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Ten Summers Ago - 15/? | poppyalex fanfiction

A/N: spicy, spicy, spicy.

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Chapter 15 -

Poppy eats her meal like a normal person, and even, dare I say, slower than a normal person. Not me. I race through mine. Almost choke a couple times, which has her nudging my water closer to me. I down more than I need to, and our waiter brings me back two additional waters during our time there.

It’s a little embarrassing, but I don’t care. If Poppy needed any more evidence to see how badly I want her, she’s got it now.

I raise my hand to pay the bill the second Poppy sets down her fork and sips at her remaining drink, and we’re out of there in under two minutes flat.

Our waiter doesn’t say anything as we leave other than have a nice day, but it’s fine because we’re racing across the street to our hotel room, and all we can think about is each other.

Poppy’s fingers are trembling as she digs out the hotel key and tries to shove it into the socket above the doorknob. Eventually I take it from her and do the deed myself, try slowing my thudding heartbeat enough to do the small act that will have a hallelujah chorus thrumming through my veins.

The door is open at last, and I push it closed after we stumble inside, gathering Poppy into my arms in a rush and swallowing her gasp with a passionate kiss and a moan I’ve been keeping under lock and key ever since we left the park.

Poppy’s knees buckle a little, so I tighten my grip on her and keep her standing as we continue to make out, our tangling tongues and wandering hands enough to set us ablaze.

At last, Poppy seems to have gotten some control over her legs, and she’s walking backwards towards her bed.

She’s got her fingers under my shirt, and is lifting it over my head, breaking apart from kissing me and coming to a halt so she can spread her hands across my chest like it’s a goldmine only she has discovered.

“Alex.”

“Touch me,” I request, even though her hands are already flat on my skin and eagerly exploring. “Touch me anywhere, anywhere you want.”

Her eyes flit up to mine, and she lifts her shirt up and over her head and lets it fall to the ground. She unhooks her flimsy little bra and lets that fall too. I want to devour her, but I wait till she gives me permission. I remind myself that even though I sucked those beautiful mounds barely an hour ago, now we’re really doing things. Now I’ll get to see more of her, and she might want to take this part slow.

“Can I…?”

She takes my hands in her own and through her trembling lays them on her bare breasts, swallowing hard.

“You’re nervous,” I say, and she nods, looks up at me with hesitation. “Me too.”

And she relaxes.

“Where else can I touch you?” I ask, and she doesn’t answer right away, just pulls me to her and kisses me, continues moving back until the back of her knees hit the bed, and we fall back.

“Everywhere,” she breathes, taking one of my hands and putting it between her legs.

I groan, completely folding. She’ll be my undoing, and I don’t even care. I relish what’s about to happen. I’m horny, but I’m also so totally in love with her. My mind isn’t anywhere else, thinking about anyone else. Everything is Poppy Poppy Poppy. What else could it be?

I slip my hand beneath her shorts, beneath her panties, and very, very lightly scrape my rough hand over her wetness, her warmth. She’s soaked, and it takes a lot to restrain me, but my eyes are on her now, and her eyes are on my hand with some trepidation.

“Is this okay?”

“No.” She pouts, and it’s adorable, but I’m concerned.

“No?”

She slides her hand down my arm, making me shiver, and over my hand in her panties. She guides two of my fingers deeper into her wetness, directs them towards her clit, and then she shivers, and her head feels back.

“Fuck me.”

I can’t tell which of us she’s talking to, but I’m overwhelmed by how wet she is, but I know now what she wants, and she retracts her hand, clutching at my arm as I move my fingers around her clit in a circular motion until she’s bucking up against me and digging her nails into my arm.

“Fuck.”

I pull my hand free when she’s very, very close, and she yelps and nearly completely sits up.

“Why’d you stop?” she pants, and I have to lean forward to tug on her very erect nipples with my teeth before kissing each.

“I want to taste you,” I say.

Her eyes go wide.

“Oh.”

I lift up her legs, one at a time kissing her calf, then her knee, then her ankle. Her shoes and socks come off easily and plop onto the floor with a thud.

Then, gently, slowly, I pull down her hiking shorts and panties, so now she’s completely naked before me. I kiss her hip bone, then her outer thigh, her inner thigh until she gasps. I lick a long line on her leg approaching her innermost parts and then blow on it.

“Alex.”

I look up as some of my locks fall over my forehead. Her hand is in my hair, urging me closer.

“You ready?”

She gulps, but she’s also nodding. She’s ready.

I grunt and then spread her legs as far as they’ll go, making room for myself. I extend my tongue, seeking out the nub that my fingers recently sensitized.

It takes no time at all, and soon she’s squirming beneath me, and I have to hold her steady as I drink her juices, as I swirl my tongue inside her.

She’s whispering my name breathily, and it’s about all I can take to stay focused. Her nails dig into my scalp, and it sends a delicious chill down my spine.

“Poppy,” I murmur into her, and she clutches at her breasts, pushing her head further back into the pillow she’s found.

“Oh, god,” she exclaims, and I couldn’t agree more.

Her calves reach to wrap around me, and I struggle to keep her legs apart as my tongue continues more incessantly. She’s writhing around me now, and it’s so damn sexy. I wrap one hand around one of her thighs and the other I release to lift my dripping lips, so I can pump her with two of my fingers.

“Ah-ah-ah!” she cries, and her eyes roll back as I lift my head. “B-both,” she requests, and I groan at how insatiable she is.

I lower my head and find her clit again with my tongue. Wrapping it around her nub and circling around rapidly, I continue with my fingers. It takes only seconds for her to tense up and clutch at me again.

“Ohhh,” and she jerks up, but I keep going until the ripples have subsided, which, I decide, last much longer than when she was trying to get off earlier that morning.

She sinks back down slowly and breathes out, pleased.

“How was that?” I ask, licking my lips.

“Incredible,” she says, and her eyes, filled with stars, tell me she means it.

I stand up on shaky legs and kick off my shoes, pull my socks off and start to turn away.

“W-wait,” she calls out, and I stop. I’ve already decided I’m not going to try to persuade her to do the dry humping thing. She wanted to get eaten out, and I delivered. I won’t push for more than that.

“What about you?” she asks, and she’s so sexy propped up on the bed, completely nude, her pussy still dripping, her nipples still erect, it’s incredibly hard for me to not just cum on the spot.

It takes me a few moments of licking my lips to find my voice again.

“You said you didn’t want to…” I trail off, letting her finish the thought in her head.

“Well, that’s true,” she allows. “But there has to be more than…two ways to get you off. I’m sure you’d rather have me than another cold shower.”

I give a raspy laugh that I can tell turns her on.

You have no idea.

“There is…something,” I manage, and she actually lights up. I bend down and toss her panties back at her. She frowns at first, and it’s literally killing me that she thought she could do this part with her underwear off.

“Ever heard of dry humping?”

My voice is so raspy now I wonder if she can make out what I’m saying.

She must though because I can see her eyes light up again.

“How would that work?” she asks, slipping back into her underwear, and I take a deep breath, shoving my shorts down and making my erection obvious.

I adjust my cock so it’s straight up under my underwear and the tip is just barely visible above the waistband.

“Kind of what it sounds like,” I say. “I grind myself against you…down there, so the friction gets me off, but I’m not inside you technically, so it shouldn’t hurt you.”

She licks her lips, and her eyes stay on the tip of my cock for a long time.

“O-Okay.”

“You sure?” I hold my breath. This is her last chance to back out.

She nods.

“Yes. I want to get you off too.” She pauses, and a slow smirk that makes me weak in the knees spreads across her face. “Besides, I want to feel you.”

I gulp.

“Okay.”

My knee hits the bed, and she adjusts herself so her body is more centered. Then she spreads her legs of her own volition and reaches for me. I groan and come to her, kissing her soundly on the lips and down her neck, sucking on her breasts before returning to her lips.

Then I align my hips with hers, settling my covered cock right in her center, and she gasps.

I pause and look at her face, searching for any sign of discomfort.

“I’m okay.” She nods. “Promise.”

She slides her hands over my waist and around my back, urging me closer. And then her hands are sliding beneath my boxers and settling on my ass, squeezing those cheeks, and I groan, trembling.

“Poppy.” I breathe shakily. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“I’m learning,” she says slyly, and I laugh huskily.

“C’mon,” she encourages, and I nod.

“Okay.”

Putting more pressure on her pussy, I start to grind against her.

At first my hands have me propped up, hovering over her, but the feel of her body is incredible, and I fall down to my elbows, my face in her neck, whispering her name over and over.

She says my name too, digs her fingers into my ass so my boxers are falling down on the backside. Her nails making contact with my sensitive skin sends shivers ricocheting across my entire body, and I move faster.

The friction is incredible, and I’m groaning and moaning, whispering her name like a prayer.

She’s moaning and crying too, and it doesn’t take us long at all to cum undone.

“Ah-ah-ahhh!” We come together, and I collapse on top of each other, feeling the warmth of my semen soaking onto our bellies.

“What is that?” she asks without separating from me.

“That is what would get you pregnant if it was inside you,” I say.

There’s a pause then, and I wonder if she’s turning red.

“Oh.”

I chuckle and slowly sit up, wincing regretfully when I see more of it stuck to her than to me.

“Come on. We should shower.”

“Okay,” she says, shimmying out of her underwear again. I do the same. On our way to the bathroom, she stuns me by saying, “I wonder what it tastes like.”

I stop and give her a look. She could not turn me on more if she tried.

“What?” she frowns.

“I’ll start eating pineapple,” I say, opening the shower door for her to step inside. We’re showering together. It’s unspoken at this point, I think.

“Why pineapple?” she asks, turning around as I turn on the shower, and she yelps when it’s cold for a few seconds.

“Sorry,” I say apologetically before stepping into the shower to take the brunt of the chill until it warms.

“So you don’t make a face if you decide to give it a taste,” I answer her question.

She looks at me mortified, and I have to laugh painfully.

“Yeah, that face.”

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NEW: Tom on instagram for his btk s3 photo dump

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Ten Summers Ago - 14/? | poppyalex fanfiction

A/N: This wasn't planned for today, but I wanted to write something today, and this fic is so easy for me to update so that's what happened. Hope my poppyalexes can enjoy.

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Chapter 14 -

I can’t remember ever being this horny in my entire life.

To be fair, my high school experience was pretty humiliating, and that included anything having to do with boys. My college experience thus far has been more focused on getting to know the girls in my dorm and what I want to do with my life, and this last year, Alex. I don’t think I had a single crush on any guy I found myself in close proximity to, even at parties. In fact, sometimes I think the guys I ended up making out with I only did because it felt like something I had to do. I must’ve been attracted to them to some extent, but not like with Alex. Everything is different with Alex.

It's wild to me now that before this trip I only ever envisioned sex with Alex being a one-time thing and to never be discussed again ever after that. I don’t know what the future holds for us after this week, but if sex with Alex does happen, I can’t imagine it only happening once. After I get past that first time with him and whatever un-comfortability comes with it, I can’t imagine not wanting to repeating the experience.

Not if this insane feeling of horniness ever goes away after the act itself. And we’re so close to doing something that I’m actually shaking with everything leading up to it. It’s so crazy. I’ve never felt this way with anyone.

And I know Alex feels the same.

How we’re going to behave like adults in a restaurant for the next half hour is beyond me.

Hopefully the food is brought to our table fast. Though I’ll have to remind myself not to inhale it too quickly, lest I choke. Then the waiter, which – oh, god, what if we have the same one? Well, he’ll think something’s up for sure. Especially when I don’t act the same around him as I did last time – the blatant flirting and all. I can’t even remember his name now? Bob, maybe? No, there can’t be any Bobs around here. Nobody names their kids ‘Bob’ in Canada.

Besides to me, in this moment, there is only Alex.

At any rate, we get out of our car and walk together towards the restaurant.

I’m not strutting ahead of him, and he’s not dragging behind. Our fingers brush when we near the building, and heat rushes through me. It intensifies when Alex opens the door for me and guides me through the doorway with his hand on the small of my back.

This does feel like a first date.

We smile briefly at each other after we get inside and then both our faces drop when we see the amused expression on our same waiter from the night before.

“Table for two?” he asks innocently, and I nod while Alex interjects.

“Could we get a booth in the back maybe? We’re looking for a little privacy.”

“Alex,” I seethe. “We’re not gonna-” I pause as I sense both men looking at me with raised brows. “Play chess until later.”

Our waiter hides a wide grin.

“No, of course not,” Alex continues. “But we can at least talk about…playing chess, right?”

My jaw drops, and his finger actually comes up to lift my chin, shutting my mouth succinctly and making me more turned on than ever.

“So,” Alex says, looking back at the waiter as I stare at him in disbelief, albeit with my mouth closed.

“I think we should be able to accommodate you, Sir,” he drawls, grabbing two menus and turning towards an empty corner in the restaurant where the blinds on the windows have been lowered.

I’m in disbelief of what’s happening, that this waiter is allowing this to happen. It’s all but a set up for Alex to grope me under the table or vice versa, and it simultaneously gives me chills and makes me feel hot all over with embarrassment and arousal.

After we’re seated, and our menus are given to us, the waiter hesitates.

“We thank you for only talking about chess and not doing it in a family restaurant,” he says, and I’m frozen. I can’t even look at either of them. I’m staring at some item on the menu, but my eyes are blurring over because I’m so mortified I don’t know what that says either.

Alex is not so bothered.

“Of course,” he says politely and then smiles, not worried at all about how our waiter connected the dots so quickly, regarding our codeword for sex.

“I’ll be right back with your waters,” our waiter says, and then he’s gone.

“Alex,” I seethe again.

And he grins, scooting closer to me so our hips are touching. The waiter had the gall to put us in one of those huge semi-circle booths used for large parties, but there’s only two of us, and the light is dim above our table. The windows are blocked. And Alex is so close to me I can hardly breathe.

“Don’t worry, Poppy,” he breathes into my hair, and then slips his hand over my shorts-covered thigh closer to him and squeezes gently. “No one’s the wiser.”

He slides his pinkie up, so it’s brushing the silky-smooth fabric over my crotch, and I start to whimper.

“Quiet,” he orders, and it’s downright delicious how he says it in a hushed tone, keeping an eye on the rest of the restaurant so we aren’t caught.

He releases me suddenly a few moments later and scoots barely an inch away. I let out a giant exhale. He’s not far away enough for me to not want to straddle him in the back of this restaurant, but it’s enough space that the waiter hopefully won’t ban us from the establishment.

“So, what brings you two back so soon?” he says, flipping out his notepad to write down our orders that we definitely don’t know what they are yet.

Alex, clearly aware that I’ve forgotten what words are, answers for both of us.

“We’re on vacation here for the week.”

“A whole week! My, my,” the waiter muses. “Well, I hope you enjoy yourselves. There’s not all that much to do out here, I’m afraid.”

“There are trails,” I manage. “We hiked one today.”

“Ah yes, those are fun.” An awkward silence follows, then, “Are you two ready to order or should I give you a few more minutes?”

“Five minutes should be enough,” Alex says, and I can’t look at either of them. I know I’m blushing beat red and can’t explain why.

Because what is five minutes enough for? Figuring out what we’re eating or something else?

The waiter leaves us again, and now Alex’s whole hand is covering the patch of fabric that has to feel damp by now. Has to. His touch is driving me insane.

“Alex,” I rasp, as he moves his fingers, seeking out that sensitive nub. It amazes me how he finds it within seconds over layers of clothing, but here we are. “I didn’t think you liked doing things like this in public.”

My hand grips the table and my teeth come down hard on my bottom lip. I’m doing everything I can to not make a sound, but it’s hard with how deftly his fingers are moving.

I can’t even imagine how much more pleasurable this would be if he slipped his hand just benea-

No, don’t go there, Poppy.

I’m barely surviving what we’re doing now! And if we get kicked out of this restaurant for indecent exposure, we’ll have to drive a long way to find someplace else for the rest of the week.

He nibbles on my earlobe.

“I guess you bring it out of me,” he says hotly, and I’m literally dying.

Then I hear a pair of footsteps and fear the worst, so I use all my force to push him off of me. He doesn’t move far, but he seems to get the picture.

A man and who appears to be his young daughter take their seats in the table across from us, and from then on out Alex behaves himself.

The waiter says nothing when he returns, not about playing or talking about chess or how our part of the restaurant suddenly got less private. But this had to have been a tactic on his part or the part on the management to get us acting more like a gentleman and a lady, and honestly, it’s kind of genius, though I don’t mention that to Alex, who’s a little grumbly at not being able to be more handsy when we’re alone.

I smile to myself and don’t explain it away. We’ll have eaten real food soon, and then retreated to our hotel room, and then – then – the real fun will begin.

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now i need a whole movie/tv show about tom as william

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tom as a hot piano tutor was not in my 2025 bingo card

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who would a pianist be without his muse?

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hands ~ veins ~ fingers ~ rings

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suddenly feeling the urge to have a piano teacher

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RACHEL ZEGLER via Instagram stories (July 2025)

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Charity, 1878, William-Adolphe Bouguereau

Size: 196x117 cm Medium: oil, canvas

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Yeah really 😂😅

I feel like he does it on purpose no wonder why so many get confused

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Going to snowbairdify this in Still a Capitol Boy, Still a District Girl eventually.

Take off your shirt.I want to look at you.

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Would You Love Me If I Was A Worm? - 1/2 | snowbaird fanfiction

A/N: A silly crack fic with some relationship angst. Part 2 coming soon.

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Synopsis: Canon Divergent - Fresh off Lucy Gray's love song, Coriolanus asks her a silly question that goes a bit too far.

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Chapter 1 -

“Would you love me if I was a worm?”

The first time hearing the question tumbled out of Coriolanus’ mouth, Lucy Gray had laughed, giggled even. It was fresh off the love song she’d sung to him the night before and fresh off a night of kissing passionately until they couldn’t breathe after the show. She was in love and had been for a while, and had bravely decided to finally proclaim it in front of a live audience, giving not so subtle clues about who she could be referring to in her lyrics to anyone who was paying attention.

The Covey knew – they’d helped her with the melody. Sejanus knew, he kept shooting his best friend looks while she sang, looks with a smile that told the whole world. And Coriolanus, her love, had been looking at her with a faint smile and stars in his eyes. It made her smile so wide up on stage that she wanted to burst and go against everything that society in District 12 demanded to announce who exactly her love was.

It was hard to get a busting smile of happiness from Coriolanus. He just wasn’t one to smile all that much, always caring so much about his appearance and how he presented himself and what people thought of him or could be thinking about him. But she’d seen a genuine smile a good handful of times, including that night in between kisses down a dimly lit alleyway. He’d smiled so big, it had felt worth it.

She hadn’t told him she loved him then, but he’d known from her song. And she hadn’t gotten the words from him either, but his blatant smile and the stars in his eyes gave it away. He loved her too.

It wasn’t until the next day when they were out by the lake, this time on their own, that he started going by the assumption that she definitely did love him, and so she jumped on that train too and went with it. (Plus, it was true.)

That’s when things got silly.

“Hey, Lucy Gray.”

“Hmm?” She turned her head to flutter her eyelashes at him as they sat beside each other in the grass.

“Would you love me if…I was a bird?”

She laughed. “Definitely a bird.”

“A mockingjay even?” he asked suspiciously.

“You know it! Those are my favorite.”

He wrinkled his nose, and she laughed again.

“What about…” he nudged her shoulder. “A snake?”

Her eyes lit up.

“Oh, yes, definitely a snake. I’d let you wrap yourself around my body and walk about town with you on my arms, so everyone could see what a pretty decoration you make.”

She chuckled, but it was strained – a bit of a callback to the pain of not being able to be public with each other.

So, he switched his tune…and promptly got stuck there.

“Would you love me if I was a worm?” He lowered his voice, putting some extra oomph into worm to see if he could get her squeamish.

Unaffected by his sound effects, she flipped some of her hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Coriolanus, I’d love you if you were a worm. I’d put you on my finger and carry you around with me, letting you see all the sights and hear all the sounds you wouldn’t see or hear if you were digging around in the ground below the surface.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, and for some reason that mildly irritated her.

“Yes.”

Then she stood to her feet, shimmied out of her dress and ran off the dock into the lake. Coriolanus followed suit, and they spent the rest of the day wrapped in each other and away from silly questions about love and birds and snakes and worms.

But that wasn’t the end of it.

Coriolanus found a way to get notes to her throughout the week. The first one excited Lucy Gray to no end. She anticipated what he could say to her that was hopefully very romantic given his excessive schooling in the Capitol and what she assumed were his deep feelings for her. But she was let down, as she supposed she should’ve expected when only one line appeared on the folded note.

Would you love me if I was a worm?

-C

It was Sejanus who was the messenger. And he stood there awkwardly, waiting for her to reply with something. So, irritated as she was, she wrote the word Yes on a blank sheet of paper and folded it up. Then he left.

It happened again and again and again that week. It was obvious Sejanus knew what was being exchanged too, because he’d become very reluctant to give it to her. Maybe he was being hounded to definitely make sure she received it and got a response in return though, because he came every night that week to the point that they exchanged notes at the same time, and Lucy Gray stopped reading them, because she knew what they were going to say.

What was wrong with him? Could he not move on to other things? Could he not just say the words himself?

Lucy Gray didn’t know, and she had no way to properly have it out with him till the end of the week, so she put her frustration into her music and wrote some tunes that would have her belting out at the top of her lungs and putting her all into her guitar, so maybe she wouldn’t even have to look at the crowd very much at all, maybe she wouldn’t have to see him period, and maybe then she’d really see what she felt about him asking that dumbass question time and time again.

He waited for her after the show that evening, but she didn’t come out to see him. Put a gallant smile for the rest of the audience, then packed up her things with the Covey and headed home.

That, she thought, should really give him idea of where he stood.

He came to see her in the meadow that very next day, and she thought maybe – just maybe – it was to apologize and explain himself. But the first words out of this ridiculous boy’s mouth were…

“Lucy Gray, would you love me if I was a worm?”

And she lost it.

She didn’t pay attention to the heavy sigh after her name, the nervous shifting of his feet, or the intonation of a few of the words in his question. She just heard the same words again and again and again, and she shot up, infuriated. She had to fight not to shove her guitar right on the ground as she stood. It was her precious instrument and didn’t deserve such vile treatment.

Coriolanus? Not so much. Not in this moment.

“You know what, Coriolanus?” she said, agitated to the fullest and glad he looked as taken aback as he was. “No. I would not love you if you were a worm. Worms are dirty and slimy and gross, and-and easy to stomp on, and maybe I would stomp on you, so I could find someone else who was human!”

She huffed, and she puffed, and she clutched at the handle of her guitar, lifting it up and stalking off before he had anything to say in return.

They didn’t spend the weekend together.

And the following week he didn’t go to her show, and neither did Sejanus.

And that night Lucy Gray cried herself to sleep.

She missed her weird boyfriend, and she just wanted an explanation. She didn’t want to have to apologize when it was him who’d driven her crazy in just a few short days.

But her heart ached for him, and her body ached for him, and so she cried because she didn’t know what else to do.

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the prettiest a man has ever looked

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tall and handsome