#cloud computing quiz answers

[rashmislearningplanet]

Class 6 : Cyber Olympiad Quiz | PART - 1 | 24 Important Questions | Oswaal Books | Computer Quiz

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

KitKat - A Pedrotober Drabble

Day Six of Pedrotober: Dieter Pedrotober hosted by @norththelemon and @alyssamariag. View the full prompt list HERE and view my entire Pedrotober drabble catalog HERE.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Rating: G for Goodness gracious now I want a KitKat. There is a brief mention of rehab.

Word Count: 1722

a/n: I struggled so hard for so long with what to do for today and then at 11:28PM I was reading and one line in my book somehow turned into this. I truthfully find Dieter incredibly difficult to write because I struggle to fit his plot into context for any fic I attempt, but this is my little version of our favorite trash panda.

Fifteen Years Ago

"Okay, is it more meaningful to you when someone you love puts their arm around you in public or when someone you love surprises you with a gift?"

"I can't believe you're even asking me that," Dieter scoffs from his place on your dorm room floor. You're half hanging off the side of your bed, laptop balanced precariously as you click through the questionnaire. Without any further hesitation, you click someone I love puts their arm around me in public and move down to the next question.

It started when your best friend knocked on your door at nearly two in the morning. His arrival on your doorstep, barefoot with a bottle of wine, was more routine than anything, and always signaled another tragic tale of love. Tonight was no different. Jasper had apparently ditched your best friend in favor of making out with a freshman at the club they frequented. Why, you could never comprehend. Not when Dieter was right there. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"He told me that I could never understand how to love him. That our love languages aren't compatible." Confusion must have been written into your expression because he continued to answer the question that never left your lips. "Don't ask me what that means because I have no fucking clue."

You'd watched as he grabbed a KitKat from his bag, breaking off a stick to hand to you, but the alcohol clouding your brain had you thinking. "I wonder what my love language is?"

Dieter snorted. "Maybe Jasper would've found you more compatible."

"I don't date actors," you'd fired back, already reaching for your laptop and booting it up. "Maybe I can kick him out of the fall play, though," you pondered as you navigated to an online quiz boasting the ability to determine exactly how you desire to be loved.

"What about this one?" you read off the next question. "Is it more meaningful when you get the chance to 'hang out' with someone you love or when you unexpectedly get small gifts from someone you love?"

"Hanging out, for sure," Dieter responds, uninterested, and you click his answer while mentally responding the opposite. The process continues through the remainder of the thirty questions, you reading off the options and the man lounging on your floor giving you his answers.

"Physical touch," you tell him when the results pop up on your screen. "It says you long for hand-holding and hugs." You say it mostly to goad him, but you can also easily see the truth of it. The paragraph you skim through perfectly describes him.

"I long for a lot more than hugs," he retorts, shifting onto his side. "And with how Jasper was acting tonight I would've guessed that he does too." He pauses for a moment as you tap away on your computer. "You're checking to see what it says for you now, aren't you?"

You catch his gaze out of the corner of your eye and resist the urge to throw a pillow at him. "There's no harm in finding out what it says," you point out, clicking quickly through the questions you've already read once. You're quiet once you finish, sitting up and crossing your legs beneath you as you read the information more carefully.

"What does it say?" Dieter asks as he shifts from his position on the carpet to slide into your tiny dorm room bed next to you, reading the screen from behind your shoulder.

"Receiving gifts," you note. "Apparently the perfect gift makes me feel like I'm prized above whatever was sacrificed to bring the gift to me." It makes sense, the more you think about it. You regularly spend extra time carefully picking out the perfect gift for others, and you were never more excited than on Christmas morning.

The man behind you hums. "It fits, but I still think it's a load of bullshit," he returns before guiding you to shut your laptop. He sets it to the side, lazily sprawling out on your bed as he wraps an arm around your waist to drag you against him.

"Says the man currently attaching himself to me like a baby koala."

"You love it, KitKat," he breathes your nickname sleepily against your neck.

He was right about one thing.

Present Day

The reality that you haven't heard from Dieter in years has done nothing to dull his presence in your mind. You'd gone your separate ways after college, Dieter to LA, eager to jumpstart his acting career. You remained in New York, intent on seeing one of your plays through to Broadway, but in the early days you mostly worked at a diner downtown. When you weren't working, you were writing, sitting at your laptop until well after midnight, typing away in hope that something would stick.

He tried to convince you to join him. He would send you pictures of massive film sets and regale you with tales of Hollywood stars, but you always declined his offer. It was important to you, you explained, to finish what you'd started.

Plus, he was a rising celebrity and you were a failed playwright. The distance you forced between you was the only thing preventing you from dulling his shine. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Then the calls became less frequent. He stopped trying to persuade you. While he flew to London and Hong Kong and Paris, you stayed where you were. If you were lucky, you'd grab coffee or lunch during one of his layovers in New York, but more often than not he was there and gone before you could even try to contact him.

When you started seeing his face in magazines at the store, blasting headlines about his casting in upcoming films, you'd call to congratulate him, only to be forwarded to his assistant instead. Texts would go unanswered, and you started to wonder if you'd made the whole thing up.

So instead of allowing your emotions to consume you, you threw yourself into writing. Tried to get him out of your head and onto the paper in a way that you'd suppressed all this time. You called out of work, ate nothing but ramen, and worked at all hours until you were printing the draft and sending it to the only agent you'd convinced to read it.

And then your life spun out of control.

Your agent thought your play was good, really good, and within months you found yourself watching your reality play out on stage. A producer had seen the value in your story, in the way the leads danced around each other like they'd be together until they weren't. Two lost souls meant not to find each other, but to lose each other instead.

Meanwhile, Dieter was in rehab. You knew it from the clickbait that popped up on your feed each morning. Suggestions of what might be interesting to you constantly thrust his fall from grace into your stream of consciousness. You wondered if this was how it had felt for him. The whiplash of being at the bottom one day and the top the next before careening back again. It made you uneasy, the way you continuously waited for the other shoe to drop.

Then, a KitKat.

You furrowed your brow as your stage manager appeared in front of you with the candy bar, neatly wrapped in a bow. When you asked where it had come from, who it had come from, she shrugged. "I was just told to bring it to you."

There was no shortage of gifts stacked up in the little studio you still called home, but as you stood in the wings of the theater, holding the chocolate, you felt in a way you hadn't in years. You studied it, harder than you probably should have, your fingers tracing across the plastic in search of some kind of hidden message, because after all this time, after everything you'd convinced yourself of, there was only one person who could have sent this to you.

"That's your love language."

His voice is a shock, one that causes you to spin around violently to rest your eyes on his figure, hidden partially by the shadows of the curtain. How he's here you can only guess, but you suppose that it isn't that hard for a Hollywood star to sneak backstage on Broadway. You remain silent as you watch him take a few steps closer. "Gift giving," he continues. "Do you remember what mine is?"

"Your what?" you ask, completely blinded by his presence.

"My love language," he shrugs, as though nothing has happened. Like you're still just two college kids in a dorm room taking a quiz about how you want to be loved.

"Well, it isn't quality time," you quip with a small smile, your brain finally catching up with the realization that he's here in front of you. That this isn't just some dream.

The corners of Dieter's lips angle upward. "No, but I am sorry that I've missed out on a lot of that." His arms flinch as though they itch to wrap around you the way they used to, but he holds himself back. "I'm sorry for all of it, actually."

You tilt your head, "for what?"

"For leaving you behind. For giving up on you when you never gave up on me." He pauses, more contemplative than you've ever seen him. "For giving up on myself."

His words hit you, stirring your emotions as the cast begins to hit the stage, swirling around you both as they find their places for the start of the show. The one you'd written for him. "How do you know I didn't?" you ask quietly.

Dieter nods at the KitKat in your hands, melting under your touch as he takes a step toward you. "Someone kept sending those to me. You wouldn't happen to know why?"

You do, but you shake your head regardless. Your gaze flickers down to his lips and then back up to his eyes, a silent signal that you do remember how he wants to be loved. "Did it matter?"

He finally leans in, closing the distance between you, leaving no question as to how he desires to love you. "You always did."

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

Watching Star Trek: Strange New Worlds season 2, episode 10, Hegemony

I believe this is the s2 finale, so let's go!

I love how they mentioned the singing from the last episode 😂

Why am I kinda shipping Batel and Chapel

I feel like Captain Batel is gonna die

HOLY SHIT

IT'S THE GLOW CLOUD

Or the Gorn

Oh shit, Batel's ship blew up 👀

Chris doesn't have much luck when it comes to romance, it seems

Nitrogen bombs + Gorn = Gorn Popsicles

Erica is a genius😂

Quite the memorable first landing party for her to take part in😂

The fact Spock plans to add zombie movies to his research is so funny to me😂

Also, the fact that he's seen movies, makes me think (or hope) he and his mama watched Alice In Wonderland because he loved the book

I love how everyone (especially Pike) felt sick after Erica's driving/diving

If anything happens to her, I'm gonna be very grumpy

Aw man, Spock is so upset that he doesn't know what happened to Chapel

"Sickbay is gone" CHILLS LITERAL CHILLS

Spock ^

Wow, the planet really turned into a Wasteland 👀

Awwww the baby Gorn is kinda cute!

This is why I would never survive a zombie/Gorn apocalypse/invasion

Ooof, cannibalism

PELIA MY BELOVED

^ I love her in case it wasn't obvious

The way Pelia turned to Uhura like what did you figure out then turned away like ugh don't waste my time(when Uhura mentioned she needs an engineers help) then turn around when Uhura said she had a crazy theory 😂

I feel like Pelia and Raffi would get along famously

SCOTTY

HELL YEAH

Scotty: "That's a lot of lieutenants."

Erica: "There'll be a quiz."

BATEL IS STILL ALIVE

WOO

I love Scotty 😂

I love how Scotty is so crafty and resourceful

Pelia to Una: "And if you had answered like that in my class I would've given you an A+"

Una: -_-

I love how Batel knew exactly what Pike was up to when he thought she was sleeping

Pike and Batel: * having a slightly emotional conversation about not going alone to look for stuff/Pike trying to save everyone, ending with them looking flirtatiously at each other in silence*

Scotty, lurking behind Batel: "You're never gonna be able to retrieve the device without my help"

Batel and Pike: °_°

Scotty: "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. Not my fault you decided to have a secret conversation right in front of my sleeping spot."😂

CHRISTINE!!!!!!

The fact that it's Majel Barrett(I think) doing the voice for the computer while this Chapel is plugging things into the computer makes me so happy

Chapel: *banging on glass trying to get Spock's attention*

Spock: *casually floats by not noticing*

Damn, Batel's got a strong stomach I would've gotten sick being that close to that Gorn

IS BETAL GORN OR SOMETHING AND THAT'S WHY IT LEFT HER ALONE

OH SHIT

SPOCK SAW THE REFLECTION OF THE GORN

Uh oh, it took his gun

Whoa, the Gorn was also wearing a space suit, cool

Oh no, did Marie get Gorn eggs planted in her and that's why it left👀

OH SHIT SHE DID

Batel this episode ^

That's why she was so upset Chris came for her😭😭

I love that Scotty interrupted them 😂

Ooooooo Pelia is required in sickbay

PELIA KNOWS SCOTTY?!She cringed when Pike said his name😂Pelia: "One of my best students who sadly received some of my worst grades."

Pike: "Well, I'll leave you to it" *speed walks away*😂

Pelia, shaking her head looking at the jumble in Scotty's arms: "What the hell is this supposed to be?!"

Scotty in a voice similar to a child whining to their parent: "Something that could help us hide from the Gorn."

Pelia: "Oh"

Scotty: "If we can fix it."

Batel to Chapel: "I'll need you to take me out." Okay, it's a date then😁🤗

Wait the Gorn still have their people? I thought they rescued the surviving Starfleet officers?🤔

Idk it brings me such joy to see Pelia helping carry Scotty's project in the halls as things blow up, but it does

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? IT'S A CLIFFHANGER?!!!!

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

This is fine.

[hashiiiiisuniverse8]

Hello mga ka sheesh, my co- pre-service teachers and Pauliniatics. This is your newbie blogger Stephan Hashley Javier, 19 years old and not ready to be an adult huhu! I am currently taking a Bachelor of Secondary Education major in Science, and I believe that cram is the best way to finish your activities!

Come along with me and my journey in TTL promising you that this blog is full of sheshableness! :>

THESE ARE MY ANSWER IN OUR FIRST QUIZ IN TTL 1 UNDER MR. MARK FRANCIS ASTOM.

In this blog I will be tackling the different facets in Ict, and will be able to give real life scenarios in each of them. Sit back and read.

Before you start, here is some ice cream, to be more relaxed while reading. <3

____________________

Cloud Computing

Scenario:

It allows me and my fellow students to access updated learning tools from anywhere, making collaboration easier and saving time. Where we can view some digital notes and modules for us to be easy to access. The remote capacity of cloud platforms means that a more diverse range of students can also be reached by educational institutions while lowering costs.

Software

Scenario:

I use software to help me learn more efficiently. This can include games and simulators, flashcard apps, video conferencing, and some online learning apps for , online encyclopedias, or tools like calculators or spellcheckers. For me to make my learning easy. For the past 3 years we have been using some software in our daily life as students, like Microsoft 365 where it is really necessary in the learning process.

Transaction

Scenario:

We are in a transaction everyday we cannot just notice it sometimes, as a lazy person like me I like purchasing online that going to a mall to buy my necessities one of online platforms that I've been using is Tiktok shop, Shoppe, Lazada, Food Panda, and in paying them I am using gcash, gcash is very easy to use and safe also you don't need your wallet too.

Hardware

Scenario:

As an education student the first thing that we need is Gadgets like phones, laptop, printer, wifi, and etc. So it is easy for us to access some online learning access.

Digital Data

Scenario:

As a student I rely more on digital data to have more accuracy, because judgments and actions are made by computers rather than people, so it is greater accuracy in terms of assigned duties. Also it is faster and wider reached because the digital data can contact and provide data to many individuals simultaneously and at the one push of a button, it is really incredibly and considerably faster to use and to access with.

Internet Browsers

Scenario:

Web Browsers allow me to access websites, search for information, shop online, and connect with my friends worldwide. They can translate complex web code into user-friendly pages, making the internet accessible to everyone and easy to use too and it is also relevant to our journey as students and future educators.

Computers and Technology

Scenario:

Last semester in one of our subjects, the teacher required us to create our own research. We need to gather information on renewable energy sources. Computers and technology help us and guide me on how to use computers and technology effectively for our very own research. Computers and technology have really been a powerful tools for research. First, we begin by identifying reliable online sources. We also used search engines to find reputable websites, academic journals, and research papers related to renewable energy sources. We also made sure to evaluate the sources for credibility and relevance. From this scenario, we, student reallt needs to seeks guidance on using computers and technology in making research. Where even the teacher provides information on finding reliable online sources, the computers and technology still hits diff.

Online Access

Scenario;

I noticed this during the pandemic in 2020 where the pandemic started, the Philippines Local Government implemented the Digital Online Class where the students started to rely on Online sources. Then nowadays we noticed that the majority of the population relies heavily on the internet for various aspects of their lives. Country is known for its strong community spirit and commitment to progress. Where online access has become an integral part of everyday life, enabling the people to stay connected, access information, and even on conducting and relying on their businesses.

In the Philippines the local government has implemented a digital infrastructure plan to ensure that every school has access to high-speed internet. This initiative has transformed the country into a hub of digital innovation, attracting new businesses and entrepreneurs who appreciate the convenience and opportunities provided by online connectivity such as online sellings and etc.

The citizens in the Philippines and also all over the world have embraced the benefits of online access in their daily lives. Students can easily access educational resources and participate in online learning programs. Small business owners can reach a wider customer base through e-commercial platforms. Professionals and un-professionals can also work remotely, saving time and reducing commuting expenses. Even healthcare services have become more accessible through telemedicine, allowing people to consult doctors online without leaving their homes that's another benefit of online access.

The community has also leveraged online platforms to enhance social interactions and support local initiatives. Online forums and social media groups have become platforms for sharing ideas, organizing events, and fostering a sense of belonging. The students have been actively participating in virtual seminars because it is easy for them to access, they don't need to travel at all and it's less hassle, where they can freely voice their opinions and contribute to decision-making processes.

Online access has also played a crucial role ti us as we response to emergencies and natural disasters. The local government uses digital communication channels to provide real-time updates and instructions to residents, ensuring their safety and well-being. Also Online fundraising campaigns have been successful in mobilizing support during times of crisis, allowing the community to come together and help those in need.

Online access has become a lifeline for the people, empowering them to thrive in a digital age. The country serves as an example of how a strong digital infrastructure can enhance the quality of life, foster economic growth, and strengthen community bonds.

____________________________________________

Here I am emphasizing Learning process because all that I've mentioned was all interconnected w/ each other. Online access in the learning process, where the teachers can a make use of the internet by proving the students with extra study material and resources such as interactive lessons, educational quizzes as well as tutorials. Teachers can also record their lectures and provide it to the students for revisions which is better than reading from notes. We cannot deny the fact that every student always uses their gadgets so it is easy for them to access their notes when it is digital.

Online access can be applied in various ways in teaching learning in Virtual Classes Online access can be applied in teaching and learning in various ways to enhance the educational experience. Here are some examples is the Virtual Classes where Online access allows teachers and students to connect through video conferencing platforms, enabling live virtual classes, Online Learnings where we can utilize online learning platforms which the teachers can create and share educational resources such as lecture notes, videos, quizzes, and assignments, Collaborative Projects where nline access enables students to collaborate on projects and assignments, even when they are not physically present in the same location where they can also create group chats so they can communicate with each others, Multimedia Content with this the implementer can incorporate multimedia content into their lessons to make them more engaging and interactive, and also in Online Assessments where Online access allows for the administration of online assessments, including quizzes, tests, and exams or diagnostic exam trough google drives, and etc.

[fortunatelycoldengineer]

Cloud Computing Quiz . . . . write your answer in the comment section https://bit.ly/3E1ywHp check Q.No.3 of the above link

[manoranjansahoo]

NPTEL: Cloud Computing Quiz Week 10 Assignment 10 Answers keys Solutions...

[jayanthitbrc]

Global Gamification Market Analysis 2024 – Estimated Market Size And Key Drivers

The Gamification by The Business Research Company provides market overview across 60+ geographies in the seven regions - Asia-Pacific, Western Europe, Eastern Europe, North America, South America, the Middle East, and Africa, encompassing 27 major global industries. The report presents a comprehensive analysis over a ten-year historic period (2010-2021) and extends its insights into a ten-year forecast period (2023-2033).

Learn More On The Gamification Market: https://www.thebusinessresearchcompany.com/report/gamification-global-market-report

According to The Business Research Company’s Gamification , The gamification market size has grown exponentially in recent years. It will grow from $18.05 billion in 2023 to $22.45 billion in 2024 at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 24.4%. The growth in the historic period can be attributed to increased use of gamification in marketing, growth in the gaming industry, rise of mobile gaming, employee engagement and training needs.

The gamification market size is expected to see exponential growth in the next few years. It will grow to $56.7 billion in 2028 at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 26.1%. The growth in the forecast period can be attributed to integration of gamification in education, adoption of gamification in health and wellness, expansion of gamification in customer loyalty programs, increased use of gamification in virtual events, emphasis on data-driven gamification strategies. Major trends in the forecast period include advances in technology for gamification, gamification for remote and hybrid work environments, personalization and customization in gamified experiences, integration with augmented reality (ar) and virtual reality (vr), blockchain integration for transparent gamification.

The growing penetration of smartphones is expected to propel the growth of the gamification market going forward. Smartphones refer to a type of cellular telephone that can also perform computing functions. These smartphones enable the user to access gamifying mobile apps anytime, anywhere, allowing them to compete with others and achieve their learning and winning objectives. For instance, in February 2023, according to Uswitch Limited, a UK-based financial conduct authority, mobile connections in the UK reached 71.8 million, showing a 3.8% increase from the previous year, totaling approximately 2.6 million additional connections. Furthermore, it is projected that the UK's population will expand to 68.3 million by 2025, with an estimated 95% of the population, or around 65 million individuals, owning a smartphone. Therefore, the increase in smartphone penetration is driving the gamification market growth.

Get A Free Sample Of The Report (Includes Graphs And Tables): https://www.thebusinessresearchcompany.com/sample.aspx?id=7691&type=smp

The gamification market covered in this report is segmented –

1) By Platform: Open Platform, Closed or Enterprise Platform 2) By Size: Small And Medium Enterprises, Large Enterprises 3) By Deployment: On-Premise, On-Cloud 4) By End-User Vertical: Retail, Banking, Government, Healthcare, Education And Research, IT And Telecom, Other End-User Verticals

Technological advancements have emerged as a key trend gaining popularity in the gamification market. Major companies operating in the gamification sector are focused on introducing new technologies to sustain their position in the market. For instance, in January 2022, Soffos, a UK-based technology company, launched TestMe, an AI-powered quiz-based training tool for corporate training managers and student exam preparation. It generates quiz-style, open-ended tests that are uploaded onto the platform for users from any resource, where the users can speak or type answers in natural language. This gamification element will help to keep the user engaged in exploring trending topics and sharing their progress with others throughout the study journey.

The gamification market report table of contents includes:

Executive Summary

Market Characteristics

Market Trends And Strategies

Impact Of COVID-19

Market Size And Growth

Segmentation

Regional And Country Analysis . . .

Competitive Landscape And Company Profiles

Key Mergers And Acquisitions

Future Outlook and Potential Analysis

Contact Us: The Business Research Company Europe: +44 207 1930 708 Asia: +91 88972 63534 Americas: +1 315 623 0293 Email: info@tbrc.info

Follow Us On: LinkedIn: https://in.linkedin.com/company/the-business-research-company Twitter: https://twitter.com/tbrc_info Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheBusinessResearchCompany YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC24_fI0rV8cR5DxlCpgmyFQ Blog: https://blog.tbrc.info/ Healthcare Blog: https://healthcareresearchreports.com/ Global Market Model: https://www.thebusinessresearchcompany.com/global-market-model

[kloudcourseacademy]

Cloud Computing Quiz Time! Amazon Web Services (AWS) is a giant in the tech world, but do you know which category of cloud computing it belongs to? Comment with your answer and let's test your cloud knowledge!

[iubians]

Cloud Computing Quiz - Basics Fundamentals MCQs With Answers

Cloud Computing Quiz – Basics Fundamentals MCQs With Answers

Cloud Computing Quiz  – MCQs Question with Answer Basic Fundamentals are specially designed for Undergraduate Students to Prepare for Different Kind of Competitive exams for jobs like Lecturer and also for BSCS, and BSIT Exams so let’s Start Prepare Now Cloud Computing Quiz 1. Library-level virtualization is also known as. A. User-level virtualization B. Microsoft-level virtualization C. OS-level…

[defaulttwig]

Pick a Color

Bruce Wayne x gn!reader

Summary: You can’t sleep and decide to keep Bruce company on his ride back to the cave. Unfortunately for him, you know how to work the comms.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: this is so dumb but sometimes dumb fics are fun (gif: pov you’re abusing comm privileges to talk to Bruce about random things and he’s had a long night)

The overhead lights flickered to life after you flicked the switch. You took one step forward, wrapping your blanket tightly around yourself. A small cloud formed in front of you and you shivered.

Taking a long look up and down the place, you swept your gaze over this sight. Off to the side, the motorcycle leaned on its brake. Beside it was an empty space. So, he took the car this time around. Stepping further into the room, you ambled your way to the computer.

You turned it on, pulling out the chair and curling up on it. The screen took a moment to come to life. Once it did, the sight of the batmobile's steering wheel blessed your eyes. You flicked a switch on the microphone attached to the computer and pulled it toward yourself.

The screeching as it slid across the surface did not go unnoticed. Briefly, the view on the screen flicked to the touchscreen on the dash, displaying a blue screen and a clock, before it turned back to the road. You waited, not quite ready to make the first sound.

Neither was he, it seemed. The hands on the wheel shifted and curled tighter around it. Faintly, you heard the low sound of his music, a sure sign he was done for the night. He no longer needed to focus and could use the few minutes in his car as a time to wind down before he got here and returned to whatever priority he had at hand.

"What are you doing up?" His voice came through softly with a sharp edge to it.

You gave it a minute to permeate in the air before you responded. "How'd you know it was me?"

He ignored your question. "It's five in the morning."

Under the statement was a repeat of his first words. What were you doing up? You fell back into the chair and pulled the blanket tighter around you. No matter how you answered, he'd know the truth.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm an early bird now?" You smiled wryly to yourself.

"You should be in bed." He let out a sharp sigh. "You shouldn't even be there."

"Well, I am." You pulled your phone out from inside your blanket cloak, inputting your password. "I wanted to keep you company until Alfred gets up."

"I didn't ask for your company." A moment of silence passed where you both let that sink in. He tapped his thumb on the wheel. "Go to sleep. You've been up all night."

"No," you blurted. "I'm staying right here."

He knew better than to try again. Your stubbornness wore him out on top of the long night he had. He sighed but made no counter.

You let the silence drag on, listening to the sound of his music and the rumbling of the car over the speakers. Flicking through your phone, you ended up on a quiz site. You fell into a state of comfort, curled on the chair while hearing him simply exist. It almost felt like you were with him in there.

Bruce's voice broke you out of your reverie. "What are you doing right now?"

You hummed. "Just sitting here. It's cold down here by the way. You should do something about it."

"Get a blanket."

"I have one right now." You finished your quiz, learning that your favorite type of bread meant your soulmate was currently thinking about you. Gee whiz, that was a crazy coincidence. Maybe soulmates did exist. "Are you bored?"

"I'm not bored." If anything, he sounded just below the bar from annoyed.

You skimmed through other quizzes.

"Pick a color and find out how you get arrested," you read aloud. Sheesh. Not the strangest quiz you found. "Bruce, want to-"

"No."

You snickered at the blunt rejection. "You have nothing better to do."

In retaliation, the music cranked up on his end. You pouted at the drums exiting the speakers. So, he wanted to be that way, huh. Well, it wasn't like he hadn't tried this before.

You clicked the quiz, opting to take it for him. The first options were between orange and blue. You mulled over the colors. Truthfully, if you had to pick any color to match Bruce inside and out, it'd probably be black or gray. The guy could use some color in his life though.

"You don't seem like an orange guy," you said. He didn't respond. "Then again, I'd like to see you wear bright orange."

"Prison uniform," he countered.

You raised a brow. "That's your response to that? Fine. Orange is too gaudy for your complexion anyway." You hummed and clicked blue.

Next, purple and red. "You know, purple was used as a symbol of royalty. And, you're considered the prince of Gotham."

He cranked the music louder.

"Red matches you more, I'd say." You rambled to yourself, hoping for a reaction. "It's symbolic of the sacrifices you made." You made yourself more comfortable in the chair. "The throes of passion you not only put into your work but the passionate lover that you are not."

The music turned down a little. "What?"

You smiled. "What?"

"Passionate lover?"

"That you are not," you concluded. "I mean, that's what I'm picking up right now at least." Silence, apart from the music. "What, you want purple instead?"

He sighed.

"Okay. Red." You clicked the latter option. "For the record, I think you are a generous lover. Very good at giving. All the models you've been with before have praised you for it. Remember that Becca woman with the nice legs? She told me that you-"

"What are the options now?"

You paused. For a moment, you forgot what you were doing. "Right." You looked at your phone. "Yellow and pink. Huh, that's a tough choice. I can't picture either color on you."

Your gaze roamed over the surface of the table. Apart from housing the computer and a few scattered papers, you found yellow sticky notes scrawled in chicken scratch and small doodles. From when you left random messages anytime you sat here. You tried to picture Bruce with them.

That was as close to yellow as you could think. You clicked the option and moved on. White or grey.

"Are you more of a white kind of guy, or grey?"

Bruce hummed. "What'd you pick for the last one?"

"Huh?" You didn't expect him to care about that. "Yellow."

A silence fell over that had you wait for a response. On the camera feed, he turned his gaze from the road to the wheel.

"Grey."

Not that you expected him to pick white. Your phone displayed a light gray, but if you had to guess you were certain his mind was set on a darker gray. It suited him.

"Okay. The next colors are brown and taupe. Think a more earthy, subtle brown. If you know what I mean. And taupe is, bland."

"Brown."

"That's what I was thinking." Lastly, the final choices. "Black or green."

His answer lacked hesitation. "Black."

You glanced up at the camera feed. His headlights were on and from the grainy picture, you could see a tunnel. He was close now. You turned back to your phone and read the result.

"Tax evasion." You snorted the moment the words came out.

Bruce, however, did not laugh. He remained silent while you giggled about it.

"That's how they got Al Capone."

"I'm not like Al Capone." His voice edged with frustration. He turned his music off completely. "Get off the computer."

Before you could respond, he cut the audio feed. Dead silence greeted you, not the sound of the engine or his breathing. You raised a brow and leaned toward the mic.

"Bruce? Did you turn me off?" The lack of reaction gave you your answer. You scoffed playfully. "Wow. I hope you're doing your taxes."

The camera feed displayed the nearing entrance to the bat cave. You slumped in the chair and turned it toward the growing sound of a car. The sleek, black vehicle appeared through the tunnel moments later. It pulled to a stop in its usual place.

You wrapped the blanket tighter around you as the driver got out.

Batman had his back turned to you. Shoulders taut, head lowered, he sighed deeply. The cowl slipped off before he turned to you. Holding it to his chest, he gazed at you with hooded eyes. If it weren't for the smudged makeup around his eyes, you'd say there was some baggage there. And not just the emotional kind.

He ambled leisurely toward you. Stare hard and you might've noticed the slight limp in his step. He stopped at the foot of the chair, where you curled your legs to your chest, and crossed his arms. You tried to lighten the mood with a smile.

He sighed again, closing his eyes. "Go to bed."

You dropped your smile, immediately defensive. "You first."

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

You turned your attention back to your phone. "I'm not the one who should be worried about tax evasion."

Bruce grabbed the armrests and lowered himself to your height. You shrunk under his hard gaze. He was tired. He had a long night. And here he was trying to get you to go to sleep.

Before you could muster up the words to voice the hypocrisy, sharp steps echoed into the cave. You both tensed and gave each other a look. What time was it?

"I believe you both should be in bed at this hour." Alfred appeared in your peripheral, gripping his cane with a stern look. "It's a little early for this, don't you think?"

You gulped, snapping your gaze to Alfred while Bruce relaxed. He dropped his head tiredly before pulling away from you. Gripping the blanket, you slipped out of the chair to stand beside Bruce.

"Good morning, Alfred," you said.

"Wish I could say the same. Off you go." He gestured to the exit with his cane. "Need all the rest you can get."

Bruce wasn't as willing as you were. "The case-"

"I'll tend to the case." Alfred shook his head. "You can trust me to find whatever it is you're after. You go get some shut-eye."

With a little more stern gazing, Alfred managed to crack Bruce's facade. He relented, hurrying to change into appropriate clothes for outside the cave. You waited by the steps with not much else to do. You weren't tired still. And you wouldn't be until you were in bed with Bruce.

Alfred shook his head as the two of you finally meandered upstairs. "Like a couple of raccoons." He called out as an afterthought, "breakfast will be left in the bedroom for when you wake."

Before disappearing completely, the two of you muttered in unison, "thank you, Alfred."

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

love letter, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook gets love letters shoved in his mailbox and under his apartment door all the damn time. You, too, get love letters shoved in your mailbox and under your door. All the time. It could be a sweet gesture, but this is the twenty-first century. Love letters aren't all they're cracked up to be. 

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; short graphic descriptions of sex acts; smut (fem reader, a very intense make-out session including some wild tongue and too much saliva, nipple play, a bit of m-receiving oral, cowgirl, handjob); non-idol!BTS – technically university, blond, softsub!Jungkook x working, softdom!reader; slightly desperate and needy JK

yes, yes, it’s MTV Unplugged ‘Telepathy’JK

--

"I'm so tired of people thinking they have a chance with me."

Was the exasperated declaration as you backed up into your apartment, only to turn around and witness Jeon Jungkook dumping a waterfall of colorful envelopes from his giant black backpack onto your hardwood floor. 

"At least remove your shoes before you start flaunting how hot you are," you replied dryly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he kicked off his large white sneakers. "Look at this shit! It's relentless! It's annoying! I just want to live my life!"

You vaguely recalled Jungkook being excited about his first love letter upon reaching university, and then the second, the third... and now you were staring at pile number five hundred on your doormat. "I don't know, put a sign on your door? 'Please stop, the answer is no?'"

Jungkook winced. "I can't do that. How many hearts am I going to break?"

"Uh, I dunno, you already broke half the campus by existing in general."

He bonked you on the head lightly with his denim jacket sleeve. "I have not. I've only slept with a couple people and that was supposed to be no strings attached."

You shrugged. "People can't understand that. Especially women."

He puffed his cheeks and stepped over the pile. You noticed the small stickers and nice handwriting on the colorful pastel paper. You almost felt bad, seeing all the effort put into them.

"At least they're cute. I only get torn notebook pages with scribbles."

"Stop lying. You get girls' letters too," Jungkook grumbled. "Can I borrow your computer? One of my professors assigned an online quiz and the internet at my place is down, again."

"You gotta move," you commented, kneeling down to collect the mess Jungkook made. You noticed Jungkook flit his eyes about before throwing up his hands and bending down to help you. 

"I'm trying to get out of the lease, but I have a couple more months left," he complained childishly.

"What about your other friends? Can't you go bother them?"

Jungkook frowned, sticking out his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath winked at you. "You hate me now or something?"

You laughed, standing up with a stacked pile of confessions to Jeon Jungkook. "No, I'm just curious as to why you always come here."

He shoved the rest in your arms, his pile slightly messier than yours. "You live the closest and you're usually home. Plus, you have two computers."

"A laptop and a desktop," you corrected. "Don't you have a laptop?"

"It's easier to borrow yours."

"Lazy."

Jungkook ignored your remark and ticked his silvery-blond head further into the apartment. "Can I borrow it or not?"

You laughed. "Of course. Laptop's on the bed."

He turned and followed the hallway to your bedroom. "Same password?" he yelled, not looking back.

"Obviously."

"Why is it my birth date?" he shouted.

"Because, one, no one will guess it, and, two, you're a dumbass and always forget it."

"I do not!"

"How many times did you ask when the password was Klingon?"

"I don't know your nerdy shit!"

"Do your fucking assignment," you belted down the hall. 

Jungkook stuck his head out of your bedroom door and scrunched his nose to make a hideous face at you, holding your gunmetal-colored laptop. You rolled your eyes as he disappeared again. This crackhead. You let out a sigh, walking past the acrylic painting of a blue sky with pink-purple clouds hanging in your living room, flicking through at all the letters addressed to Jungkook.

Surprisingly, you knew what he felt like. With you, it started with inviting one guy over to your place, sucking his dick, and then suddenly a letter appeared. Well, letter was putting it nicely. Dirty napkin with words scrawled with smeared ballpoint pen shoved under your door, explicitly asking for more. Then another, wanting it. Then another, begging for it. You ignored them. At some point, you invited a girl over, ate her out, and then the colorful envelopes started appearing, with cute stickers and neat handwriting.

Mmmhmm.

Why did Jungkook bring them here anyway? To brag? For you to peruse? You spread them out them on your coffee table and tore one open. Read it. Simple confession of love, no name. You were kind of jealous. Jungkook always got nicer ones than you did. Something about being a sexually uninhibited woman seemed to translate to others that you were down to fuck anyone, anytime, anything. You tossed the letter aside, ripped open a folded card closed with lilac tape. Another, 'I love you, please go out with me', no name. Toss. And you opened another one, reading out loud. 

"I want to cram all one hundred and seventy-nine centimeters of you into me?”

Uh.

Huh.

Still no name.

Cute peach stationery though. 

Was it a euphemism? Symbolic? Thinly veiled code? Hm. In any case, this was more along the lines of shamelessness you encountered yourself. 

By all conventions, Jeon Jungkook was attractive as fuck. Pretty pink lips, big brown eyes, manly sharp jawline. He kept his hair on the longer side, around ear length, now silvery-blond compared to the usual black. You heard he dyed it a couple times, but now it had since faded to the original blond.

Oh, yeah, also he had nice hands and a body to die for. 

You could see why Jungkook got all these love letters. You? Well, similar reasons, except less muscles. Also, yours weren't really love letters. More like vulgar remarks on the backs of grubby receipts. 

Probably just as heartfelt.

The only reason you knew of Jungkook was because you were friends with one of his close friends. Alright, maybe you sucked his friend's dick. More than once. But anyway, not the point. The point was that the topic of love letters came up one night when everyone was hanging out and you voiced your predicament. It was the summer before Jungkook entered university. He had burst out laughing, thinking it was a hilarious situation.

"Haha, that would never happen to me!"

Jokes on you, Jungkook, karma's a bitch. 

You thought about moving, but the location was close to your work and the internet service was great here. At least you always recycled the paper. What were you supposed to do? Keep an album of Starbucks napkins of people asking if your tongue was good or not?

You opened another envelope addressed to 'sweet, adorable Jungkookie'.

Their words, not yours. 

"Shove your dick down my throat and make me gag? Smiley face?"

Well, that's a contrast. 

Jungkook didn't start contacting you on his own until the letters started coming and then they didn’t stop coming, flooding his mailbox and underneath his door, overwhelming and confusing him. He didn't think he would get much attention, although perhaps it might be your fault, since you seemed to have set the precedence for this type of thing at this particular university. There was at least one person in every year that got this treatment, and it all started with one dirty napkin with smeared ink. Rumor caught on and then bam! It became a thing. 

So, yeah. 

Maybe kind of your fault.

You shouldn't have told so many people about that napkin. 

You fished out a pizza receipt from the pile, inspecting it. You couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. Then you noticed it had Jungkook's phone number and an order of three pizzas. Not a confession, just trash from Jungkook's backpack. Did he really eat three pizzas? Hopefully not by himself and in one sitting. You noticed the timestamp. Mmm, three in the morning. Okay. Maybe he did eat three pizzas by himself in one sitting. 

You filed through the rest, removing trash from the recyclable paper. Paused when you found a scrap of paper that said, "Put your dick in my ass." You recognized this curvy, narrow handwriting, slightly heavy-handed. Same person wrote you the same note this week. 

This was why you didn't take the messages too seriously.

You saw a particularly thick purple envelope and picked it up, tearing it open. It was several pages, with tiny, crammed handwriting on paper with cute bunnies on it. Several pages detailing straight up porn with Jungkook as the leading role. 

You almost burst out laughing. 

Who the fuck would write this?

And send it to him?

Not you, that's for fucking sure. 

Still, it wasn't the worst thing you've ever read. Had some spelling mistakes and poor grammar. Instant turn-off. Needed a good proofread. You settled onto your brown leather couch, highly entertained as you read it. Then you actually burst out laughing, because said person wanted Jungkook to lift them and fuck them at the same time and that kinda shit just wasn't possible. You would know, because you’ve tried. It sounded good, but in practice, the dick ended up falling out pretty quickly if the pussy was any sort of wet.

If you weren’t wet, then, eh, not sure why you're fucking. 

"What is so fucking funny?" Jungkook grumbled, poking his head around the corner, still holding your laptop. 

You held up the sheets of bunny-printed paper, still laughing. "Someone sent you their written erotica and you're the star!"

Jungkook grimaced. "Oh yeah, that person. They write something new every week. It's weird." He frowned. "I try to take it out so you don't have to read that shit. I must have missed it."

"It's hilarious," you chuckled. "You should publish them into a book."

"You know I can't do that," Jungkook sighed, putting your laptop on the coffee table and snatching the pages from you. "I throw them away like everything else."

"Did you finish your assignment?" you chortled, leaning over to look at the laptop screen. Submission successful. "80%?! When you could easily cheat?"

"I read a question wrong," Jungkook whined, balling up the paper and throwing it down. "Ack."

You looked up at him and he was looking upset at the pile on the table. 

"What's wrong?"

"What if one of them is real?" 

"Huh?"

"I mean... I just throw them away now. But what if one of them is real?" Jungkook wondered out loud. 

You shrugged. "Does it matter? They'll tell you in person if it's that important."

Jungkook tilted his head at you doubtfully. "Will they?"

You sat back into your couch, with your legs wide open. You were wearing sleek black leggings and a cropped pink sweatshirt. Not the most ladylike pose, but you didn't really care. You gestured to the stack of letters on your wooden coffee table. 

"They should. If they actually like you and it's not a joke, then they should tell you in person and accept that they might be rejected."

Jungkook frowned and slumped down next to you. His light-wash denim jacket made a loud floof as his ass hit the brown leather cushions. The wash of his jeans matched his jacket. He wore a white graphic t-shirt under. It looked vintage, but it probably wasn’t. 

"What if they're nervous?" he questioned, twisting his pink lips around.

"So what? Everyone's nervous. We all live in a perpetual state of terror."

Jungkook rolled his eyes. 

You leaned forward and plucked a sky-blue memo note from the table, reading it out loud. "I love you. Marry me." You held it out to him. "See? You get nice ones. I get, ‘choke me like you hate me’ and 'shove your tongue into my asshole, please'. Rarely do I get is that please at the end," you finished with a dry laugh. You looked up to see Jungkook staring back at you. Your laugh died a little seeing his serious expression. 

"Yes."

You blinked at him. "What?"

Jungkook ticked his chin to the note, then shifted his eyes to you.

You pointed to the memo sheet and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't write this."

"I did."

He was so serious that you couldn't laugh. You just blinked at him rapidly and turned your head to look at the sky-blue memo sheet, finally recognizing the clean, block-like handwriting and spotting the bottom right corner. English letters. A J and a K fused together, the way Jungkook usually signed his paintings.

You dropped the note like it was on fire.

Jerked your head up, not to him, but to the painting across from you in the living room, the one with the blue sky and pink-purple clouds, with a tiny JK signature in black at the bottom right corner. The painting you asked Jungkook to make you a while back. 

"You paint, right? I want something calm for my living room. I bought a canvas, so about this size. It's that cool?"

Jungkook had squinted his eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I could draw a pretty big dick on it."

"This is for my living room, dumbass. And I said I wanted something calm."

"A flaccid dick then."

You turned your head back to Jungkook of now, who was wringing his hands on his thighs, wiping off his palms. He noticed you watching him and puffed one cheek before letting out a big sigh. 

"I was... gonna leave it on your laptop," Jungkook mumbled, flapping a hand to the sky-blue note. "But I couldn't find it in my backpack, and then I realized one of the pockets was open, the one where I keep receipts... anyway I had put the note there, so I came out to see if it was in the pile... yup, there it is."

He sucked in his cheek and fell back against the leather sofa.

"Was a joke."

Jungkook's voice sounded hollow. Empty. 

"... Ah." You tucked the tip of your tongue in your cheek.

"Not the greatest joke," he added flatly.

“No, it’s not,” you agreed. "Jokes that are insincere are bad jokes."

The black words glared back up at you, contrasting the pale azure paper. You picked up the memo sheet again. Turned to face him, holding it up next to Jungkook's head of silvery-blond hair. He pursed his lips and looked away from you, jaw clenched in nervousness. 

"Just say it."

He puffed one cheek again. "It was a joke."

"Then why are you saying it in past tense?"

His brown orbs shifted from side to side before Jungkook tried to bolt out of his seat, only for you to slam a hand down on his shoulder and throw a leg over him, straddling his lap before pinning the note to his chest. He yelped sharply and looked up at you with huge, shaking irises. 

In all your time knowing him, you never tried to sleep with Jungkook.

Never. 

You jabbed the note into his white shirt and he gave you a terrified squeak in response. 

You scrutinized his face, jaw slack, eyes wide, blond curls framing his chiseled cheekbones. One of your eyebrows raised, your voice calm and unfazed.

"Say it."

"You say it," Jungkook finally shot back, furrowing his brows, biting on his lip and mustering up the most indignant look he could produce at this very second. You didn’t react. He seemed to have forgotten you did, in fact, say it, although perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he meant.

You never tried to fuck Jungkook because he didn’t treat you as anything more than his primary source of internet when his own was down. Ah, and also his outlet for complaining about his love letter problem. And then there was that other little wrinkle, the unwritten societal rule one of sucking a guy's dick you're still friends with - don't suck his friends' dicks. Surefire way to fuck up a friendship, especially if the dude’s ego was fragile.

Jungkook’s friend was dating someone else now though. His ego couldn’t be that fragile.

You leaned forward and Jungkook's annoyed gaze faltered. He gulped and tried to shrink into your brown leather couch, as if he could somehow disappear under you.

"I love you," you stated clearly and firmly. You glanced at the slightly crumpled piece of blue paper before your eyes flickered back to his face. "Marry me."

Hah, the thing about rules with you was...

Fuck 'em.

Not actually. 

Eh, not the point.

"Really?" Jungkook squeaked, voice cracking slightly.

Ah, right, the other reason you never tried to sex up Jungkook because he was a little bit of an idiot around you. But maybe this sky-blue note detailed the reason for it. 

"Say it," you repeated crossly, poking him in the pecs. "Stop avoiding it."

You observed Jungkook swallow hard again, Adam’s apple bobbing. You furrowed your brows, tipping your head down so that your forehead was hovering over his, eyebrow cocked, gazing into trembling brown orbs. Why was he taking so long? He wrote the damn words. Were they really just a joke? Hmph, why were you even trying then?

That’s how everyone was.

Not putting any stock or thought into their fucking words.

You lifted your finger but Jungkook’s right hand, the one with tiny tattoos, suddenly darted in your view, grabbing your hand back and jamming your finger onto his chest again. His heartbeat raced under your fingertip, thud-thud-thud, rapid bass accenting the moment. Electrifying it.

“Don’t.”

Whisper so faint you frowned and closed even more distance between you two, picking up the scent of vanilla fabric softener and lush cotton. A little different than you, who used a blackberry and spiced vanilla perfume.

“I like this,” Jungkook breathed under you, chewing his lip anxiously. You could feel his warm breath tickling your lips and chin with how close you were. You could count his individual eyebrow hairs, even though the eyebrow product he used.

“I… really like this.”

He let go of your hand.

Now you raised both eyebrows.

You slowly uncurled your middle finger, landing it on his chest next to the index. You felt him shiver a little, lips parting. Straightened your ring finger, planting it down. His lashes lowered a little, brown orbs on your face, watching your reaction to him. You could count the moles on his face. The one on his nose. The one on his cheek. The one under his lower lip. The one on his neck. Your pinky slid onto his chest. A wispy moan left his lips, eyelids fluttering, blond strands floating around his head with the little rise and fall of his heavy, tense exhale.

Why is it your birth date?

Take a wild guess, dumbass.

Your fingers abruptly dug into his white t-shirt, crumpling the note and scrunching the graphic up in your fist. He inhaled sharply, head tipping back and lips nearing yours, a whine escaping his throat. You quirked an eyebrow, drawing back slightly, taking in the rich depth of his tan skin, the sensual line of his neck, up to his angular chin and his dangling silver earrings. All of it. His hands immediately came up to grab your wrist and forearm, ensuring you and himself that you wouldn’t let go, the tendons in your flexed wrist right against his large palm.

“Say it, Jungkook,” you demanded. “Say those words with your pretty pink tongue hanging out your mouth for me.”

You watched him obey immediately, tongue sliding out and touching his lower lip, brown eyes framed by his long lashes and hazy with lust.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathed, a little gargled with his tongue out. “Fucking marry me, please.”

Ah, you couldn't help it. 

You smirked.

"What about all your admirers?" you murmured, twisting your fingers in his shirt, digging your nails into his chest. "You'll break all those poor hearts you’re worried about."

Those dark brown eyes told you they didn't give a single fuck. 

"What about you?" he countered, closing his mouth a little to speak more clearly.

"Me?"

The definition of trouble?

Well, if you looked that up in a dictionary, there would definitely be a picture of you. 

Jungkook’s lips parted once more, keen to submit to your wickedness, pink tongue slipping out again, shiny and glistening with saliva. Breathing shallowly, rubbing your wrist with his thumb, encouraging you to keep going. 

Your lips curved into a treacherous smile.

"I'll break all the hearts to get to yours, Jungkook."

And then you licked his tongue. 

A low moan bubbled from Jungkook's chest, his eyes rolling back and his hips bucking up, desperate for friction as the tip of your wet muscle glided over his warm softness, your spit dripping down his throat, listening to his moans turn into messy garbles of your name, begging you, pleading you, more, more, kiss me, please, and you hooked your tongue around his, gently nudging his jaw with your other hand. Knuckle to chin, tilting your head as your lips closed onto Jungkook's. 

It was not a neat kiss.

There was spit running down his chin, dripping onto his neck and your skin, your lips roughly working his, tongues intertwined and making even more of a mess, you sucking forcefully to earn pained, delicious whines. Jungkook was far too turned on to attempt to glamorize it, cries a jumbled mess under your greedy mouth, but none of that mattered. The moment was sensual and dark, bodies speaking to each other through dopamine and adrenaline. Your hand released his shirt, breaking his grip, switching to burrowing your fingers into his soft blond hair and running your nails over his scalp, leaving lines of prickling pain to enhance your kiss. 

"F-Fuck, oh fuck, yes..."

Your teeth caught his tongue, pulling back and forcing his head to follow. Jungkook made a pained noise, trapped in your embrace, whining as you took him to the brink. You released him swiftly and he snapped backward, blinking hard, trying to reorient himself, but it was impossible, your lips crashing down again, thrusting your tongue into his mouth aggressively, one eye open to witness his fucked-out state, pupils unfocused, long lashes quivering, moaning into your mouth and you inhaling it all, literally taking his breath away. 

It started out with a kiss. 

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss. 

It was only a kiss. 

You dropped your lower half onto his crotch and Jungkook gasped, breaking the kiss, strings of spit breaking between you two. You smirked wickedly as you felt his hardness trying to escape its clothing jail, his large hands already on your thighs and hips, sinking his fingers into the soft fabric of your leggings, rocking you into him, desperately trying to get some stimulation.

"Please," he croaked, panting for breath, pulling himself up to sitting position, so easy and smooth, fuck, so sexy, and now Jungkook was in your face, pleas on the tip of his tongue pouring out, tempting you, wanting it. 

"Please, wanna be yours so fucking bad, seeing all those fucking letters and notes you get, and it pisses me off, it's me, I want it to be me, I want to be yours and I'm telling you to your face." 

Whisper achingly hot, deep voice soaked with longing, staring into your eyes with those shaking brown orbs, spinning with emotion like an unstable top, barely enough torque holding it in place and all it took was another spin to encourage it or a gust of rejection to topple it over. 

"And you don't even care about mine, you think they're fucking funny, fuck, I can't stand it, let it be me, please..."

His hands running up your sides, grazing against your breasts, and now his hands were in your hair and yours were in his, bringing your face close, the crumpled sky-blue note right between your joined crotches, forgotten, witnessing the agonizing lust wound tightly in this embrace. 

"Let it be me," Jungkook begged.

You licked your lips slowly, scarcely swiping against his. He shuddered, leaning into it, taking whatever crumbs you gave. His long fingers tensed in your hair, yours buried in the dark roots of his. 

"You'll have to skip the marriage bit for now," you teased lightly. "I don't think my parents will appreciate you slapping down papers before you finish school."

Jungkook snickered, tucking his tongue in his cheek roguishly. "Can't they understand I have to snatch this ass as soon as possible to make people back off?"

Your hands slipped down to his jaw, fitting it in your palms, his silvery-blond stands wrapped around your fingertips. "They'll back off my door once they hear you screaming my name." 

You leaned in, but Jungkook stopped you, brown orbs glittering with mischief to get in one more quip. 

"I doubt it," he purred. 

Yeah. 

Jungkook was right. 

Ah, well. 

You seized his face and kissed him again, fuck, such malleable lips just pleading to be bitten by you, gazing up his nose and to his beautiful eyes, his soft skin in your hands, clenching his jaw under your power, letting you have it, letting you control it and him. You felt him scramble and throw his denim jacket off, dumping it onto your couch to cup your cheeks with his hands, sighing in satisfaction as you inhaled him. Your tongue lazily traced the outskirts of his lips, hearing the rattle of his beaded bracelets by your ears, amused, knowing they were his good luck charms. 

"They bring good luck," he had answered when you saw them for the first time.

You remembered tilting your head at the wooden beads on his slim wrists. "You trying to get your dick sucked or something?"

He had broken out in a loud guffaw. Nudged you with his elbow, cheeky smile on his lips. 

"Never gonna say no to getting my dick sucked."

"Mhm, cool, where's my painting of the flaccid dick?"

From then on, you noticed he wore the same wooden, beaded bracelets every time he came to your apartment.

Hmm. 

Now, your hands falling from his face, yanking his shirt from his pants, annoyed it was getting caught, and then Jungkook fitted his hands around your ass and lifted you easily, breaking the kiss, a moment for you to bear witness to his arms flexing – holy fuck, that’s sexy – right one covered in tattoos. Images and script, with one catching your eye, a string of words running up the inside of his upper arm. One you recognized because you had those words written on your bedroom wall, on a canvas hanging above your bed. A canvas you made, background a chaotic mess of varying dark red brushstrokes, the black script in the center, written by your hand. 

The exact black script with your flourishes and ticks, now tattooed on the inside of his right arm. 

Your eyes drifted to Jungkook's face and his naughty smirk, pleased to be found out. Your lips formed the sentence slowly, in awe of his audacity.

"The devil knows my name."

the devil knows my name. 

Hung above your bed, where all manner of marvelous sinful acts were performed. 

Jungkook grinned deviously. "I saw it. I wanted it on me."

Wanted it on him. 

Oh, fuck. 

Did he know? Could he guess?

"Who's the devil?" you whispered, smile widening, matching his. 

Jungkook reached down, yanking his t-shirt out of his jeans and pulling it up and over his head, revealing the body he sculpted himself, tan skin taut over hard muscle, toned and...

"You're the devil, of course," he snickered. 

Yours. 

"Ding dong daeng," you sing-songed.

How many people have been on your bed, head pulled back by your hand, blinking hard, trying to read the words on your wall through waves of forced ecstasy? Gasping them out, ending with a question, inquiring for an answer.

The devil knows my name?

And you, leaning forward, haunting whisper in their ears, yes, she does, before pushing their face down into the sheets.

"All those love letters not good enough for you, Jungkook?" you breathed, running your hands over his bare chest, spreading your fingers, letting your exhale out through your teeth. His eyes on you, torso trembling, hairs raising, feeling your nails dance up, up, raking over his collarbones and neck, leaving little pink lines of intensity.

"They're not you," he whispered. His hands brushing over yours, outlining your fingers, eyes darkening as you pushed him back into your sofa, lowering your head. "You, the one they talk about..." Your lips on his hot skin, kissing softly, tongue so slight that it made him whimper. "You, the one they look for..." His voice, deep and rumbling, vibrating your lips, pitching as you bit and sucked, leaving small hickeys. "You, the one whose bed I sit on, wondering who else has been there, wondering why it's not me, when I make myself available to you, so easy to prey on, but you let me be..." Your lips closing around his dark brown nipple, scraping your teeth against it, making him squirm and look down at you, you and your self-satisfied, ravenous smirk. 

"I let you read them," Jungkook whimpered, blond strands curled around his cheeks, chest shuddering at your nail flicking his other nipple while your mouth worked the other. "Let you see everything they want to do to me and you still didn't know."

You chuckled darkly. "What's there to know?" you mused, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the now hard pink-tinged nub, receiving small whines of pleasure as your reward. "It's obvious what you wanted. I was right in front of you. All you had to do was say something."

Jungkook frowned as you sat up, tongue in cheek, half-grinning.

"Look at you."

You crossed your arms and pulled your pink cropped sweatshirt up and over your head, dropping it to the floor. Casually running a hand through the top of your hair to pull it away from your face, gazing down at shirtless Jungkook covered in your red bites, cocking your head with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming over your figure and the curve of your breasts molded to smooth black satin. 

"You look like you eat hearts for breakfast," he murmured, admiration in his tone.

The side of your lips quirked further upwards.

"And yet you wanna love me."

Jungkook grinned. "I don't want to. I already do."

And then he was the one to pull you to him, kissing you hungrily, you immediately turning it into your favor, your pace, his tongue commanded by yours as he unhooked your bra, moaning into your mouth, rubbing your exposed nipples with his palms, unable to do much as you pushed him into the couch again, guiding his tongue down with your teeth and running the tip of yours over his wet muscle once more, trickling saliva into his throat and onto his chin and neck, messy and lewd. 

"The devil knows your name," you sighed into his mouth, feeling him knead your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples, tendrils of pleasure making your skin tingle. "And now the devil takes what she wants."

You saw the sides of his lips curve upwards as you backed up to strip the rest of your clothes, amused at Jungkook eagerly following suit and unbuttoning his jeans.

"Can't wait to flaunt how hot you are?" you laughed, reaching down to the shelf under the side table where a ceramic R2-D2 cookie jar sat.

"Do you think I'm hot?" Jungkook haughtily accused before gawking at your waist to ass ratio, his hands slowing, pants stopped to his knees in his distraction.

You gently took off the head of R2-D2 and plucked a condom from it. Some guy told you once that you couldn't like Star Trek and Star Wars at the same time and you told him to shut the fuck up as you slapped his nuts. He begged you to do it again. You fondly patted R2-D2's head after you fitted it back.

You straightened to see Jungkook on your couch with his hard dick on display.

You looked him dead in the eye. "You think I'd let you borrow my laptop if I thought you were ugly?"

Jungkook broke out of his trance and shrugged, finally yanking his calves – holy shit, his calves and thighs were muscular as fuck – out of his jeans, underwear and socks gone with them.

"Maybe you pitied my grades."

"I'd just pay for you to go to the library and fuck off, dumbass," you muttered, pushing his hands aside and ripping the condom open, drinking in the delicious sight of his throbbing red cock dripping pre-cum, his balls just waiting for – fuck it, you got down on your knees and wrapped your tongue around his length, Jungkook sputtering and gasping at your suddenness. Fuck, he smelled and tasted fucking good, clean and velvety to your lips enclosing around the head and sliding down, using one hand to scoop up his balls. Made eye contact with him again.

Jungkook breathed your name hesitantly.

Your tongue slid out of your lips and you jammed his cock all the way down your throat, slathering his balls wetly with your whisking tongue, circling around one and then the other, long expansive strokes that went past the girth of his cock, your pink tongue visible to him. Jungkook's pupils blew wide with shock, moans catching in his throat, whole body shivering, trying desperately not to look away even through you could tell he wanted to throw himself into your sofa and fucking lose it.

"Oooooooh, fuck, that's amazing.... Holy shit, your tongue is everything...."

You chuckled and pulled your head back, satisfied with his reaction. He seemed slightly disappointed until you rolled down the condom, cracking your neck.

"I think I've given enough." You stood up, getting back on top of him and his glorious thighs. "Time for you to be taken."

Jungkook smirked.

You smirked wider and more wickedly.

The sky-blue memo was crumpled into a ball, fallen to your hardwood floor.

Held him with two fingers, ugh, the weight of his cock, fuck yes, and those beautiful dark chocolate eyes, Jungkook, you dumbass, cursing that he didn't tell you sooner so that you could watch him groan and throw his head back like he was right now, gasping at your tightness, your name torn from his throat as you took in every centimeter of him, every pulsing vein and contour of his wonderful cock, stupid Jungkook and his attractive self not using his damn words so you could ride him like you were right now, setting up a fast, bruising pace. Your fingers dug into the back of the couch as you bucked your hips into his violently, keeping yourself tight because you were so fucking wet, fuck, so wet for Jeon Jungkook and his idiotic self, asking for internet to do his school assignments and not asking for his dick to be used as your fucking joystick. 

Dumbass.

"Oh fuck," Jungkook gasped. "Oh, fuck, you're so wet and tight, shit, shit, shit..."

"Tell me something I haven't heard before," you chuckled, only half-meaning it, waving your entire body to deliver a particularly hard smack to his crotch, Jungkook whimpering under you, his hands flying to your upper arms and clutching them, trying to hold on to your wildness.

"Holy fuck, you have some hard biceps," he blurted out, startled at the prominent muscle.

Well, you haven't heard that one before.

"Guess that's what happens when you jack off a lot of dick," you mused nonchalantly.

You ticked your head to Jungkook's arms – delicious – and he frowned at you, opening his mouth to protest and you cut him off by shoving two fingers into his lips, pressing them down into the wet warmth, grinning maniacally as you watched him struggle with your fingers rubbing his tongue and his cock getting assaulted by you aggressively slamming your hips down and clamping around his stiffness, tighter, faster, whines of your name in his throat, head falling back onto the couch with a flump. You were careful not to push your fingers too far. 

Getting vomited on wasn't really on your sexual activities bingo card.

Jungkook was, however, drooling down his chin and neck, and you pulled back to grab his shoulder with your wet hand – oh, fuck, his shoulder, what a lovely shape – and Jungkook wheezed for breath, you ignoring it as you focused all your energy on fucking the life out of him, dirty squelches and smacks of hips on hips, staring down at his abs and v-line, all his hard work at the gym on display, his hands still on your upper arms as he raised his hips to meet yours, needily moaning for you to destroy him with your pace.

Damn, maybe you would have sent him a love letter if you had seen him naked at least once.

"A-Ask me to cum for you," Jungkook finally got out, voice hoarse from breathing so hard for so long.

"You're going to anyway," you taunted.

"Want you to ask," he whined, almost pouting. "Tell me to do it."

You gazed into his eyes, into those brown irises overtaken by black pupils, him a top spinning by your hand, your plaything commanded by your body, pussy clenching around his twitching cock, spurred on from his pleading tone, giving him a devious and wicked grin, speaking to his swollen lips, the devil knows your name, Jungkook, and him moaning back, fuck yes she does, so close, so fucking close, unashamedly barreling towards your release, power in your veins and under you, his muscles rippling as he fucked you back, amplifying every thrust.

"Jungkook."

"Y-Yes?"

"Say it."

Brown eyes locked with yours.

"I love you. Marry me."

You smirked.

"Cum for me."

A half-second and then you let go, letting the feeling rush in and envelop you, the moment held back to torture him, and now you felt it all, already at the tipping point, strained moan as your orgasm crashed into you, shudders all over and falling, sitting all the way down in his lap to experience the throbbing ache of your core giving out and spilling onto his cock and balls in rapid bursts, viscous and sweet. The scent of sex mixing with blackberry and spiced vanilla, his length jerking inside you, and only then did you hear Jungkook crying out your name over and over, the roar in your ears fading out to his shivering moans, hands sliding up and down your arms, eyes closing and lost in the pleasure of your pussy squeezing out his cum. His touch travelling down to your waist, pulling you to him.

Messy, soft kisses, your name and curses mixed together.

"It's me, right?"

You smiled into his mouth that was still asking questions.

"Please let it be me. You'll let me love you for real, right?"

Pushing your hair back, his sweaty blond locks sticking to your face.

"Because I already do, can't stop, won't stop–"

"Yeah, Jungkook, funnily enough I figured that from the first kiss already," you chuckled, running your fingers through his ash blond hair and pulling his head back lightly, seeing him pout, the mole underneath his lower lip peeking out.

"But..."

"Hm?"

His voice suddenly small, vulnerable, his semi-hard dick still inside you.

"Do you love me?"

You lifted a brow. "What kind of dumbass question is that?" You grabbed his arm and pressed your nail into his tattoo of your words, drawing a pink scratch under them, making him gasp. "How can I not love you? Fuck, that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, my handwriting tattooed onto you. Yes, I love you, Jungkook."

Jungkook's jaw dropped.

This fool is still shocked after all this?

You reached down and held the condom down as you lifted yourself off, yanking him to his feet, pushing Jungkook to your coffee table, right in front of the pile of letters with his name all over them. You picked up your laptop and pushed it onto his chest, forcing him to hold it, him still confused, mildly stunned, not knowing what the fuck was happening.

Then you made him half-straddle your coffee table and yanked off the condom.

"Um–"

Grabbed his cock and started furiously jacking him off.

"Oh, f-fuck!"'

And then he realized what you were doing, the sheer wrongness of it, getting harder and harder with every second, throbbing in your hand.

"You're just like them," you chuckled through exerted breath.

Faster, rougher, tighter, Jungkook clutching your laptop, his larger frame leaning against yours, head thrown back so far that his blond hair was brushing your shoulder, moaning lustfully as he thrusted his hips into your grip. White pooled onto the purple-red tip of his abused cock, far too sensitive to be jacked off this hard right after orgasm, but Jungkook begged you not to stop, streams of residual cum running down your slicked fingers.

"Always looking for your fix from the addiction that's me," you whispered into his ear, laced with an authoritative growl. 

You saw Jungkook's head lower out of your periphery, eyes opening, staring at the colorful envelopes with his name printed on them, the cute stickers and neat handwriting, panting your name, tendons and veins standing out on his neck, sweat beading on his tan skin. 

A low, dangerous chuckle rising in his throat. 

"There's a difference between them and me."

You felt his cock twitch in your hand, ridiculously hard at what you two were about to do. 

"They're not going to get their fix."

Jungkook shuddered against you, jerking his hips forward, thick white strings splattering all over the pastel paper as you watched, fascinated, the scent of his cum saturating the air and the envelopes, drops soaking and smearing the carefully written ink, time wasted and defiled. 

"I am," he moaned, twisting his body on your arms, leaning down to kiss you hungrily as you squeezed his cock, draining it all out, all over your coffee table and coating your hand, stained with Jeon Jungkook's love letter to you. 

--

masterpost

[mandoalorian]

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Two: Truth

Author's note: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: allusions to sex, mention of trauma

Word count: 4,400>

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Two - Next

"Can I help you?" you jumped when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You spun around on your heel, diverting your attention from the man on the television to the petite blonde girl who was doting a pale pink pant suit. Her blue eyes seemed friendly enough, but her expression of bewilderment and slight disdain was enough to make you uncomfortable. Your lips parted slightly as you tried to gather your words.

"I'm… I'm looking for someone," you said hesitantly. You turned back around to watch the television, pressing the palm of your hand against the screen and watching him with awe. You weren't sure if you were more flabbergasted by this brand new technology, or by the handsome man who was attempting to sell you oil.

"You're going to have to be more specific," the woman placed a hand on her hip and quirked her eyebrow.

"My friend Alistair…" you said slowly before shaking your head and smiling. "Do you know this man?" you pointed at the television.

The blonde woman looked completely and utterly perplexed. "Mr Lord?" she asked. Her mind was racing: everyone knew who her boss was. She pondered for a moment, questioning who exactly you were and where did you come from before shaking her head profusely. "Wait, I’m sorry. Did you just say Alistair?" she pinched the bridge of her nose and began to circle around you, taking in your appearance; judging your native Amazonian outfit and muddy skin.

"Yes, Alistair. We met in the park earlier," you explained. "Please excuse the dirt on my body."

"Mr Lord’s son…?" the lady said, speaking her thoughts out loud. No woman had ever come to Black Gold Cooperative requesting to see Alistair, note even his own mother. "Who are you?"

You smiled politely, taking the lady's hand. "I'm here to help. Where can I find Mr Lord?"

"Do you have an appointment with him?" the lady in pink asked, walking around the main desk and checking the computer. "I'm his secretary by the way. My name is Raquel." she mumbled as she pressed a few keys.

You introduced yourself and shook her hand, admiring her beautifully manicured nails. "An appointment?" you repeated. "No, not really. He doesn’t know I’m coming.”

“Mr Lord is a very busy man,” Raquel sighed, tapping her manicured acrylic nails against the oak wood desk. “He doesn’t do surprise visits.”

“That’s okay, I wish to see Alistair anyway. I must know if he’s okay.” your body was still rife with concern over what you had witnessed happen to the little boy earlier at the playpark, and how he had disappeared.

“There is no way for me to contact Alistair, he’s just a child… but uh, let me see what I can do.” Raquel sighed, knowing she wasn’t easily going to get rid of you anytime soon. “I can give Mr Lord a call and let him know you wish to see him,” she told you, ringing in his phone number. “Can I ask what your business with him is?”

“I’m here to help him,” you repeated with an eager grin.

“Right,” Raquel said slowly as you turned back to the television, admiring the man with the dark blonde hair, sporting the three piece designer suits. “Help him with what?”

You blinked momentarily, watching this Mr Lord drone on and on and on. “Oil.” you practically squeaked out.

“Oil?” Raquel questioned, not believing you for one minute. She had every right inkling to believe you were dangerous, but it was her job to contact Maxwell in this type of situation, no matter what. You squeezed your eyes shut almost sensing her disbelief when you heard her speak again. Her voice had changed completely, high pitched and almost articulated. “Oh, yes, hi! Mr Lord! There is someone here who wishes to see you.”

Thank the Gods he’d picked up the phone before Raquel could quiz you further.

Maxwell had answered from the car phone. He’d just dropped Alistair off at Julianna and Theodore’s home. It was never fun, having to go see his wife. He wanted to be strong, and he certainly wanted to keep his promise to Alisitar, about spending the whole weekend together - but there was too much at stake. He knew that deep down, Alisitair would understand one day. Maxwell cursed himself for messing up so quickly. The phone rang just as Maxwell slid back into the car. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Max huffed a sigh and held the phone to his ear. “Who is it?” Maxwell asked wearily. “If it’s the FBI or the FTC…”

Maxwell was nervous. He was even confused that Raquel was still at Black Gold, still happy to work for him after he did commit what potentially could be classified as war crimes. Maxwell was a realist and he knew that with every action, came a consequence. The world had never been kind to him, and he looked down at the envelope that Theodore had handed to him. His name, Maxwell Lorenzano, was written on the front in Julianna’s perfectly inked calligraphy. Max hated it. He didn’t have his name legally changed fifteen years ago just so his ex wife could throw his old identity back in his face. He hated his real name. It was a constant reminder of his past life. But now he didn’t know what was worse, being a Lord or a Lorenzano. The name Lorenzano had been tainted for him, by his family, and years of bullying. But the name Lord? He’d tainted that himself. A conman. A stupid, messed up loser. Julianna hadn’t wanted to see Maxwell, and instead sent her new boyfriend to collect Alistair from him.

“Julianna wants you to have this,” Theodore said with a frown, taking Alistair’s hand and pulling him away from Maxwell. “When you read through it, give her a call.” was all he said before slamming the front door in Max’s face. Max didn’t know what was inside the envelope, but he knew it couldn’t be good.

“No, it’s not the FBI or the FTC. It’s a woman,” Raquel said hesitantly. “She… she’s a bit odd,” Raquel whispered, but not quiet enough for it to go unnoticed by you. Nevertheless, you pretended to ignore her comment. Perhaps you were odd, and perhaps that was okay. The world of man was not something you were used to. But you were here for a reason. The delay in Maxwell’s response prompted Raquel to say more. “Mr Lord… I don’t think she’s going to leave without seeing you. Would you like me to call the cops?”

“No!” Maxwell practically barked. He turned on the engine of his car and held the phone between his ear and shoulder, reversing out of the driveway. He didn’t know what was going on, it was too early to tell - but Maxwell couldn’t have the police anywhere near Black Gold. There was a good chance the police might be looking for him anyway. There was a good chance Max believed he might even have to go into hiding. “I’m on my way.” Maxwell promised before putting the phone down.

You turned back to Raquel when you heard the phone click back onto the hook. “Well, he’s coming,” she shrugged. “Just take a seat please. He won’t be long.”

You walked over to the centre of the lobby where there was a long circular velveteen sofa with a silver foiled surface. You ran your finger over the material, savouring the soft feeling. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before. You let out a small gasp when you noticed your gladiator sandals had trailed in mud and made a mess of the pristine marble floor. You knew it wouldn’t take much to clean, but you still felt bad.

The lobby of Black Gold Cooperative was large, with pillars similar to what they’d have in the Themysciran palace back home and vases of white roses decorating every corner. You wiped down your skirt and tunic, not wanting to be responsible for any more mess, and sat down on the sofa. You groaned as the velveteen plush engulfed you. You couldn’t help it, Raquel was gone and you were exhausted after spending the day looking for Alistair. You hummed in contentment, unbuckling the leather straps on your shoes and laying down on the sofa, curling up and closing your eyes.

Everything was dull. The sky was grey, dark and rainy clouds casting a cold shadow over your shoulders. This was weird. Normally your dreams would be utter and complete blackness - the inability to see anything, only hear the chaos that surrounded you. Only hear the cries and pleas for help and terror - and his voice. The man you were soughting for. You wondered if upon venturing to the world of man, your premonitions had stopped. But that didn’t make any sense. You were one step closer to finding this mystery man.

In the distance, you saw a group of kids tormenting and teasing another little boy. The image reflected what you had seen earlier at the playpark with Alistair, but it was different children this time. “What are you wearing?” you heard one boy mock as you ran closer. “Look at your shoes! Little Lorenzano can’t even afford new shoes!” a different girl cackled.

Lorenzano. You stopped dead in your footsteps, your eyes widening as you watched the group of kids disband, leaving the little boy with glazed brown eyes and ripped clothes shaking with fear. Lorenzano was the name of the man you were looking for - the man you had to help. Your mother Hestia had helped you learn that, but you had never seen him before. This Lorenzano was just a child. There was no way he could have a son.

You took a deep breath and reached out. “Sweet boy?” you called, taking a cautious step forward. Little Lorenzano didn’t even flinch. “Hello?” you asked again. You got as close as you could to him, walking around in circles and taking in his appearance, but he didn’t even notice you. It was almost like he couldn’t see you.

That’s when you realised you weren’t in a dream. You were in a memory. And suddenly everything made sense. This broken little boy was in fact the same person you were looking for. But now, he was a broken man who was desperately trying to make things right. Desperately trying to turn his life around. You’d seen a fleck of his past and you wondered if he was anything like that now. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you had to find him.

There was no way of telling how long you were asleep for, but when you heard Maxwell Lord’s voice, you couldn’t distinguish it from your dream or reality. It was so familiar, so rich and articulate.

“Jesus Christ,” Maxwell muttered, pacing backwards and forwards before turning back to you and prodding a finger into your bare arm. “Wake up.” he said sternly, his voice a little louder than before. You yawned, bringing your hands up to your eyes and giving them a gentle rub before sitting up and looking at the man.

It was him. The same man you had seen on the television. Only there was something not that right. You couldn’t put your finger on it. You grinned, your eyes gleaming with delight as you stood up and cupped your hands around his face, squeezing his cheeks and getting as close as you could. You touched him and maneuvered his body in different ways, lifting his arms up and brushing down his shoulders. He was broader than any Amazonian woman, and that said a lot. Surprisingly, Maxwell became putty in your grip. He would’ve never have expected it, but he just let you mould him and sculpt him in any which way you pleased. You traced his skin with your fingers, taking in every detail. It was certainly the man from the television - but this version of Maxwell Lord looked more tired and disheveled. His hair wasn’t perfectly styled and he wasn’t fitted into a perfectly pressed suit. But he was still just as remarkable and there was something about his presence that simply took your breath away.

He could say the same about you, too. He was completely stunned by you. Your beauty was incomparable to anyone else he’d ever seen. You almost looked out of this world. He was quick to shrug off his fascination with you, boiling it down to the fact you were covered in dirt and dressed in the strangest costume. He had more important things to worry about… like Alistair and whatever was in that damn envelope Theodore had given him.

“You’re a man,” you whispered in disbelief.

“I- what?” Maxwell asked, furrowing his eyebrows together.

“A real man,” you gasped, running your fingers through his dark blonde hair. Maxwell had to push back a longing groan, as your touch went straight to his semi-hard and already throbbing manhood. He gulped, diverting his gaze from your beautiful eyes.

“Do I- do I not look like a real man?” he asked curiously, ignoring the shudder that felt like it was swallowing him whole.

“Themyscrian depictions of man illustrate a strong, tall, muscular fellow who carries a sword and shield,” You explained, biting your lip and placing the palm of your hand over his chest. You could feel his beating heart under your touch and it almost took your breath away. You dragged your hand down to the curve of his tummy and Maxwell felt his cheeks heat up with insecurity. He never let anyone touch him like this. “They were naked too.”

Maxwell practically choked on his own tongue. That comment alone was enough to get him to step back and raise his hands up defensively.

“Well princess, I won’t be getting naked for you anytime soon, that’s for sure.” He chuckled nervously.

You smiled. “Princess? No no, I’m not a princess,” you giggled before introducing yourself. “I’m the goddess of home and hearth.”

Maxwell gulped before bursting into a fit of laughter. He looked around the office lobby, his movements quick and stressed. “Right, where’s the camera?”

“The- the camera?” you asked, confused.

“Is this for TV? Come on, tell me quickly. It’s a practical joke… right? You’re here, in my office, covered in dirt and in the most ridiculous clothes I’ve ever seen. And you say all these weird words like Themysciran - whatever that means, and you’re telling me you’re the goddess of home and… hearth?” he said almost quizzically. “You’re the crazy woman who stole Alistair away from me at the playpark earlier.”

So Raquel was right. He really was Alistair’s father. “Hey!” you frowned at his accusations. You hadn’t lied to him once. “You weren’t where Alistair left you. You disappeared and I was helping him find you!” you shot back, feeling an anger bubble inside of you.

“I don’t know where you come from princess, but here in America, you don’t just go round stealing people’s kids. That’s like, a federal offence.” Maxwell shouted, wiggling his finger in the air. “Jesus, where do you come from?”

You defensively crossed your arms over your chest, his yelling making you feel vulnerable. You could tell that he was clearly already under a lot of stress but he had no reason to take it out on you. “Themyscira.” you told him calmly.

He scrunched up his face in disdain. "There it is again. Them-a-what-now?"

"Themyscira." you said, this time making conscious effort to say it slower and clearer.

"With all due respect darling, I've travelled the world. I've been to many different places. I spent my adolescence studying a map of the world and never in my life have I heard of such a place." Maxwell shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm not here to prove anything to you, Mr Lord. But I find your attitude towards me to be quite upsetting." you revealed, looking back at the revolving doors you came in. There was a deafening silence that filled the room.

"Why are you here?" Maxwell snapped eventually with a huff. You swallowed as he stalked over to you, his gaze not breaking from you once. There was something primal in his walk. "Why… are you… here?"

He wished he could ignore the distracting erection in his pants. He didn't even know you. You were just a random girl who had come into his office demanding to see him, refusing to leave until he came. You were just a random girl who had got close with him, who had touched his face and dragged your hand down his body. Who… talked about naked men. Truthfully, Maxwell had never been with a woman who was quite like you, but things were starting to make sense for him. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he were to just take you up to his private office.

Your throat felt dry and for the first time, you couldn't fathom words. His honeyed brown eyes were now dark and lust blown as he raised his hand to caress your cheek. You didn't even realise the way you subconsciously moved your face further into his hold and a wicked smirk crossed his lips. His hand was large and warm and his touch filled you with a sense of protection you didn't even think you needed. "Oh," Maxwell chuckled darkly. "I know what you want from me."

"You do?" you asked timidly, not even realising the hold he had you under. For a second, you'd forgotten why you were even here. You were so taken in by Max. You were feeling things you had never felt in your life for this man who had been haunting your every thought. He was so close to you, his breath fanned over your skin and you felt a sensation erupt between your legs. His presence was intoxicating, and he could say the same about you.

"But I can't," Maxwell shook his head, his gaze falling to your lips before dropping his hand from your face and taking a step back. He cleared his throat and looked away awkwardly, moving his hand down to his crotch trying to hide his arousal from you. "I… I should go."

There was an immediate feeling of guilt that washed over Maxwell. He'd gained reputation in the past for sleeping with women, namely his assistants and secretaries, and not shown them a slither of affection or care. He was a selfless lover and he could get away with it because he was rich, famous and attractive. But now he was none of those things. When he looked at himself in the mirror before heading to the playpark, his own appearance knocked him sick. The stress wrinkles setting in his forehead, the dark circles around his eyes… and he hadn't showered in a week. His hair was a mess and he couldn't even bring himself to check a whiff of his underarms. He didn't know you, but he sure as hell knew you deserved better than a man like him.

You were bright eyed, polite, and curious about the world around you. Not only that, you had demanded to see Maxwell just because you wished to check on his son and make sure he was okay. You had gotten very close to Max and not said a word about his bad hygiene or his tired eyes, instead, you looked at him with hope and admiration. Almost as if you believed that he could become a better man.

"Wait!" you called, reaching your hand out before Maxwell could walk away. "I'm sorry if- I'm sorry if this wasn't a good conversation for you. I've never spoken to a man before."

Maxwell titled his head and quirked an eyebrow. "You intrigue me," he admitted, pursing his lips slightly. His gaze fell from your face to the circle of rope attached to your belt. It didn't take long before he realised what it was— but no, it couldn't be. "What is that?" Maxwell asked, pointing at the rope as fear dripped from his tongue. He even took a few steps back.

You unravelled the rope and held it out for him to see. "This is the lasso of Hestia, it was my mother's. She gave it to me before I left for the world of man. Only two were made and this— this is the last one," you smiled a tearful smile at the memory of your mother. Diana had taken the other lasso, as well as the sword of Athena, back in 1918. "My mother Hestia is the goddess of Truth. And the lasso of Hestia compels any individual it uses to see the truth, or speak it," There was no telling what the expression on Maxwell's face showed. You frowned. "You still don't believe me, do you?"

The lasso had initiated a trauma response in Maxwell as you turned it on. He watched it glow yellow, the same yellow that Diana's lasso had glowed when she wrapped it around his ankle in the island bunker. He remembered her words; "See the truth." and his heart sank into the depths of his chest. That's when he saw Alistair.

Maxwell had always thought Diana Prince was strange. Ever since she told him she didn't own a TV— because who in the 1980s didn't own a TV? And who would deny a free 19 inch TV from Sears? But when she had followed him to Cairo with her pilot boyfriend and caused nothing but chaos in her red, blue and gold superhero outfit, he knew she was special. That she possessed powers. This was later reaffirmed in The White House, and then in the bunker as Maxwell tried to plot world domination and grant wishes to every citizen.

He looked at you behind all the mud and dirt, and he looked into your eyes. Could it be true? Could you be telling the truth? What if you were like Diana? Would he really want to be around someone like you?

Maxwell took a huff of air and wrapped the lasso around his wrist. You watched him, letting him do so. "Prove it." Max swallowed the lump in his throat that he hadn't even realised was there. You looked at him with hesitancy before nodding your head. If this worked, he has no reason not to believe you. A magical lasso… and it wasn't the first he had seen.

"What do you wish to see?" you asked Maxwell, your voice quiet. You didn't detach your gaze from his eyes once.

"Do you see what I see?" He asked, and you nodded your head in affirmation. Maxwell thought for a second, before remembering you had come all this way to Black Gold Cooperative just to see Alistair. At first, there was something deeply unsettling about it… but your presence made Maxwell feel safe. "Show me my son."

You closed your eyes and Maxwell followed your actions, and it wasn't long before your vision was clouded by the image of Alistair in his bedroom at Julianna and Theodore's house. Sitting at a desk, he was humming a song. Maxwell couldn't help but smile, recognising the song from the video game Alistair played with him earlier in the day. With an array of colourful crayons, he intricately sketched a drawing of a man with messy yellow hair and a tie, holding the hand of a smaller boy with black hair holding a teddy bear. He labelled the drawing ‘me and daddy’.

"Alistair sweetheart," Julianna called, peeking her head through the door that stood slightly ajar. "Dinner is ready," Alistair didn't look up once, continuing to rub pink crayon into his paper. "What are you drawing there?" Julianna asked, slipping into her son's bedroom and peering over his shoulder and the drawing.

"Me and daddy," Alistair mumbled, only half listening. He was too busy concentrating on adding the purple detailing on his daddy's socks.

"Oh sweetie, I told you that maybe, sometime, you could draw yourself and Theodore? You know, since he's your father too. He does so much for you Alistair, he takes you out to the movies, takes you to your piano lessons… he's a good guy," Julianna smiled, ruffling her son's hair. She pressed her finger into the yellow haired stick man wearing purple socks. "He's not a good guy."

Alistair furrowed his eyebrows, dropping the crayon to the paper and turning to face his mother. "My daddy is my hero." Alistair told his mother, his brown eyes wide and full of love.

Julianna didn't say a word. She stiffened up, standing tall and glared at her son's drawing. Her stare was so intense, you wondered if she was about to eject lasers from her eyes and set the paper on fire.

"Go eat your dinner." She finally said coldly, her words dripping with malice before barging out Alistair's bedroom.

The lasso of truth unravelled itself from Maxwell's wrist and you curled it back into your holster, clipping it in place on your belt. You looked up and noticed the tears that were pricking Maxwell's eyes.

"You- you probably shouldn't have seen all of that," Maxwell admitted, his voice croaking slightly as he tried to hold himself back from becoming a sobbing mess. "I'm not a hero."

You reached out and took the hand of the big-name businessman who was standing before you on the verge of tears. His hand was big, cold, and his fingers were calloused. You took him in both of your hands and rubbed soothing circles into his skin, desperately trying to provide him with warmth and comfort. His glazed brown eyes looked up at you with bewilderment as he wondered why you were being so nice to him. He was a monster, he deserved every bad consequence that would be coming for him. And yet, you treat him like a human. Even at the height of his career when he lived in riches and luxury, nobody had treated him with the politeness and love you were currently giving him — and you were a stranger. A stranger who was covered in mud with a magic lasso.

"Maybe you are a hero."

—-—-—

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie

I Believe In Love: @mrschiltoncat @thebloodrobin @bxxbxy @marydjarin @the-feckless-wonder @typicalnerd98 @thwiso @julieteagk @starsandmando @kishie8 @supernaturalcat7 @galaxypox @cocastyle @welcometothepedroverse @galactic-rhi @honestlystop @walkerchick007 @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @criminalmind1927 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @thesadvampire @wonder-jedi @eternallyvenus @way-too-addicted-to-anime @spacedaddydinn

[collecting-stories]

PSL - John B Routledge

Request: Could u do John b and perhaps “if i hear pumpkin spice one more time i’m gonna scream” and or “wanna go apple picking”!?

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You sat at the kitchen table, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, pajamas still on. You were sitting in front of your computer, waiting for the zoom chat to start. All you wanted to do was climb back in bed with John B and go back to sleep. The coffee next to your computer was steaming but all you could focus on was how tired you were. And cold. North Carolina had a cold front that had moved in and John B’s Chateau lacked heating because he hadn’t been paying the bill.  

And the water heater had burst.

The zoom window on your computer expanded, your teacher’s screen mirroring on your own and you couldn’t help being thankful that there was no camera necessary for this class. Especially as you felt John B press a kiss to the top of your head, his hands on your shoulders.  

“You look ridiculous.” He muttered.  

“I’m cold,” you whined, twisting in your chair as you felt him let you go and heard him heading across the creaky floor. “How are you not?” You asked, realizing he was in just a pair of shorts.  

He shrugged, walking around the island to grab a mug out of the cabinet for coffee. “I swear to god,” he muttered, catching your attention as your teacher continued to drone on about some off topic subject.  

“What?”  

“Is this what I think it is?” He asked, holding the box of k-cups up for you to see. The box was orange, leaves on it to illustrate the autumn flavor, Pumpkin Spice scrawled across the front with the familiar starbucks logo beneath it. “If I hear pumpkin spice one more time I’m gonna scream.”  

“Don’t say it out loud?” You suggested, biting your lip as you tried not to laugh at the annoyed expression on his face. If there was one thing that John B was slowly realizing about you it was your absolute love of all things pumpkin spice. Fall hit every year and pumpkin became the center of your universe.  

“We have pumpkin spice creamer, a pumpkin spice candle,” John B held up the jar candle on the counter as proof, “pumpkin spice soap, pumpkin spice oreos, and now pumpkin spice coffee. I feel like I’m somehow trapped in some weird pumpkin spice psychedelic trip.”  

“You’re over-exaggerating,” you stressed, turning back to your computer for a second to answer a question, holding your hand up to keep John B quiet, “cognitivism.” This class, and the quiz review that you were in the middle of, was important for your grade but finding motivation every morning to get out of bed was a chore. John B made it almost impossible on a good day and now he was distracting you so that you could have it out over your pumpkin obsession.  

“I’m not over-exaggerating. There is pumpkin spice crap all over the house, it's insane.” He argued once you’d muted the microphone again.  

“I put up with all your weird obsessions.”

“I do not have weird obsessions.” John B replied, still making the pumpkin spice coffee despite bitching about it.  

“You’re wearing your bandana.” You point out, “I think you’ve taken it off like, twice since I met you.”

“Not the same. At all.”

“It’s pretty damn close JB.” You replied. The bandana in question was tied around his neck currently but you were sure it would migrate throughout the day. Tied up around his nose and mouth as a mask, pushed up to keep his hair out of his face, tied around his wrist, tucked in his pocket...it was like some sort of extra limb that he kept connected to his body at all times. “I don’t see why you have to make such a big deal over me liking pumpkin spice...it takes up like, two months of your life.”

“Normal people like pumpkin spice...you’ve adopted it as the only flavor that exists.” John B argued.  

“Well, you’re drinking the coffee so stop bitching.” You didn’t complain about what he liked or didn’t like, you didn’t understand why he got to complain about your stuff.  

“I’m just saying-”

“Well stop saying it!” You snapped, wrapping yourself further in your blanket and crossing your arms.  

For a moment, the only sound was in the room was your teacher wrapping up the lesson for the day. John B stood over at the counter, drinking the pumpkin spice coffee that he had complained about in the first place, watching you pretend to focus on class. He was just venting really and he hadn’t meant to piss you off as much as he clearly had. Sighing, he walked over to you, leaning over you again and kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re in a really bitchy mood.”  

“I know...” John B sighed. He stood up but let his hands hang over your shoulders, allowing you to take his hands, leaning back in the chair and looking up at him. You knew he was stressed, you were too. “Let’s do something.”

“Now?”

“When your class is over.” He replied, glancing at the clock on your computer screen, five more minutes. “Wanna go apple picking?” He knew that you had been asking him for weeks to do anything that wasn’t just hanging around the Chateau, going to the Wreck or anything else you did on a daily basis.  

“For real?” You asked. “We’ll have to take the ferry?”

“That’s fine.” John B replied. “I swear, I’ll get dressed, we can go.”

“Okay,” You agreed, kissing him this time when he bent down. “And just think, in like another month it’ll be peppermint mocha everything.”

“Can’t wait.”  

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts  @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @aoba-josigh @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @mysticsthinking @heavenlymama @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @lemur46 @under-a-canyon-moon @calums-betch @dpaccione @bbeauttyybbx

[makeupbychio]

ily // C.H

pairing: Calum x Reader.

words: 2,3k.

warnings: fluff, a little bit of smut, swearing, spoilers about tv shows (Brooklyn 99 and Glee). English is not my first language. 

a/n: I tried to do this genderless so I would love some feedback. Hope you like it, love y'all.

inspired by: a couple of shows that I watched during this quarantine.

It's a lovely and cozy night with Calum, whom cooked your favorite food and watching him during the process so dedicated to make it perfect like five stars restaurants made you looking at him with heart eyes the whole night. The tomato sauce was perfect and the pasta even more. You saw how he followed every single step of the recipe and refused you to help him. 

After finishing dinner, you were enjoying red wine -the bottle is almost empty- and talking to him about everything and anything. He set the dining room with vanilla candles to make it more romantic. The warm lights lightly illuminating your faces was so charming. 

Deeply inside you know that today it's been 4 months since you started dating, but Calum never brings topics like that or buys something every month and that's totally fine because you neither talk about it. He just surprises you with lovely details like this one in random days, not just when you have to celebrate something. 

When he feels like it he does it. Sometimes he caught you off guard like that time he poured like two hundred sunflowers in your house just because, or when he bought you the coolest denim jacket when he was on tour and he said extra things like the jacket was made just for you. Or when he printed the pictures Andy took in a party you threw because he wanted to have them as memories not just in his phone. Also, you find cute when he is so excited to send you his playlists he does every month with his favorite songs -he also made a private playlist for you know, when you need privacy-.

Once finished dinner, you moved to the couch to start your nerd marathon of the shows you watch. He went to find a big blanket since it's cool outside due to the rain that's been going on for two days. He settled next to you and kissed your temple when you put your head on his chest and your hands on his ribcage. 

"Come here, baby" Calum said wanting you closer.

"What's our mood today? Glee or Brooklyn 99?" you asked while you were concentrated on the TV screen searching for said shows.

“Both" you said at the same time. You explained how you can't wait to know what happens in the show. You agreed to watch Brooklyn 99 first and then Glee when you were cuddle in bed. 

After finishing the Halloween heist chapter you were still laughing at Gina's funny surprises.

"Babe you would be the perfect Gina Linetti" Calum said when he stopped laughing. 

"I'm going to take that as a really good compliment, what about you?" you asked him looking up to find his eyes. 

"Hmm I don't know" Calum said confused. "We should take an online test to find out" he broke the cuddle position you both had in the couch to go find his computer. 

"That's so Amy Santiago" you teased him while he was in another room. Then he came back showing you the electronic device.

He sat straight next to you again and searching for Buzzfeed quizzes related to the show. 

"This one sounds pretty cool" he said focused on the screen and pointing the one he chose. While the link load slowly due to his weak WiFi signal you decided you will take the quiz first. 

"K'" you said with the computer in your lap reading the questions and choosing the answers fast. "So this says I'm Gina Linetti externally and Amy Santiago internally". You read the caption under the results and it makes sense to you. 

"I was right babe, now my turn" he said taking from you the computer. It was funny how he took this so seriously to the point he had his tongue out, a thing he does when he is working. Both of you kinda expected and not his results. "I'm Rosa Diaz externally and Jake Peralta internally". 

"That's kinda sexy tho" you said biting your lip to refuse a giggle till you couldn't resist and start making fun of how bad ass but a puddle he is.

He stood up from the couch to lay against the wall with crossed arms looking at you how cute you looked all teasing him and also surprised with the results. "I can be the Jake Peralta to your Amy Santiago" he was now teasing you.

"Challenge accepted" you said before a moment of silence and Calum broke the ice.

"Oh gosh I love you so much" he said with all the emotion and then froze when he realized he said that out loud and not just inside his head. He waited for you to say something and as your surprised wide open eyes, he knew you weren't going to answer what he wanted. 

"What?" you asked surprised, not to make him repeated the words but to confirm if it was reality.

"Don't worry, I'm going to take a shower before bed" he said quickly disappearing into the bathroom and took his shirt off. He felt so stupid, he tortured himself for a couple of minutes with thoughts like you don't feel the same way about him and how maybe that scared you and now you were going to run away. 'Stupid Cal' he said to himself before he decided to leave that for later. 

In that short amount of minutes, in the other side of the room you were thinking about how he just threw the bomb at you with no warning. You felt bad that you didn't answer immediately, because you love him too but it was confusing how hours ago you were thinking about how he is not like that type of person to celebrate another month of your relationship or cheesy things but clearly he does. You thought how to fix this and your next move. 

When you were about to knock the bathroom's door Calum surprised you opening it before your action. He was surprised too to find you inches apart from him. 

"Jesus, y/n. Sorry, I thought you were still in the couch" he said when he stopped his rushing thoughts. "Are you okay?" asking if something happened or if you need something.

Calum was already with his shirt off and just with his jeans. You laid your fingers on his beautiful jaw to get him closer and kiss him. 

"I love you too, Cal" you said looking up directly to his eyes, fingers still on his jaw and your lips barely touching his. You moved forward a little bit to get you both inside the bathroom so you can close the door. Your moves were slow and that made the intensity filled the room. You know, sexual tension. 

You saw his sculpted tan back when he turned around to start the water. You bite your lip at the view. "Is Roy at home already?" you asked innocently him to be sure of something. 

He laughed at you being cautious when multiple times before Roy definitely heard you both having sex. "I don't know, but that's cute from you to worry about my roommate's nightmares because of us" he was teasing you. 

"Fuck you" you said realizing that the house is huge and that Roy's room is way far from where you were. So you can have an idea about how loud you have to be so he can hears you. Right now you don't care and at the same time hoping that Cal's roommate could be asleep. 

You stepped closer to him and he couldn't resist it. It's not like he can't kiss you, he knows that he is allowed to that but he would kill for your kisses. He moved his head to reach your tinted cherry lips and started heating up rapidly the situation. He just cut the makeout session when you took off your shirt, then he removed the rest of his clothes to jump in into the shower. You bit your lip at the view and decided to join him so you took off your jeans too and stepped inside in underwear. 

"Baby no! That combo is my fave" Calum said when your clothes got wet immediately because of the hot water. You laughed at his words like if he doesn't has a washing machine or a dryer. You laced your arms around his neck and kissed him under the water. "I've been holding this for a while and a lot of emotions and actions to show you how I feel but not anymore" he said and started to feel like he finally poured out what was stuck on his mind. "I wanted to tell you in a more romantic way than how I did it minutes ago watching Brooklyn 99, just pretend that we are outside under the rain so it could be more romantic like a Hollywood movie from the 50s" Calum said. 

He rapidly interlaced both arms in the end of your back to keep your body close to his. You rested your arms around his neck and he went up a little bit with his hands to fight with your soaked bra and then took it off and throw it to the floor crossing the glass door. A cloud of steam was already formed because of the heat in the room.

Now just your panties were left but you were so focused tracing Calum's tattoos with your fingers while he admired you doing it. It gave him chills when you found his chest tattoo.

"I love your tattoo too, honey" he said with his hand moving down to the side of your left thigh where your tattoo is. Perfect time to lift you up and take off the last piece of clothes. Your legs around his waist and he got you holding you with his strong hands placed above your butt.

Calum laughed when you tried to hide your body. It was the first time you took a shower with him. But the only way to hide your body was pressing it harder against his.

From outside the shower your bodies seemed blurry because of the big amount of steam. That marks were erased when Calum lifted you up to hold your body against the wall, your legs were around his waist to give him better access. 

Lust immediately filled your mind with the passionate kisses and how good felt when Cal pressed your body against the wall, still lifting you with his strong hands. God that hands and arms drive you crazy with his tattoos and notorious veins. Next he asked you for permission to fill your entrance, always making sure you were alright. You just nodded at him and he did it, your right arm so tight around the back of his neck and left hand holding against the glass leaving your handprint freshly. 

You both failed at being quiet but the sound of water and the soundproofing walls gave you advantage. Words couldn't be found, just moans and kisses wherever you had access. Calum still holding you changed to another wall, now one hand holding you and the other pressed against the wall that gave him the balance and to keep pushing inside you.

"Calum, I'm close" you said whispering on his ear. He wanted to make you feel even better so he speed up his pace. The water was hitting Cal's back and was burning him with the marks you were leaving with your nails. 

You tilted your head back when you reached your orgasm wanting to have your feet back on the floor and seconds later of friction he reached his edge too. 

He pulled off and helped you to for real take a shower and clean the sweaty mess. Now the calm and tiredness hit you both once you left the bathroom ready to -do quite opposite like minutes ago- put comfy clothes and cuddle. 

Calum dried your hair and you his. Once you put his baggy hoodie you jumped into the bed. You waited for him who was setting the heat for the house during the night.

While you watched Glee, with his head resting on your chest and stroking his curls, you thought about what he said earlier. Calum always sings the songs that he knows from the show and taps your skin gently at the beat of the music, and it's more than lovely to hear his beautiful voice. 

“Babe, what did you mean when you said that you had been holding that for a while?” you asked him when the cast of the show ended the song they were performing. He looked up at you.

“Like a month ago we were watching Brooklyn 99 that chapter when Jake was in danger and Amy felt guilty because she never told him how she felt and that hit me” he spoke with all the honesty. You found that so cute and cheesy from him and it made sense to you because for a while he seemed that he wanted to say something important to you but you never asked or pushed him to do it.

You kissed his forehead and smiled at him. Before you both returned your attention to the show you said, “I love you”.

"I love you too" he said. "I think you would be a perfect Mercedes" he started again teasing you about the characters of the shows you watch together, you are going to get used to this. 

You tried to break the closeness of his head in your chest because he knows that you don't have a beautiful talent and voice like Mercedes. "Ha ha very funny. So in that case you would be Sam?" you raised your brows at him because even when you love Sam, he's a player. 

"I think we can only resolve this with a quizz" he said smirking at you.

[greenygreenland]

If I Were You: Fives x Reader

-for reasons that make it easier for me, this takes place in the US in 2020, so yeah, COVID is a thing -it’s been a while since I’ve written any Star Wars one-shots. I’ve been so busy working on Wannabe lol Summary: You and Fives dream about each other, but you’ve never actually met face to face. You are from a different reality than his where Star Wars is fictional. You believe he’s real, but only can prove it to yourself when he appears in your world. Fives learns about how stressful life off the battlefield can be.

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence, stressing over grades, punishment by parents (more like implied. I won’t write it out, so it’s vaguely stated.)

You sat on a crate, watching the flames lick at the air as Fives smiled to himself. You liked having dreams like this, where you both comfortably sat by the fire, chatting about your contrasting lives. You used to believe Star Wars was a fictional world, until you had dreams about Fives. He was always so real in your mind anyway, and this only made you want to believe in his existence more. 

“I have a big test tomorrow, but I don’t think I’m going to do so well.” you mumbled with a sigh. “It makes me feel bad that I’m struggling with this while you struggle with an actual issue.” Fives shook his head, shrugging a little as if it explained everything. “But I was bred for this, for war I mean. If I weren’t a soldier, I don’t know what I’d be.” He chuckled. “I can’t imagine myself sitting in a classroom all day learning about geometry and algebra. There are some boys who like that stuff in the 212th, but it seems like a waste to me.” 

You nodded in agreement. “Exactly. School is only good for producing data-rich kids who lack experience, especially when they start working and finding jobs.” 

“That’s how I felt when I was first deployed. No matter how much training you get, or how much you learn, experience is the best teacher. And like Rex always says--”

“--experience outranks everything.” you said in unison. Fives smiles, and he looks rather happy that you know that. But of course you do, in your world he’s only a fictional character. A person created by some movie producer or director or something (he didn’t remember). It gave him a mixed a feeling, a doubt of his very existence. Was he purely fictional? A fragment of someone’s own imagination? 

But then you told him something he swore to never forget: Just because it’s happening inside your head doesn’t mean it isn’t real. The world works in mysterious ways. Maybe we were meant to meet.

And so he hung onto that, always looking forward to when he fell asleep and talked to you. You always looked forward to your dreams too, allowing yourself to forget all of your responsibilities and problems. You never had anything to worry about around Fives, and having him by your side made you feel safe.

“I wish we could meet for real.” You didn’t mean to say that out loud and instinctively looked to meet Fives’s gaze. He nodded in agreement, resting his arms on his knees. “Me too, but if we do I’d rather you not see how horrific the Clone Wars has been.” 

“I wish the Clone Wars could have ended differently.” 

Fives looks uncertain of your answer, and he wonders if he should ask what the outcome of the War is. He wants to, but deep inside, he knows he shouldn’t.

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

You awake in your bed, rubbing at your eyes as your alarm goes off. You turn it off, glancing at the time groggily. 6:00. A sigh leaves your lips and you roll out of bed. There’s movement in your sheets. You freeze, taking note of how human-like the form was. “It’s too early for this sleep paralysis demons, stop--” you rip off the sheets as fast as you can, “--oh...” You trail off, eyes wide in bewilderment. There’s a familiar man in your bed, except, he isn’t a man at all. 

He looks to be around your age, and more youthful with the slightest hint of baby fat around his cheeks. He’s cleanly shaven, with a tattoo on his right temple of the aurebesh number 5. You stare at him for a moment, admiring how young, he looks. He's suddenly rolling in your bed, mumbling in his sleep before he jolts up, eyes wide and awake. He’s worried, maybe even a little scared at how unfamiliar the surroundings are. He’s already in ARC trooper mode, scanning his surroundings and reaching for his nonexistent blaster. 

“Where...” You met his gaze, swallowing hard as if it’d help ground you. 

“Fives.” Your voice is almost a whisper. “How did you get here?” You couldn’t believe your eyes. He was alive, in your bed, real. He shakes his head and sits up in your bed, eyeing his ‘civiie’ clothes uncomfortably. “Uh...these aren’t mine.” he dumbly states. You have the urge to snort. “Of course they aren’t yours Fives.” A long sigh escapes your lips and you eye the time on your phone. “I don’t have time to figure out how you got here. I have school and need to go in fifteen minutes.” 

“Out of all the days I somehow show up, it’s on a school day?” Fives remarks. You pick through your closet, frantically pulling out a pair of clothes and shutting yourself in so Fives doesn’t see. “I have a big test, it’s first block and I’ve gotta walk to school.” You pull on your shirt and trousers, emerging from the closet with a frown. “I can’t be late, but I can’t just leave you here.”

“Should I, I don’t know, go with you?” 

“You’re not enrolled in school,” you reach for a brush and Fives can only stare in awe as you run it through your locks. “I’m not sure what to--” You pause, placing your brush down with a sigh. “Oh right.” 

“What do you mean, ‘oh right?” 

“Global pandemic. I have online school. On the bright side, my parents are away. They’ve been quarantined in another state for work reasons.” Fives suddenly feels very dumb. He recalled you talking about ‘COVID-19 ‘ and how it’s a bit like the Blue Shadow Virus. “School doesn’t start until another two hours, so why is my alarm on for six o’clock?” You power on your phone, switching through the alarms and disabling the ones you don’t need with a shake of your head. Fives is mesmerized. He likes how thin the device is, and how it fits in your sweater pocket like a piece of flimsi. 

You crawl around him, cuddling into your bed as he simply watches. “You’re going back to sleep?” You nod, placing your phone on its charger and closing your eyes. “We’ll figure out how you got here soon enough, and it’s not like there’s anything better to do.” Fives stares at your bed uncertainly. Was it really okay? You were a girl, after all, and this was your room. You beckon him over, and that’s when he decides to lie down. 

Sleeping in a bed couldn’t hurt anyway. And besides, he’s known you for a long time (how long, he’s unsure). He can’t help but note how humongous your bed is compared to the ones in the barracks on the Resolute. It’s so soft, and he feels like he’s laying down on clouds. 

“I’m jealous. Your bed’s really big and comfy. The boys would kill to sleep on something like this.” You smile, throwing your thick blankets on top of Fives. He’s about to say something, but you’re already asleep. It appals him how fast you’d done so, and again, he’s just the tiniest bit jealous. But that soon goes away as he relaxes into the soft blankets, savouring the warmth and comfort they provided. 

He doesn’t dream, and neither do you. 

You wake up to the sound of your alarm blaring, and it takes you every single bit of strength left in your body to slide it off. “Urgh.” You flop down and Fives lazily turns to face you. He opens his eyes, blinking the sleep away with a yawn. “Your bed is amazing.” You grin, climbing out of bed as Fives cuddles into your sheets. “I know, right?”

You open your laptop and log into Google classroom. Zoom awaits you, and it’s the first thing you open along with your quiz work. You sigh, begrudgingly turning on your camera as it starts.

“Good morning everyone.” your teacher says with a smile. “How is everyone doing today?” It’s awkwardly silent for a few moments before someone quietly says ‘good’. You wait for someone else to respond, but it’s silent again. Fives glances over at your computer. He silently crawls out of bed, carefully folding your blankets and ducking out of the camera’s view. 

“I guess everyone’s still asleep.” your teacher says with a chuckle. “The Zoom is open if you have any questions on the quiz. I’m not going to keep you here, so if you’d like, you can leave and get to work. You have until the end of the period.” You nod and exit out of the Zoom. Opening up the quiz, you scan over its contents. Your face begins to twist as you read through the problems, your stomach churning with unbelievable doubt. 

You were going to fail even though you spent all night studying.

“What even is this?” You scroll through the doc with a scowl, eyeing the equations and problems as if it were the scum of the Earth (which it was). “I’m going to fail. Wonderful.” Despite that, you get to work anyway, scribbling random numbers on a scrap piece of paper. Fives takes a seat on the chair next to you, curiously watching you work through the problems. 

“I thought you didn’t know how to do that.” 

“I don’t, but I’m trying to see if I can find the answers on the multiple choice questions through trial and error. If I get it wrong, then consider this test flunked.” Fives takes one glance at the paper you’re writing on and immediately regrets it. The equations look like a foreign language to him, with numbers and letters he wasn’t even sure could be possible. “That’s definitely not something they teach us on Kamino.” he says. “And stars am I glad for that.” 

You frown, scribbling out an equation with a groan. “I hate this!” Fives wishes he could help, but he doesn’t know how. Math isn’t something he’s done besides the basics of addition and subtraction. He knew decimals too, and a little bit about fractions, but that was all. It wasn’t enough to help you figure out how to use the equation  x = x0 + v0t.

“I feel really bad for you.” he muttered. You snorted. “I feel bad for me too.”

Fifteen minutes pass. Then twenty. Thirty. Forty. Forty-five....

“Done.” You typed in the last number and submitted the doc, running a hand through your hair as you did so. “I hate this class, but it’s required. Who even needs to know all this stuff anyway?” Fives doesn’t know how to respond, so he watches as you stress over your test. He had his own experiences of tests, but they were for ARC training, or drills he had to remember to keep himself alive on the battlefield. 

Like you said, this stuff was useless if you didn’t need it. 

The next three class flew by incredibly slowly. Fives didn’t have anything to do, so he watched you go about your day like it were a documentary. In a way, he found it interesting how simple yet complex your life was. You had six hours of school (which used to be seven before the pandemic), one lunch break around noon, and the rest of the day to finish assignments or relax. 

He envied how leisurely it was compared to his own life. You had free time to roam around the house or the neighbourhood once you were done, and a whole fridge full of flavourful foods he’s never even had once. Although your life was still stressful, it was lived in the bliss of never knowing the horrors of war.

“Okay, it’s lunch time.” you broke in with a relieved sigh. “Let’s go downstairs.” You opened the door. In Fives’s eyes, your house was a complete dream. “Wow. You have a nice house.” You smiled, leading him down the stairs. “It’s better than a barracks, that’s what. In most peoples’ eyes, my house is normal. It’s not too shabby, but not something you’d find in the town over.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Rich town. They’re known for the private schools--which are schools that cost money to be enrolled in. I go to a public school, but there’s really not much difference in the curriculums so it doesn’t matter to me. Save money, live better, Walmart.” Fives didn’t ask what a ‘Walmart’ is. As soon as you paused in front of the kitchen, he knew his jaw had hit the floor. 

There was a smug look in your eyes as you pulled a box of cereal out of the cabinet. “How about we eat a little bit of everything?” You tossed him the cereal box and he read the title. “That way you can experience it all.” Fives stared at the cereal box with furrowed brows. “���Kix’?” 

“I know right? Same name as your Kix.” 

Fives wasn’t a big fan of the cereal, but the candy you gave him? Force was that amazing. 

You both sat at the kitchen table, candy and chocolate wrappers everywhere. You’d clean up later, what mattered now was spending time with Fives before you figured out a way to get him home. “Isn’t it, I don’t know, lonely here?” he inquired. You fiddled with a candy wrapper, mindlessly scanning over it s ingredients. “I’m not sure. My parents are always away so I don’t see them much. I don’t have many friends and I don’t text them. I don’t really think I can say I’m lonely because I don’t know how it would feel to be lonely when I’m used to it.” 

Fives mulled over your lengthy answer thoughtfully. He thought about all his brothers, both the alive and fallen. He couldn’t imagine ever being separated from them, especially since he was around them 24/7. “Well for me,” he began, “I think I’d be lonely in such a big house. You know that I grew up around brothers, guess it’s all I’ve ever known. I’m never alone. I have my brothers.” 

You felt an equal sense of connection between yourself and Fives. Both of you did come from different worlds, but you understood not understanding something because that was what you were used to. You couldn’t imagine ever having people around while Fives couldn’t imagine being on his own. Slowly, you gathered the candy wrappers, depositing them in the rubbish bin before glancing at the clock. “I have two more classes.” Your voice was quiet. “You can hang around here if you want, I’ll be upstairs.” 

Fives winced to himself when you disappeared. He had hit a sore spot. 

Three days later, 14:20, Friday

“Done, done, and done. Happy Friday to you and happy Friday to me.” you mumbled to yourself with a sigh. You thanked whatever was out there for no homework and shrank into your chair. There was a ‘ping!’ from your phone and you checked your email. 

First Period Quiz: Marked

You frowned, tapping on the email anyway. Suddenly, you froze, eyes wide over the score displayed on the screen. 

25/100%

You failed. Well, of course you failed! You didn’t know a single thing on the stupid quiz anyway. A long sigh escaped your lips and you tossed your phone on your bed. You rested your head in your hands, heaving out deep breaths to steady out the shock. There were footsteps outside your door, and you didn’t need to see a face to know who it was. 

“What happened?” 

“That test this morning? Yeah, I failed. I studied all night, but it was useless anyway.” Fives didn’t miss the tremble in your voice. After being around so many brothers with trauma, he could identify that tone of voice in a heartbeat. Over these past three days, he learned a lot about you, and he knew you’d done the same. He found out that school was more important than anything to you. He surmised it was because of the pressure your parents put on your shoulders rather than something you chose to dedicate your heart to. He also found out your favourite colour was (f/c) and that you liked to (activity) and (activity).

On the contrary, you only learned about Fives’s habits and a few new things he liked to do or eat. He knew it was because he was, well, a fictional character in your world, but that was something he refused to dwell on (it’d give him an existential crisis). 

He took a seat by your side, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. You sniffled, and it was then that Fives knew he had to do something--fast. 

Tests weren’t something he personally cried about, but he had seen a few shinies do it in the past. “Hey, hey...” His voice was soft, gentle, like a warm breeze. “It’s okay. Can’t you, I don’t know, do a make-up test?” You shook your head sullenly. “No. My teacher doesn’t allow it.” 

“Oh.” He paused, rubbing circles on your back. “Well it’s not the end of the world, right? There will probably be more opportunities that can raise your grade.” 

“But I already have a ninety in that class!” You held back a few tears and raised your head. You couldn’t let Fives see you cry over something so pathetic. “I’m going to have an eighty-nine, and I can’t afford to do that! My mum wants me to go to Harvard, my dad wants me to go to MIT... Those are all IV League schools, the top of the top, and I can’t get there if I can’t keep my grades up. I--I just--I wish--” 

There’s another wave of tears that build up in your eyes and you bury your head in your arms. You heave out a shaky sigh as Fives scoots closer to you in support. You appreciate his presence, but you’re not sure he can really do anything to help you. He’s a soldier after all, not a professor from a university. He’s build differently, made differently, trained differently while you’re you. A teenager. A nobody who tries her best but can’t succeed. 

“My parents are going to be so mad at me. They’re going to...they’ll...” You know they won’t be home for at least another month, but that realisation is enough for the tears to burst and for you to start loudly sobbing. That test was the last to be submitted for the term, so even if you did try to persuade your teacher to allow you to do test-corrections, she would say no. You were going to have to accept a big, fat B on your report card. 

Fives doesn’t know what to say, but he knows that if Echo were here, he’d know exactly what to do. But Fives wasn’t Echo. He wasn’t good with words of comfort or really anything off the battlefield. He didn’t know this type of pain like you did. And so he asks the only thing he really can: “Is there anything I can do to help you?” 

You just want a shoulder to lean on, someone to physically be there for you after having no one for so many years. So Fives holds you, and you’ve never felt safer in his arms. He rocks you back and forth, hums a little song you know to be in Mando’a. What really matters is that he’s there, and that he has your back. No matter how different you both were, it was clear that pain could take shape in various forms. Some on larger scales than others. 

Fives knew that if he was you, he’d feel the same pain too. 

PT 2

[fortunatelycoldengineer]

Cloud Computing Quiz . . . . write your answer in the comment section https://bit.ly/3E1ywHp check Q.No.2 of the above link