword to defend him. You could never tell him that, but the screen name Tonysbitch99 wasn’t really fooling anyone; how could it when the anonymous face behind the name would say exactly what you would? To you, your love felt minuscule in comparison to his. It’s the reason you hated when he spoiled you. Tony however, appreciated your gestures, and felt that he was the one that was lacking. In reality your love language complemented each other perfectly. His love for you was loud and vocal, whereas yours moved silently. He needed you to ground him, while you needed him to drown out any shadow of a doubt that his actions were genuine. Besides, what could you possibly do for a man that had everything in the world?

Among other things that were now different was the constant sex. You two fucked like rabbits. He once cleared out an entire store just so he could fuck you in your dressing room. Your favorite times were when he didn’t clear the store at all. “Daddy, someone might hear us” you’d moan into his skin while he thrusted into you against a wall. “I want them to.” He would counter, before picking up the pace to build your reaction. On the way home from dining out, you would often ride him in the backseat of his car, the two of you clawing at each others skin desperate to get closer. When you just couldn’t wait to get home from your outings, he would start fingering you underneath the restaurant table while whispering sweet-nothings into your ear; this usually resulted into you getting dragged to the nearest bathroom stall. On nights where Edward was home, he would come up with any excuse to get you alone so he could bury himself into you. The two of you were playing a dangerous game, but Tony was an addict and he didn’t plan on stopping any time soon. 

Perhaps the person to change the most though, was Edward. Whether it was because he learned to work hard for the things he desired in life, or the fact that said things could be taken away from him in an instant, he was changing. Most importantly, he saw that you were changing. Tony and you may have thought him to be a self-absorbed idiot, but he saw the fading love marks that littered your neck. He saw the expensive shopping bags filled with shoes and high-end lace, carefully tucked away in your shared closet as if it was meant to be hidden. The new housekeeper bought your hand-stitched lingerie in with the laundry, smiling to him relishing in how lucky he was. But you didn’t wear that for him. He saw the way you bounced around without a care in the world, even though he had not done right by you for the entirety of your relationship. Who was all of this for? Whose texts were you chuckling at while you laid in bed so late at night? Whose scent was embedded in your bedroom sheets? Whose hickeys bruised the surface of your skin? Who was all of this for? 

It was true that he was somewhat of a different man now. Edward in the past would have accused you of being the biggest slut in the world. This Edward however, knew that he had no room for anger. He had absolutely no room for judgement. He had cheated on you since the genesis of it all. That didn’t change the fact that he loved you. He meant it when he said you were his forever girl, and that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. How could he be so foolish and let you give his love away?

“Dad,” he started, looking up to observe the older man. He and Tony were currently sitting opposite in their breakfast nook. Tony with his legs folded, newspaper in hand, orange juice in the other, hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge him. All that could be heard was a barely audible “Hmm?” 

“I think maybe I need some time off from the company” He stated.

Expecting his father to just be okay with that, he was slightly taken aback when Tony replied, “Why is that?” briefly meeting his eyes before returning to the words on his paper. 

“Well, its actually about Y/N” at this, he had his full attention. 

“What’s wrong with Y/N? Is she sick?” Slight panic dripping in his words.

“Well no but…” he began, trying to find the words to say. 

“But what Edward? Use your words, kid!” He demanded, tone a few notes away from a shout. He saw the surprise in his son’s face, so he straightened himself and said “Sorry. It's just you know how close we are. She’s my best friend.” He wanted to say you were his girlfriend, but best friend reigned true as well. 

“Well,” Edward began again “Our relationship is in shambles. I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me and I don’t want to lose her. She might be the only woman who’s gonna put up with my shit. And I know she’s genuine because she doesn’t ask for my money. I feel like if I’m here more, I have a chance of rekindling our connection” Edward stated, confiding in his father, hoping to find some sense of relief. He hadn’t realized how hurt he was. Is this how he made you feel? Tony almost felt guilty. But protectiveness over you soon clouded his sense of remorse. Who was he to try and take you away from him? 

He examined his son. The younger boy looked like he hit copy paste on his mother’s genes. They shared the same facial features, down to her high cheek bones, only Edward had raven black hair and dark brown eyes. He was more compared to Robert Pattinson than he was to his own father, even though he looked nothing like either of them. Man, genes were a funny thing. 

Tony thought about his words. It was true that you were humble and any other woman with an ounce of self-respect would have hit the door running the minute they found out how sleazy Edward had been. You almost did, until you met his father.

He put down his newspaper, turned to Edward and took in a sharp breath before saying, “She is taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about. There isn’t any unknown man coming in from off the street sniffing around your woman.” Tony chose his words carefully. They were cautiously crafted so that he technically told the truth. He was many things, but he hated to be called a liar. 

He read the uncertainty in Edward’s face, then continued his case. “In all honesty, Ed, you know I need you at your desk. You wanted this, are you really gonna let your insecurities get in the way of that? If so, maybe I should find someone better to take your—” 

Quickly interrupting his rambles, “No dad, listen. I don’t want to give up my seat. I’ll just have to find some other way to solve our issues.” 

“Exactly what issues do you have?” Tony pressed, eyebrows knitting together. 

“Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s cheating on me. I’m sure of it.” He confirmed, staring blankly into his father’s eyes. What does know? Tony thought to himself. Does he know it’s me? “Besides why are you getting so defensive?” Edward challenged. “It almost sounds as if you’re mad.”

“It’s just I know what kind of girl she is.” He defended, throwing his hands up and sitting back in his seat a bit. “She wouldn’t cheat on the man she loves. And I’m sure she cares about what you think.” Taking in his words after a moment, Edward chuckled to himself. His dad was right, you had to care about him. Why else would you still be here despite how much he had put you through. 

“Thanks dad. I think I was worried about nothing for a second there.” In the back of his mind, he still knew you were sleeping around, but now he was certain that it was all done as a cry for help. You just wanted his attention. He felt silly. He smiled to himself, then to his father. Tony returned a weak smile; the rest of his face couldn’t fake the empty sentiment. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you came in to distract them. You came bounding down the staircase on your way to make some breakfast before your trek to school. Both of the men instantly averted their attention away from each other, to instead lay it onto you. 

It was a cool fall day, so you were wearing a cropped white turtleneck that you paired with a pleated floral skirt. Long tan thigh high boots hugged your brown legs in just the right way, and you wore a simple (but expensive) necklace that Tony purchased for you. You used to care, but now you thought nothing of it since you knew Edward never paid any attention to you. Today happened to be one of those days that you were wrong. While Edward silently fumed over your choice of jewelry, Tony thought of new ways to violate you. With your consent, of course. 

Focused on the iPad in your hands, you failed to notice anyone else in the room until you heard the creak of a wooden chair. Looking up from your device, you were greeted by the men of the house eyeing you meticulously. “Oh sorry. Good morning” you smile, shy from the sudden attention.

“Good morning sweetheart” “–Morning babe.” Tony and Edward say simultaneously, surprising each other, and surprising you. As they say it,  their necks snap towards each other for just a second and their expressions match; furrowed brows and clenched jaws. Your eyes widen for a second before you continue on with your business. 

Before swallowing the awkward silence, Tony begins, “You’re down here pretty early. Do you have something important to do?” 

“I don’t have anything planned, I just wanted to wake up early to get some things done before class.” You returned, searching the cupboards.  

Upon hearing your plans to do nothing, Edward sparked up an idea. He cleared his throat, and rose from his seat to hesitantly trudge over to you. At the moment, you were standing on your toes trying to reach your favorite coffee mug in the top of the cupboard. Tony always placed it there to watch you struggle, just like he was doing right now. While taking pleasure in how cute you looked bouncing up and down, he hadn’t noticed Edward leave from his seat until he blocked his view. He shadowed your form to place a hand over yours bringing down your mug. Slightly startled, by his touch, you dropped it. It fell into his hand before it could shatter on the floor. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He chortled, turning his lips into his famous sexy grin. It did nothing but repulse you. 

“Its fine.” As you take your mug and turn away from him to pour your coffee, Edward wraps his hands around your hips to turn your body towards him. You were now facing Tony, but even if you weren’t you would be able to sense the daggers he was throwing into Edward’s back. His orange juice glass was on the verge of shattering, and the wood on the table threatened to splinter his fingers, from the grip he had on it. He wasn’t supposed to touch you. 

“So I was thinking” Edward began, dragging his thoughts out. “Since you don’t have any plans, I’m taking you out tonight.” You mentally cursed yourself for going into detail about your day in front of him. Mouth agape in utter disgust, you were at a loss for words. Tony could think of a few he wanted to say; however, but he stayed silent. Edward took your silence as surprise. In his eyes, you were happy to finally be spending some time with him. Everyone just stared at each other. Edward at you, you at Edward, and Tony back and forth between the both of you. “I can tell you’re happy.” His hands began to roam up and down your sides as he spoke. He drew a line up your spine, and pressed his lips to your ear before whispering, “Make sure to wear something sexy—”

“Edward sweetie, as the boss, don’t you think you should be at work bright and early.” Tony advised. Saving both you, and Edward. He worked very hard to ensure his words didn’t fall through gritted teeth.

Without taking his eyes off of you, Edward rolled them and smirked at you, as if you too were frustrated with Tony for cock-blocking. He quickly pecked your lips and went to grab his workbag. Your eyes followed his movement about the room. Just before exiting the house, he turned back to you to say “Be ready at seven” and then he turned the knob to leave.  

You, Tony, and silence were all alone together. You didn’t dare look at him, but the side of your face was burning from the glare he had on it. Acting as if nothing happened, you turn back around to prepare your day.  

Still staring in your direction, it was now Tony’s turn to get up. He leaped from his seat to take long strides towards you. He stopped just short of where you were standing, waiting for you to acknowledge him. You tried to busy your hands with your current task, cracking eggs into a bowl, waiting for him to break the silence; he was waiting for you to do the same. The sound of egg yolks hitting the surface of the bowl, followed by the stirring of a whisk were the only noises to be heard in the kitchen. 

“Yes, my love?” You ask after a few moments, the quiet becoming too unbearable. 

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” He replied, eyes boring into the side of your head. 

“Tony what are you talking about. I’m busy.” You sigh, growing annoyed. 

“Well fine, if you won’t look me in the eyes, can you at least answer me this? What. The Fuck. Was That?” He asked, soaking his words in drama. He placed his hand flat onto the counter awaiting an answer.

“I honestly don’t know.” You answer truthfully, still whisking your eggs. 

“Well did you two make up?” Tony pressed.

“No, I guess—”

“Well then why did he kiss you?”

“Tony, I don’t know wh—”

“Well then why don’t you know?”

“Could you let me finish!” You shouted before giving him your undivided attention. Your outburst both surprised and shut him up. “I don’t know why he kissed me. I don’t know why he asked me out on a date. We did not make up, because as usual we don’t say a word to each other. Fucking hell, this has been the first time in a year since we’ve been in the same room for longer than a minute, besides when we’re asleep.” You end your rant with this “All that I know is this, I don’t care. I’m not going on that date because I would rather spend the night with you. To be completely frank, I think I’d rather spend the night in a closet with murderous clowns, than go on a date with your shitty son.” With that, you walk away to aggressively click on the stove to begin cooking your breakfast. 

“Well,” Tony began, only slightly taken aback. “I know he’s shitty, but you didn’t have to say it. He is still my son, so I’m the only one who reserves the right to call him a shitty.” He chuckled, leaning opposite to you against the counter, looking down to observe your actions. 

“And to that I say, when you do a piss-poor job at raising a man to respect women, then anyone reserves the right to call them shitty.” You comment, meeting his eyes with a small smile before turning back to your  cooking. 

Tony smirked at your remark. “Blame his mom, because I’m a total feminist.” He grasped your chin to turn it towards him, bringing his face down to kiss yours before abruptly stopping. He took a paper towel from the bar, and began wiping your lips, earning a glare from you, that soon turned into a fit of laughter. His smirk only grew wider at his successful attempt to diminish your anger. 

“You make me sick.” You roared, calming down from your fit, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a deep kiss. When you were ready to let go, Tony wasn’t. Ignoring his needy looks, you turned back around to your task at hand. Like that, the mood changed from light-hearted, to serious in an instant. Unsatisfied, Tony moved from his spot at the counter to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest. 

“You know I could get used to you yelling at me. It really turns me on” he said, rocking from side to side which made you sway in his arms. 

“Babe.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, rubbing a finger down your spine the same way Edward did earlier, only this time instead of chills and shivers, you felt warm tingles. 

Not now.” You warned, already knowing where this was going. He pushed a bang behind your ear to admire your neck.

“Why not. Can’t you skip school for just one day?” Tony responds, fanning his lips over your ear.

“ No. No I cannot.” You reply, trying to overlook the kisses he planted against your neckline, and the traveling hands against your curves. 

“Then just be a little late.” He said, palming your chest, taking his time to massage the fleshy mounds. You lose your composure as he brings a hand down your sternum to dip underneath your skirt. You both groaned, him at how wet you were, and you at how good his hands felt. “Besides I know you wanna stay a little longer.” His voice was shaky and husky, and he was about to snap, which made your knees like jelly. 

“Tony, please.” You were going for stern, but your demands came out in labored pants. You felt his hardened member pressed against your ass and back, and you knew if you didn’t stop him now, there was no way you were leaving the house any time soon. You unfastened his hands from your waist, and pushed him away from you before continuing your cooking. You cleared your throat to say “Maybe later.”

Seemingly defeated, Tony started with a sigh “Fine. No more teasing. But I’m hungry.” 

“I have time to make you some French toast or pancakes.” You respond, placing your cooked breakfast on a plate and turning the stove off. 

“I think I’ll have you instead.” He says, before planting one more kiss beneath your ear.

“No thanks love.” You chuckle. 

“I wasn’t asking,” he retorted, before hoisting you up by your knees and placing you on the island away from the stove. You laugh in the process, knowing that this was inevitable. Upon sitting you down, his lips were on yours in an instant. Hurried sloppy kisses, covered your mouth and jaw as he explored your body with his fingers. As he traced his the index along your collarbone he realized he found new things to worship every time. His lips were hot and wet on your skin, both burning and soothing everything in their path. Breaking the kiss for just a moment, he brushed passed your shoulder  to push everything that was on the kitchen-top’s surface to the ground. 

“You’re cleaning that up this time.” You exhaled, before grabbing his face to bite his bottom lip, something you knew drove him crazy. 

“Fuck it princess, it’s worth it.” He groaned, before roughly pushing you down, while being careful enough to not injure your head. He reached up your thighs and under your skirt, to pull your panties down your legs and over your boots. 

“Let me take these off” you suggest, lifting the band to your shoes, but he raised his hand up to stop you, eyeing you through his tousled brown locks. 

“I like them on.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your exposed skin, before saying “I’m keeping these by the way.” in reference to your lacy black underwear, before stuffing them in his back pocket. He bent down to pepper love-marks along each leg before lifting your skirt to place a soft kiss against your entrance. There was no time for him to be a tease, so he quickly dived his tongue between your folds, and he began writing his full name into your lips. The name Anthony Edward Stark felt both long and short, as it was being etched into your core. Shocks of what felt like electricity rippled through your spine, as your pussy purred to his beckoning. You were a fucking mess. He let a string of spit fall from his lips and onto yours, before flattening his tongue to gather the mixture, slurping and suckling in the process . Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, until Tony pinched your clit. This became his favorite signal for you to give him your attention, the jolt always conflicted your pain and pleasure receptors. You loved and hated eye contact. That feeling of vulnerability sent your mind into a frenzy. But Tony refused to let you look away; he was obsessed with the way your face looked when you came undone. He began making the lewdest sounds against your cunt, tonguing it in the same way he’d do your mouth. You made a mess of his face. Your juices were dripping down your folds and in between your cheeks; what his tongue didn’t catch spilled onto the island. With his face buried in your box, his nose would lightly brush your clit, sending you straight into ecstasy. 

You slightly squeezed around his head, only to have him pry your legs open. His tongue fucked your hole, making you clench around it.  You were already so close, but Tony wanted this to last—that way, you’d be bursting at the seems by the time he was finished with you. “Someone wants to be fucked senseless, doesn’t she?” He asked as he raised up, licking his lips. Smirking down at you, he lifted your sweater up to your chin, in order reveal your happy breasts. He then pulled your bra under them to get a full view of the spread.  

Dragging you closer to the edge, he massaged his fingers into your pussy, running them through your lips, while watching you squirm underneath his touch. He placed a hand between your thigh, kneading the immediate area with his thumb. He was enjoying the view, but knew that he only had a few minutes left; so, he pulled his pants down, coated his length with the hand he previously used to massage you with, and sunk into you no warning. 

You took in a sharp breath, tears welling in your eyes and chest rising and falling. As many times as you had been with him, you still weren’t used to his size. “Shit, kitten. I’m sorry, I thought you were ready for me” he swore, grunting at the feel of you. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he wouldn’t move until you said it was okay. 

When the pain subsided pleasure quickly took over. You looked him in his eyes to say “Please wreck me baby.” He crooked his neck to look at you sideways for a second as if to ask ‘are you sure?’, dick twitching inside of it. You were more than sure. Then, before you were able to comprehend he snapped his hips forward, drilling into you at a brutal pace. Your moans and pants turned into screams, and you braced your hands against his abs. He grabbed your wrists to steady himself, so that he could thrust deeper into you. He loved this shit. The way your chest bounced. Your broken moans and cries. Even the expressions you wore, were enough to spur him on. 

“I can do this all day!” He growled, relentlessly hammering into you. He thought your tight little cunt was euphoria. At this point you felt like he was in your stomach, threatening to go further. You felt your dam about to break once more, but he was a step ahead of you. 

He sat you up and pulled you off the counter, quickly turning you around, ridding you of your orgasm again. Frustrated, you wiggled your ass, and pressed it against him, desperate for his touch. This earned you a harsh slap against the cheek. “Don’t play that game with me, unless you don’t wanna walk for a week” he warned before digging his nails into your skin. Within a second after that, his cock vanished behind your walls, instantly hitting your g-spot. You yelped throwing your hands back to cushion the slaps between his thighs and your own. Tony grabbed them, and like before,  used them to pull you back onto him. “No, no princess. Take all of me baby. I want you to feel it all.” He growled, slamming his frustrations into you. The cabinet doors below you were shaking from the impact of your thighs. Your nipples, slid across the cool countertops as Tony stroked in and out you. You laid your head down on the counter, strength leaving you as he rocked you back and forth.

To reach a better angle, he grabbed one of your knees, lifting it to lay beside your hip against the counter. He then leaned over, so that your back was against his chest. “This pussy is mine, do you understand?”

“Yes daddy.” You whimper. 

“I’m sorry what was that?” He challenges, grabbing a fistful of curls to yank, lifting you both back up.

“I said yes daddy” you shout, approaching your orgasm once more. 

Tony roughly grabs your chin to turn it towards him, pressing his forehead against yours. “I can tell you’re close princess. I can feel you getting tighter around me. But good girls always ask before they cum. Beg for it.” He whispered. 

You knew he wasn’t joking, but you wore your worried expression on your face. “Don’t be shy kitten. It’s just you and me.” He assured, lightly kissing your lips as he spoke. 

“Please let me cum Tony.” 

“Do you think you deserve to?” He questioned, suddenly ticked off from Edward’s bold gestures earlier. His lips ghosted over yours and he began slowing his moments, to really pound himself into your core. “You’re a filthy little slut for letting another man touch you.” On any other occasion, his words would have pissed you off, but in this moment they just made you wetter. 

“I only want you to touch me daddy, I’m sorry” You whine, throwing your ass back onto his cock, determined to take your orgasm, but wary of the consequences if you do. 

He gripped your neck with one hand, and grabbed a tit with the other. He fondled and massaged the breast, while applying pressure with the hand on your neck. He places his face to the side of yours, chin hairs tickling your cheek.“Do you promise to never let that happen again? Hmm?’” He presses, squeezing your breast and tweaking your nipple. All of this was happening while he was continuing his movements in and out of you.

“I promise baby, please just let me cum.” You screamed. You were losing your composure, and your vision was becoming blurry from tears. He had denied you one too many times, and you didn’t know if you could hang on any longer. You were pleading with him at this point. 

“Cum” was all he said, as you coated his dick in your juices. Tony followed you not a second after, shooting his load up, feeling it come oozing down his member. He bit into your shoulder-blade to suppress his moans. You however lets yours come out in an almost embarrassing shriek. You had no shame though, Tony had brung you out of your shell many, many orgasms ago. 

Now a sweaty mess, he unsheathed himself, and leaned down to place a kiss on your back before readjusting your sweater and skirt. He then turned to readjust himself. 

“I know you’re gonna hate what I am about to say,” he warned, buckling his belt and bracing himself for your reaction, “but you should go on the date.”

“What, why?” You questioned, turning to face him, confused by his suggestion. Was he tired of this? Was he tired of you?

“I just don’t want this to end. So…to not raise any suspicion, you should go out, and have fun.” He stated before averting his gaze. He clearly didn’t want you to, but he knew you needed to. 

“Tony I’m not going.” You stated, fixing your hair and walking away to collect your items for school. “He didn’t even ask me, he told me. So I don’t want to do this.” You pout. 

Trailing behind you slowly, he asked this question “So if he had asked you, would you have been more willing to go.” You were kneeling down to adjust the straps on your school bag at the moment, but you stopped to survey him. His hands were buried in his pockets, and his shoulders were squared. He wasn’t the usual sure of himself cocky man you’d come to know, for a minute he seemed insecure. 

“Tony, I wouldn’t want to go period.” You confirmed, raising up to stand at his level. You unplanted his hands from his pockets, and clasped them to your own, stroking his knuckles. 

“Sweetheart,” he started. He let go of your hands to so that he could cup your cheeks. “I think you have to baby.”

“Ugh.” You loudly scoffed, letting his hands go to walk back into the kitchen and grab your breakfast. Your eggs were cold now, so you searched for an apple and a granola bar instead,  as Tony continued his case. 

“Listen, Edward knows about us. Well, not us specifically, but he knows you’re with someone. Without him, there is relatively no reason for us to continue…us. It would look bad if we still remained close with each other if your relationship with him ended.”

“Tony I’ve been living here for over a year now. I think it would be even weirder if I just cut off ties with you completely” you sneered, violently flinging the refrigerator door open in search for the string cheese. Tony mirrored your movements, and slammed the door back. 

“Sweetpea, could you just think about it.” He pleaded, while talking with his hands and peering down at you with his chocolate orbs. Butterflies started to flutter in your stomach, at the new pet name he assigned you. He always tried out different ones for different situations, and this one just happened to fit this one. “We always knew this was a difficult relationship. Even if you guys ended on good terms, dating me right after would not be the greatest idea. At least if you’re with Eddy, we have more time to figure things out. Please.” 

Contemplating his words, you knew he was right. But that didn’t change the fact that you hated it.  “Fine. I’ll go on this stupid ass date.” As you said it, the word date was laced in venom, venom that you wished to reserve for Edward’s veins. “How are you okay with all of this though? Whats your secret?”

He thought about it for a moment, and then replied, “I’m not” before pursing his lips and looking down at his feet.  Weirdly enough, you needed to hear that. Knowing that you both were going through this dread together oddly made you feel better. You grabbed his chin to lean in for a passionate kiss. Your taste from earlier still lingered on his tongue. 

“Everything is going to be fine.”  You assured, gazing up at him. 

“Ya, I know.” He smiled, before looking down at his watch. “Well not everything, because you’re late for class again.”

“Shit!” You screeched. He watched as you sprinted through the door after scrambling to grab your stuff, all before he could even blink. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He said to himself, as he waved at your fleeting car. 

——————————————————

“How does this one look?”

“No. No. No. That slit is entirely too high!”

“Tony, it’s literally below the knee. And you’re the one that chose it!”

“Too much skin. Next.”

“Yea well he has seen me naked before so.” You mumbled. 

“What was that? Yea maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. You were  right kid, take it off and we’ll come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t go.” He was worried. He became worried after the first dress. Though he would never admit it, you knew when he was upset. He would place his glasses on his face and get to talking faster than normal. 

“Baby, like I said earlier, everything is going to be fine. Trust me.” You assured, as you went to get changed into the 7th dress of the night. 7:00 o’clock was approaching faster than normal. You had been home for a few hours now, so you and Tony mentally prepared yourself. He drew you both a hot bubble bath to calm your nerves, but it didn’t do much for them.  As the time got closer, it got harder to convince each other, that this was fine. At the moment, it was your turn to persuade Tony.

You came back into the room, in a flirty fit and flare dress. Though the dress was less than a foot away from your ankles, it hugged your curves perfectly. “Hell no. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He shouted. He had crossed and uncrossed his legs so many times at this point, you thought he’d pull a muscle. He got up to pace the room. You had never seen him worry this much. 

You met him from across the room, skipping to stand behind him. As you hugged his back, you stood on your tippy toes to press your chin on his shoulder. “Honey,” you cooed, “it might help if you told me exactly what you were afraid of.”

“I’m a grown ass man Y/N, there isn’t much that I’m afraid of.” He retorted. 

Aware of the sudden attitude, you reply “Fine, maybe afraid is the wrong word. Let’s say nervous. What’s got you so anxious?”

He placed his hands on top of yours  before sighing, “I don’t want him to steal your heart. But I also don’t want my son to be hurt. I really don’t want to lose you, but I also feel like I am being selfish towards you both.” He turned around after making his last point, entangling your fingers together. “Most of all, I don’t wanna lose you.” 

You placed your head on his chest and chuckled, the gesture sending small vibrations through him.“You said ‘I don’t wanna lose you’ like three times already.”

“Well I don’t. And you know what, who gives a fuck about me being selfish. I am that way when it comes to you. And don’t I get to be?” He asked the question more to himself than to you. 

“Yes pumpkin.”

“I know. I mean, I’ve failed him as a parent you know? If he doesn’t have the decency to appreciate someone as wonderful as you, then I have failed him. I don’t know what to do. I usually do, but I just don’t this time.” You had never seen Tony be so vulnerable before. Over the past year, he had seen you in so many compromising situations that would have made any other man run straight for the heels. But you seldom saw him in those same compromising situations. This was new, and while you always liked new, this was scary. You feared, that he saw an end to this before you could. 

“It is going to be okay.” That was all you could say. He sighed, and placed a kiss against your forehead before speaking. 

“Y/N,  I’ve been wanting to tell you,—”

“Dad! Y/N!” You heard Edward yell. You two quickly removed yourself from each other, just before he could make the room. You ran back into your bathroom to slip into another gown. When Edward came in, he was surprised to find his father in his room. “I was looking for you, but I didn’t expect to find you in here.” He began changing out of his work clothes, to freshen up. 

“Well yea, she asked me to help her pick a dress.”

“I hope you helped me out here. I am trying to get laid tonight.” He admitted, winking at his dad. Tony just stared at him blankly. Taking his expression as disapproval for his choice of word, he awkwardly laughed, “Oh come on dad, don’t get stiff on me now, you know you taught me everything I know.” He began changing into his date attire, before realizing something was missing. He went to look in your shared bathroom. 

Attempting to walk in, the door was immediately slammed back into his face. He was embarrassed that it happened in front of Tony, who was currently chuckling on your bedroom couch. Regaining his cool, he knocked on the door. “Babe, I need to get in for a sec.”

“I’m in here.” You replied, with short words and short tones. 

“Yea babe, I know you’re in there, the thing is I need to be in there too.” He was annoyed, but you were already pissed about going out with him. Especially since he interrupted his dad from earlier. What was he gonna say? You thought. 

“Well you’re gonna have to fucking wait Edward.”

“Listen, if this is about your dress, I’m gonna be happy with whatever you put on for me okay?” He assured. 

“No, Edward. This is about me not wanting you to see me naked.” You corrected. “Now you could either wait, or forget about the entire date.”

“Well, I guess that means you’re not getting laid tonight.” Tony teased, fighting the shit-eating grin, that threatened to plaster his face. It got harder when Edward looked at him with the biggest death-glare .

Why does the bastard seem happy about that? he thought to himself. “Whatever. There’s always next time.” He stated matter-of-factly, not noticing the joy that left his father’s eyes. “Do you have any cologne that I can borrow?” He was still annoyed but it was fleeting. You two were not going to ruin his night. He would have you by the end of it. 

“Uh, yea I left it in the downstairs bathroom, follow me.” Edward found it hard to read Tony at the moment. As mentioned before, the older man rarely lost his composure. Those closest to him, knew his ticks, but by no means were Tony and Edward close. Father and son, maybe, but they would never be friends. Edward always took to his mother, listening to the poison she spewed in his ears from the time he was old enough to understand. To him, Tony was a terrifying, self-entitled, know-it-all, who never granted mercy tho anyone, even those he loved.  

Up until recently, he saw that that wasn’t true, or if it had been it was in the past now. As he followed him down the staircase, they reached the bathroom where the cologne resided. Tony, trying to play nice, handed Edward a tiny glass bottle. The bottle itself probably cost over a thousand dollars, what did that say about the tawny brown liquid inside. “Thanks man.” Was all he said, as he carelessly took it. 

“Hey, you be careful with that! It cost more than your entire outfit.” 

He spritzed the liquid onto his collar and wrists before speaking “This smells really good. What is this again? I feel like I’ve smelled this before.”

“Forget about the damn cologne Edward. We need to talk about Y/N.” His demeanor turned serious, as he addressed you. 

“What is there to talk about?” He questioned, tousling with his hair in the mirror.

“She’s fragile right now, and I just don’t think you should force yourself onto her.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m not a rapist.”

“That’t not what I’m saying at all. The very fact that that’s the first thing your mind jumped to is alarming to say the least. Whatever, anyway, I’m saying that you can be a little aggressive with your approach. She doesn’t appreciate your selfish nature.”

“Selfish? Did she tell you that?” He stopped with his hair and eyed him through the mirror. 

“All that I am saying is that you may win more points with her, if you ask her about what she wants.” Tony didn't even know why he bothered trying to help him. In all honesty, he was just trying to to help you.

“Dad, you just let her call me selfish? I am your son, shouldn’t you care more about what I think?”

“You literally just proved her point. And shouldn’t you want to be more attentive to your girlfriend’s needs?”

“Why are you two so close? Don’t you think that’s a little weird?” He inspected his father skeptically. He turned around to slowly look him up and down before continuing “Whose side are you on?”

Tony stood firm. He made sure to show no sign of weakness. “I’m on her’s.” His eyes burned a hole through Edward, and the younger boy bit back his anger to cower his head away from his father’s menacing look.

“Let’s go, before I change my mind.” They both perked their heads up to look at you standing through the bathroom’s doorway. 

You were wearing a silk mauve spaghetti-string top, paired with pearl colored high-waisted wide-leg dress pants; those were held together by a simple Gucci belt. A chic baggy blazer that matched the pants graced your arms, and three-tier pearl earrings dangled from your lobes. Your perfectly manicured cream colored nails clutched a large white wristlet against your person. You sported a curly shoulder-length bob, and your makeup was done to look natural. On your feet were a pair of costly looking suede heels whose color resembled your top; their points were so sharp they could puncture skin. You looked more ready for a business meeting, than a date. 

“Wow babe” Edward started, eyeing you in detail. “You look great, but I thought you were gonna wear something a bit more comfortable.”

“Well Edward, you said you would be happy with whatever I chose.”

“I mean I am but—”

“You look amazing.” Tony interjected, eyeing you a little too long for Edward’s liking. 

“I mean don’t act so surprised, I am a boss ass bitch” You respond feeling shy all of a sudden. You broke eye contact to bite your bottom lip and examine your feet. How could your stomach still swarm and your face still heat up after all this time. 

He cleared his throat before saying, “Right well, you guys have a date to attend. I hope you have fun” He turned to Edward to adjust his collar, “But not too much fun.” He left it at that for a moment before adding, “Because ya know, I’m too pretty to be a granddad right now.” He patted his chest and turned him so that he could push him out of the door.

He stopped you before you could follow, to say in a hushed tone,  “You look beautiful. Hurry back please.”

“I’ll try. Don’t worry.” You gave him a small smile, before turning to leave. 

He grabbed your hand to whip you around and slam the door. He pressed you against it, hands on either side of your head. 

“Tony what the fuc—”

“Say the word and we can call it off.”

“Honey, at this point it’s too late. He’d know something is up if we did that.”

“Do you think I give a flying fuck what he thinks. Come on just say the word.”

“Tony, I am going. We won’t be long. So don’t worry.” You grabbed his cheeks to peck his lips. 

He released his hands from their spot on the door and reopened it to a confused Edward. “Sorry.” He directed towards him. “It looked like she had a gaping hole in her pant leg. Couldn’t let it ruin your date.” He was always a terrible liar, and as he said it, he watched your retreating movements to the vehicle. 

“Thanks for looking out,” Edward said sarcastically before following your steps. He tried to open it for you, but you ensured that you could open the door yourself in a cold manner.

When you got into the car, you prepped yourself for the long night before you. If you had looked back at Tony’s expression, you may have never left with Eddy. 

———————————————————————

Shit. You thought, as you pulled up to the restaurant. Of course it had to be one that you and Tony frequented a lot. Every time they saw him, they called you both by name. You should have known something was up when the drive took an hour outside the city. 

“Eddy, why don’t we go somewhere else.” You say as you slide down in your seat. “This place looks expensive.”

“I want to try this. I’ll take care of the bill.” He was being short with you now. It was due to the lack of communication during the entire drive. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t get more than two words out of you. You almost felt bad, but that diminished when you saw him shamelessly checking out a girl who was passing by your car. You didn’t even care about it, you were just annoyed that he did it in your presence even though it was his idea to take you out. 

“Fine.” You retort, unbuckling your seatbelt to beat him inside. You felt that if you got in before him, you could warn the staff not to mention Tony, or your being there before. Too bad Edward’s legs were way longer than yours. 

“Slow down, I’m the one who made the reservations.” He ran up to walk beside you. He sensed you sense him checking the other woman out, and took your sudden mood shift as jealousy. “Don’t worry baby, she wasn’t even that pretty.” He snaked an arm around your waist, which made you recoil away. He opened the glass doors for you, and you were immediately embraced with the familiar smell of French cuisine. The ambiance was soft and warm, and the lights were dim as golds and yellows lay in the scenery. Being here without Tony wasn’t the best, but at least you felt somewhat at home.  

As the two of you approached the maître d’s desk, the jolly man lit up at the sight of you. Samuel was the sweetest, and sassiest person you had ever come to know. The fact that he could be both was why you loved him.

“Aww ma cherré! C'est si gentil à vous de nous rejoindre ce soir!” Samuel exclaimed. He was elated to see you since it had been a while. 

“Tu m'as manqué Samuel!” You were happy to see him as well and expressed how much you missed him. 

“You two know each other?” Edward inserted, causing Samuel to focus his attention on him. 

“Well no. I just read his name tag.” You said nervously.

“Qui est-ce?” Samuel asked, trying to figure out who Edward was. He was currently sizing him up. This wasn’t his precious Tony.

“What did he say? I knew I should have gone somewhere, where they speak English” Edward complained. 

Samuel mumbled something about Edward being an entitled prick, which made it hard for you to suppress a smile. “He asked what was the reservation name under.”

“Ahh, it’s under Stark! I am the one who called ahead 3 hours ago!” Edward shouted, like the asshat he was.

“Monsieur, I understand English. I’m from New York.” Samuel stated with an attitude. “However speaking French helps set the tone for this environment. Also, if you yell at a person who you presume to speak a different language, it makes you look like an obnoxious prick.” You couldn’t suppress your smile this time. 

“Is it customary to speak like that to your guests too?” Edward challenged, making both you and Samuel’s smile falter. 

“Non monsieur.” He replied, the confidence from before had left now. 

“Yea I didn’t think so. I would like you and your staff to speak English to me for the rest of the night.” He informed, a menacing smirk playing on his face. “I should see that you take care of those who give you service.” 

“Yes sir. Allow me to lead you to your table.”  You tugged on the cuffs of his jacket to look at him with sorry eyes. “ Ahh Mrs. Y/L/N, will you be taking your usual spot on the roof—”

You looked at him with wide eyes before you said “Monsieur!” You shouted. You guys had stopped, “Could you show me to the restroom! I am sorry I cannot hold my bladder any longer.”

“But you already know—” Samuel you idiot! You thought to yourself. 

“Restroom please!”

“Okay okay, just a minute!” Your outbursts were out of character, so he was just now realizing something was wrong. “You can sit here sir. Right this way ma’am.”

When you two got  out of earshot, that’s when you tackled him with a hug. “I am so sorry he treated you like that.”

“It’s not your fault, my dear. But who is that son-of-a-bitch.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed before saying, “That’s Tony’s son. We are dating.”

“Wait! No what happened with you and Tony!”

“Nothing, we are fine…we just met at the wrong time.” 

“Ahh, does he know that you are dating his son?” You basically just told Samuel that you were dating two people who were blood-related, and he didn’t bat an eye-lash. 

“Of course he knows! Edward doesn’t though, so if it isn’t too much to ask, please tell everyone to act as if they never met me. I would really appreciate it.”

“Anything for my favorite girl! You stupid bitch, I can't believe you didn't tell me all this juicy gossip.” He winked at you before leading you back to your table. 

You sat down in the booth and let your blazer fall from your arms. All of a sudden you felt nervous, but determined to play nice. Edward’s irritation took on a new level, and you forgot that you were supposed to be “rekindling” your relationship. All you had done this entire evening was make it worse. You almost forgot how to talk to him, being alone only made things worse. He was sitting opposite to you, examining his menu. And when he spoke it was cold. 

“I took the liberty to order us some drinks while you were off talking with that server.” So he knew you had lied about the bathroom, yet his eyes hadn’t left his menu. Maybe he was trying to decipher the French, and wasn't really worried about you.

“I don’t drink anymore.” You declared.

“So much has changed about you. Like you speak French now, when did that happen.” His voice was like liquid turned into stone. Hard but smooth at the same time. 

“I took an online class.” You lied. Tony was the one to teach you. “I have an internship in Paris that requires me to learn it.” That part was true though

“Does that internship pay you ahead of time?” He glanced up from his menu to meet your gaze.

“It doesn’t pay me at all.” Your brows furrowed. Where was he going with this? 

“Oh. You know I just thought it did, since you can afford Gucci, and what is that?” He asked referring to your wristlet “That’s a Valentino right? Oh and let’s not forget the Louboutin’s on your feet!” He was losing his cool now. 

“Eddy you’re gonna cause a scene. Lower your voice.” You hiss. 

Fortunately your waitress came over to distract him for a second. “Bonjour, je m'appelle Elise. Je serais heureux de te servir ce soir.” You knew Elise, but you had to act as if you didn’t. You hoped that when she looked away from her notepad, she wouldn’t recognize you.

“English please. I already told your host this.” He was already an ass, but now he was being plain rude. 

The peppy red-head looked up from her notes to examine him. Her doe-like eyes wide in terror that quickly turned into joy upon noticing you. 

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” She looked around for a second before looking back to you, “Where is Mr Stark?” You held your breath at the mention of Tony. I guess Samual hadn’t warned Elise yet. 

“I am Mr. Stark.” Edward rudely inserted. You were relieved he didn’t realize the error, until he spoke again “Look. We’re not ready to order yet. So why don’t you come back later. Fuck off” He waved his hand in a dismissive behavior, before turning back to you.

You watched the girl bow her head before quickly retreating.“Why do you have to be such a fucking dick?” 

“What? Do you think I hurt your little friend’s feelings? Why did you act like you’ve never been here before.” His nostrils began to flare, as he sat up from his seat.

“I haven’t—.”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me Y/N. I heard him ask you about your usual spot on the roof. You must think I am an idiot.” He snarled. “I asked about it before reserving the restaurant. My point is that I know it costs more than your tiny bank account could hold. So what, did you plan on freeloading off of me and my dad, while your sugar daddy takes care of you too?”  

“Don’t speak to me like this.” You state through gritted teeth. Your eyes were starting to water from his interrogation, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. 

“Who pays for it? Hmm? Is it the same person who put those hickeys on your chest? Or is it the person who bought you that cheap ass bracelet.” Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist to snatch off the Cartier bracelet Tony got you for valentine’s day. It meant the world to you, since he had the words ‘My heart belongs to you, T.S.’ engraved inside it.  You watched the jewels bounce and clatter on to the hard-wood floor. Rolling under feet and nearby tables. People were starting to look over, but you didn’t care. You also didn’t care about the tears that spilled from your eyes. 

Edward sat back in his chair, and rubbed a hand through his hair while acknowledging your tears. He coldly mocked these next words “What’s wrong. Can’t he afford to buy you a new one?” 

“Yea.” You said, voice shaking, while your eyes remained on the floor. You turned back to him to say, “Maybe if I fuck him good enough, he’ll get me an even prettier one.” His hands began to shake as you watched him go red in the face. He balled his palms into fists, knuckles turning white; a sharp contrast to his crimson fingers. He unexpectedly slammed them on the table, causing you to jump, and the conversations around you to cease. 

“Well maybe he should give you a ride back home while he’s at it, you fucking bitch!” He shouted, spit flying from his mouth. He got up to storm out of the door, pushing passed Elise who was coming back with your drinks. He left you embarrassed, without a way home, and alone. Oddly enough, you weren’t crying because of Edward. You were crying because you felt like you failed Tony.

————————————————————

You arrived home over four hours later, after hailing a taxi. You would have been home sooner, if you didn’t spend the night with Elise, Samuel, and the rest of the staff, insisting on helping them close. You partly helped to make up for the scene you and Edward had caused, and you also wanted to give Edward enough time to get home and go to bed. From the looks of it, he had made it there in just a little under an hour, because that’s when Tony started lighting your phone up. That’s why you stayed longer to wait for him to fall asleep as well. You were an even bigger idiot than Edward if you thought he would be asleep before you made it home. 

He was sitting on the staircase when you unlocked the door to come in. “Are you okay?” He asked, leaping up to stand before you. 

“Yea I’m good.” You respond, tiredly. 

“Good. Because I am fucking livid.” He said in a frantic tone. “What’s wrong with your phone?”

“Nothing. Where’s Edward?”

“He’s asleep. So why didn’t you answer you phone?”

“It died.” 

“Was that before, or after you turned it off? Because I know for a fact that’s what you did. That’s always your excuse when you don’t want to talk to someone.”

“Can we not do this tonight.” He grabbed your shoulders and bent down so that he could look you in your eyes. 

“I would prefer it if we did this now.”

“Well it’s not about what you fucking want all the time,” You snapped.

“Hey. That’s not fair.” Hurt was plastered on every inch of his face. You saw it, so you began to apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked, and you were about to cry again. “Tony I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live in this house with him anymore. I can’t live this lie any. more.” The tears spilled, and you couldn’t tell who was more hurt at this point, you or Tony. 

He pulled you into his chest, which muffled your sobs. “What am I supposed to say, when you get like this? I can’t bear seeing you cry, princess. What do I do?”

“Please just hold me. Don’t let me go.” You mewled. 

He pulled back to wipe away your tears with the backs of his thumb. “Now when have you ever known me to do something stupid.”

“Everyday.” You laugh. He tapped your nose and gave it a quick kiss, while still cupping your cheeks.

“Yeah, well besides then.” 

“Never.” You whispered. He stared into your eyes lovingly. You two stayed mesmerized in each other for longer than usual. 

“I love you, Y/N. I guess that goes without saying, but I thought you should know.” He confessed. Believe it or not, it was the first time. The two of you never had to say it, because you just felt it. Just knowing it, still wouldn’t beat hearing the actual words though. He had just made it fact in your heart. 

Speaking of your heart, it was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, threatening to leap from your chest at any second. The butterflies he gifted you quickly turned into elephants, that threatened to trample your insides, and replace the remains with Peruvian lilies.  Your cheeks were now hot to the touch, and your mouth searched for words that came out in random incoherent spouts.

Tony, suddenly overcome with unsureness started with, “Maybe this wasn’t the right time to—”

“No!” You shouted, “I love you too.” You cried, smiling before you stood on your toes to wrap your arms around him. His arms dropped to your sides, and he pulled you in by your shirt, latching his mouth on yours. This kiss was different from the rest. They all felt good, but this one felt better than them all combined. Taking in all of you, your scent, your taste, your feel, he felt spoiled. He grabbed at the sides of your face to deepen it, while you grabbed at the back of his neck. You both tried your hardest to get closer, but it may have not even been possible, since there was no space left between you. 

You were the first to pull back for air, while Tony still pecked at your lips, stealing wet kisses, that trailed from your mouth to your forehead. He peppered them over your eyelids, nose, and cheeks, desperate to cover every perimeter of the skin. 

You fluttered your eyes open when he was done, smiling up at him though your lashes. His chocolate brown orbs danced with more joy, than you had ever seen, and his pearly whites peered through his goofy grin. He eskimo kissed you, and rest his forehead against yours. You were happier than you had ever been. 

You both snapped your necks towards the sound behind you before you heard Edward say “I should have known it was you.” He, like his dad before, sat at the bottom of the staircase watching the both of you. You two were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t even hear him walk down.

And just like that, your happiness left the chat. 

  A/N: Sooo... tell me what you think? Also, I proofread, but please let me know if you see any errors. Please like comment and share. To  @swaggysposts​ @scarletsoldierrr​ I am so sorry for posting so late, but I really hope you are still interested. Please tell me what you think!  PART 3 here 

[carrotmakar]

Arrangement

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 6.1k+ (I AM SO SORRY THAT IT’S SO LONG)

Summary: Tom gives you an offer you can’t refuse

Warning(s): It’s not edited, sorry.

A/N: This is my submission for the throwback writing challenge that @naturallytom is doing! I hope you enjoy!!

Add yourself to my taglist here 

Masterlist

How did I end up in this situation? You ask yourself as you stand arm in arm with the one and only Tom Holland. There were flashing lights all around you, temporarily blinding you. There was nothing that you could possibly focus on. Nothing at all, except for the way that he held you to keep you steady.

Oh, yeah, I’m crazy. You think as you begin to walk slightly farther down the red carpet in a dress that costs more than you make in an entire year at your job. But are you really crazy? Who in their right mind would turn down an offer like the one that he gave you? You couldn’t think of a single person, which made you feel slightly better about the situation.

*

It had started as a normal Saturday. 

Your alarm went off at seven a.m. sharp. Your eyes snapped open, slightly disturbed by the blaring noise. There were broken rays of sunlight flowing into your room, making everything way brighter than it needed to be. You groaned to yourself, dreading the day you had ahead. 

You groggily pulled yourself out of bed, almost tripping over your own feet a million times. You stumbled around your room, finding everything you needed to take a quick shower. Once you found all the necessities, you quickly went to the bathroom to clean yourself and try to get you looking presentable. You stepped out of the shower less than 15 minutes later, having washed your hair and your body in record time, while also remembering to shave since your uniform consisted of a short sleeve shirt and a skirt - since the weather had turned almost unbearably hot. 

Your brain wasn’t even fully functioning yet, you were just going through the motions, doing what you do every morning when you have to go into work for an early shift.

With a cup of freshly brewed coffee and your keys in hand, you rushed out the door. You didn’t want to be caught in traffic, knowing that it would set you back by at least 30 minutes, which would in turn make you late for work. Traffic always ruined perfectly good mornings, and you wanted today to be a good day. 

*

You got to the small, corner side cafe where you work almost twenty minutes before your shift was scheduled to start, so you sat down at a table and pulled out your laptop to get some writing done. You barely have any time to write, so when you did, you seized the opportunity. You had been working on the same piece for weeks, and you were beginning to lose hope in ever finishing it, so having this time to work on your piece made your day just that much better.

You had gotten almost four pages of the story done when your manager walked up in front of you, carrying herself like she was the best person in the world. Her face held her signature smirk, letting you know that the day was about to take a turn for the worse, at least until she left in a few hours.

“Time to clock in, y/n. Wouldn’t want to be late. You heard what the boss said if you’re late again.” You shut your laptop and put it away carefully in your bag. 

You are completely aware of what he said to you. If you’re late one more time, whether it be because of traffic or not, you’re fired. He doesn’t care if you live forever away and the traffic sucks, he even went so far as to suggest that you find a job closer to home.

After you clocked in and laid your computer in the back room, you went to the schedule to see where they had you working for the day. You were assigned to man the cashier, which you normally wouldn’t complain about, but there were barely any customers. Within the first four hours that you were on the clock, maybe ten customers walked in and ordered something. And the last five were together. There were barely any orders, which meant that you spent the majority of your time at work wiping things down, making sure that everything was spotless, until a customer came in.

It’s going to be a really uneventful day, You thought to yourself. Days like these always were. They were the kinds of days that wore you down and made you feel even more tired after a shift than if you had been running around all day

Little did you know, this was not going to be one of those days.

Less than an hour before close, a man walked in. At first, you paid absolutely no attention to him. You were still wiping off a counter, waiting for him to come up to the register so that you could take his order. You had barely even looked up, just paying attention to how far away he was from the front counter. 

But when you actually did look at him, the air was knocked out of your lungs. 

Harrison Osterfield was standing right in front of you.

It took everything in your entire being to make your voice not shake when you asked, “What can I get for you today?”

He flashed you his award winning smile and rattled off his order. Surprisingly enough, it was quite simple. You quickly typed it into the register, assuming that the coffee would be the only thing he ordered seeing as he was alone. Before you could tell him his total however, he stopped you. 

“One second, love. My mate, Tom is coming too. Just got the text, let me get a tea for him, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Will that be all for today?” There was a slight shake in your voice that time, you having no luck concealing it. Tom Holland? Thomas Stanley Holland was about to walk into the small cafe that you work in? What are the odds?

“Yeah, that’s all, love. Thank you.” He hands you a fifty dollar bill and says, “Keep the change. Buy yourself something that’s almost as lovely as you are.”

You couldn’t help but blush as he walked away. Usually, you would take this as an insult, but the way he worded it made it seem like less of one. Usually the guys that left you tips were old men that either took pity on you or waited around after one of your shifts to see if you’d sleep with him because he gave you an extra five bucks.

But this was Harrison Osterfield, he wasn’t that kind of guy. Or at least, he seemed to not be that kind of guy.

A few moments later, their drinks were ready and you carried them out to Harrison so he wouldn’t have to get up again. You didn’t usually do this, but come on, these drinks are for two of the best actors you had ever come across.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He says with a smile as you sit down the drinks.

“No problem.” You all but mumble as you turn around, slightly intimidated by his presence. You keep your eyes trained on the floor so that nobody can see how much you're blushing. Maybe it’s how he’s literally one of the most attractive guys on the planet, or maybe it’s because of the accent, but everything that he says seems to be getting to you today.

That wasn’t your brightest idea, however, looking at the floor in a cafe when you should be watching where you were going. Before you knew it, you bumped into something hard.

You look up, expecting it to be a wall, since it didn’t move one bit. You’re pretty clumsy. 

As soon as your eyes lock with the chocolate colored ones attached to the brunette in front of you, you wish it was a wall that you had run into. That would have been a lot less embarrassing. 

“Are you alright, darling?” Tom asks you, putting his, rather large,  hands on your shoulders, ensuring that you’re steady and won’t trip in any way. 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I should’ve been watching where I was going.” You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you were clumsy enough to foolishly run into someone as important as him.

He chuckles, making your eyes shoot back up to meet his. Great, now he’s laughing at you.

It seems almost idiotic of you to think that today was going to be a great day. Yeah, it had started out that way, but all great days can change in an instant.

“No, no, it’s all on me. I was blinded by how gorgeous you are. Should’ve been focusing on not running into you and ruining my first impression.” His cheeks immediately turn a slight shade of pink, making him look even cuter than he already is. For a moment, you find it hard to believe that someone as perfect as him could be blushing and calling someone like you gorgeous.

“Oh, please, you could never ruin your first impression. I mean, just look at you.” You compliment, hoping you’re not being too forward, not wanting to scare him off when you just met him.

“Why, thank you, darling. I’m Tom.” God, that accent will be the death of you.

“I’m y/n. It’s nice to see that you still introduce yourself to people.” Most famous people that walked into this cafe expected everyone to know exactly who they were, even if they had only been in two episodes of a TV show or one film.

“Of course I introduce myself, I can’t automatically expect you to know who I am. For all I know, you hate movies.” He has a shy smile on his face, kind of like he was hoping you did like movies.

“Well, Tom, I do, in fact, like movies. But it’s sweet that you’re so humble about your major role in the film industry.” 

“It’s not that major, love. I’m just Spider-Man.” He talks about the role like it’s not that big of a deal, but you can see the way his eyes light up and the large smile that comes to his face.

“You are not just Spider-Man. Sorry if I’m being too direct here, but, in my opinion, Spider-Man will forever be the best superhero.” It’s your turn for your cheeks to tint pink. You can’t begin to process why you’re being this forward, this flirtatious. It’s the accent. Has to be.

“Is that so?” He smirks.

Oh what you would give to know what he was thinking at that exact moment. You may never know, however, because your boss interrupts the conversation you’re having.

“Y/N come back here, we have other customers than the Holland kid.” You roll your eyes at her and flash Tom an apologetic smile before reluctantly walking back to the counter.

There was not another customer in sight. There were barely any cars in the parking lot or on the street surrounding the cafe. Sounds about right, your manager had a long list of crazy rules for when she was the highest authority in the store. One of the biggest was that you’re not supposed to mingle with the customers for too long. She could have at least come up with a better excuse, though. Maybe Tom had liked your little cafe, and because of the rude comment, never wanted to come back.

*

The store is about five minutes from closing when Tom walks up to the register. 

“When’s your shift over, darling?” He has a cheeky smile on his face. For a split second, you let yourself internally groan. You had hoped he was different, that he wasn’t like every other guy that tried to pick you up after shifts. 

But then you realized, this was Tom Holland. There was no way in the world that he was like that. 

“Try to be more subtle, Holland. The directness doesn’t look too good on you.” You joke, knowing full well that it looks great on him. And honestly, if that’s what he had been asking, you would have pushed aside the part of you that was internally groaning and went right with him. Because, come on, it would be crazy to say no.

“I don’t want to sleep with you, love. I want to talk to you about something.” He smirks, obviously amused that you assumed he wanted to take you home with him.

You blush at that, embarrassment setting in. “I get off in less than five minutes.”

“Alright, sweetheart, my mate and I will be waiting in the car.” He points to an Audi sitting out front. “Meet us there. I’ll make Harrison sit in the back.”

“Alrighty, Tom, I’ll see you in five.” You give him a sweet smile, although you were extremely confused as to why you would be meeting him in his car.

Was he going to kidnap you? Who cares? He’s hot.

He turns and walks out the door as you rush to get everything done.

*

When your area is cleaned, you all but sprint to the back to get your laptop bag.

“Bye, everyone. Have a good night!” You yell, making sure everyone hears you. You always tell everyone goodbye before you leave, it’s just something that you’ve grown accustomed to. You started it the day that you began working at the cafe, and everyone liked the idea of it. So, it just kinda stuck.

You walk out of the cafe and head to the sleek, obviously expensive, silver car awaiting your presence. You open the passenger door and slip into the seat.

“Hello, love.” Tom greets you at the same time as Harrison says, “Dang, I owe you.”

“Hello, Tom. Harrison, why do you owe Tom?” The confusion is written all over your face as you look between the boys for an answer.

Harrison visibly gulps before replying, “I bet Tom that he scared you away and that you weren’t going to show.”

“Well, he was quite forward, but what person in their right mind would be told to come meet you two and not show up to, at least, see what it was you needed to talk about?” You sure couldn’t imagine someone turning down the offer.

“Exactly, Harrison. But, love, we do need to talk to you.” Tom says, turning your attention back to the actual reason that you are sitting in a car that costs more than probably three years worth of paychecks, with two very handsome men.

“Alright, fire away. What is it?” You’re more curious than ever, wondering what could be so important.

“So, my management is pushing me to find someone that will attend events with me.” His face contorts in embarrassment, already seeming to regret his decision of asking you anything. “They say that ‘a young bachelor like me will draw more attention if I am seen with a pretty lady by my side.’” He doesn’t exactly look embarrassed anymore, it’s more of a look filled with disgust at how his management team worded their statement. “Something about being more desirable if I’m taken. I don’t know. However, I do want to please my management, no matter how stupid they sound. And when I was talking to you in the cafe, you seemed to be sweet. And you’re gorgeous. And I felt like our conversation just kind of flowed.” He hesitates for a second, as if to see if you were following along or if you were lost.

He continued after you nodded for him to do so. “So basically, y/n, what I’m asking is, for the proper compensation, would you be that girl for me?”

“Wait, wait, wait. You, Tom Holland, are asking me, y/f/n y/l/n, to be the girl you take to major events?” You’re trying your best to wrap your head around the situation. 

“Well, not just that.” Harrison pipes up hesitantly.

“What else could there be?” Your voice is laced with confusion, and you know by the way that he places his arm on your leg to calm you, that Tom hears it.

“You would have to stay with me for a little while. Don’t worry though, if you say yes, we have guest rooms, so it wouldn’t be too invasive.” You can tell that he’s trying his best to make you as comfortable as possible with this. “You would need to go places with me, outside of these events. Nobody could know that the relationship is fake. Which means that our families and friends will have to be involved. Everyone, besides my management, and the three of us, would have to believe that it was real.” He avoids eye contact with you for a second, as if he was embarrassed to be asking something like this. 

You understand, though. He’s 23, he shouldn’t have to be tied down by a woman just because of his management. He should have the ability to choose what he wants to do with his life, especially the romantic aspect of it. 

“You can say no, of course.” Harrison says from behind you. “We wouldn’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do.”

“Yeah, there’s no need for you to do this if you don’t wan-” Tom begins, reaching a hand behind him to scratch his neck.

“I’ll do it.” you interrupt, surprising both of the boys in the car.

“Wait, really. That easy?” Tom asks.

“You seem surprised, Holland.” It wasn’t like you had anything better to do. You worked at a corner side cafe for a manager that absolutely hated you, and you had no relationships, so you were completely free.

“Well, I kind of am, love. I didn’t expect for you to say yes that fast. If at all. I expected for you to have to think about it for a few days. And then ultimately say no. But, alright. I’ll set up a meeting with my management so we can go over a contract and what your payment should be.” He pulls out his phone to put everything in his calendar.

“There’s no need for payment. I don’t need your money. I’m just here to help.” In reality, you probably could use the money, but that wasn’t the kind of person that you are. You like to help people, and you never, ever ask for anything in return.

“You really know how to pick the perfect girl, don’t you mate?” Harrison says. You look back at him and he has a smile on his face. He doesn’t seem to be joking. That thought makes your stomach storm with butterflies and your cheeks instantly heat up.

“Seems like it. Everyone else would’ve wanted my money. You just seem like you’re doing this to benefit me. Nobody seems to be that genuine these days.” Tom says, his eyes never leaving yours. Of course you’re genuine. Just because he’s famous doesn’t mean that he’s any less of a human being. You would help anyone in a situation like this. If they needed you, you wouldn’t hesitate to be their fake girlfriend for a week or two.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. But would you really say yes to just anyone? Probably not. At this point, though, you’re just telling yourself whatever helps you sleep at night.

“Well, I just figured that you could find someone worse than me. And if you really need this, who am I to make this hard for you? Plus, I don’t need your money. I have a job that I really like and it pays the bills.” You’re surprised that they seem to think so highly of you already. They don’t even know you. It’s nice to have someone think of you as more than an employee to boss around. Although, with this whole thing, you’ll basically be working for Tom. Just with less money and more touching.

“You’re about to have more than enough money. You won’t be needing to pay rent if you’re staying with me. If you want, you can move the stuff that you really need or want with you to my house. And the rest, we can put in storage if you want, it’s up to you.”

“That sounds alright to me. I can start packing tomorrow if you’d like.”

“Yeah, yeah, if you send me your address, I can come help you. Harrison would probably come as well, if he isn’t busy.” Tom says, looking back at Harrison for confirmation.

“I have a meeting in the morning, but I can come after lunch.” The blonde says from the back seat.

“Tom?” You say, getting his attention again.

“Yes, love?” He looks at you instantly, his eyes trace your face over and over, looking for any sign that you changed your mind.

“I don’t have your number. I can’t send you my address without it.” You smile, and place your hand atop of his, which was still on your thigh. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Hand me your phone darling.” You do as he says and he enters his number. “Text me the address and then anytime that you need anything.”

“Sure thing, now if you two gentlemen don’t mind, I think I’m going to head home. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“See you then, darling.” Tom says, watching you get out of the car.

“Goodbye, y/n.” you hear Harrison call before you shut the door.

You spend your drive home thinking about what in the world you just got yourself into.

*

Over the next few days, you had gotten closer to Tom. Your entire apartment had been packed up. You sent the things from your bedroom and other things that you wanted to make sure were with you to Tom’s house. The rest of your belongings went into a storage building that he wouldn’t stop pestering you until he got to pay for. That man was the most persistent person that you had ever met. 

You refused to let him pay for anything else, however. You didn’t need his money. And you didn’t want him to think that you only took his offer for the financial aspect. You genuinely just wanted to help him. 

You hadn’t started with your outings yet. You first had to have a meeting with his managers and some lawyers so that you could sign a nondisclosure agreement. Basically you just had to say that you wouldn’t tell anyone about this agreement with anyone. The whole thing would just end up blowing up in both of your faces. 

You could see the headlines now if this were to ever leak.

‘Tom Holland, 23 Year Old Heartthrob has to PAY for his Girlfriends!’

‘Y/N, Just Another Golddigger’

There was no way in the entire world that you would ever tell someone about the fakeness of the whole thing. The consequences would be catastrophic. And you could not be the reason that Tom’s career fell apart.

*

A week later, the NDA had been signed and you were hanging out in Tom’s living room. You were talking about absolutely nothing,but the conversation still flowed as if you were talking about something important. He was giggling at something that was on his phone when you had an idea.

“Let’s go out. To lunch. You know, like a date.” You look down at your hands, embarrassed for some reason. It’s not like you were actually dating him. This shouldn’t be scary. But it is. This is Tom Holland. 

What if you mess up? What if his fans hate the two of you together? What if his management regrets this decision? What if he regrets this decision?

That’s what’s running through your head as you wait for his answer. The silence that is radiating from him seems to be an uncomfortable one. The entire mood has shifted, and you hate the feeling of it.

“You-You’re asking me on a date?” You look up and he’s shocked. He’s looking at you like he can’t believe that you would ask him such a thing.

“Yeah, Tom. The public has to be introduced to me at some point. And it’s probably better to do some outings before the first event that you’re going to drag me to.” You try to explain, hoping that you thought right.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll go on a date with you, love. Where do you want to go?” He questions.

“I’m not sure. Where will we get the most exposure?” You’re trying your best to get this out there without having to do something like him posting it on Instagram.

You’re just trying to help him get this moving so that his managers have absolutely no reason to gripe at him. 

“Doesn’t matter. What’s your favorite place to get food?” He brushes the exposure idea aside, making it seem as if he really just wants this date to be just that, a date. 

Now you’re thinking crazy y/n, you think to yourself.

“Well it’s not really a restaurant, but I’m kind of a sucker for the Gains Bowls from the Body Energy Club.” 

“I have to say that I have never been there, or even really heard of it.” 

“You wouldn’t have. It’s over in the states. California.”

“Is that where you’re from?” He seems genuinely interested in the answer, so you answer honestly. 

“Yeah. Born and Raised. I moved out here to London so that I could stay with my best friend. He moved over here to go to college and I thought that was what I wanted too.” 

“What do you mean, you thought?” 

“I really just wanted to be a writer.”

“Do I get to meet this best friend of yours?”

“Oh, no, that won’t happen.” You want to leave it at that, as it is a sore subject for you, but you know that Tom’s going to ask why so you continue with, “We stopped being friends when he decided that my dreams were stupid. Told me that I would never make it as a writer.”

“Well, forget about him. You can be whatever you want to be. Don’t ever let anyone come in the way of what you want the most. I know the perfect place. But first, we need to get you into a dress.” 

“Are we matching?” You ask, wanting to know if you should coordinate with what he was wearing or not.

“No, not on dates, that would seem too staged.”

“Alright.” With that, you leave to go find a dress. 

When you signed the contract, you were also given a new wardrobe. Two, actually. One for dates that required dresses and one for non formal events that a dress should still be worn to.

The major events would have more extravagant dresses, of course.

So, you walk over to the rack in your room that holds all the ‘date dresses’ and you immediately pick the one that had been holding your eye since you got it.

It’s a blue high neck, lace cocktail dress. There’s a bow around the waist. It stops around mid thigh. You hope that Tom will like it. You remember him rambling about absolutely nothing in particular and accidentally telling you that his favorite color was blue.

You walk out of your room after fixing your hair and getting the rest of the things that you need.

Tom is standing in the living room in a white shirt, black blazer, and dress pants. Simple, yet perfect at the same time. How the hell can someone look that good? How the hell did you get so lucky? You know he isn’t really yours, but it’s a privilege just to be around him.

“You look ravishing, darling.” His voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“You look really, really handsome. Like, wow.” He chuckles at this, and your cheeks immediately heat up.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, love. I’m not the best at taking compliments, that’s all. Now, would you like to get going?” Tom says, trying to calm the nerves he can not only sense, but see due to the tint that has made its way to your burning cheeks.

You walk outside with him and get in the car. The ride to the restaurant is pretty quiet, the nerves having silenced you. 

“Darling, are you all right?” Tom asks, looking over to me when we came to a stop at a red light.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Tom. Just nervous about it all.” You say, looking down at your hands.

“What are you nervous about, sweetheart?” He looks over at you, concern evident in his voice.

“What if someone sees us and then they take pictures? I mean, I know that’s the point and all,” you swallow the lump in your throat, “but what if your fans hate me? What if they hate us together?” You’re completely out of breath now, the nerves not allowing you to get the proper amount of oxygen into your lungs.

“My fans will be fine with you, love. You’re gorgeous. We look great together. Plus,” he reaches over for your hand and gives it a light squeeze, “we don’t have to look at what they’re saying. They’ll warm up to the idea if they don’t instantly love you.”

His words do little to soothe your insecurities that have made their way to the surface, but you give him a smile anyway. 

He gives your hand another squeeze. He can tell that you’re still on edge.

“We can just go home if you want.” He suggests, just wanting you to be comfortable.

“No, no, it’s fine. I promise.” You assure him.

After that, the car ride goes back to being silent, but it’s no longer tense or awkward. 

It’s comfortable.

*

When you arrive at the little restaurant he brought you to, you look over at him.

“I’m gonna get out and get your door, alright love? Just breathe, you’ve got this.” He says, trying to reassure you.

He does as he said he would. He opens his door and grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips and giving it a warm kiss.

“Such a gentleman.” You coo at him, causing him to give you a sweet smile.

“I try.” He smirks at you, letting you know that he knows exactly what he’s doing, making your heart flutter lie nobody has been able to do in a long time.

You make your way into the restaurant, being seated almost immediately and then having someone bring your drinks of choice. 

“I miss moments like these.” Tom admits, although you don’t know what he means at first.

“Moments like what, Holland?” You question, wanting him to elaborate.

“Moments when I can be myself and not worry about saying the wrong thing because I know that someone is writing everything down.” This makes your heart swell, knowing that he feels this calm and open with you. 

“Well, I’m not writing anything down, darling. You can tell me anything you want and nobody will ever hear a word about it.” This makes him genuinely smile, and you can tell how happy he is to know that.

“Well, what do you wanna know, love?” 

“Hmm, what’s your story?” 

“That is such a cliche question!” He giggles.

“I know, I know, but I’m genuinely curious. The whole world knows Tom Holland: Spider-Man, but I just want to know Tom Holland: the person.” 

“Well, there’s not much to tell darling.” 

“That’s nonsense-” You were in the middle of your thought when the waiter came back up to you to take your food orders.

After he leaves, Tom looks at you and begins, “That’s not nonsense, there’s nothing exciting about me that you probably don’t already know.”

“Hmm, well, because of the media, I know that you have three brothers, all younger. You have a dog named Tessa. Two loving parents. You used to dance and you play golf sometimes.” He gives you a look that radiates surprise that you even know anything about him in the slightest. “However, I do not know your birthday, your favorite color, what made you want to be an actor.

“I don’t know what your favorite pastime is - unless it’s golf of course. I don’t know the little things.” He’s giving you a look of pure adoration, and you let yourself wonder for a second what this would be like if it was real.

“Not a lot of people take the time to get to know me like that anymore.” He says, barely above a whisper. You know instantly that it wasn’t meant to be heard, so you say nothing and let him continue. “If you must know, my birthday is June 1, my favorite color is blue, I was born an actor, darling, there wasn’t a question of whether I wanted to or not.” 

You giggled at that before motioning for him to continue. 

“And, honestly, unless it’s just hanging with Haz, golf probably is my favorite pastime.” 

“See? It wasn’t that hard to tell your story.”

“That’s not a story, y/n. That’s just details.” 

“Details make the story, Holland.” 

*

After you finish eating, he insists on paying, which you end up letting him do. But only because he brought up the fact that you were on a ‘date’ and no man in their right mind was going to make their girl pay, especially on the first date.

You’re on your way back out to his car, both laughing about nothing, when you get the sudden feeling that this may have been the best decision that you ever made.

*

A week later, you’re in a whirlwind of stylists, makeup artists, and managers. All getting you ready for some red carpet event that Tom was invited to. 

They’ve picked out an extravagant dress for you, one to match Tom’s suit. It’s a maroon, flowy dress. Very modest, neckline not showing too much, legs completely covered. But you still look like a princess, at least that’s what you think.

“You look ravishing, darling.” Tom says from behind you, shamelessly looking you up and down. 

You turn to look at him and all of the air is knocked from your lungs. “You look really handsome, Tommy.” 

He smiles at that. The first time you called him by that nickname, he seemed hesitant, thought it was too childish, but the name on your lips made it perfect.

“Thank you, darling. Are you ready to head out?” 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go show the world how absolutely amazing that Mr. Holland looks tonight.”

“Don’t forget that we have to show them how I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You cock your head to the side, wondering what he means by that. 

“I get to have someone as stunning as you accompany me, I don’t know how I got so lucky.” You can’t stop the blush that appears on your cheeks.

*

You stand arm in arm with him. There were flashing lights all around you, temporarily blinding you. There was nothing that you could possibly focus on. Nothing at all, except for the way that he held you to keep you steady.

There’s something about the way that he’s holding on to you, his arm slightly tighter around your waist than it needs to be, that makes your heart flutter, even though you know that there’s nothing going on between the two of you.

Right?

You push the thought fro your mind, almost completely. Although you can’t stop yourself from wanting to do something. Something that you’ve been trying your best not to do since the night you met him.

When he puts his arm back around you, you put your hand on his shoulder and lean up, giving him a kiss on the cheek, letting it linger there for a second before pulling away.

He looks shocked, and you begin to wonder if you made a mistake, moved too fast.

“I-I’m sorry. Was that too much?” He’s blushing profusely, and you begin to see that he’s trying to suppress a smile.

He leans down to your ear and whispers, “No, no, not at all darling. Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

And with that, all those little butterflies in your stomach multiply. And there’s no stopping them now.

Permanent Taglist: @spideygirl2003, @jackiehollanderr, @scarletsoldierrr, @thewayilookatbacon, @parker-barnes-af, @lost-in-the-stars03, @kisses-holland, @josiemara, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing, @fanficscuziranout, @babebenhardy, @akila-stilinski

Tom Holland Taglist: @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts, @averyfosterthoughts, @thorsangel, 

[emwritesfootball]

Sotto Voce: Chapter Three | John McGinn

Word Count: 1,866 Warnings: masturbation (female), oral sex (female receiving)

- - -

With no way to promote this newfound venture, John isn’t sure it’s going to do well, which is why he’s surprised when he checks the sites a few days later to find that he’s had a few thousand hits. The comments on some of them surprise him, too - people listening seem to love his accent and a few even want more videos along the same theme of punishment.

The days leading up to his next recording are filled with an intense amount of one-sided sexual tension. Things aren’t awkward between the two of them - unless you count the fact that he’s gotten off thinking about her once for his audio - but that doesn’t stop John from constantly questioning her actions or trying to spin something into a fantasy he can use later.

Case in point. It’s their usual weekly movie night and she’s got her legs across his lap. He’s absently tracing patterns on her calves and she doesn’t seem to mind, except when she shifts and adjusts every-so-often. When she does, she lets out little whimpers that are driving him mad with need, and John’s somewhat scared that she’ll move the wrong way and find out he’s got a raging hard-on. Thankfully, it never comes to that, but when he goes to bed that night, he knows exactly what he’s going to be recording tomorrow.

“You’ve been a tease all week,” he starts, opening this week’s fantasy with much more confidence. “Don’t try to play innocent with me, love. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. There’s longing and need behind those beautiful eyes.” He chuckles, shaking his head and leaning in on his elbows as he speaks sotto voce into the microphone. “I know you felt it, too.”

“Come here, love,” he murmurs, patting his lap. “Come straddle me. I want you to feel just how hard you make me while I kiss you. Don’t hold anything back - I’ll know.”

John only feels foolish for a moment as he brings his forearm to his mouth. The sensation of his lips on skin, even his own, override his senses as images of his roommate fill his head again. It’s wrong, he knows, but he can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have her like this, and on some level, these fantasies help quell his lust for her.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, imagining her eyes fluttering closed as he brushes his thumb over her cheekbones. “Are you gonna let me kiss your neck?”

He waits a beat for the answer, and then he starts kissing his way down his forearm. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” He says, making sure the microphone picks up the smirk in his voice. “Will you let me mark you, love?” He chuckles, kissing the same spot on his arm a few more times and holding. “Good girl.”

He imagines the shiver that would run down her spine at his praise. John’s seen the way she reacts to certain words and he knows that the phrase would drive her wild.

“Let me slide my hands up your thighs,” he continues, painting the picture with his voice. “Oh, does that turn you on - when I run my fingers over the edge of your shorts, making you buck your hips? Can you feel how hard my dick is for you, love? Does it make your pussy wet?”

John groans into the mic, his eyes involuntarily closing as he pictures her breathy whimper of need as she gasps a short ‘Yes’ against his neck. When he pushes her panties to the side, he imagines finding her wet, chuckling, “Look at you - such a mess! You’re positively dripping for me, love.”

“If I slide two fingers inside of you, will you cum for me?” John asks, visualizing her response. “Fuck,” he groans. “I just felt your pussy clench around my fingers when I brush my palm against your clit. Want me to do it again, don’t you? Needy thing.”

He makes a few more gestures and groans, giving her sufficient time for her orgasm to build. “You gonna cum for me, love? Yeah? Nngh - fuck! - your pussy feels so good squeezing my fingers like that. Keep going - I want every last bit of your orgasm. Thaaat’s a good girl.” He pauses, breathing heavily like he’s actually made his roommate cum. “Let me lick your juices off my hand. Mm, you taste so good… will you let me go down on you later tonight? Stick my tongue in that juicy pussy while you thread your fingers through my hair and ride my face?” John chuckles again. “You’d like that, wouldn't you? Naughty girl.”

He ends the audio session a little after that, going back and editing as needed. Within the last week he’s learned how to add in and layer sounds over each other, so he does just that, making sure that this audio is better than the last.

Luckily for him, he hits ‘Upload’ seconds before his roommate comes home, and he can breathe a sigh of relief that she still doesn’t know what he’s up to.

***

She finds it completely by accident, and she can’t believe she didn’t find it sooner. It’s up on one of her most frequently-visited sites, right at the top under Featured New.

The man’s username is TheScottishLad, and the moment she clicks on his most recent audio, she’s hooked. It doesn’t help that his accent makes her picture John and she has to bite her lip to keep from crying out too loudly. He’s long-since gone to bed and of course she can’t sleep that night, needing relief in the form of an orgasm. Not for the first time, she’s grateful that his room is on the other end of the house as she finds the toy she wants to use and turns it on.

The audio is titled ‘Bathroom Tease’ and it’s the most recent of his fifteen or so uploads. She makes a mental note to bookmark the page after she’s done with her orgasm, but the second she presses ‘Play’, she loses all rational thought.

“You’re teasing again, love.” The man’s voice invades her ears through her headphones and sends a shiver down her spine. “I’m getting ready for work, and you’re teasing again. You think you’re so coy, sitting on the counter in nothing but my shirt and that sexy smile, but you have no idea what I’ve got planned for you.”

The image he conjures up makes her think back to earlier in the week. She’d been doing the exact same thing - sitting on John’s counter as she watched him get ready - except, she knew, this was going to end much differently. This time, she’d actually get to cum instead of leaving his bathroom sexually frustrated.

“Spread your legs, darling - I wanna stand in between them. God, you look so sexy in my shirt. You can’t expect me to keep all this sexual frustration to myself, can you?” He chuckles and she lets out an audible moan. “Naughty girl, though - you’re not wearing panties!” He makes a tsk noise with his tongue and she can practically picture John shaking his head at her as this man asks, “What are we going to do with you?”

“Make me cum,” she whispers to herself, thrusting her toy in and out of her dripping pussy. “Please!”

“Let me run my fingers up your thighs.” She pictures John’s hands as the voice narrates, and it makes her unbearably horny. So far, it’s everything she wanted him to do to her in the bathroom earlier in the week and she needs to know how this ends. “Your little gasp is so sexy, love. Tell me… is that how you’re going to sound when I make you cum?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, biting down on her bottom lip as she arches her back into his invisible touch.

“Lean back on your elbows. I wanna see all of you. Thaaat’s it - good girl.” The way his accent trips over the praise has her head spinning. She’s always wanted John to call her that - even if he’d only mean it platonically - and hearing it said in a Scottish accent (even if it isn’t his) makes her pussy clench around the toy. “My, my - someone’s made a mess. Maybe you should’ve worn panties, but then again, that would take the fun out of what I’m about to do now. Open your mouth; I want you to taste yourself off my fingers.”

She dips her fingers between her legs, whimpering when the pads of her fingertips skim over her clit and she can feel how wet she is. It doesn’t feel weird when she lifts her fingers back up to her mouth, pretending they’re John’s as she swirls her tongue around them. She imagines the look on his face when her eyes connect with his, the brown turning shades darker with lust.

“See how good you taste? That’s why I love going down on you. Kissing-” he pauses, and the sound of lips on skin fill her headphones as he continues, “-my way up your inner thighs before I get to your sweet centre. Can you feel my breath on your clit? Does it excite you? I can see your pussy puckering, desperate to clench around something. Are you desperate for me, love?”

“Yes,” she mumbles, her thoughts barely coherent now. “Yes, so desperate, John. Please!”

“Normally, I’d take my time with you - make you beg - but I don’t wanna be late for work again because I made you edge too many times and gave you that orgasm you were craving. You’ve got a minute to cum, love, and if you don’t, that’s your own fault.”

The sounds of mouth-on-pussy have her reeling. She’s pretty sure the audio murmurs dirty things to her cunt while he continues, but she’s lost in her own little world thinking about John. She imagines her legs wrapped around his shoulders, her elbows shaking as she struggles to hold herself up while he goes down on her.

When he starts to count down, she loses it.

“Five.”

She turns up the vibration on her toy.

“Four.”

She starts to breathe heavily, panting in little whimpers as her orgasm builds.

“Three.”

John’s name is on her lips as she starts to thrust faster.

“Two.”

She cries out, “Oh, God! Please!”

“One. Cum for me, love.”

Her pussy spasms around the toy as his command triggers her orgasm. It’s one of the most intense orgasms she’s had all year, and the man she’s picturing in her head is none other than her friend and roommate. Sure, she’s had fantasies about him, thoughts she’d never acted on, but she’s never actually had an orgasm while his face is on her mind.

There’s a small twinge of something that she feels when she pulls the toy out of her pussy and sets it on her nightstand - she’ll clean it in the morning. Right now, she’s too spent to do much else except turn over and hook her leg around her body pillow as she drifts off into that perfect post-orgasm-satisfaction sleep.

[fishyspots]

the same magic touch

happiest belated birthday to @patrickbrewsky! one day i’ll finish the AU you deserve but for today i can give you this, inspired by a conversation we had a while back ❤️️(ps: it’s also on ao3)

“Why are you throwing that sweater out?”

Patrick looks up from the bin, fabric in hand. He feels caught out somehow, but he’s not sure why. “It has a hole in it?”

David stares him down from his spot by the bathroom door. “Why are you ripping holes in your best sweater?”

“I didn’t plan for this to happen,” Patrick protests. “It was totally innocent.”

“Hand it over.” David crosses Patrick’s apartment, narrowly missing clipping the bed with his knee, limbs akimbo the way they always are this early in the morning. Patrick lets David take the sweater from him, perhaps to say a fond farewell, and turns to start David’s coffee. He didn’t know David liked this sweater best; David’s peeled it off of him more than once, but that’s true of most of his shirts at this point.

For some reason, David folds the sweater and puts it in his bag instead of the trash where it belongs. “What are you going to do with that?”

David looks at him like he’s being difficult. “Excuse me?”

“If you’re trying to clone me, that sweater got ripped in the wash so you’ll want something less fresh.” Patrick grabs for the cocoa powder he keeps in his cupboard and that David still won’t look directly at.

“Why would I clone you before they let me edit out your sense of humor?”

“You love my sense of humor.”

David is scrolling through something on his phone now, clearly past the sweater conversation, but he looks up and smiles when Patrick slides his coffee across the counter. “I have very intentionally never said that.”

“Just like how you’re not saying what you’re going to do with my—”

“The tear is on the seam.” David shrugs and takes a sip, wrinkling his nose in the way that means he tastes the cocoa but will not be commenting on it at this time. “It’ll take, like, five minutes to fix.”

“And you know someone who’s willing to do that? Because the only person I can think of is Jocelyn, and I know you two have that begrudging acceptance thing going but I don’t think it extends to me.”

“She likes you too, you know. She told me last week that you were the best Emcee they could have cast.”

“That’s very sweet.” Patrick tilts his head. “But I don’t know there were any other contenders, so it probably sounds better than it is.” But they’re getting off topic now. “Wait, no. Who’s fixing this sweater?”

“I’m fixing the sweater.” David grabs his bag and sets the mug in the sink. “Should we go? We’re going to open late otherwise.”

David’s concern for keeping normal opening hours more than anything else tells Patrick that he’s missing something. Still: “You’re going to fix it.”

“That is correct.” David sighs. “Can we please go? If you wait much longer I’ll lose all this energy and then you’ll have to open by yourself.”

Patrick rolls his lips in and bites down. “How many sweaters have you mended, exactly? Because you talked for an hour once about all the cashmere sweaters you lost to moths.”

“Cashmere is different. Anyway, I’m not, like, totally helpless,” David says. “I went to art school.”

Patrick privately thinks that the sentence might be an oxymoron, but he can acknowledge his own bias here. He took a pottery class in college as his “understanding art” elective; he and his fellow business majors had a lot to say about the cost of equipment and the annoyance of waiting around for the clay to bake. And then after all of that, his glaze was cracked and uneven. “Do they teach stitching there? Like, a whole class?”

“Mm.” David’s mouth is a thin line. “Right after the Etch-A-Sketch one.”

Patrick may have overshot it. “That didn’t—”

“Go to the store. I’ll be there in an hour.”

Patrick sets the spare key on the counter and elects to retreat.

***

“This is earlier than I was expecting to see you.”

David makes a beeline for the macchiato Patrick set in a prominent place on the counter in a spot near the door. He didn’t want David to miss it. “I said an hour.”

The teasing is right there; Patrick has to consciously push down countless other times where David has wildly miscalculated his arrival time. Instead, he takes a breath and prepares for a real apology. They’re a new thing for the two of them—after his parents came to town, Patrick’s been making communication a priority. It’s mostly his idea, but it was spurred on by some...gentle suggestion from Stevie. He doesn’t want to keep falling back into old habits, and he’s not going to put the burden on David to keep him accountable.

But David has not been exceptionally amenable to this new strategy. “Stop,” he says once he’s taken a drink and turned to look at Patrick. “Enough. Thank you for the coffee.”

He drops a kiss on Patrick’s cheek and continues on to the back room. Patrick entertains the idea of following him, but the bell above the door chimes again and he pushes down the conversation they need to have. Not forever, he tells himself sternly. Just until closing. Or lunch, if he can rig them a break.

But it’s Ronnie crossing the threshold, so maybe they do need to finish their relationship discussion. Maybe close the store for the day, or something.

“Ronnie!” Patrick winces at the enthusiasm he can hear in his own voice. David keeps saying that he’s forcing it, which might be valid. “What are you looking for today?”

Ronnie lifts her chin but doesn’t make eye contact. “David here?”

Still trying too hard, then. “He’s in the back. I’ll get him.”

Apparently he heard them, because David’s already peeking out. “Sorry about that, Ronnie. Back for that cheese or is it something else?”

Ronnie lets David curate a cheese plate for her next Women in Business meeting and suggest some wine pairings; Patrick bites back his own opinions to the best of his ability. Or, he does after Ronnie pointedly sets the chardonnay back on the shelf after he says it’s his favorite.

David rings her up and sees her off, and Patrick opens his mouth again to take advantage of a lull. Then the phone rings.

“Can you take that?” David asks. “I want to figure out what we need for that greeting card workshop next month. Jo likes it when we order with at least three weeks’ notice, and they gave us that frame for the poster last time as a thank you so I don’t want to—”

Patrick waves him off before the phone goes to voicemail. “I got it.”

Fortunately for their stocking schedule, it’s Brenda. They’ve been running low on the moisturizer she’s trying out recently, and they need to get more on the shelf as soon as she has it ready. Unfortunately for him, Brenda called seeking opinions about her new combination skin formula and the essential oil blend. David informed Patrick early on that he had combination skin, but Patrick senses that Brenda will not find this information useful. He bides his time and lets Brenda talk until David catches on to his frantic gestures.

They don't teach this in business school. He lets his eyes drift from David's face (a struggle, sometimes) to the bag at his boyfriend's feet. They don't teach a lot of things in business school.

Patrick passes off the phone and greets the next customers, who thankfully do not have any qualms about his personality. Then he checks the stock spreadsheet. They’re getting low on sweaters and socks after the cold snap last week, so he flags the vendors for David to email and sets about filling in the blank spots on the shelves after a busy morning.

The sound of David’s voice soothes Patrick’s nerves even more than the playlist he and David made together in a process that started adversarial (“Smooth jazz? Why not just get a Muzak?” “People shop in those stores too, David.”) and turned playful after they decided on a one-for-one system. Patrick’s alt-folk mixes surprisingly seamlessly with the Whitneys and Mariahs David added. Even the Counting Crows Patrick put on the list just to be contrary fits, in a way.

“Everything okay with Brenda?” Patrick asks after David drops the phone back into his holder. “Are you going to put a new cleanser in my bathroom soon?”

“I don’t see why those two things are necessarily related,” David says, “but yes to both.”

“Good to know.” They might be able to flip the sign for lunch if they’re quick; clouds are gathering in the sky outside in a way that spells a dreary afternoon. “Want me to pick us up something?”

Patrick heads for the door at David’s nod of assent. Even though they haven’t talked about it, he still feels like he’s making up for something. Hopefully that will change. He’s jumping into this new talking strategy with both feet, and he just hopes that David will catch him.

Silly, he thinks as he crosses the street. David has never once let him fall.

Twyla greets him with a sunny smile and asks if they want their usual. For him, a burger is pretty standard, but David keeps vacillating between different soups, sandwiches, and salads. It’s a caesar salad day today; though Patrick would love to read into David’s mood from his choice, he knows better than that by now. David just does what he wants sometimes. As for Patrick, he’s mostly just happy that David is limiting the chance that he won’t like his food. He worked through the international section of the menu last week and spent three afternoons in a row cranky due to hunger and the continual failure of the café to meet his admittedly unrealistic expectations. He does add a cookie, because communication is great and all but it’s always good to have an insurance policy if things go south.

Back at the store, David’s handing over a Rose Apothecary tote to Roland and he’s not even grimacing. Much. There’s definite relief in his eyes when Patrick holds the door for Roland, though. It’s quickly replaced by confusion when Patrick flips the sign.

“I thought we could eat lunch together?” Patrick resists the urge to kick at the ground like a teenager, but it’s there. “We haven’t had much time to just...see each other. Today.”

“I saw plenty of you this morning.” David raises an eyebrow suggestively.

Patrick fights his easy blush; that’s beside the point. “That’s not—”

“You know I never complain about seeing you,” David continues. “But Roland said Jocelyn is going to stop by later, so we’ll have to keep an eye out.”

Patrick thinks Jocelyn can probably wait, but he keeps that to himself. He waits until they’re settled on the couch with David’s left thigh pressing against his right and David can’t talk past his mouthful of lettuce before he broaches the topic. “I did want to talk about this morning.”

David’s eyes widen as he chews, but he does look a little less frantic than he would months or even a year ago if Patrick said something similar.

While David can’t cut him off, Patrick presses his advantage. “I didn’t want to make you feel like you’re helpless. I don’t think you’re helpless.”

David rolls his eyes, but there’s something tight around his mouth that tells Patrick he has to do a little more here. He swallows, so Patrick hurries to finish his thought.

“I think you’re...you do a lot that I don’t do.”

“And you do a lot I don’t do.”

“I don’t think—no, I know, I know I don’t think about that enough.”

Something suspicious dissipates from David’s face. “Is this your whole talking thing again?”

“I don’t have a whole talking thing,” Patrick protests.

“You’ve had a whole talking thing for weeks now. Do you want me to run through all of my skills, or is it sufficient to just say that we’re okay?”

Patrick definitely had prepared to run through all of David’s skills, but he elects to save that for another time. Maybe tonight, when he has more ability to keep David in one place until he’s finished saying what he wants to say. “It’s enough. For now.”

“Threatening me with conversation.” David shakes his head. But he doesn’t take another bite, so he’s at least somewhat worried that Patrick will drop all of his feelings right this moment.

“You can eat, David.”

David lifts his fork cautiously.

So Patrick has no choice, really. “I love you.”

Patrick wants to frame the look David gives him, cheeks slightly bulging and eyes furious and generally perfect.

They unlock the front door in time to catch Jocelyn, and Patrick finds himself still cataloguing David’s competencies for the rest of the day. That night, Patrick sees his sweater, repaired and neatly folded in the way that David says limits wrinkles, hidden in his drawer under a college sweatshirt. It looks as good as new. “Thanks for the sweater.”

“Well, the cloning people were unhelpful. Said I’d have to keep all of you if I went for a new one, and I don’t have the constitution to be mocked twice as often.”

Patrick can’t let it go without saying something, though. “David. Thank you.” That should cover his whole talking thing for now. David still looks at him like he’s a too-large shipment that won’t fit in the planned display. Back to teasing, then. “You know, I had a thought.” Patrick affects his most guileless expression as he slides into bed next to his boyfriend. David’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Since you’re so good at this, and you went to art school and all, maybe you can help with costumes for Cabaret.”

Patrick enjoys the horrified look that blooms across David’s face probably too much. “I’m suddenly feeling very helpless.”

“Could be worse,” Patrick says. “At least there’s only one of me to deal with.”

[rosesvioletshardy]

can we do it? - billy/four - chapter 6

this story is almost to being done, not sure how many chapter i exactly want to do but it’s close to finishing but i’ll try to add something at the end.

also i’m very sorry by how terrible the beginning of this chapter is i stayed up all night writing it and i’m very tired so i’m not sure if it’s fully edited or how many mistakes there are

summary: one team, seven people, two lovers. things are about to get crazy and zero and four don’t know if they can manage do it.

masterlist

# of words:2,486 (little shorter than last one sorry)

warnings: (terrible) SMUT (please don’t read if you’re not 18+), oral (m receiving), fluff, angst, substance use???

taglist 

--

All throughout the night, Four couldn’t sleep. He kept tossing and turning, unable to get the thought of almost dying out of his head. Usually he had no problem the first time when he first met One and Zero, but for some reason this time it became worse. He got up and sat on the bed, running his hands over his hands and face before looking around and going to his bag. Four searched around for a bit, since it was dark and the only light he had was from the windows, before he found what he was looking for and went outside. He didn’t smoke often, just when he was stressed and needed to relax. He loved seeing other cities at night because of how each of them always had different energies and different lighting structures. As he was smoking, Zero felt cold before turning and felt an empty spot next to her. She got out of the bed to see a figure smoking on the balcony before realizing it was Four. She shook her head and got out and went to wrap her arms around his waist. He turned his head to find her behind him before she let go and went to his side. They stood there in quiet as he breathed in the smoke and exhaled.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked

“Didn’t have my heater with me. What about you? Was it because of what happened?” she asked him, rubbing his shoulder concerned. He didn’t answer and stood quiet smoking which meant that he was. 

“I overheard.”

“What?”

“I overheard what you said just before you guys stopped. You said, “I’m not going to watch another person I love die.”. Is it true? Do you love me?” he asked not even looking at her while putting his cigarette out

“Of course, but it’s a different kind of love and I haven’t truly felt it before with someone. I didn’t even realize at the moment. Look. There's something I need to tell you. He’s going to kill me for this but, Six, he was my brother. We’ve been through everything through thick and thin. He was my best friend, and the best older brother. Seeing him die made me want to shut away from everything and never even bother to feel again. Then, that one night, I felt something but I disregarded it, and kept ignoring everything. You kept charming your way into my heart and I let you in. a few hours ago is when I said it out loud for the first time. Hell, I even pulled a gun on three making him stop the car.” she said making four let out a small laugh

“You pulled a gun on someone? I would’ve loved to see that.” he said smiling

“Yeah, I did, but I didn't want to hold it in any longer. I didn’t want to say something that could’ve been too late, but it’s not too late now. I love you Four.” she finished

Four looked at her with a small smile on his face before looking down. He left out a small laugh before lifting his head, and grabbing her face to kiss her. She pulled him in as she took one of her hands to hold his face. When they broke away, their foreheads touched as they breathed heavily.

“I love you Zero.” he told her

“One more thing i wanted to ask you” he asked after a moment of silence as she nodded

“Earlier, when you ran off to the bathroom? Are you okay?”

She stood there in silence because she didn’t know exactly what it is and they didn’t know when they were going to be finished so that Five would be able to test her

“Yeah, it was probably just nerves or something bad I ate. No need to worry.” she told him as he nodded and looked back over the city

The two stood in silence, staring at each other before kissing each other again with more passion as they walked back into their room, trying not to trip or hit anything. When they reached the bed, she took off his shirt as she broke away from the kiss and started to kiss against his jaw and neck before finding his sweet spot as he moaned. He laid down on the bed as Zero sat on his lap as they connected their lips again. After moments of kissing, he was about to flip her over before she stopped him

“No. Tonight, it’s all about you.” she whispered looking into his eyes

She broke away and began to leave light feathery kissing against his neck, his breath hitching as one of her hands reached down and began to palm him through his sweats, already hard. He let out a groan, Zero leaving marks over his collarbones. While pressing kisses down his chest, she pushed down his sweats along with his underwear. His cock laid against his stomach, as pre-cum glistened at the head. She wrapped her hand around it and started to slide it up and down slowly. Four couldn’t help but let out a groan as his eyes closed and let out a small “fuck” while his chest rose and fell heavily. She leant down and gave a kiss to his head and licked underneath causing him to let out a gasp.

She slid her lips over his head, moaning before taking him even sliding down even further. Bobbing her head up and down, hands around his dick as he lightly grabbed her head and pushed her down further.

“Fuck. I’m so close.” he barely whispered

She continued to bob her head as he tried to hold in his moans as she began to suck harder, working his shaft with determination.

“I’m going to cum, fuck.” he told her as hold ropes of cum shot out of his cock. The salty liquid ran down her throat, warming her insides as she pulled away with a pop. Four looked at her in awe as she moved away to take off his shirt that she was wearing. Leaving her in her underwear, she began to grind on him as one of his hands reached for one of her breasts as she moaned when he did so. He hooked his fingers from his other hand around her underwear, signaling her to take it off. When she took it off, she grabbed his cock and lined herself up as the tip touched her. She slowly sank down as small whimpers left her mouth as he applied pressure to her clit.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Are you okay?” he groaned hitting his head against the headboard, his bottom lip between his teeth as she seated down on him, his cock buried inside her with his hands now tightly set on her waist, enough to leave small bruises

“I’m fine. I’m okay, just want to make up for the plane ride”

“Well woman, you’re doing a lot more.”

Zero started to roll her hips, letting out small breaths of relief and a breathy moan against his neck. Her hand moved from his shoulder all the way down to her clit where she started to rub herself. Four was letting out moans of her name as she bounced up and down on him while he thrusted up. His hands loosened the grips on her waist, now one to her ass and the other caressing one of her nipples, sending a shockwave of pleasure. She leant down so that both of their foreheads were touching as they continued to move in sync

“Oh this feels so good, baby girl.”

“Does it?” she asked panting and moaning, while whispering dirty things in his ears making him thrust into her harder, moans and groans coming out from the both of them

His hand moved down to her clit and started to massage it, as Zero was panting, all while repeating his name and small whimpers in between

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” she whimpered as he began to get more rough against her core

“Shit, i’m so close. Do you want to cum?

“Yes. yes, i do.”

“You’re such a good girl. Let go” he whispered to her before kissing her as she became undone, letting out a whine

“Only for you baby. Please fill me up, fuck. Come inside me.”  she told him, voice shaky

“Shit, baby”

Four gave a few more thrusts before he released inside of her. His cum coating her walls, a warm sensation filling inside of her as they breathed heavily, a thin layer of sweat covering their bodies as they pressed their foreheads together. 

“I love you”

“I love you too”

---

As their breathing died down, it was quiet. This time the sex felt different for them, as if there was more emotion and they felt more connected. He looked down at her and kissed her head as she took his calloused hand and began to trace the tattoos that scattered his knuckles, kissing each of them.

“What do they mean?” she asked him, looking back into his green eyes

“Not sure, just felt like getting them. I think my favorite one is the lion’s nose. Makes me feel stronger.” he told her as she flipped over onto her stomach

“Lion’s nose? I always thought it was a whale tail?” she laughed causing his to smile

“Well i guess it kind of does look like one, but yeah it’s a nose.”

“Do you think the rest of this mission is going to go the way it’s planned?” “No. remembered what happened several hours ago? Whatever happens, just know we’re in it together and we always have each other's backs.” he told her giving her a peck and holding her hand

“C’mon, we should get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.” he finished as Zero went back to her original position and laying next to him, holding him

“Night, four.”

“Night Zero”

The next morning they knew they had to get up earlier so Four can go back to his room after covering up the markings they made on each other. After their talk the night before, they didn’t care as to what One thought about them or if he didn’t allow it. They both found someone who cares about them and they didn’t want that to be torn away from them.

The team gathered in the same spot where they gathered before but in an empty truck further out where no one can fully see them. Four grabbed Murat out and took him inside where they all were. Before they started to talk, One got mad at Seven and Zero for the stunt they pulled the night before claiming that they should’ve left Four behind.

“This shit isn’t sitting right with me, man. You made me a promise. You said you’d always let me pull the trigger.” seven told one

“Yeah. yeah. I did say that.” One said 

“You remember that?!” Seven asked, grabbing One by the collar and pushing him up against the wall.

“You know why we don’t use names?”

“Why?”

“No offense, Four, I’m glad you’re alive, but you left us out on that street there. We were totally exposed. The both of you.” One told Seven and Zero pointing at them

“If i was up there, I’d expect you to leave me and not turn back. Mission is more important than the man. We were lucky enough to get the footage at any possible camera available removed.” he finished 

“No, fuck that. Fuck the mission. You don’t leave a soldier behind.”

“Well, I got news for you. Seven, you’re not a soldier anymore. She’s not a hacker. She’s not a doctor. She’s not a spy. He’s not a hitman. And I'm not a CEO.” “You mean a rich asshole?” Zero interrupted

“Oh i’m still a rich asshole sweetheart. I just don’t have a name.” he said looking at her

“You are. What’s your name?” Seven asked Four. he looked at him, Zero, and One before saying his name before this life happened

“Don’t tell him.”

“I’m Blaine. I just saved your life. What’s your name?” Seven or Blaine told Four as he took a moment

“It’s Billy.” he said. Zero looked at him even though she already knew. He still did look like one every time she glanced over at him

“Billy. You look like a Billy.”

“You look like a Four.” One interrupted

“And you? You said you loved him. So, what’s your name?” Blaine asked Zero

“Y/N.”

“Yeah I can see that.”

“I’m Javier”

“Camille”

“Amelia.”

“God dammit. Okay we’re leaving now. Four, Zero. I need to talk to you.” One said in a demanding tone as everyone looked at them then left

One didn’t even know where to start as the two stood next to each other as he paced back and forth. Every now and then he would stop and point as if he did think of something to say before going back to doing what he was doing. Billy and Y/N didn’t know what to do besides stand next to each other and subtly brush their fingers against each other to make sure they’re both alright and not have their hearts bust out of their chests from how fast it was beating

“Mad doesn’t even cut it to how angry I am right now. Did the two of you not listen to a single thing I said?” One asked flailing his hands everywhere

“Oh my god. This is why I don't want shit like this to happen. How long?” he finished while rubbing his temples while the two stood silent before speaking

“Since you, two, and three went to Vegas. That was our first time sleeping with each other.” Billy answered truthfully. One couldn’t but just let out a deep sigh while running his hand through his hand

“Jesus. I can’t control this group.” he whispered to himself

“Okay. I know I’ve been against things like this since the beginning of this group, but if you two break up and it ends badly, I’m not going to say I told you so. Be careful about this.” he finished pointing at both of them before walking away and leaving the two standing there.

All Billy and y/n could do was stare at each other before grabbing each other’s hands and following. They both knew what the other was thinking and told themselves from the beginning that if they decided to end things, it should be mutual and they would talk out every single one of their problems. She wanted him to feel like he was in a safe space and didn’t have to hide his feelings deep down and he wanted her to know that focusing on herself was okay and that she didn’t always need to pretend that her feelings weren’t valid and always play the therapist role.

[letters-from-eros]

Pairing: Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst To Fluff

Form: Oneshot. Songfic

AU: Hanahaki disease.

A/N: I had to edit this so hard for me to like it at all 😭 I hope you all enjoy.

Thank you.

You laid down, sprawled out on your bed with flower petals surrounding you. You think they're petals from a rose but they could just be stained in blood. You honestly didn't really understand how your condition worked, even though the extensive research you did and the consults with doctors. What you did know is that you're grateful that you haven't started coughing up blood, which is a side effect of progressed Hanahaki; AKA you're conditon/disease. It was obvious you had bigger and better things to worry about than Kirishima (the cause of the suffocating disease) but the petals were a constant reminder of him. You wonder if he thinks about you at least a tenth of how much you think about him.

The only people who know about your... Condition, is Jiro and Mina, your two best friends. Jiro is there to comfort you, though she can't quite understand why you would go through so much pain just to hold feelings for someone, Mina's there to try to make Jiro understand the importance of love and to make you happier about the situation. You couldn't ask for better friends, honestly.

The lump in your throat starts to form and come up and you take a deep breath and let the cough come, sitting upright, expelling the flowers. After the coughing fit is done you're left panting but there was something that didn't have the petals just fall out of your hand. You look at your hand that you coughed into.

Blood. It was laced on the flower making it oddly stick to you're hand.

You quickly went to the bathroom to flush the petals you just coughed up and wash the remainder of blood off your hands before rushing back to your room to call your two support units. You fumble with your phone before you manage to start a group call.

One ring, Mina is in.

"Hey, what's up?!" She asked in a cheery tone

"One second..." You hoarsely respond, waiting for Jiro.

3 rings, Jiro picks up.

"Sorry, couldn't hear my phone over my music, what's up you guys?" Jiro says in her usually monotone voice.

"I... I coughed up blood, guys," You confess to them.

"Y/N..." Jiro sighed, you could practically hear the head shaking and facepalming.

"It's time to confess, hun. And if he doesn't reciprocate it you can go get the procedure," Mina said in a fairly sassy tone, referencing the procedure I could take to make sure I would never cough up flowers again but that would iradicate my feelings for Kirishima.

"Yeah, I know. I'm not a blinded by love idiot," You respond, matter of factly.

"Thank god.." Jiro scoffed and you and Mina chuckled.

"So how am gonna ask him out?" You ask your polar opposite best friends.

Timeskip

You see Kirishima and Bakugo argue over... Something, at Bakugo's desk that was on the other side of the classroom than yours. You watch the clock tick for a few seconds before you start writing your note.

'Meet me at the auditorium,

                                             -Vines'

That was his nickname for you, vines. It referenced your quirk called the same thing. Oh the irony that you can sprout vines from your palms and control plants then you get a disease to cough up flowers.. The doctor who you went to to consult when you first starting coughing up the petals actually said that your quirk had the possibility to make the condition worst.

The bell rang and Bakugo and Eijiro continued arguing. You quickly left class and slipped the note into his prior to hurrying to the Auditorium.

Once you got there you found Mina adjusting her stool for the drums (Bakugo taught her how to play them) and Jiro tuning her bass. They both faked illness at some point of class to go set up the stage.

"Hey there, lover girl," Jiro said into the mic as you threw your backpack into some random chairs on the back row.

"Aren't you supposed to say check one two?" You snarkily replied. Once you got on stage you adjusted the height of your mic stand so that the mic was at your mouth.

The plan was great. You're gonna sing a cool love song that was playing in your earbuds when you first met Kirishima. You hope to god he doesn't have the memory of a goldfish and remembers the fact, especially after already telling him multiple times prior to conceiving the idea to sing to him. It was your favorite song because of that reason..

Two plants were on both sides of the door, you focus your quirk to move the plant vases to the middle of the main aisle, curling the branches into an intricate design that ultimately formed a heart.

"Pretty~" Mina spoke up in awe, staring at it. It was somewhat rare for you to use your quirk for something other than combat and it can be forgotten you can do cool, small things like this.

The door starts to creek open as Jiro and Mina start playing the beginning instrumentals. You start to sing the beginning verse as Eijiro fully comes into the auditorium, already awe struck.

Eijiro Kirishima's POV

"All I wanted was you," Y/N strong yet smooth voice sings, bouncing off the auditorium walls. I've get to hear her sing on rare occassions and I don't think I love anything more, well except for Y/N herself but unlike her singing I have to keep that love to myself...

I take a few steps further down the isle as an instrumental sounds off. Her quirk is so cool to add this beautiful and manly arbor, I doubt anything like this could be bought at a store.

I try to focus solely on her voice, but the thought keeps ringing in the back of my head onto why am I the only one watching? I know this song held significance us, but this seems so sudden. I am a man for spontaneity yet something like this seems random nonetheless. I should just focus on her singing.

Your POV

The ball starts to form in your throat towards the end of the song, you try to surpress it but your voice cracks just slightly, which is so embarrassing.. Which makes you focus on how stupid you're probably looking out of embarrassment which leads to you not focusing on the flowers which make them launch out in coughs. You pull the microphone away as weakening coughs expell the roses.  After your coughing fit theres a bed of rose petals, each one dotted with at least a little blood.

A pair of strong arms make you stand up straight before entrapping you.

"You have Hanahaki?" Kirishima questioms softly, barely above a whisper. Apparently he's heard of the disease. Didn't he do a very botched project on it once..?

"Mhm..." You confirm. He nuzzles his forhead into the crook of your neck as you hug him tighter.

"Because of me?" He questions again, sounding guilty, it took a second to process that if it was him, it meant that you reciprocated his feelings. The question was fueled by his instant assumption to blame himself.

"Mhm..." You respond, a bit to anxious to respond in full words, let alone full sentences.

"I'm so sorry.. I had no idea.. Y/N," He says, drawing away and looking into your eyes, hands moving to either side of your face. "Y/N.. I love you so much, I'm so sorry I didn't show you sooner.. I never meant to hurt you!"

How unmanly was the only word that Kirishima could think of to describe his cowardice to tell you how he feels, only to see that it left you with a painful disease. The supporting grip on your waist tightened, and the man in front of you looked like he was about to shatter into a thousand pieces.

"Its okay! There was no way you could've known!"

"But-"

"It isn't you're fault, please don't blame yourself.." You empathetically started to mirror Kirishima's feeling of guilt and sadness and your smile slowly turned into a dejected one.

Strong arms wrapped completely around you in a tight hug, causing you both to wobble a bit.

"I'm so sorry.. Uh, d-don't I need to kiss you? To get rid of the.. The flowers, I mean," A warm tint that complemented his hair flushed across his cheeks as he thought back to his botched project on Hanahaki. Requited feelings was enough to keep the disease at bay.

"Not if you don't want to, Kiri," You smiled warming at the flustered teen in front of until a rough collision of lips against yours. It was filled with anxiety and awkwardness from the redheads behalf with this being the first time kissing anyone, let alone someone who he loved as much as you.

"Woo!!" Jirou catcalled, exiting the auditorium with a playful smile

"Yaaaasssss!!!" Mina cheered.

They were already gone by the time you both had pulled away from the kiss, leaving you both at a complete and utter loss for words.

You relished in the feeling of breaths unclogged with suffocating flowers, the feeling on Kirishima's soft, lingering hold across your waist that he didn't even know was there. There are no words in the english dialect to describe this moment of blissful clarity. It was hard for you to even come up with words to say.

So many feelings to express, but all that came out was a soft, grateful, "Thank you."

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Walk Me Home - Ch 5

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension. 

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 3777

Author’s Note: Eternal thanks to @mskathywriteswords​ , @fangirlxwritesx67​, and @cracksinthewalls​ for editing, revision, flailing, and generally knocking sense into me when I’m being stubborn. Decided to give Wednesday posting a try and also get a chapter up a little earlier to make up for lack of posting. Be prepared to brush your teeth after this one. The fluff morphed into cotton candy when I wasn’t looking. Also, be prepared, the next chapter is short, but...intense? Yes. Let’s say intense. 

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY. 

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 5

Kimber drifts gradually back to consciousness, feeling warmer and safer than she has in decades. She draws in a deep breath, stretching luxuriously, and then stilling suddenly. This bed is not her bed. This blanket is not her blanket. She has a brief moment of panic before she opens her eyes to find Dean’s face inches from hers, smooth and relaxed with sleep.

She’d only been able to let him go last night long enough for him to grab his own quick shower and change into sleep clothes. Then, in wordless agreement, they’d settled under the covers of her bed. They’d woven limbs together, pressed close without a word of discussion or thought of awkwardness. 

Just as she was falling asleep, she felt his cheek press against the top of her head, and he’d murmured a single question. She nodded her consent, and his lips met her forehead, just as soft and warm as she remembered. Then sleep asserted its claim.

Kimber lies still in Dean’s arms now, afraid to move and wake him. She’s never seen him this peaceful and relaxed, even back before life took more of a toll on him. With his guard down, she can finally see all the fine lines etched by a hard life spread over his features, adding depth and detail to his face. 

In the early morning light filtering through the threadbare curtains, she can just make out a sparse sprinkling of gray in his hair, and she smiles. Time may be catching up with Dean Winchester, but he is definitely not worse for wear. 

She shifts a little, freeing a hand, and he grumbles in his sleep, his arms tightening for a second before relaxing again. She strokes his hair back gently, combing her nails lightly across his scalp, and he shivers against her. 

She’s never seen him this vulnerable, this soft, even when they were younger. She has to strangle down the urge to trace his facial features with her fingertips. Whatever this is between them is strained by absence and misunderstanding but has somehow managed to survive the years. Touching him so intimately without his knowledge or consent…

No, she thinks. I want to ask him, I want him to hear him say yes. I want him to ask me to touch him.

Instead, she snuggles closer, closing her eyes and resting her face on his chest again, basking in the safety and warmth of his embrace for as long as she can. She is mortified when, five minutes later, her stomach lets out a growl so loud that it actually rouses Dean from his sleep. His arms tense as he stretches and frowns, eyebrows lowering with concern.

“You hungry or just really happy to see me?” he rumbles, his eyes closing again. She giggles, embarrassment abated. Then she becomes acutely aware of the rat’s nest that is her hair and what tastes like a truly horrific case of morning breath. She disentagles herself from his legs and rolls from his grasp, smiling to herself at his muttered protests. Snatching her previous day’s clothes, Kimber slips into the bathroom to perform whatever damage control she can manage under the circumstances. 

Thirty minutes later finds them at the diner across the parking lot, downing coffee with mutual, silent appreciation. Dean’s brother Sam is expected imminently, and Kimber has no classes or office hours today, so they are mostly ready to begin the investigation.

“We need to sweep your office and house for hex bags,” Dean says, between sips of his second cup of coffee. “Your house will take a while, so why don’t we start with your office to get it out of the way?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Kimber agrees, frowning. “I’ll know if anything is missing, out of place, or new. Maybe you and Sam could check out the spots of the other accidents?”

Dean opens his mouth to answer, then his eyes focus on something over her shoulder, and he nods a greeting. She turns to see a ridiculously tall man in a suit headed in their direction. It takes her longer than she’s proud to admit to reconcile this giant stranger with the slumped, defeated boy she last saw in the backseat of the Winchester’s car.

“Sam?”

His smile is warm, if a little hesitant, and she stands. They fumble between a hug and a handshake, finally settling on the former before seating themselves. A waitress drops off another mug for Sam, along with coffee refills all around, and they waste no time filling Sam in on the little they know and what they have planned.

“Actually, Sam,” Dean adds, glancing askance at the egg white omelette the waitress places in front of his brother, “I was thinking you could interview the victims at the hospital, see if they noticed anyone out of the ordinary or had contact with anyone that sounds like our stalker.” 

Sam nods, his mouth full, and turns questioning eyes on Kimber. She closes her eyes, pushing as much distraction from her mind as possible.

“He was...on the shorter side. I’d say I probably have an inch or so on him. Younger than me, but I don’t know by how much. I’m really bad at judging age, I’m sorry. Unshaven but not a full beard, kind of rough-looking. Really pale. He never looked me in the eyes, so I didn’t see his eye color. Dark, shaggy hair.”

She shrugs, spreading her hands in apology. “I don’t remember much else. Dark blue windbreaker? It’s been a few weeks, and I didn’t think I’d have to point him out in a line-up or anything.”

Sam shakes his head quickly, swallowing. “No, Kimber, it’s fine. That’s more to go on than we usually have. I’ll talk to the victims, see if anyone stands out in their minds. You two have a solid plan. I’ll give you a call after I visit the hospital, see what I can find out.”

He hesitates, his eyebrows knitted together. “Kimber, I know you’re under a lot of strain, but could you go over the incidents one more time so I have the basics before I go talk to them? I wouldn’t ask, but I need to know what to expect.”

She can’t repress the shudder than runs through her stomach, but she shakes it off and rolls her shoulders. This is just an information exchange. She can handle that. She may need a drink or two afterwards, but she can get through it one more time.

Sam listens attentively, his forehead wrinkled, mouth set in a thin-lipped frown as she recounts the series of accidents plaguing her department. He exchanges some sort of troubled, wordless communication with Dean before glancing down at his folded hands. After considering for a long moment, he speaks, his words measured and careful.

“It definitely sounds like someone has a grudge against your department, at least, if not you specifically. All the victims are friends or work closely with you. We don’t know if any of the other victims got a doll like yours. That’s something for my list. You sure you can’t think of any reason, anything at all, that might make someone target all of you?”

She shoves down her mounting frustration, feeling impotent and slow. If she could think of anything at all helpful, she would have shared it by now. 

“I really can’t, I’m sorry. I just don’t interact with that many people outside of the department, and we all get along fine, as far as I know. No special treatment, no recent honors anyone could be jealous of. I checked in with my hunter contacts that I’d helped out with witch cases in the last few years, even a few non-witch cases that were still open, and I got nowhere with that. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Sam sighs, nodding before finishing the last of his coffee. “Figured it was worth asking. Okay, I’m heading out. Dean, I’ll give you a call in a few hours.”

Dean nods to Sam, and the younger Winchester excuses himself, crossing the crowded restaurant with a few long strides before disappearing out the door.

Kimber turns back to Dean, her eyes wide with shock she’s barely managed to suppress until just now. He frowns, taking in her expression, looks down to inspect his shirt, then back up, his face comically confused.

“What? Do I have food on my face?”

“What did you feed him after you left town?!” Kimber keeps her volume low but can’t keep the wonder from her voice. “Growth hormones? Steroids? Jesus, he’s over a foot taller than the last time I saw you both, and he was already thirteen then!”

Dean barks out a loud, sharp laugh that earns him a reproving glance from a passing waitress. He bites his lip, covering his mouth with his hand, only partially successful at smothering his snort. She can’t help but smile, a little embarrassed at her outburst, but still…

“No, just lots of fast food. Good, healthy, all-American diet. Almost had to get a full-time job, just keepin’ him fed and clothed. Kid grew out of shoes and jeans like nothin’ I’ve ever seen.”

There’s no mistaking the fondness in Dean’s voice, almost more paternal than brotherly. And the off-hand comment about keeping Sam clothed and fed...Kimber’s heart twinges, but she carefully keeps her face as relaxed and amused as she can.

“Ready to go?” she asks. He nods and stands, lifting the check from the table to take up to the register. He offers her a hand, an inviting smile curling one corner of his mouth, and she does her best to smother the butterflies in her stomach as her fingers slide into his.

…

“I promised Sam I’d go to opening night,” Dean said, something like an apology in his voice. “He’s only working tech, but he’s really excited. It’s been a while since we’ve stayed anywhere long enough that he could get involved like this.”

Kimber squeezed his fingers, pulling her coat closed with her other hand. The temperature had dropped over the last few days, and the evening was brisk as they walked hand-in-hand to the high school.

“Dean, are you kidding? You’re taking me to a play, dinner, and meeting your family all at once. Three birds with one date!” She skipped a little, swinging his hand with hers, flashing him her most exaggerated grin as she let her eyes go wide and kooky. He snorted, glancing away to hide his smile.

He stopped suddenly, tugging gently until she stepped closer, her expression relaxing. His knuckles slid gently down her cheekbone and under her jaw, lifting her chin. He kissed her, a sweet, chaste brush of his lips over hers that sent her pulse dancing. Her cheeks warmed under his attention, and he pressed his lips a fraction more firmly against hers before straightening.

His eyes sparkled in the light from the streetlamp overhead. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” 

She popped up on her tiptoes to kiss him again, marveling at her own bravery as her hands clasped the sides of his face, locking him in place. Before he could recover, she grabbed his hand, tugging him into a run down the sidewalk, and they arrived at the school, breathless and laughing. 

The performance of Oklahoma! was pretty standard for high school. Simple dance sequences, fair to decent singing (for the most part), and about forty minutes longer than Kimber preferred. They waited afterwards for Sam to make his way from the lighting board, and he shyly offered his hand to Kimber, who accepted, smiling and squeezing his fingers just a little.

The three of them arrived at the diner, relieved to see most families were celebrating at the more expensive restaurants across town. Sam looked over the menu, his eyes as hungry as the growl that escaped his stomach. Kimber didn’t miss the sad look he shot Dean before closing the menu and setting it down. 

When he ordered an ice water and peanut butter sandwich, Kimber’s heart cracked. 

“Sam, it’s my treat tonight. You did a great job; Mrs. Hasker never lets eighth graders work the soundboard, so go nuts. Order whatever you want. It’s your night.” 

Sam, eyes wide with hope, glanced at Dean, who looked torn between shame and relief. Dean cleared his throat, shot a grateful smile at Kimber, then nodded at Sam. 

“You did good, kid. Go for it.”

Sam’s face brightened, and Kimber couldn’t help but mirror his expression as he ordered a strawberry milkshake, double cheeseburger, and cheese fries. Kimber discreetly jabbed Dean in his ribs, and he side-glared at her, suppressing what was very definitely not a manly squeak of surprise. 

“You, too, big brother,” she said, her eyes narrowing pointedly. His lips thinned, his expression pinched. She knew she was hitting a nerve for him; it was fine to accept dinner invitations at home, and fine for her to treat his little brother, but paying for him on a date was an entirely different matter. He visibly wrestled with the simple decision, frustration and pride warring with want.

She softened her expression, placing her hand over his clenched fist. “Please?” She mouthed. “It’s okay.” He glanced at Sam, who was happily chatting with the smiling waitress about the performance, and a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of Dean’s face. 

“Double-bacon cheeseburger, and chili fries, please.”

Dinner with the Winchester boys was a delight that Kimber never forgot. Though Dean teased his younger brother mercilessly, liberally sprinkling descriptors like “geek” and “nerd” in his comments, she saw the way his eyes would linger on Sam as the younger boy inhaled his meal between answering questions about his classes and the performance.

“Are you going to take AP classes, Sam?” Kimber asked. He seemed so keen and motivated, she couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t want to.

“I want to, but we move so much, I don’t think I could keep up with the curriculum,” he admitted, his expression falling. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Kimber lowered her voice conspiratorially. Sam leaned a little closer, intrigued, and she smiled at his eagerness. It was like looking at a mirror of herself just a few years ago.

“Most AP classes follow the same guidelines across the country, almost week by week. Mr. Schaeffer is the AP coordinator at our school, and he’s pretty cool for a teacher. If you talk to him, explain your situation, I’ll bet he could get you copies of most of the AP curriculum, maybe even some spare textbooks, so you could keep up with it as you guys move around.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Dean for confirmation. Dean shrugged, affecting disinterest as he leaned back to drape an arm around Kimber’s shoulder. 

“I dunno, Sammy,” Dean drawled, “but Kimber’s the top of our class, so she’s probably got some idea what she’s talking about.” He let out an exaggerated huff of air as Kimber’s elbow connected with his side, doubling over as he pretended to fall out of the booth. 

Sam peppered Kimber and Dean with questions about their classes for the rest of the night and didn’t even have to be convinced to have an extra large slice of celebratory pie to finish the meal off.

The three of them stayed late enough at the diner that Kimber was obliged to call her parents on the pay phone in the corner to assure them that she had not, in fact, been kidnapped and left in a ditch on the side of the road. The temperature had dropped considerably, so when Kimber’s mother offered to give all three of them a ride home, Kimber accepted without thinking.

“My mom will be here in about ten minutes,” she announced as she slid back into the booth. “She’s going to give you two a lift back to the motel on our way home.”

Dean’s expression fell sharply, and Kimber’s heart sank. 

“You didn’t-”

“Thanks!” Sam said, unintentionally speaking over Dean. “It got so cold out all of a sudden. Say, do you think I should talk to Mr. Schaeffer tomorrow?”

“The sooner the better,” she said, shrugging on her coat. Sam nodded, slurping down the last of his drink and loping off to the bathroom. She glanced over at Dean, who was sitting stone-faced, a muscle twinging above his jaw.

“I didn’t mean to...I mean, I should have asked, Dean. I’m sorry.”

Dean’s eyes closed, his jaw clenching as his lips pinched tight. Kimber waited, feeling the sting of tears prick at the back of her eyes. She’d crossed some unspoken line between them, and she didn’t know what to do to fix the moment. It had been such a good night, up til then.

“I...I’m not mad...at you,” Dean finally ground out. “Just...just gimme a second.”

He scrubbed his face with both hands, then glanced back towards the bathroom before speaking. He kept his eyes on the table-top, his hands clenching and unclenching on the cheap formica.

“I’m not...used to accepting hand-outs. I can take care of Sam, Kimber, I don’t need...you didn’t...you didn’t have to.”

She opened her mouth, fully ready to defend herself, but he held up a hand. 

“I know. I know what you’re going to say. I get that it’s not a hand-out. I know you don’t...I know you aren’t lookin’ down at us. I’m not used to…”

He cleared his throat, then reached out to her, his eyes still firmly on the table-top. When he spoke, his voice was low and thick, his words measured. 

“I promise, I’m not mad at you. Can we leave it at that for now?” He turned pleading eyes in her direction, his hand palm-up on the table. Her fingers were in his before she realized she’d moved. Mouth too dry to speak, she nodded and allowed herself to be pulled up from the booth.

Sam came barreling back from the restroom then, saving them from further awkward conversation, and they bundled up against the chill. By the time Kimber’s mother arrived, Dean had relaxed enough to greet Mrs. Harper pleasantly, and when they reached the motel, he leaned up to kiss Kimber’s cheek before climbing out of the backseat with Sam in tow.

The next day at school, Dean was a little distracted, almost distant. He walked her home that afternoon in almost complete silence. They were a block from her house when she couldn’t take the tension anymore. She stopped short, biting her lip as tears stung her eyes. To her shame, her throat started to clench, choking any attempt at words. 

Dean looked back at her, concern and confusion clear on his face at her sudden stop. 

She swiped the heel of her hand across her cheeks, avoiding his gaze. “I’m sorry about last night,” she managed, less coherently than she would have liked. “I didn’t mean to...I didn’t...I’m sorry I ruined the evening.”

Dean was in front of her in an instant, thumbs wiping the tears from her face, lips pressed fiercely against her forehead. 

“No, sweetheart.” His tone was rough and resolute. “I told you I’m not mad at you. Last night was...Last night was wonderful. I haven't seen Sam that happy in a long time. It’s been a rough few months. Sam and Dad have started fighting. Dad expects a lot from him, but not the usual good grades kind of ‘a lot.’ And when Dad pushes, Sam pushes back, and I…”

He dropped his forehead to hers, and Kimber pulled in a shaking breath.

“I didn’t want to drag you into our mess. You are perfect, and Sam and I both had a great time last night. Thank you. For dinner. For making Sam so happy. For everything.” He pulled back a few inches, catching her gaze. “Please don’t apologize again.”

She nodded, unable to answer aloud. He searched her eyes until he was satisfied, then nodded.

“ ‘M gonna kiss you now, so Imma need you to hold back on the tears for a minute. People will think I’m a terrible kisser if you cry through the whole thing.”

She laughed, and he caught her off guard, pressing his lips to hers before deepening the kiss. His fingers slid into her hair, tilting her head until he found an angle to please them both. His tongue swept, feather-light, across her lower lip, and she melted.

They came back to Earth a few moments later, jolted from their universe by enthusiastic honking and shouting from a passing car full of guys from one of their classes. Kimber hid her blazing face against Dean’s neck as he nodded, grinning and waving at the other boys.

Instead of pulling away, Kimber linked her arms around his neck, shivering against a biting breeze that swept past. Dean’s arms constricted, pulling her close enough that she felt his heartbeat against her chest.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Dean whispered, his words nearly lost in the breeze. Then he pulled away, linked his fingers through hers, and walked her home. He kissed her once more on her doorstep, holding her face between his warm, calloused palms, eyes closed. 

He rested his forehead against hers briefly before stepping back. He tried to deliver that smooth, carefree grin from their first study session and failed miserably.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said. Then he turned, flipping up the collar of his jacket, and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he headed down the walkway. She watched him go, wanting nothing more than to run after him. The set of his shoulders, the tense bend of his neck, told her to hold her ground, though. 

Something else was eating at Dean, and she knew him well enough to know that needling him wouldn’t get him to open up. He needed space and understanding, and she would just have to sit on her frustration. He asked for so very little, the least she could do was give him some time to work through whatever was going on. She just hoped it wouldn’t take too much time for him to open up. She hated seeing him so distant and miserable. 

When Dean finally turned up that evening, he was thirty minutes late for dinner. His father glowered at the pair of them from the driver’s seat of a sleek, black muscle car, while Sam slumped, miserable, in the back. Kimber realized with cold, painful clarity that they had, in fact, no time left at all.

…

Chapter 6