#dunno i felt like writing something quick and dirty

[sword-dad-fukuzawa]

a letter to the sect leader of yunmeng jiang, undated

jiang cheng,

if you're reading this, i'm dead.

haha! just kidding. i've always wanted to start a letter off with that, you know. if you're reading this, i'm probably incapacitated. or soon-to-be-dead. a dead man walking, if you will. i'm sure you'll appreciate the irony.

but anyway, i've told the wens that if you come knocking while i'm away--and it's just you, not you with a whole horde of cultivators behind you trying to break down the gates--that they should give you this. think of it as my last will and testament if you'd like. or if that's too depressing (and i know you, chengcheng. as much as i'd like to think you hate me too much, and as much as you'd like me to think you don't feel things like sadness and grief) then you can think of it as a request. that's all. i'm going to burden you one last time, alright? as your shixiong, i'm asking you for a favor.

there's a child among the wen refugees. we call him a-yuan. he's round-cheeked and as sweet of a baby as even a grump like you could ask for. he likes radishes and chili oil and i can never buy enough to feed him these days.

in the event that i can't take care of him, i'd like you to find someone who can--someone who will. and it doesn't have to be you. i know you're busy trying to rebuild yunmeng jiang and look after shijie besides, especially since koi tower is a den of snakes these days. he's probably got cultivation potential, but you mustn't think you have to find him a cultivator family to raise him. just someone kind, who won't ask what his real last name is or who's been raising him these last few years. someone who can love him for me when i'm gone. and you know as well as i do that my time is running out.

that's all. give my love to shijie, won't you? and make sure you're eating enough. heaven knows you don't eat enough when you're stressed, and i don't think i've seen you relaxed in years.

yours,

wei wuxian

(the feared yiling laozu and grandmaster of demonic cultivation, first of his reign and most powerful, esteemed emperor of the burial mounds)

[adidastain]

just like heaven

college matt stone x fem reader

warnings: smut (vaginal penetration)

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.), i really wanted to write something fluffy and kinda vanilla so sorry if it’s boring but i love it a lot i think it’s sweet

word count: 5240

—

Nothing was more relieving than getting in bed after a long day of classes and running errands. I’d been busting my ass the entire day, making sure everyone around me was happy and calm. It was what I did best, to be completely honest. I liked taking over. Sure, it made me kind of a bad collaborator, but I preferred to stay positive and think of it as one of my best qualities. Productive, stern, and leaderly. 

One of my classmates had a dorm to himself and had been letting me stay there for a while, since I lived off campus on paper, but didn’t have a car. We both majored in film; he double majored in math as well, and I was minoring in psychology. 

He was cool and funny. Sometimes he’d even say stuff that earned him a clock to the jaw, but regardless, I thought he was funny. And smart. He double majored; of course he was smart.

I sighed heavily, opening the heavy steel door to his dorm, labeled ‘MATT’ with a cute paper cutout of a kid wearing a ushanka and glasses showing a peace sign. It made me smile every time I saw it. His mind was so interesting.

To my surprise, the lights were on inside. He’d told me he was going to a little party in our other classmate’s building a few blocks away, so I didn’t think he’d be home.

“Oh, you’re here,” I said, taking my jacket off. 

“Unfortunately,” he said, grinning. His voice was deep and slightly nasally as always, with just a hint of raspiness. He sounded really tired. 

“What happened? I thought you were going to Trey’s party,” I said softly. I looked in the mirror on the back of the door, removing my hair clip and earrings. I didn’t want to waste any time getting to bed. 

“I just…” Matt swallowed, shifting in his seat in the beanbag on the floor. “I dunno. I changed my mind. Kinda exhausted.”

“I hear that,” I laughed, raising my eyebrows. There was some sort of old comedy movie on the little TV next to Matt’s bed. His whole dresser was covered in empty cans, dirty shot glasses with sticky syrup at the bottom, wrappers, deodorant, shit like that. I guess someone had been over and Matt was too tired to clean up the mess. “I’m gonna change real quick, don’t look.”

“Aw man,” he said, teasing me. I rolled my eyes and turned my back to him, pulling my sweater and tank top over my head all at once. I’d been wearing a sports bra all day and the elastic was starting to dig into my skin. I looked behind me, just to make sure he wasn’t trying to sneak any glances. Not that there was much to see. 

Lo and behold, as soon as I turned my head, I caught his turning too, back towards the TV. 

I grabbed a discarded T-shirt off the floor and swung it at him, hitting him a lot more violently than I really intended to. “You are such a pervert!” I laughed.

“I wasn’t trying to look at you!” he shrieked. I hit him again. “I thought I heard someone at the door!”

“A pervert and a liar!” I accused. Matt stood up, trying to defend himself from my wrath as I exacted my revenge. He yelped and grabbed my wrists, pushing back against me. 

We play-fought like this often. He was a lot stronger than me. He may not have looked like it, being so slim, but he was fit underneath all that fabric he was drowning in. Especially his arms. We’d go on and on, until it felt awkward and drawn out. 

Of course, by doing this, I’d ended up giving him a free show anyway. He’d definitely seen me changing before. Matt had walked in on me on several occasions, but it was mostly my fault, since I would come and go in his dorm without saying anything. He didn’t seem to have a problem, though. 

I bit my lip, pushing against his weight with all my might. He pretty much towered over me and my hands were engulfed in his large ones. He probably wasn’t even using half of his strength on me. 

Suddenly, he let go of my hands, causing me to fall forward slightly. I lost my balance until I felt his arms wrap tightly around my torso, before he lifted me up and pushed me onto his bed and walked away. 

He giggled to himself as he stepped towards his little mini refrigerator to grab a can of soda. I felt slightly warm inside; something about the way he was able to just lift me up and throw me down so easily made my face burn up. 

Of course, Matt acted like it was nothing and sat back down in his beanbag, one of his hands idly rubbing the fuzzy fabric cover with his thumb and index finger. 

I scoffed loudly and stood back up, blocking his view of the TV. My hand politely took the soda can out of his hand, watching his eyes follow it as I brought it to my lips and took a long, long sip. He just stared up at me, but he didn’t look in any way offended. He just looked completely awestruck, a puppy-eyed look ever present in his face. 

I put the soda down on the dresser so that he’d have to get up to get it, and went back to changing. I faced the TV so I could keep a hawk’s eye on him as I peeled off my jeans, rendering me in just my bra and panties which didn’t match at all. 

I heard him grunt slightly as he stood up to grab his soda off of the dresser. He turned around to face me, until he stopped dead in his tracks and his smirk was wiped clean off his face. 

After a second or two of him taking in as much of the sight as he could, his hand flew over his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he whined. “I was gonna play a prank on you. Didn’t know you were changing again. ‘M sorry.” 

“I don’t care, Matt,” I sighed in defeat. “I practically live here now. You were gonna see me half-naked at some point anyhow.”

Hesitantly, he lowered his hand, keeping his gaze on the floor. It was strange; he didn’t sit back down. 

“Just don’t let me find any of my clothes in your bed or I’ll punch you hard enough to turn your teeth into bullets,” I said. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, focusing on my task at hand once more. I dug through my big duffel bag to look for a clean shirt to sleep in, only finding a bunch of dress clothes that I hadn’t yet needed to wear. Right. I sighed. They’re in the wash. 

“Could I borrow a shirt?” I asked. Matt was sitting once more, rubbing the back of his neck and gently tugging on some of his curls. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, glancing at me again. That ‘glance’ turned into more of a ‘good look’. My back was turned to him again and I pretty much had my ass on full display. 

I don’t know when he looked away. I don’t actually know if he looked away at all. I just dug through his closet, trying to find the biggest T-shirt he had. 

It wasn’t uncommon for me to borrow his clothes. My duffel bag had initially only had enough clothes for 2 weeks, so I did laundry quite often and sometimes had to wear the same pants multiple days in a row. When I felt extra lazy and put off doing laundry, he let me borrow shirts, hoodies, sweatpants, pajama pants, the whole shabang. 

I picked out one of his Primus tees that had some fucked up linework drawing of a prostitute smoking a hooka. It was a sick shirt but it definitely wasn’t something you could wear to class. 

It fit me like a dress, which I loved. It was big enough that the hem covered most of my ass, which was good, because I didn’t have any clean shorts to sleep in unless I stole a pair of his. 

Lastly, I pulled my bra off from under my shirt and tossed it towards the door, where I threw most of my dirty clothes. Once I was finished, I turned back around and stood next to where Matt was sitting. 

“Scoot over,” I said. He quickly obliged. It was a pretty big beanbag, so we could both fit as long as we were shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. I must admit that there had been a night or two where we would end up entangled in some way due to the lack of space. My legs in his lap, my head on his shoulder, his arm resting up behind me. 

There was nothing I didn’t like about being close to him. He made me feel safe and he smell good and was warm. Some nights I hoped he’d be in the mood for having me real close. I hoped really hard now, especially after what just happened. 

“What are we watching?” I asked, making myself nice and comfortable and curling up next to him. 

“Groundhog Day,” he said, tilting his head back slightly so he could speak through the soda in his mouth. I looked at him for a moment, watching the muscles in his neck move as he swallowed the liquid. Then I turned my attention to the screen. “You missed the beginning, but basically he’s stuck living the same day over and over again. It’s like, a big allegory or whatever for Buddhism. Pretty good, though”

I nodded, watching as the Bill Murray character talked to a woman and asked her out on a date. A few seconds later, there was a smash cut to them on the verge of having sex. Matt awkwardly laughed next to me.

“Ah, yeah. Buddhism,” I said, mocking him. 

“You’ll like it. It gets better,” he argued. That’s when I felt his arm snake behind me, just a few inches away from laying across my shoulder. Once again, he rubbed the fabric between his fingers, fidgeting. 

Eventually the whole foreplay bit was over and the next scene started. My body subconsciously leaned into Matt’s, sinking my weight into his slim torso and absorbing the warmth that his body generated. I was both extremely comfortable and extremely exhausted. 

The movie went on, and like Matt said, the character was living the same day over and over. It was kind of lulling me to sleep. It was definitely pretty funny; occasionally I would jerk awake at the sound of Matt chuckling softly. I think at some point he pulled a blanket off his bed and wrapped it around me. I swear he ran his hand through my hair for just a moment, pulling me closer to him. 

Now his arm was wrapped around my shoulder, his hand occasionally lifting up to run his fingers through my hair or flatten any stray strands. It felt safe; it felt right. 

I opened my eyes and looked up at him, finding that his gaze was already on me. He looked like a deer in headlights, but exhausted at the same time. I watched Matt’s eyes dart around my face. 

“You ready for bed?” he asked softly, looking at the top of my head as he fixed a strand of my hair. 

One of my favorite parts about him was that he could be harsh and gentle, depending on the occasion. He always had a resting bitch face and was kind of intimidating to a lot of people, but he had such a soft, gentle side to him. 

My hand made its way up to his cheek. Matt had a nice, soft layer of peach fuzz that, paired with the warmth of his face, made my heart beat faster. My thumb tenderly traced back and forth on his cheek bone while my eyes fixated on his lips. 

Eventually, I felt his breath on my face as he closed his lips over my bottom one. I’d been biting the skin off of it all week, so there was a small stinging sensation that quickly faded once he kissed me again. 

I felt so shy all the sudden. Here I was, curled up in his arms, softly making out with him like teenagers with no experience. No second guesses or hesitations, just hearts beating together, breaths melting into each other while we explored. 

How did we get here? The question crossed my mind before I immediately pushed it away. I didn’t give a shit about how we got there, I was just glad that this is where we ended up. 

Without pulling his lips away from me, Matt somehow managed to find the remote and turn off the TV, before caressing my waist and pulling me ever closer. He was hovering over me a little, only making my heart race faster and my desire for him grow stronger. 

Now things were definitely starting to heat up. Matt softly groaned into my mouth, and for the first time since our lips first met, we pulled away. 

His eyes bored into mine, pupils dilated. We sat breathing into each others mouths, catching our breath as we tried to read what the other was thinking. It was almost suspenseful. 

“Can I take your shirt off?” I asked. It wasn’t even a whisper. Nope. I just breathed and moved my mouth to form the words. 

“Uh-huh,” he responded, nodding. He swallowed and I didn’t hesitate to tuck my hands under the hem of his baggy gray-green T-shirt. Matt kissed me again, deepening it. 

In an instant, his lips parted and he gasped softly as soon as my fingertips made contact with the warm skin of his abdomen. I could feel that part of his torso shifting ever so slightly as he breathed. 

I pulled away, making sure to keep eye contact with him while I slowly lifted his shirt up inch by inch. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” he exhaled, catching me off guard. I swallowed, feeling my face flush once again. 

A second or two later, I pulled the fabric over his head, finally rendering him topless in front of me. He had a slender, curvy waist and just the smallest little bit of muscle in his abdomen. His hips were prominent, and his upper body was very broad in contrast to his slim frame. He had little dark beauty spot freckles scattered across his shoulders and body. I would love to sit there all day and just count them. I wanted badly to just map out and explore his body, feeling every inch of his skin and memorizing his shape. 

I snapped out of my trance as soon as he kissed me again, letting out several vocal breaths that I honestly didn’t expect to ever hear him make. He remained gentle in his kisses, but I felt the desire boiling and festering within both of us. It was extremely hard to ignore. 

“Do you wanna stop?” I asked, pulling away suddenly. 

“Do you wanna stop?” he repeated, his voice somewhat nervous. Matt swallowed and scanned my face. 

“No,” I whispered. I wrapped my arms around his neck, taking one of his curls between my fingers. 

Matt licked his lips. I could feel his whole body relax, and he leaned closer, ghosting his lips against mine. 

“Do you wanna have sex with me?” he asked shyly, staring down at my lips. My stomach flipped and felt a strong jumping-like feeling in between my legs. 

“I would like that a lot,” I answered, giggling wide eyes. I was so flustered that I was to the point where I laughed at myself. 

“Fuck yeah,” he laughed, out of breath. Matt leaned in to kiss me again, this time opening his mouth slightly wider. “Should we go up there?” 

He tilted his head towards the bed next us, and I nodded, wrapping my legs around his torso so he could pick me up.

“Mmh… c’mere baby,” he hummed softly, pressing my body against his as he lifted me up and tenderly laid me down beneath him on his bed. 

Matt suddenly felt so much bigger than me now that his body was hovering over me. He was straddling my hips, both of his large hands massaging my waist under my (his) shirt while he started leaving wet kisses down my neck. 

I arched my back at the feeling of his teeth as they pinched a small spot below my ear, his tongue coming quickly to the rescue to warm up the spot and relieve the pain. My hands were entangled in his soft, somewhat messy curls, caressing his entire head and holding it close to me. I stared at the ceiling, letting my eyes flutter shut any time I heard him groan and felt his hips subtly buck above me. 

“How about your shirt, baby?” he asked, nibbling on my ear. I could hear him breathing heavily through his nose, each warm exhale covering my ear and neck. One of his hands slid up my body and grazed the underside crease of my boobs with his fingertips. 

“You mean your shirt,” I giggled, rubbing his warm shoulders.

“Okay, my shirt,” he scoffed. “Can I take it off?”

I nodded, sitting up slightly. As soon as his hands lifted the fabric up and over my nipples, I panicked slightly. In no time the shirt was on the floor and Matt’s eyes were tentatively glued to my bare chest.  

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna fuck you so good…” he mumbled, prying his eyes away from my now nearly naked body. His hands squeezed my hips, lifting them up so he could start grinding against me. 

“Matt-“ I gasped. His hot mouth almost immediately attached to my collarbone, his tongue pressing flat against the skin. Meanwhile, I shivered as one of his hands slowly dragged up my waist and tenderly caressed one of my tits. And on top of that, for the first time, I could feel the tent he’d been pitching press into me as he started grinding against my hips with desperation. 

I ran my fingers through his hair and lifted my hips up, supported by my heels digging into the soft covers below me. My hands slid down over his shoulder blades, tracing each muscle as I moved them towards my panties. Finally, I managed to wriggle out of them and fling them onto the floor while Matt was sitting on his knees, towering over me. His broad chest moved in and out with each heavy breath he took with his lips slightly agape. 

He looked like one of those ancient Greek statues. Each muscle so defined under such smooth, warm skin. Natural posture so relaxed and almost ethereal. I wanted to devour him. 

Matt stared at me, the look in his eyes almost anxious but infinitely flustered and filled with lust. In a flash he yanked his flannel pajama pants down to his knees, kicking them off while he crawled on top of me again.!

“Do you like it fast or hard?” he asked me, his voice faltering slightly. He swallowed, looking down at me from above. Matt’s arms were on either side of me, propping his body up as he then got ready to start pulling his boxers off. 

“Fast,” I exhaled, though it really sounded more like a moan. Even subconsciously I wanted him to know that right now, I wanted him more than anything. 

“‘Course, baby,” he hummed softly, bending his arms like he was doing a pushup so he could peck my lips. I felt him smiling in the kiss. “Do you wanna… get me going?” 

He gestured towards his boxers and the hot, throbbing erection beneath them. Without hesitation, I spit in my palm and slipped my fingers under the waistband of his boxers, first untucking his cock from the side and then gently wrapping my hand around it. 

Matt immediately whimpered, holding in as much of it as he could while screwing his eyes shut. He felt so warm in my hand… and thick. I could feel a vein or two protruding from the soft skin and made sure to pay a little extra attention to them. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, letting his head drop down so he could see what wonders I was working with my hand. He shimmied out of his boxers and now I could see that yes, he was in fact thick. Most definitely thicker than I knew I was used to. 

I knew it was going to hurt like a bitch. It was intimidating, but still, as I tenderly stroked up and down his length, I only kept thinking of it as something that was making him feel insanely good and not as something that was going to hurt me. It would only hurt for a few seconds. 

His breath hitched and he practically threw my hand off him, sitting up again to catch his breath for a moment. 

“Jesus Christ,” he laughed, out of breath. Matt raised his eyebrows and smiled. His cheeks were so flushed and it looked like some sweat pearls had begun forming at his temples. 

I laid back, watching his muscles shift and flex as he took his glasses off and reached inside one of his dresser drawers for a condom. 

As he tore open the package, he looked at me, seemingly getting lost in the sight of me. 

I grabbed the hand of his that held the unopened condom and brought it close to my face so that I could kiss it. Then I pushed his hand back towards him so he could do the same, though he looked thoroughly confused.

“What, is that good luck or something?” he chuckled, looking down at his hands and dick as he opened the condom and slid it onto his length.

“It’s tradition,” I said, shrugging. Matt furrowed his eyebrows. 

“What tradition?” he scoffed, crawling on top of me. 

“Messing with you. I made it up,” I grinned. 

He shook his head, adjusting his position and posture while handling his cock, making sure it would slide in easy. 

Matt looked up at me through his eyebrows. It was the last look of reassurance before anything was really about to happen. Our lives were about to change forever. 

I nodded. I was so desperate for him at this point, I didn’t care if he hurt me at all. 

His large hand spread out on one side of my hips, digging into the flesh ever so slightly and likely leaving faint nail marks in my skin. I kept my eyes on him and found him instructing me to take a deep breath in with him. Before he told me to exhale though, he started pushing in. 

“Hmmn- ahh!” I half-moaned, half-winced. 

“Shh… oh, fuck,” Matt whispered in my ear, letting out a deep moan that’s he’s probably kept inside for a little while. 

I let out a groan of discomfort, trying my best to hold it in but ultimately failing. In response, Matt pulled his lips away from my ear so he could get a good look at my face.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, swallowing. 

“Mhm,” I hummed, biting my lip. I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the feeling of Matt’s fingertips brushing my hair out of my face. “Just give me a minute.” 

Matt lowered himself on top of me, beginning to pepper soft, wet kisses on my jaw and neck. His hand massaged my hip and occasionally inched lower to squeeze the soft flesh of my upper thigh. 

I kissed him and became lost in his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him close to me. His curls tickled my forehead as we kissed softly. I’d completely forgotten about the fact the he was inside of me; I was so focused on how his lips felt and the fact that I could feel his heart pounding with his chest pressed against mine. Our skin grazed together softly with each breath we took, giving me goosebumps. 

“You can start now,” I whispered against his lips. Matt hummed in response, kissing me a little bit deeper as he adjusted the position of his body. 

We remained with our lips attached as his hips started to roll back and forth. I could hear Matt whimper every couple of seconds and he kept holding his breath, pulling away from the kiss to exhale into my mouth. The warmth in the pit of my stomach really started to boil up once he started moving, slowly drawing himself out and thrusting back in. I listened carefully to each little sound and breath he made as he moved. 

I heard him heavily exhale after swallowing. “S’good…” he whispered, grunting slightly. I moaned, running my fingers in his hair and tugging on it gently. 

A loud groan escaped his throat as I did this, encouraging me to do it again. One of his hands suddenly wrapped tenderly around my throat, carefully squeezing my neck. Matt’s head cocked to the side as he opened his mouth and slid his tongue in between my lips. 

I let out a soft moan as his tongue slid against mine, exploring the inside of my mouth with hunger and desperation. I let my hands travel from his head and neck down to his body, caressing his waist and pulling him into me. Matt’s hand left my hip, instead moving up to grip the top of the headboard of his bed, holding it to keep it from knocking against the wall each time we moved. 

He leaned down to let his forehead rest against mine, staring into my eyes. I stared right back. I’d never seen him without his round silver glasses before, but I knew he had a stunning set of dark green eyes and now I could see each little spec of blue in them as they darted around my face, almost nervously. 

His free hand moved to cup one of my tits, rolling his fingers over my nipple to tease the sensitive area. I gasped slightly, arching my back. 

“You have no idea how perfect you look right now,” he exhaled. 

I couldn’t do or say anything else but smile. I always had that reaction when he complimented me, but I was much more used to him saying something about my clothes or my work. His voice always sounded so deep and smooth; to hear him say my name or something nice about how I looked always sent my blood rushing to my cheeks.

“I’m close,” I whispered, touching his chest. 

“Faster?” he hummed. 

“Yeah,” I laughed slightly. 

Before moving again, he adjusted his position, letting go of the headboard. He propped himself up and licked the thumb of his free hand, before lowering it and using it to massage slow circles around my clit. Matt’s body was hovering above me when he bowed his head to start kissing the crook of my neck. Only then did he start thrusting once more, rolling his hips faster and faster. 

The new sensation along with the added pleasure of his fingers working my clit had me in shambles. I threw my head back and let out a loud moan, succumbing to the electrifying, hot sensation that festered throughout my entire body. The pit of my stomach tightened, my legs trembled, my hands gripped anything they could touch. I dig my fingertips into the sheets, his back and shoulders, his biceps, his waist, his scalp. Several times did I pull on his hair like I was holding on for dear life, earning a groan from him each time. I just hoped I wasn’t hurting him. 

Matt let out a loud moan. I opened my eyes to see him struggling to thrust at a consistent pace, faltering every few seconds with his eyes screwed shut and his mouth agape. I watched him look down to see himself pumping in and out of me, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip tucked under his front teeth. 

He whimpered, trying his best to hold his breath. The sight of him rushing toward his own orgasm sent me over the edge. I cried out his name, gasping as every muscle in my body tensed up. The knot in my stomach came undone and I could feel my blood pumping through my body. 

Only a moment or two later did Matt’s body shudder and tense up. His muscles flexed as he leaned forward and tried his hardest to keep his hips moving, but he was ultimately overcome by his orgasm as he came, my name spilling from his mouth in the most beautiful way. 

I huffed, my body melting into his bed as my legs twitched and trembled. Matt collapsed on top of me, allowing his entire weight to sink into me. His arms were shaking, as if he were shivering. We both laid there for a minute, absorbing each other as we caught our breath. 

I think he fell asleep after a minute or two. He was completely relaxed on top of me like a big bag of sand. After a little while, my breaths became forceful, so I had to wake him up.

“Matt,” I hummed, tucking a strand of his hair behind my ear. 

He wasn’t sleeping. Matt lifted himself up, smiling down at me. He kissed me, seeming quite shy all the sudden as he had to hold his weight up while he leaned his head down towards me. 

“Sorry about these bruises,” he hummed, tracing a circle on the side of my neck.

“You’re not sorry,” I grinned, teasing him. 

“I’m not,” he admitted sheepishly. “They look good on you.” 

After a few seconds, we sat up and helped clean each other up a little. I could see small red marks in his skin from where my nails dug into his arms and shoulders. While helping each other get dressed again, Matt and I found ourselves a little distracted once more, kissing each other gently and softly as we pulled shirts over our heads. His lips were like air. I almost needed them to breathe. 

“Do you wanna finish the movie?” I asked him, massaging his waist underneath his shirt. 

“Sure,” he giggled softly. 

With that, we snuggled up under the covers in his bed, turning the TV towards us. Matt had me in his arms with my back pressed to his chest and his hand under my shirt, tracing shapes on my skin. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep. 

However, at one point, I opened my eyes to find that the TV and lights were off, rendering the room completely dark. Matt was no longer next to me, but it wasn’t long before he came back over to the bed and laid down behind me. His lips softly grazed the crook of my neck. “Good night,” he whispered, before kissing my neck one more time. 

“Mm… night,” I mumbled, barely awake. Matt pulled his thick pile of blankets over my shoulder, peppering small pecks of kisses on my neck as I drifted off once again, melting in his warmth. 

[renata-has-thoughts]

W/c: 1.4k Pairing: Female Reader x Tyler Durden Includes: NSFW, Service dom Tyler, incredibly horny/needy Tyler (couldn’t help myself haha), dubcon b/c drunk Tyler, fingering (reader receiving), dirty talk, Tyler begging, dubcon b/c Tyler begs (but reader is into it), insinuations of oral sex.

A/n: Something short for today. She was yowling while I was writing this I stg. Either ‘version’ of Tyler can be imagined, as I didn’t use physical descriptors for him. Please check the tags, as this is sort of dubious in nature, but both are into it. Irl, don’t do this. Pls. Per usual, no minors (obviously). Enjoy.

You didn’t participate in Fight Club. But dating the founder and leader of it meant you had the general idea of what went down. The rules were easy. Don’t talk about it, two men to a fight, so on and so forth. Another thing you knew: Tyler had gotten into the recent habit of taking a shot for every time he fought during a night of Fight Club prior to coming home for the evening. By that logic, tonight he must’ve been really pent up.

This occurred to you the very second Tyler walked through the door of your shared home. You knew him well, but you didn’t have to have any context to his behavior to know he was more than tipsy. Anyone with eyesight could tell you that.

It must’ve been about eleven or twelve, and you were pouring yourself a glass of water in the kitchen before calling it a night. You heard the clattering of keys from the door, and a muffled curse from a familiar voice. Typical Tyler.

A beat passed, and the blundering idiot finally figured out how to work the keys and get into the house, emerging with a groggy, “Honey, I’m h-home!”

You glanced over your shoulder to see him stumble into the kitchen, and promptly catch himself on the wall.

“Uhm, hi, Tyler,” you said, trying to fight the urge to smile.

“Good…eveni…hi,” he coughed, arching his back against his slumped position on the wall, moaning without shame when he cracked it just right.

From this motion, you could see something obvious. The poor bastard had a raging hard-on.

“Did Fight Club go well?” You asked, forgoing your prior activities to turn and face him, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed.

He didn’t answer for a moment, nodded drearily, then suddenly,

“I’m so fuckin’…hnghh…horny f-for you,” he growled, grimacing as he bucked his hips against nothing.

You raised your eyebrows, giving him an incredulous look, sparing your eyes to dart obviously from his own, to his erection, and back.

“You don’t say.”

“Oh, you’re such a teasee…fuck-you look,” he swallowed harshly, walking unevenly to the scratched-up table a few feet before you which acted as a mock counter island.

“I look…?” You prompted, biting your lip in an effort to not burst out laughing.

“I-fetching,” he managed to get out.

“Fetching?” You clarified. At this point it was getting difficult to not succumb to a fit of giggles. That was a new word for him. And to use it when you’re just in a pair of cotton shorts and some t-shirt?

“I dunno, fuckable, so…hah, so hot,” he sniffed, snatching up a loose pen from the table and proceeding to dance it across his knuckles.

It was a common stim for him-drunk or not-to fiddle with a pen. He was actually rather impressive with it, too. With the way he focused so intently on it at that moment, you felt like he was an exotic bird trying to coax in a mate. A futile display to try and get you to find him more enticing.

“Do you like how my…my fingers work, hmm?” He muttered, sparing a quick look up to your steady gaze on his hands. “Do you like how quick I am with ‘em? You…you wann’em up y-your pussy? Curling and pushing in and out, up ‘n down…in and…fuck.” He dropped the pen and frowned.

You unintentionally got a bit turned on from his murmurs of fingering you, to be honest. He was so desperate for you-his only focus-even subconsciously. The attention made you avert your eyes. Despite his clear desires, he was probably worn out from fighting and shouldn’t worry about fucking you. But you couldn’t help crossing one leg over another.

He took notice of this move, and stepped closer, cornering you against the counter.

“Do you want me? Want me t-to fuck you?” His hips were dangerously close to yours.

“You’re drunk, Tyler,”

“I’m not…’n even if I was, I always wanna fuck you when ‘m so-ngh-…not drunk, too.” He wasn’t wrong in saying that. The man was always horny. He closed the distance and pushed his groin against yours.

Oh, whatever. Damn it all. You threw your head back and moaned. Who wouldn’t?

“Tyler, you-“ you fought one last time, trying to retain some dignity. Deep down, though-in fact, not really deep down at all-you wanted him so bad.

“Please, say yes, ple-pleaasee…” He choked out, dipping his head in proximity to your neck.

“Okay, yeah, but-but just hand stuff-“ you managed before he crashed his lips onto your jawline, kissing and biting with the need of a starved man. He was practically growling with lust.

“We should…go to the bedroom, Ty,”

“N-ngh-noo, lemme take you on the c-counter…” he whined, grumbled against your skin as he continued to mouth all over you.

“Mmm…fine,” you sighed, a small grin on your face as you smoothed out his hair.

With that, he hooked his arms under your knees and hoisted you up onto the counter. You instinctually propped yourself up with your elbows.

Quickly, but clumsily, he slid off your shorts, exposing how wet you already were.

“Y’want my fingers? In you?”

“I said ‘hand stuff’, didn’t I?”

His hands curved up your thighs, pulling them apart so he could have better access to you.

“This ‘s what I’ve wanted all night…” he moaned, fingering along your slit.

“Christ, Tyler..shit!…” you moaned with him, clenching your eyes closed as a result of the stimulation.

“Wan’ my fingers to rub all over your cli-?”

“Yes, Tyler, just, fucking fuck me already!”

“Ahh, that’s what I like…” he growled, pumping two fingers in, easily due to your wetness, letting his thumb rest on your clit.

You mumbled a slurry of ‘yes’s incoherently when he began to thrust his fingers in and out of you, just as he had promised. His thumb inadvertently moved up and down on your clit as a wonderful consequence of his ministrations.

“Mmm, I knew you’d like this..,” Tyler groaned, quickly kissing the inside of one of your thighs as he picked up the pace.

“You’re too damn good, Ty, h-how could I not..?” You stuttered amidst broken noises.

“You think this ‘s good? Just you…heh, just you wait…” he groaned before curling up his fingers with each pump, grazing perfectly over your g-spot every time.

“Oh, Tyler, oh fuck! Yes!” You winced, fighting to keep your eyes from closing shut so you could look down at him.

For a quick beat, he made eye contact with you, and shot you a devious, drunken grin. It was both adorable and also very, very hot.

You barely noticed his erection against one of your legs as he got himself off on it, his small whimpers mixing with yours in harmony.

Somehow, impossibly, he got faster. By nature, you clenched around his fingers, especially as he added a third one with a slight chuckle at your reaction.

“Oh, fuck you, Tyler, you jackass, fuck that-feels-“ you couldn’t finish your sentence when his thumb, already rubbing on your clit, started circling it, too.

“Feels good?”

You nodded with desperate feverence.

By some fantastic talent, he didn’t let up, enjoying your moans and their ever-increasing pitch as he worked at what he was lusting over for so long.

“You gonna cum? Pleaseee tell me your gonna cum, I wanna with you-I wanna cum with you,” he droned, whining.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll cum with you, Tyler, don’t let up,”

“I wasn’t, fuck, I wasn’t planning on it,”

You both moaned loudly, and one of your hands reached over and grabbed his shoulder, digging your nails into it as you came on his fingers. He wasn’t long behind you.

Your orgasm lasted a good amount of time, with Tyler expertly keeping the pace, only slowing down as your orgasm did. You didn’t even notice how he slid his groin off of your leg until it was off.

The first thing you said was with a laugh. “Did you cum in your pants, Tyler?”

“Could you’ve expected m-me not to…?”

His arms hooked under yours and he helped you back up onto your feet, still tingling from the climax.

“Do you wanna take this ‘nto the bedroom?” Tyler asked, still a bit tipsy and trying not to stumble over his words.

“What?”

“Whaddya mean ‘what’? ‘m not done with you,”

You placed your hand in his and bit your lip from a smile, letting him lead you.

“I know you said, l-like, hand stuff ‘n whatever, but…can I use my mouth on you? Please? I’ll be good, ‘n-“

“Yes, Tyler, you can,”

“Thanks.”

You forgot all about the water you originally went in to get.

-

End

-

Reposts and comments are more than appreciated

[dolletro]

Tender Moments

Hello everyone! Thank you for all the feedback! I really appreciate every single one ^^ I had this idea that lived in my head rent free for weeks now so i ended up writing it as a continuation for the other fanfic!I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing! Word Count: 1.6+k

Chilly breeze swayed the curtains despite the blinds being tightly shut. Through the small gaps golden sun rays tinted the walls and the posters and paper sheets you called "manga wall" that were plastered around your room. You must have forgotten to close the window after you opened it to let some fresh air in. To be fair, he couldn’t really feel the cold underneath the mountains of blankets you placed on him. Even your cats were nestled into his sides keeping him warm even more. Vergil's eyes scanned around to find your clock you always manage to relocate, only to realize that your phone was on the nightstand right next to him, along with a tray of food, a bottle of water, mug with something hot inside judging by the steam, a strange pill and a note dedicated to him.

"Went with my one and only babygirl because he wanted to wake you up for a job. 

I dunno if you like soups but that is all I was able to cook sorry! Also, the tea is herbal, not your usual choice of tea. Hope it tastes good, it should help with fever.

Eat, take in your medicine and hydrate and rest plenty!

Will be back in the evening... hopefully"

 He was grateful, yet he couldn’t help but feel like everything else other than the medicine on this tray felt a bit too excessive. You took your time to prepare a meal and tea for him, without knowing when he would wake up. Vergil took his time while he ate, enjoying the quiet atmosphere of your room. The stillness felt a tad bit out of the ordinary, although this was the third time he had ever stepped in, even then the first two times were to inform you about a quick change in the training schedule. He intended the third time to be just the same, but there he was, sick in your bed.

 With a sigh, he took the mug into his hand, carefully not to spill any on your blankets. The tea had quite an unfamiliar smell. He took one sip, it tasted sweet but at the same time there was a bitter tone to it. Vergil found it interesting, and somehow it reminded him of you. Maybe he was just associating now, since he was sure you were the one who brewed tea for him and not Dante; though you certainly asked for help from him, the soup was just a tad too salty; or maybe his fever was running high again.

He placed the now empty mug back on the tray, and he decided after taking the medicine in, getting more sleep would help him recover quicker.

—

 Vergil once again awakens to a soft rustling. When did he fall asleep? He could see Agni and Rudra resting and glowing next to the door, staying silent. You probably asked them to do so. Then, he noticed you. The shoes were still on your feet and the same clothes you probably went out in were now covered in blood, they must have been uncomfortable, yet the first thing you did when you came home was to wash your hand and check up on him. You tried to be as quiet as possible, he knew, by the way you slowly lowered yourself to his level to check his temperature with the back of your hand then your lips.

"Good. Hope you are having a nice dream." You were too focused on collecting the dirty dishes on the tray to notice that he, in fact, was awake. Your name rolled off of his tongue, quiet and hoarse earning a small but kind smile from you as you sat down on the bed next to him.

"How are you feeling Verge?" Quick to abandon the tray, you brushed the stray hair strands out of his eyes. Your fingers were cold against his burning, feverish cheeks.

"Certainly better than yesterday evening…" He slowly sat up. There was a twitch in your hands, he noticed. Perhaps you didn't like how close the two of you were currently seated, yet there was a slight doubt in his mind, as your eyes were plastered on his fingers and the back of his hand. The room was so silent he could hear how your heartbeat quickened just for a short while. Hesitance was apparent in your stature, as if you wanted to say, or do something but were afraid to do so.

"I'm glad your fever has gone down a bit." You slowly and gingerly grabbed his right hand with both of yours. The ring on your middle finger is just barely cooling his skin. Refusing to meet his gaze you rubbed small circles on Vergil's palms, inspecting the small cuts and calluses he gathered over the years as a result of wielding a katana.

"I was a bit worried, you know…that is why I reassured you that it's okay to stay here." Like a mouse's, your voice was quiet and meek, a rare occasion truly. You had always been just a tad bit louder than an average human being, either not knowing when you were shouting or just completely ignoring it. Your shining personality showed well in how outspoken and easygoing you were with those who you think are important to you, your loved ones, be that family or friends, you certainly were ready to give everything you have. Yet now Vergil just realized, this is the other end, the kindness and the caring nature in you. The way you are now holding his hand so tightly, afraid, as if he would be gone in a blink of an eye. If he had to be completely transparent, he never really paid any mind to your gentle touches in the past few months, but recently it became quite evident how you caressed his back in a calming manner whenever Dante was being one big idiot, or the way you sat closer to him whenever you two happen to be reading on the worn out couch, as if you were gravitating towards him every time. 

 Speaking of his brother, now he was hyper aware of the difference between the way you shared skinship with Dante and between the way you did with him. Lingering fingers, asking for his attention without demanding anything, always soft, always warm.

 There was an itch, planted deep deep inside of his mind. What would it feel to initiate the kind of tender touches? Would you reciprocate it, or would you be in too much of a shock to even process it? Vergil had barely given himself enough time to mull over such things. In the past he deemed relationships as useless distractions, now since he just feels like he is undeserving of love. You always broke him out of his prison of thoughts, when he was internally beating himself up over the past and you never asked nor expected anything in return. For that Vergil is utterly grateful, since there cannot be such an item that could ever hold the same value as your reassuring, kind words, albeit sometimes they were masked with sarcasm.

 God and heavens above, he really does cherish you more than he could've ever thought.

 The blue devil didn’t know how long he was lost in his mind palace. Eyes grazed your features, just like they did yesterday. Today, for the first time, he let himself be pulled in by your presence.  His hands gingerly wandered on your arms, delicate shoulders and now cheeks, just as hesitantly as yours did before. They were certainly tinted with blush, something you always brushed away, too embarrassed to admit it. Yet now your sheepish smile and a glint in your eyes allowed him to experience such a thing.

 Neither of you dared to speak, afraid to ruin the tender and memorable moment between the two of you. Your heart was about to break out of your ribcage, this was something the both of you certainly noticed, although now Vergil was wondering if it was because you were nervous about it, or if it was just the affection you happen to receive from one and another. 

As if you wanted to change the, albeit unspoken, but obvious subject, you cleared your throat.

“How was the tea Verge?”

“It was…bitter.”

“You didn’t like it?” there was a tiny bit of panic noticeable in your eyes. Vergil shook his head and gently tightened his grip in your hands, reassuring that you didn’t do anything wrong.

“I did enjoy the tea itself, the taste just perhaps took me by surprise.”

“Sorry, I read nettle tea is good for a cold and the flu, so I thought maybe it would help with the fever too.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” 

“I should go clean up after that, I’ll leave you to rest.” you already missed the warmth Vergil’s hands provided as you stood up to your feet, checking the blankets if you got any demon blood on it or not. Your eyes fell on your console just for a brief moment, but you quickly averted it, thinking it would make too much noise. Those seconds were enough for Vergil to figure out what you were thinking about.

“Your games are the last thing that would honestly bother me at this point.” he said, giving attention to both cats as he was petting them.

“They slept like that all day?” you placed your hands on your hips, only now noticing the way your cats were nestled against the blue devil. Vergil nodded his head, while it was your time to shake yours, only now it was in disbelief.

“Honestly, why am I surprised?” and with that sweet chuckle you disappeared into the bathroom.

[shecagobaby]

Love of My Life: Home

Hi! So this is the first chapter of a Joseph fic I’ve been writing in my spare time.  I was originally just writing it for myself in the notes on my phone, but I have been encouraged to share. Honestly what started as an idea has turned into a full blown novel, so expect many chapters as I clean them up and proof read. 

Warnings: None really, just mentions of sex. Now, I know that those that wanted me to share wanted smut- but do not fret my loves, the next chapter will be absolute FILTH. It is just not quite ready, so this is just the appetizer. 

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x Y/N

Alright y’all, please be kind but I would also love feedback! (even if it’s just about the formatting, I haven’t posted in almost ten years, so I hope I’m doing this right. okay love you all enjoy)

________________________________________________________________

SEPT 2021

   Nothing was more beautiful than London in the fall.  The city was the same as it always was: heavy evening traffic, busy sidewalks, loud chattering as people headed home for the night. Even the familiar smell of beer and sweat that seeped out of the neighborhood pub was exactly the same. Yet something about crisp air and the changing trees made the most ordinary things unbelievably beautiful.

    I smiled to myself as a cool gust of wind sent a shiver up my spine. Even though I was leaving a long meeting with my publisher, where I received some semi-harsh critiques on my most recent chapter of my novel, I felt like I was living in a dream world. 

    This autumn felt especially dreamy since Joseph was going to be home in a matter of days.  He was scheduled to wrap filming ‘Stranger Things’ this week, so if things go smoothly he could potentially be back in my arms by the weekend.  Being away from him had been hell. We lived together, so we saw each other every day, and during quarantine we spent every second together. Although we still chatted every day while he was on set, whether it was a quick text or a late night phone call, it wasn’t the same. I hadn’t felt him, held him, kissed him in what felt like forever.  Our flat had lost his scent months ago. Each night I hugged his pillow, trying to get any indication that he was ever there.  

   The steamy pictures and unbelievably dirty words that would quietly leave his mouth on nights we especially missed each other were nothing compared to the real thing. My own fingers were nothing compared to his. I bit my lip as I thought about the things we would do to each other when he got back.

   I was pulled out of my thoughts when I felt my phone buzzing in my purse.  I sighed as I rooted around in my bag searching for my phone. My hands moved quickly, hoping it was Joseph calling on his break, absolutely giddy at the thought of filling him in on the dirty thoughts that had crept into my mind.

   I sighed when I noticed it was my best friend Tabitha, feeling a twinge of guilt at my disappointment when I saw her name instead of his. I groaned as I brought the phone to my ear, “hello?”

   “Y/N, babe, what are you doing tonight?” I heard her Liverpool accent say on the other end.

    I shrugged, “dunno, writing some, got some cleaning. Want the place to look nice when joseph gets back.”

    “When’d ya become such a domestic bird?”She laughed, “I say you fuck all that boring shit and come get a drink with me and the girls.”

  I rolled my eyes. Tabitha was always trying to get me to come out with them, but usually I would rather stay home. It used to be fun when I first moved to London . Tabitha was the first friend I made after moving here from Manhattan. We immediately took a liking to each other whilst waiting in line for the bathroom at some grimy club.  Once Joseph and I started dating, and especially when he left, going out with her became more of a chore, “ya know, the pub isn’t very fun when you all leave me to go hook up with random guys.”

   Over the last few months I hit the pub and clubs with them a handful of times, and it always turned into me bitching to Joe via phone call or text on the walk home because I was playing wing woman all night or they left me to chat up a guy at the bar.

   “Oi, they aren’t random if you met them on tinder,” she joked.

   “Oh yeah, what happened with the last guy?”

  “Gotta be more specific, love. Might have been a few shags ago.”

   I laughed at her promiscuous tendencies, while simultaneously feeling like an old maid. Tabitha was drop dead gorgeous: Great figure, huge tits, bright blue eyes, and long blonde hair.  The only down side to Tabitha was she had unbelievable commitment issues.  She would dissect every man she met until she found the tiniest reason to run for the hills.

   “The one that was buying us tequila shots last time, he had that long hair you said you wanted to French braid,” I  laughed remembering that night.

  “Ugh, gorgeous hair, gorgeous cock, but he had a bird for a pet, ya know one of the ones that talk.  He’d have full blown conversations with the damn thing.  Dunno, made me feel weird,” she groaned.

  I cackled, “C’mon, Tab, it’s not that weird. Lots of people have birds for pets.”

    “Babe, would you want to fuck a lad that walks around the house looking like jack god damn sparrow with a bloody bird on his shoulder?”

  I shook my head at the image in my mind, turning to walk up the steps that led to my building, “guess not.” I fumbled with my keys, holding the phone between my ear and my shoulder. I found the building key and put it in the lock, opening the door, “wouldn’t it shit on his shoulder?”

  “Dunno, but I wasn’t going to stick around to find out,” she said. I started walking up the steps, climbing to my warm apartment. “So are you gonna come or not, feels like it’s been ages since I’ve seen ya.”

  I sighed, “I don’t know yet, Tab. Been a long day, kind of want to be low key.”

  I got the key to the flat Joe and I shared as I reached our floor, walking to the door and unlocking it, “No you just want to sit around waiting for Joe to give you a call.”

   I rolled my eyes and smiled as i pushed the door open, she was not wrong about that. “Tab, you can’t blame me for missing my boyfriend, you’ve never had to do long distance.”

  “That’s because I don’t do relationships, can’t miss someone if it’s not serious.”

  As I entered the flat, I was enveloped by a warm sensation. It was much warmer than usual. I sighed, thinking about Tabitha’s offer. “Can I let you know?” I said shrugging off my purse and bending down to pet our dog, Mikey. I actually got Mikey when I was seventeen, long before I met Joseph.

   I couldn’t help but smile as I reminisced about the first time Joseph met Mikey:

   ‘Michelangelo? Like the painter?’ 

    ‘No, the ninja turtle.’ I said as I introduced my boyfriend to the dog I referred to as my son.

   “Hi, babe, had a good day?” I asked Mikey as I bent down to give him a few pets before he ran off. I furrowed my brows, usually Mikey would go crazy when I go home, but he did not want anything to do with me at the moment. 

      “Fine,” Tabbie said, I could feel her rolling her eyes through the phone, “Give my love to Michael. I’ll give you a call later, alright?”

  “Talk to ya then,” I said taking the phone away from my ear and hanging up. I slid out of my jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door.

  “Hey, love.”

  I gasped at the voice, whipping around to see my gorgeous boyfriend standing in the living room.

  I  froze, completely shocked. I blinked hard. Was this real? I stared at him, he was standing there with the fireplace going behind him. No wonder it was so warm, and it really explained why Mikey wasn’t interested in me. Often times I teased Joseph that he was in a relationship with my dog.

  “Surprised?” He said smiling at me.

  I felt like my heart was going to pop, tears pooled in my eyes. He was real, “oh my god, Joe.” I half screamed half sobbed as I spoke. I quickly moved to him. As I got closer he held his arms out for me.

  I collided with him, he wrapped me up in a loving hug, lifting me up as Mikey danced at our feet. I instinctually wrapped my legs around his waist, squeezing him tight against me while I buried my nose between his neck and shoulder. His familiar scent clouded my senses. No matter what cologne he wore, he always smelt the same: mahogany, cigarettes, and spearmint never smelt so delicious. I tangled my fingers into his soft curls, desperately trying to bring him closer.

  “I missed you so much,” he groaned into my neck, leaving a soft kiss there.

  I pulled away to look at him, the tears in my eyes spilling over. I brought one of my hands to his cheek, running my thumb over his beautiful features. He leaned into my touch and hummed, his bright brown eyes staring into mine.

  I couldn’t believe he was here. I leaned down to catch his lips in mine making butterflies erupt in my stomach. His soft lips felt like heaven against mine, i couldn’t believe I had almost forgotten what they tasted  like. I put both my hands on his cheeks and kissed him harder as tears continued to fall down my face.

  He broke the kiss to scan my face, “happy tears, yeah?” He whispered.

  I laughed, “yeah.” He set me down on the ground, keeping one hand around me and the other came to my face to wipe away my tears.  I placed my head to his chest, feeling his heart beat against my cheek.  “I missed you so fucking much,” I whispered.

  “I know, love. But I’m here, I’m back.” He sighed, resting his chin on the top of my head. Mikey let out a low bark as Joseph bent down to scoop him up in his arms, “Did you miss me, huh? Ya miss your dad?” my heart swelled, as I gave Mikey a few pets. Our little family was back together.

   We stood there like that for who knows how long. A few seconds, minutes, hours? Who could tell?

    He put Mikey back on the floor before he brought his hand to my chin, cupping it making me look at him. He leaned down to place a soft kiss to my lips. I hummed against his mouth and i felt him smile against mine. “I love you,” i breathed.

   “I love ya, too. So fucking much.” He said resting his forehead against mine.

   “How are you here?” I asked, running my hands down the soft fabric of his burnt orange shirt, biting my lip as I felt his warm skin underneath.

  His hands roamed my back, the pressure of his fingers felt amazing. His hands moved down and slipped into the back pockets of my jeans. His breath fanned over my face as he said, “I finished up two days ago, thought I would surprise my girl.”

  He placed a soft kiss to my forehead, “well it worked,” i sighed. “How’d you know i wouldn’t be home?”

  He chuckled, a silly grin lighting up his face. “Agnes, she called me when you were leaving.”

  I giggled and rolled my eyes. Agnes lived in our building. She was 76, had 4 corgi’s, and was incredibly nosy. She somehow managed to know everyone’s business before anyone else.  I swear the short woman just stood with her eyes glued to her peep hole, watching as everyone lived their lives. She was incredibly kind, but I always dreaded when she would be in the hallway at the same time as us.  She would stop us and fill us in on all the building gossip. I would always smile and now as she spoke; but I got the feeling that Joseph kind of liked gossiping with her, his eyes always lighting up at her stories.

   “Gotta love her,” I whispered, my fingers tracing the thin chain he was always wearing. As I took a deep breath i smelt something familiar.  I furrowed my brows, “are you cooking?”

    His eyes went wide, “oh shit, almost forgot.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the kitchen. The scent got stronger the closer we got. I recognized it immediately. He was cooking my favorite, an amazing mushroom stuffed chicken in a white wine sauce. I remembered him watching me take a bite the first time he made it for me. He looked so handsome and so relieved when I told him I loved it.

    “Makin’ your favorite,” he said as we reached the kitchen.

     I was confused, “Joseph, shouldn’t I be doing this kind of stuff for you? what is all this?” I looked around and noticed the table was set, candles were lit, and there were flowers in a vase on the counter.

    He wrapped his arms around me from behind, I leaned my head back so it was resting on his chest. “Just want ya to know how much I love you.” He kissed the top of my head and continued, “you’ve been so supportive and patient with me through all this, I don’t think I could have done it with out you.” His words made my heart swell. I reached my hand back to caress his cheek. “So, this is my thank you,” he whispered.

  “I don’t feel like I did anything. it was all you, you did it all on your own.” I turned around in his arms, he was shaking his head. His eyes were filled with so much love. I felt like i could start crying again as I spoke, “I don’t deserve you, Joseph. Thank you for all of this.”

    He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, “you deserve the world, Y/N,”

he whispered against my lips. I smiled as I leaned into his kiss. He was the kindest person I had ever met. I had never felt so safe and secure in a relationship. He loved me so much and I knew it, and he knew I was in love with him. He knew me so well. He knew my mind, heart, and body like he knew his own. I also could not help but feel like he was stuck with me given the fact that Mikey was enamored with him.

   He pulled away from the kiss making me whine.  I tried to pull his face back down to mine, suddenly aching for his kiss.  He smirked and grabbed my hands, chuckling at how desperate I was to feel his lips on mine, “there is a catch though,” he hummed.

   I raised an eyebrow, “and what might that be?” I asked.

    “Well first, you’re going to make me your famous dirty martini that you know I’ve missed so much,” he whispered.

    I blushed and looked down.  When Joseph and I met in early 2018 I was bartending for some extra money. I will never forget the first time he came in and sat at the bar. He had a long day and just found out he hadn’t gotten a role he really wanted. He ordered a martini from me and went on and on about how it was the best one he ever had. I remember he stayed until the pub closed, talking and laughing with me. I was sad when he left, he hadn’t asked for my number or anything. I remember my heart sinking, knowing I would probably never see him again after an amazing night. Then the next night he came back, that’s when I started to feel myself falling in love with him.

    “I can do that,” i whispered, looking down at my hands in his.

      “Good,” he exhaled. He laced his fingers in mine, “then we’re going to eat.”  He brought my hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. Then he grazed his lips over my knuckles, placing soft random kisses across them. “Then,” his voice became deeper as he spoke , “I’m going to make you cum as many times as I possibly can.”

     A soft moan left my lips, I immediately felt myself starting to get wet. I bit my lip as I thought about how good he could make me feel. It had been so long since he’s touched me, I missed his calloused fingers, his tongue, and especially his cock. I swallowed hard as i thought about the first time we had sex all those years ago, he made me climax three times before he even slipped into my folds. No one had ever made me cum before, only myself. I was always shocked at the way Joe could make me fall apart with the ease.

     “Sound good, love?” he said, his voice back to normal, snapping me back to reality. I never knew how he could say something that made me so weak in the knees and then go back to normal like nothing happened.

      I nodded and cleared my throat, “sounds great,” my voice cracking at the end.

     He gave me a quick kiss before he dropped my hands, “let me finish this up, all right?” He said gesturing toward the stove.

     He walked away and tended to the food. I took a deep breath as I moved towards the refrigerator, grabbing the ingredients for the martini. I heard him humming as he cooked. I looked back at him, it was nice seeing him home again. It felt like he had never left, everything was suddenly back to how it’s supposed to be.

     I grabbed the cocktail shaker from on top of the refrigerator, filling it almost to the brim with ice. I opened the cabinet next to the fridge and grabbed two martini glasses and some tooth picks. I opened the bottle of vodka and poured it into the now frosty shaker.  I added a very small splash of vermouth to the vodka. That was part of my secret, most people don’t add any vermouth to a dirty martini. Then i added a generous amount of brine from a jar of olives before letting a few fall into the shaker. I remember him saying ‘make it as filthy as possible,’ when he ordered. Not knowing how to make a dirty martini more dirty, i began to shake his with a couple of olives.

      I grabbed a glass and popped it on the top of the shaker, snapping it into place with the side of my fist. I brought it up and began to shake it quickly. Once I was happy with the amount it was shaken, i hit the side of it with the heel of my palm to release the cup from the shaker.

     “Ya still got it, babe,” I heard Joseph say behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see him looking back at me with a small smile on his lips. I rolled my eyes and smiled back at him. Joe was always impressed with my bartending abilities. I bartended to pay my way through college and had gotten really good at it. I had done it for so long that it felt like second nature to me, I didn’t have to think about my movements while I made a drink.

    I grabbed the strainer and popped it on top of the metal shaker and poured the liquid in the glass. I was impressed that I had the exact amount to fill both glasses to the brim. I grabbed to tooth picks and poked them through the olives, two for Joe and one for me.

    I carefully grabbed the glasses and walked to Joseph. His face lit up as he saw me handing him his glass. He took it and lifted it towards me, “cheers, love.”

     “Cheers, handsome,” i whispered as we clinked glasses. I brought the glass to my lips and sipped the drink. The drink was strong, cold, and delicious.

   Joe hummed as he took a gulp, “the fucking best,” he said as he sat his glass down.

    I smiled and stepped behind him, wrapping my hands around his waist. I rested my cheek against his back right below his shoulder blades. My hands ran over his stomach through the fabric of his shirt. I slipped my hands under the hem of his shirt, humming when I felt his bare stomach against my fingers. I traced my fingertips up his happy trail, earning a shiver from him.

     We sat there in a nice, calming silence as he cooked and i continued to rub my hands on his soft skin. The only sound was him cooking and the soft humming I could feel vibrating through his chest.

     “Babe,” he said, making me jump.

     “Yes, my love?” I asked, placing a kiss to his back.

    “Mind helping me?” He said.

    I nodded as i dropped my hands from his belly.  I came next to him and he gestured to the parsley on the cutting board next to him. I grabbed a big drink of my martini and picked up the knife. I rolled the parsley and began chopping.

   Joseph placed his empty glass down, “another?” I asked.

     “Yes please,” he smiled at me.

     I finished chopping, threw back my drink, and made another. I felt a slight buzz, realizing how long it had been since I drank anything stronger than a glass of wine.

    I sat our glasses in our spots at the table. “Ready?” Joe asked.

    I nodded, i walked over to him to help carry the food to the table. He grabbed my shoulders stopping me. “What?” I asked.

    He turned me around and walked me back to the table, “i got it, just sit down,” he said. He grabbed the back of my chair and pulled it out for me.

    “Such a gentleman,” i said as I sat.

    He brought the food over as I placed my napkin in my lap. He portioned some roasted potatoes, vegetables, and chicken onto my plate before adding it to his. He looked down and frowned as he sat, grabbing my ankle. He placed my foot on his lap and unzipped the boots I forgot to take off. He slipped them off and gave a squeeze to my foot before doing the same to the other. “Better?” He asked.

     I nodded and said, “thank you,” leaning in and giving him a kiss.

    We sat and ate, talking about everything. He told me all about being on set, and i happily listened. I missed hearing him tell me stories, even when he laughed his way through it; his laughter making it nearly impossible to keep up. I could listen to him forever. The way his eyes light up and his face is so expressive.

    When we finished I thanked him for cooking and grabbed our plates taking them to the sink. I began rinsing them when I felt him behind me, his hands on either side of the counter trapping me against him.

     “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked.

      “Babe, you cooked, the least I can do is take care of the dishes,” i said.

        He moved my hair from my shoulder, exposing my neck. I shivered when i could feel his breath on my neck. He chuckled and started to place soft open mouth kisses along my skin, pausing to suck a soft mark on the sensitive spot right below my ear.

     I moaned and leaned my head, exposing more for him. He softly bit down, making me hiss and drop the plate i was rinsing into the sink. “Shit.” I gasped when his hand travelled down my sides.

     “Go to the room, want ya naked,” he whispered against my skin, “I’ll be there in a minute.

________________________________________________________________

Thank you so much for reading! I will hopefully have part two (be prepared for the smuttiest smut you’ve ever read) posted by this time tomorrow. I love you all. 

[bluemusickid]

A Heart of Gold: Part 3

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: talk of sexual assault, Bucky being Bucky, two idjits in love, unrequited love, smut, oral sex, a lil angst, 18+, derogatory language, foul language, MINORS DNI

A/N: I dunno what to say lol. This has been quite tough to write. But I hope it lives upto the expectations.

I no longer do taglists, if you wish to be notified of my newest updates, pleeeease follow @lexiscyberlibrary ​, and switch on the notifications! Check out my masterlist for more stories!

My blog is 18+, MINORS DNI. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Please read the warnings before you start reading. I publish my work only on AO3, Tumblr, Wattpad, and nowhere else. I do not give permission to translate or reproduce my work anywhere else. Not beta'ed, any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise are entirely my own.

Part 1 || Part 2

The day went by quite well. You’d sold quite a bit of your goods that day, with many regulars coming through. It was always a bit weird to see Winifred’s table occupied by someone else, but you knew that she had never left. She would always be there, looking over you, keeping you safe. You couldn’t say the same for her son, though.

His name flooded your head with the memories of last night and this morning. You were conflicted. You didn’t like him, did you? He wasn’t the best husband, and so far he had shown you no amount of softness, except for this morning. It shook you to your very core.

Just then, one of your regulars popped in for a quick bite, with her cute baby. That was the best part about the bakery. You met so many people, they were like family to you. You cradled the little one, fondling her cheeks and giving her small kisses. You’d always wanted kids of your own, but it was an impossible dream.

Unbeknownst to you, there were a pair of eyes watching you.

Bucky was seated outside on his bike, hidden from the main entrance so that he could keep an eye on you without you noticing. He saw you with the child, smiling and giggling as you bounced it and kissed it ever so softly. He was smitten by the sight. But he knew it wasn’t meant to be. And it was all his fault.

Bucky was a man shaped by his circumstances, as most are. He had learned from an early age that this world doesn't accept softness, or kindness. It is hard, brutal, and unforgiving. Which is why he hated you, in the beginning. Your quiet adamance, your love for life, your sheer kindness made you everything he stood against. His mother didn't help, either. Fawning over the lass like she was her own. That angered him too. He missed his mother. He never showed it, but the woman was the very reason he was alive right now; she would get him out of fights, made sure he finished school, provided for the both of them tirelessly. The day she had asked him to get married to you was the day he would always remember. Seeing his mother like that shook him to the core. He had always thought of her demise as a thing of the future, and to see it so closely; he couldn't process it.

So he tied the knot, for her sake. The only thing that bothered him was your presence. It had been a thorn in his side. He'd always been a lone wolf, and he had convinced himself that that was the best way, or rather, the only way forward. He didn't need anyone entangled in his dirty stuff. But along you come with your shy countenance, your sweet smiles, and your sunny personality. Fuck, if it didn't annoy him in the beginning. The day it changed was the day you called him up from the hospital and yelled at him, only to hang up on him. Nobody had ever done that before; nobody had dared to.

He felt something that day, which he hadn't felt before. But he chalked it up to nerves and stress, what with his mother, the only family he'd ever fucking had being in the hospital and all.

But what excuse did he have for the days after that?

The day of the marriage. A day he swore would never come, but inevitably did. The moment he laid eyes on you, in your simple yet elegant wedding dress, with a hint of makeup and the most beautiful tulle veil he'd ever seen...fuck if it didn't stir his heart. He had to make a conscious effort to tear his eyes away from you. This marriage was never going to work. He would make sure of it. His resolution nearly broke after you first kiss as man and wife. Your soft lips against his; he felt like his knees would buckle under the intensity of emotions. He pulled back in an instant, afraid of what he might uncover.

He convinced himself that he wouldn't let anything happen, which translated into him unleashing his anger. But what was surprising was how you took it all with a smile, not faltering. He knew it was wrong. He knew it was douchey of him; and yet he did it. Why? He didn't know. Maybe it was the fact that you were always happy, a ray of sunshine even when the universe was shitty to you. But he knew, in his heart of hearts, it was because he was jealous of you. Jealous of your relationship with his mom. How much you loved her, and she loved you and how well the both of you were together. He couldn't say for sure, but he knew that somewhere, maybe Winifred liked you better. But he could see you tiring. Of life, of this relationship, of everything.

Which is why that night came as a surprise to him. You helped him, nursed him without any complaint. It flabbergasted him. All the while he thought he could break you and here you were, standing up and helping him, no less. He couldn't fight it, anymore. He couldn't fight you.

He'd met a lot of tough men in his career, who he thought could never be defeated. But with a look at you, he deduced that they would bow down in front of you.

It didn't help that Rumlow and his goons were after you. The one thing in his life he now looked forward to. He shuddered, remembering the recording his contact had sent him.

"What's with his new bitch? Does he love her?"

"From what we know, she seems to be quite the little housewife. Has a job at the bakery, volunteers at a hospital, and takes care of that shit-stain she calls her husband."

"Quite the pretty little thing. Must be wild in the sack."

They all laughed at that.

"Don't worry, you'll all get your turn with her. We'll turn her into a slut, and make that fucker watch."

Bucky could've killed them with his bare hands at that moment. He didn't know what to name his relationship with you, but whatever it was, it made him livid to think of them laying even an eye on you, let alone a finger.

He would have to get you someplace safe. Someplace away from all his mess. Because if something happened to you, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. Ever.

You nearly stumbled as you saw him outside the bakery. Had he come to pick you up as well? He was sitting there, leaning on his motorbike, playing with his lighter. Your stomach did a flip, for no apparent reason. Why were you suddenly so conscious? Taking a deep breath, you walked towards him, a slight tremble in each step.

"Ready to go home?"

"Umm.."

Wordlessly, he handed you the helmet, which you wore without any questions. What could you say? Hey Bucky, why are you not being an asshole to me?

You sat behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder tentatively. He took your right hand and wound it around his torso, his grip tight.

"Hold on. I don't want you to fall off and break your neck."

He felt warm. Too warm, in fact. Scalding hot. Your core tightened when he revved the motors; he really knew his way around the steel horse. The engine purred to life and you were swept away, the wind against your body, threatening you to feel something: something you were not willing to visit.

You reached home way too quickly for your liking. Getting off, you handed him back his helmet, turning towards the door when you felt his hand grasp your wrist. You turned around, only to see his contrite expression.

"Will you have coffee with me?"

You blinked. No words came out of your mouth; honestly, it was a wonder he hadn't taken you to the ER, you hadn't said a word since he picked you up. Realising that the silence was borderline awkward, you cleared your throat and squeaked an "okay." before scurrying inside.

You dropped your purse on your bed, head in your hands. You were confused as hell. Here you were, worried that Bucky would lash out and be angry at what happened yesterday, but he was actually being nice. He had breakfast with you, dropped and picked you up. Like a real husband in love with his wife. Oh, and he'd called you Mrs. Barnes. MRS. BARNES. He acknowledged his marital status for the first time, without grimacing or cringing.

Did he suffer from a concussion? He was pretty banged up from the fight. Yes, that had to be it. You walked shakily to the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water.

Time to face the predator.

He had set the table; beatifully, that too. There was a french press with steaming coffee, on a plate were biscotti, plated neatly. And two slices of your famous strawberry shortcake.

And him? He looked significantly better than the day before. His wound was healing, and he'd cleaned up his beard a little. He looked...presentable. And kinder, more softer.

"Take a seat." His soft voice broke you out of your reverie.

You nodded, moving to sit opposite him. He took a seat, pouring the coffee in two beautiful teacups. Idly, you recognised them as Winifred's wedding china. She had told you so much about her wedding day, and Bucky's late father. It almost felt like you knew him. From what she described, Bucky was a lot like him, in many ways. Which is why she was always worried about Bucky, and the path he went on and continued to be on; the self destruction scaring her.

"Don't you like coffee?" He asked, warily.

"Oh..it's...really nice...thank you.." you trailed off, awkwardly.

A few moments passed, the sipping of coffee being the only noise breaking the silence. You threw a glance or two at him, trying to gauge his reaction. He seemed impassive, trying his best not to make eye contact with you. Jesus. Could it get any more awkward?

"So..umm..how was your day?" He asked, his words a little jumbled.

"It...was good...thanks..." You mumbled. Perhaps he felt bad about yesterday. Perhaps he thought it was a mistake and was going to tell you that it wouldn't happen again. Your heart sank. That was probably it.

You finished your coffee in silence, exchanging small talk. You asked him about his day, to which he gave no more than a two word answer. It seemed as though he was uncomfortable with the mere concept of sharing his thoughts.

But it was bugging you. Why was he being nice? Why was he insisting on being a caring husband? Why did he call you by your marital name? These questions were threatening to drown you.

"Is everything ok?" You asked timidly, anticipating him to yell at you.

His brow furrowed as he turned to face you. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

Now how would you answer that? I dunno, you seem weirder than normal?

"Oh, nothing..I just..."

He narrowed his eyes, cocking his head just a bit.

"Is this question because of what happened yesterday?"

"U-Uhm, I mean, I don't...I'm not..."

He made his way towards you, a predator stalking his prey. You tried moving behind but your feet were firmly planted to the ground, for some reason. You grasped the counter behind you for support, your legs suddenly unable to receive any commands from your brain.

Caging you in his arms, he closed the distance between the both of you, leaning towards your ear.

"What happened yesterday, should've happened way before. And now that it has, I want more." He whispered, his hot breath caressing you, his voice silky around you, encompassing you like a blanket.

You had never noticed how raspy his voice was until now. Your systems overriden, you could only focus on his proximity; his body pressing deliciously against yours, how close he was and yet, there was distance of sorts. It was maddening, yet tantalizing. You remembered yesterday, how he'd felt under your fingers, how he'd driven you mad with just one kiss.

His lips were close to yours, almost too close.

“Why?” you murmured.

That seemed to break him out of his trance. He pulled back, his facial features hardening with each passing moment. You cursed yourself, not wanting to sour his bad mood.

“I..just meant that...after all that has happened-”

“I know, I know. I understood what you meant.” He moved away, taking a few steps back.

“I think I’m just gonna...go work on my bike for a bit... You should...too..” he trailed off, walking out of the house, his strides fast and heavy.

You jumped at the sound of the door closing, not realising how out of it you were. You just had to open your big mouth, didn’t you? Back to square one, it would seem.

Needless to say, dinner that night was a pretty silent affair.

You both settled in some sort of a twisted routine. There would be very less words spoken, both of you speaking only when necessary. But there were moments. Moments that made your heart jump. Like when he insisted on dropping and picking you up. When he made you both coffee in the evenings, but only with the strawberry shortcake you made. When he called you Mrs. Barnes. You could feel yourself heat up everytime he called you that. You had not forgotten the evening he’d almost kissed you, but then again, what was there to say? He wasn’t going to tell you, and you were afraid that he would go back to his angry, moody self and close himself off from you.

This particular evening, he seemed to be in a chatty mood. Which wasn’t much, considering it was Bucky; but still, it was something. It was a rainy evening, the skies pouring down and overcast, the piping hot coffee a necessity to enjoy the weather.

You both sat at the dining table, watching it pelt down on the window. It had a calming effect, and strangely, so did Bucky’s presence.

“What did you talk about with my mother?” he asked, out of the blue.

“I’m sorry?”

“What did you talk about? She seemed to be very close to you, and I’m sure she liked you better than she did me. Especially towards the end.” His eyes met yours as he said the last words, the sadness palpable.

“That’s not true-”

“It is. I know I haven’t been the best son but I do love her and I miss her. A lot. Please just..just tell me.” his sob caught in his throat as he ended his sentence, averting your gaze. It broke your heart to see him like this.

“Well, she and I talked about a lot of things. Things I wish I could talk to my mom about. She made me feel like I still had someone in this world, some type of family, in a way. She talked about you quite a lot. Said that she wished she was around you more, when you were growing up. She loved you dearly, even as she was on her deathbed. The only reason she asked me if I would marry you was so that you had somebody look out for you, like a family....” you trailed off, uncertain of what you were implying. You weren’t really his family, were you? You were just..there. Existing in his sphere of reference.

He looked over at you, a sheen of tears visible on his eyes, as he struggled to control his emotions.  You could tell that he'd repressed any thoughts of his late mother for the longest time. The fact that he was willing to talk about it, made you feel a little warm inside. He was opening up.

"I'm sorry..."

"For what, being a better child to my mother than I ever could be?"

"That's not true. She loved you. A lot. A mother's love never dwindles for her children. She always wanted the best for you. And me." You added after a beat, her memories flooding your mind, your eyes misty. She would've been sad to see how your relationship with Bucky had started. Even now, it was very fragile. One wrong move from you, and it would crumble. You couldn't bear that. His ire was unbearable.

He stared out of the window, his tears running amok. He only stopped to wipe his tears. You wished you could reach over and give him a hug, or at the very least, a comforting pat or two. Reaching over, you placed your hand on his shoulder, hesitant in your actions. He turned his head towards you slowly, his face unable to hide his surprise. Looking at your hand, he inched forward, ever so slightly, the distance between the two of you diminishing as he shifted closer to you.

You weren't sure what was happening. Hell, you'd been sure he would have yelled at you for trying to get close. But you saw him; vulnerable, scared, sad. And it tore your heart. Tentatively moving closer, you wound your arms around his waist, wrapping your arms around him. Softly at first.

You could tell that he was shocked. His entire body went stiff, slight tremors racking his form. Finally, after a few moments had passed, he leaned into the hug more, wrapping his arms around you gently. He rested his chin on your shoulder, letting out a huge breath.

You closed your eyes, arms tightening around him. You wanted to show solidarity, to show him that he wasn't alone, no matter how badly he behaved. You couldn't understand why, but you wanted him to know that you were there for him, through it all.

Bucky was speechless; but a good kind of speechless. He hadn't expected you to do that. Hell, he hadn't expected to like the hug as much as he was. It felt right, like it was meant to be. He could feel his worry dissipate, his sorrow withering away, bit by bit. All he felt was a sense of calm; of peace. You were his anchor.

Pulling away, he looked into your eyes, boring deeply into yours. His intensity almost made you look away, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. You looked into his blue eyes, a maelstrom of emotions swirling in them, getting darker by the second.

He leaned forward, his lips softly grazing yours. He was silently waiting for your permission. You leaned forward, your lips firm against his. You wanted to feel him. You needed this.

Your lips melded together; soft at the first instance, but insistent and intrepid the next. His tongue met yours as you granted him entry, as tongues met one another.

The very feeling of him against you made you feel like you were on Cloud 9. You didn't know how or when this happened. All you knew was that it was a force of nature, not to be taken lightly. His arms around you, his fingers delicately tracing patterns along your back, your neck, was the only thing keeping you grounded; in the moment.

You placed your palm on his cheek, his stubble lightly tickling you, and yet, the warmth inviting. He moaned into the kiss, leaning into the small act of affection, deepening the kiss even more. Time seemed to stand still, and the two of you in your own space.

You broke apart, only when the need for air surpassed your need for each other. Panting, you caught your breath, lost in each others gaze, drowning in what seemed to be a varied mix of emotions. Not dropping eye contact, Bucky held your hand, pulling you up with him. Lightly tugging, he led you to his room in step with one another.

Standing in his room, the jitters came back. Your mind was on autopilot uptil now, but your brain started thinking again; actually, overthinking. You weren't sure of what would ensue, but whatever did happen, you hoped it would be good for him, and you.

Closing the drapes, he made his way to you, holding your chin between his fingers. He kissed you languidly, his arms tightening around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You felt him through his jeans, hard and ready against your hip.

You gasped, eyes as wide as saucers. This was getting too real, too fast. Bucky saw your expression and pulled back, concern etched on his face.

"What's the matter? Is everything ok?"

You tried to calm your wild heart, running a palm over your face as you tried to gather your thoughts.

"I...I have to be honest with you. I haven't...been... with anyone else before...and I don't have much experience..with men. I just don't..." you tapered off, sighing in exasperation.

He looked at you, and after a beat, smiled. Gathering you in his arms, he rested his head on yours, leaving a small kiss on your head.

"We don't have to do anything right now. We can take it at the pace you want. I'm not going to pressure you for anything. And about you being inexperienced? That simply doesn't matter to me. Whatever happens or will happen between us, it'll be at your pace."

Looking at you, a wicked smile adorned his face. "But trust me, sugar, it will happen. Soon."

You bashfully looked down, unable to meet his gaze. He left a small peck on your lips, followed by a few featherlight kisses all over your face. You sighed, wrapping your arms around him; still in awe of the events of this evening. Was this still the Bucky you married? Because if so, you hoped he stayed like this for a long time.

"Stay with me tonight. Here, in our bedroom, as a married couple ought to stay."

You simply nodded. There was no where else you'd want to be.

You stared at his bed, the nerves slowly making themselves known again.

"Which side of the bed do you normally sleep on?"

Your question seemed to catch him off-guard, a chuckle escaping his lips as he registered your question.

"You can pick whichever side you want. I'm not fussy."

You decide to sleep on the left. You were scared of sleeping next to the window, and yes, scared of ghosts or any other extraterrestrial entity. Changing into your dressing gown, you finished doing your nightly routine, making your way to bed.

Exiting the bathroom, you saw Bucky sitting on the bed, staring at you, reverence in his eyes. You wondered what had happened suddenly.

"What?"

You slowly made your way to your side, pulling up the covers. He had something on his mind, and you weren't sure what it was.

"Do you trust me?"

"...Yes.." you murmured, wired in anticipation. Where was he going with this?

"Good. You know that I won't hurt you, right?"

".....uhm..yes.."

"Is it ok if I try something? If you don't like it we can stop immediately. But I just want to try something. Is that ok?"

You nodded, shyly. You had a small inkling of where this was headed. Best get it out of the way before your brain starts overthinking and ruining things again, you scoffed to yourself.

Lowering himself over you, he placed his lips on yours, languorously. You melted into the kiss, winding your arms around his neck. You had a feeling you would never tire of these.

Moving down, he left soft kisses along the column of your neck, his tongue laving your pulse point. Your breathing faltered, as you moved your head to the side, giving him easier access. Pulling the straps of your nightgown down, he gazed at your breasts, not peeling his eyes away. Not being used to anyone seeing you like this, you moved to cover them but were stopped by his hands.

"Don't. You have a beautiful body, sweetheart. Please let me see you. Please." His words of plea tugged at you, as you dropped your arms to the side, unsure of what his next moves were going to be. He dropped his head to one swollen peak, swirling his tongue around it as he gently took one between his teeth and tugged. You groaned out loud, your hands making their way into his hair.

Looking up at you, he grinned, a twinkle in his eyes. "I take it you liked that."

You nodded, shyly as he turned his attention to the other nub, giving it the same treatment. You gulped, the sensations going straight to your core; everything down south tightening with each wicked lick of his mouth. Whatever he was doing, you didn't want him to stop.

He slowly peeled off your nightgown, throwing it to the side. Dressed in only your panties, you felt exposed and vulnerable. Bucky seemed to catch onto that, as he pulled off his tee shirt as well, displaying his well defined torso, albeit with a few cuts and bruises here and there. You ran your fingers over his scars, the divots on his chest and torso. He really was a beautiful man.

Lowering you to the bed again, he left soft kisses along the soft swell of your stomach, your breasts, your neck. He moved down further, reaching your core. This, you weren't as sure about. What if he didn't like what he saw? What if you didn't taste good? Your friends had always talked about their.. experiences with men and the number one deal-breaker was always taste. Which you didn't really understand.

"Sweetheart, relax. We don't have to do this if you don't want to. Tell me to stop and I will. I promise."

"N..no. I'm okay. Please, don't stop."

"Are you sure?"

"Y..yes. It's just, i'm a little conscious, that's..all.." you murmured.

Your eyes plastered to the ceiling, you couldn't really see Bucky. You wondered what had happened, when you felt him slowly lower your panties down your legs, his hot breath caressing your most intimate part.

Slowly parting your legs, he left soft kisses on your inner thighs, till he reached the apex. You held your breath as you felt his lips on you, slowly leaving kisses along the length of you. You were wetter than you had ever been; you were sure of it.

He didn't give you time to dwell as he left a long stripe along the length of your lips, causing your legs to lurch around him. He chuckled, holding down your thighs, stopping you from closing your legs.

"Hang on, sweetheart. I'm gonna make you feel good, I promise."

And with that, he began his amorous assault, his lips insistent against your lower ones. He parted your folds, leaving kitten licks along them. He reached your swollen nub, hidden from his eyes, as the tip of his tongue grazed it lightly. You gasped, unable to contain your arousal. He grinned, before going to town as he sucked on the engorged flesh, for all he was worth. You wailed, flailing about as your hands tangled into his hair for support, tugging on it ever so slightly.

He moaned, his tongue slipping into your channel. "Do that again, sweetheart." He panted, his voice thick with emotion.

You tentatively tugged on his hair again, this time with a bit more force. He groaned, resuming his ministrations. You were lost, your body a mere afterthought at this point, your attention concentrated at one point. He gently ran his finger across your folds, aiding his tongue which he laid flat along it. You tried closing your legs, to stop this flurry of emotions he was invoking.

"Bucky...please...please..." You gasped, moaning as you felt yourself nearing your peak. You wrenched your eyes shut, trying to absorb all the pleasure.

"Don't worry sweetheart...gonna take good care of you...just..let..go." he muttered through gritted teeth, doubling his efforts.

You screamed, your core contracting around nothing as you reached your peak, rather explosively. Bucky didn't stop his actions through your climax, his tongue moving across your folds, licking up all you had to offer.

You panted, trying to gain your bearings again. That was...something beyond your imagination. Never had you thought that such pleasure could be felt, ever. Idly, you wondered if it was the same for Bucky as well.

Looking up, you saw him looking at your dazed expression, a smile on his face. He bent down and kissed you, your taste still on his tongue. It wasn't half bad, you thought.

"Was that good?"

"It was..amazing. Thank you." You murmured, shyly.

"Aren't we...I mean, don't you...have to.."

He laughed a little at that, laying on his side next to you.

"As much as I appreciate the thought, and as much as I want to, we should stop for now. I don't want to overwhelm you. Besides, we have a lifetime with each other to do..other things." He smirked, intent clear in his eyes.

You smiled, running your palm over his cheek. Making his way under the sheets, he pulled you to him, spooning you, his hand circling your waist.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Barnes."

"Goodnight." You whispered, drifting off in his arms. For the first time in so long, you had a dreamless sleep.

Waking up in the morning, you felt warmth emanating from beside you. You couldn't place it at first, but as you slowly woke up, you realised it was Bucky. His arm was draped around you, enveloping you in a bear hug.

You slowly moved out of his embrace, careful not to wake him, as you gathered your clothes and headed to the bathroom, to freshen up.

The shower felt heavenly, warm water calming your nerves and soothing you. It gave you time to think, to reflect on all that had happened. Bucky went down on you, and you liked it. He didn't care about his pleasure, instead focused on yours. It made you feel all fuzzy inside.

This was all so new, and yet, it felt right. Like it was meant to happen, sooner or later. You heard some noise from outside, which meant that he was awake. You wrapped up your shower, butterflies in your stomach as you mentally prepared yourself to face him.

He wasn't on the bed, as you'd thought he'd be. Shrugging, you went to the kitchen to get breakfast ready. You didn't want to be late for work, and you didn't know if he'd be willing to drop you again.

You were lost in your own world, engrossed as you were beating the eggs for his omelette. You didn't hear him till he placed a hand on your shoulder, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"Sweetheart, we have to go."

"Go...? Go where? Is everything okay?"

"I'll explain everything. But for now we have to leave. Is that ok?"

You hesitated. What was he hiding?

"I promise, I'll tell you everything, whatever you want to know. But we have to move, quickly. Steve and Sam are bringing their truck. Pack a few things and your important documents and such. We'll leave soon."

You nodded, hurrying to your room, your mind whirring. What had happened? Why was he so shaken up?

Whatever it was, you hoped he didn't get hurt in the midst of it. Hauling your bags through the house, you saw him ready in his biking gear.

"You're not coming in the car?"

"No. Our stuff will take up some space, and I need to check up on a few things. I'll be right behind you I swear."

You were about to oppose him and tell him that you would come with, but he held up his hand, stopping you.

"I swear, I'll be with you the whole time. I just...need to sort out some stuff, that's all. Till then, Steve and Sam will keep you safe. Do as they say, and stay with them at all times, till I come back."

He pulled you close, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "We'll be together soon enough, love. Don't fret."

You wished you wouldn't, but you did. Because if something happened to him, you weren't sure what you might do.

[indigoh4ze]

party || rafe cameron

warning- SMUT // vaginal fingering, eating out, vaginal penetration, mentions of intoxication

rafe cameron x fem!reader

a/n- so this is my first time writing for outer banks, im terrible at writing actual interactions so im sorry its so bad at first lmao. also disclaimer: rafe in this fic is nothing like he is canon, so his characterization is off. enjoy :)

also feel free to request for any outer banks characters i write for

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the lights were blazing, different colors zapping throughout the room as you made your way over to the couch. your head was slightly fuzzy from the intoxication, but you managed.

since the couch was empty, you took the chance to sprawl your whole body out on it, head on one arm and feet dangling off the other. you watched as everyone danced and made out and filled their bodies with even more toxins. soon, you found yourself just dazing up at the ceiling, lips opening and closing slightly as you lip-synced in a whispering tone to the loud music.

after what felt like hours, but could’ve only been a few minutes, you felt something nudge your thigh. without moving your neck, you let your eyes flash down to find the source of the movement.

hovering over you was rafe cameron. his dirty blonde hair framed his face messily, a single cross earring dangling from his left ear, a red solo cup in his hand as his free hand poked at your thigh.

“what?” you slurred, now moving up on your elbows and blinking back the haziness.

“i wanna sit,” he said, taking a sip from the cup. even in this state it wasn’t hard to notice how good the boy looked, tilting his head back and gulping down the liquid, eyes never leaving your own.

you groaned, pulling your knees to your chest and allowing rafe to throw himself onto the cushion. you were now facing his side, as his hands gripped your legs and pulled them back to their original position, except now they laid over his leg. giving him a curious look, you laid the side of your face on the back cushion and fidgeted with the bracelet around your wrist.

“shouldn’t you be like- getting shit faced or something.” rafe snickered at your words, sending you a glare before looking back down to his cup, which he was also mindlessly playing with.

“sorry, did i interrupt your little..nap?” he teased with a hint of amusement, referring to the previous state you were in, and you scoffed in return, mind clearing a bit more and making room for annoyance.

“whatever.” and then, you were pulling your legs off him and standing up, albeit wobbly as you almost fell to the side, caught by rafe’s firm grip around your arm.

“you good?”

“‘m fine,” you dismissed the boy, confused as to why he was even talking to you in the first place.

the truth was, you never liked him, he was rude and careless and selfish and way too much to put up with. but you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards the boy, and the tension that was always evident when the two of you were together.

but you always just pushed those thoughts aside, because even the thought of anything happening made your mind whirl with a plethora of emotions, not good ones by any means.

but then, you also couldn’t deny the recurring fantasies of things that could happen. could but wont, because he’s rafe cameron, and not even you’re desperate enough to be one of his bitches.

“hey?” a light tug of your arm pulled you back to the present, and you turned to see rafe at your side, cup forgotten as one of his hands molded around your waist and the other wrapped around your bicep to steady you.

“i’m really fine-.” you pulled away from him, and right as you did so, you felt someone back up on you, pushing you towards rafe and into his chest as a cold liquid spread from the lower half of your head and down your back.

you gasped in surprise, suddenly awake and alert as you sharply turned to see a boy standing there, cup tilted and empty as all its contents spilt on your back. he mumbled a quick apology, then took off laughing with his friends about something they said that probably wasn’t even funny.

“you sure about that?” rafe inquired, eyebrow raised in amusement as you stepped away from him, this time more cautiously. “c’mon, we’ll clean you up.”

although you wanted to say no and tell him to fuck off because you could handle it yourself, you were too exhausted from the long night to put up much protest other than a dramatic groan. then, you nodded, and rafe led you away from the crowd of people with a tug of your wrist.

—//—

now, you found yourself in a bedroom, rafes bedroom, waiting expectantly as you stood in front of the boy.

“what now?” you ask, palming your eyes and yawning, looking back at rafe with glossy eyes now, which were sending waves of tingles through the boys stomach.

“take a shower,” he implied, as if it was obvious. you scrunched your brows as he pointed to the bathroom on the other side of the room.

“i don’t have any spare clothes.”

“i’ll find you something to wear,” rafe shrugged, “go on,” he urged you to the bathroom, and you followed obediently, not having it in you to put up any sort of fight or ask questions.

“i’ll be right back,” rafe said from the room as you closed the bathroom door, only to hear the door to the bedroom close as well, meaning rafe left.

your mind was filled with the thought that he just ditched you, which was a possibility, but you ignored that thought and slipped your shirt over your head. once all the articles of clothing were thrown onto the cold tile floor, along with your shoes which sat messily in the corner, you lift a foot into the tub, stepping in.

immediately, you played with the oddly fancy knobs and managed to turn them on, warm water rushing through the shower head as your tilted your head back into it. the odd colored drink washed away from your hair, falling onto the floor of the tub and down the drain smoothly. you searched for soap, quickly cleaning up and scrubbing your hair twice for good measure. the smell of the soap reminded you of rafe, not surprising considering it was literally his own soap, you told yourself, annoyed by your current thoughts.

the feeling of the slightly cold water hitting your skin was enough to wake you up fully, but you were too lost in the blissful feeling of the water to pay much attention to your surroundings.

that was until you heard the door to the bathroom open, and you peaked your head through the curtain to find rafe, setting a towel on the counter, along with a shirt and a pair of shorts.

“who’s are those?” you questioned, making rafe jump as he realized you were watching him.

“sarah, i just took some from her,” he shrugged, and now you were even more confused.

first, he started talking to you randomly. then he’s helping you stand. then he’s taking you to his room..so you can shower. then he’s getting clothes for you to wear? how much did you have to drink? you started to ask yourself, questioning if this was all you just being wasted.

but it wasn’t, you felt pretty much fine. so there had to be something you were missing.

“just hurry up and change, i’ll be in the other room.” without another glance towards you, rafe left the bathroom, leaving you standing there, wet hair dripping forward from the way you had tilted your head to peek through. you went back to getting the soap out of your hair, rushing a bit more now.

meanwhile, rafe was in his room, just outside the bathroom, sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. what the fuck am i doing? was his only thought.

he was honestly just confused as you were. it started when he saw you laying on the couch, mouth agape as your eyes sketched shapes on the ceiling. you just being there was tempting enough, but after that he just had to make his way over to you.

the two of you hadn’t had many conversations in the past, at least no genuine ones. most were just bickering, to be honest. but, just as you thought, the tension was undeniable. the feelings weren’t one sided, that was for sure.

when he caught you from falling over, you had leaned into his warmth and something almost turned in his stomach, which was quite nauseating on his side. it was annoying how fucking worked up he got around you. his mind would spin with options of what to do with you. did he want to just kiss you, fuck you or annoy you to death? he had no idea, but it was overwhelming, to say the least.

so when he invited you to his room to clean up, he wasn’t really thinking about it, because everything was happening at once. he even searched his sisters room for goddamn clothes for you.

interrupting his inner monologue, a door opened and out came your figure, except you weren’t wearing the clothes he had given you. no, you were just in your towel, actually. your skin looked slightly damp still, but your hair had been fluffed out and dried a bit from the towel.

“what are you- where are the clothes i gave you?” rafe asked, standing hesitatingly.

“dunno, wasn’t my style i guess,” you shrugged, looking around his room casually, taking in the very rafe feel it gave.

rafe just scoffed, messing his hair up and stepping closer. “well, you can’t really go out in a towel now, can you?”

this reminded you that there was still a party going on, although it was muffled and a bit quieter as people began to call it a night.

“then i won’t go out.” you stepped closer, looking up at rafe with an expression of uncertainty, trying to identify the look behind his eyes, figure out what the fuck he was up to. but you saw nothing. if anything, there were just a bit of nervousness hidden there.

“and what exactly do you plan on doing, then? since your obviously so wise.” now his guarded demeanor was back up, though he had taken a step closer so your heavy breaths were hitting each other perfectly, hands close to grazing one another’s.

“i don’t know.” then, another reminder flashed in your mind, and you looked back at rafe, “wait, why are you even here? isn’t this like- your party?”

“well, technically topper wanted a party, i wanted to go to bed and sleep for a year.” you chucked at this, figuring he had already gotten fucked up today and didn’t feel like another party. then, taking a risk, you leaned in just a bit, and rafe didn’t pull back. actually, he pushed forward, bringing his large hands to wheel around your waist, setting fire through your veins.

it was as if both of you snapped at the same time, first eyeing each others lips, then pushing forward and taking said lips between your own. the kiss was hungry and long waited, immense relief flushing through you, which took you both by surprise.

not even a few minutes of this passed by before rafe was tugging at the towel, still clinging around your naked body, droplets of water probably wetting his floor.

before letting the fabric reveal your body, rafe looked at you, pulling away for a moment and looking over your features, silently asking permission. a quick nod was all it took for the material to be ripped off and throw to the side, rafe spinning you both around until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you fell back onto the mattress.

rafe looked over you with a smirk, eyes skimming over each and every detail of your body as if savoring it. a lick of his lips was all it took for your thighs to rub together, anticipation becoming too much as you waited for him.

this obviously pissed him off, because now his hands were tearing your legs apart, exposing your bare cunt inch by inch. “don’t even try to cover this up, got it?”

his voice was demanding, and luring, enough to make you nod, eyes softening in obedience, resulting in a snicker from rafe.

he leaned back in, delving down to leave kisses along your collar bone and suck on the flesh until bruises built against your skin, making you whimper and grab his dirty blond tressed with your fingers.

the sound of your whimpers made rafe go crazy, but he tamed the need inside him long enough to work his way down your stomach, placing teasing kisses down your inner thighs, but not once touching the spot you needed the most attention in.

“please, rafe,” you pleaded, not sure where it came from but gong with it once you saw the way he looked up at you, lust blown eyes and parted lips, waiting to be against your cunt.

“please what, hm? tell me what you want me to do, baby,” rafe cooed, fingers clenching around the inside of your thighs so he could push them apart and kiss your inner thighs, resulting in your back arching and hips begging upwards.

“n-need your mouth.” your face blushed with embarrassment of having to speak the words, but rafe just tsked, one hand moving upwards as he used his thumb to draw circles around your cunt, only passing your folds, earning a cry from you.

“i need more than that, doll.”

“fuck! please, j-just need your mouth on me, rafe, need to feel your mouth on my pussy, please!”

it seems that was acceptable for rafe, his thumb pausing just above your clit, then dragging down, finally grazing over the sensitive bud and stimulating it perfectly. your hips jerked at the sensation, but you grew accustomed to the feeling once he began working in small circles.

soon, his mouth was on your cunt, tracing paths over your folds and rubbing at the nub with a flat tongue, constantly sending shivers through you as you moaned with pleasure. his hands stayed at your side, ring clad finger’s cold against your flesh as his tongue dug inside you and began fucking your hole with no remorse.

the shapes and letters his warm tongue carved into you were almost too much, and when you reached down to rake your fingers through his hair, you fought the urge to push his head down and allow him to bury himself completely between your thighs.

“f-fuck! rafe, oh god, feels so good,” you sobbed, voice becoming louder as he hummed into you, a smirk on his lips, no doubt, from seeing you fall apart for him.

rafe pulled away within a second, licking his lip and keeping his eyes on your cunt, calculating his next move. you watched as he did so, suddenly feeling exposed as he raked his eyes over the slick coating your folds and your clit throbbing painfully through them. you squirmed at the emptiness, about to squeeze your thighs together, but you were too late as rafe brought a hand up, middle and forefinger pushing through your folds and embedding themselves within your walls.

a loud gasp escaped your lips as he did so, and you bit down painfully on the cushion of them as his fingers pumped in and out of you with nonstop speed. rafe looked up at you, his own lips parted beautifully as he watched moans flow easily out of your mouth.

“you like that, baby?” came his husky voice, only intensifying your already great pleasure that ran through your body. you nodded at his inquiry, not able to form coherent thoughts under his gaze. and that was when his fingers made a hook and pressed against your most sensitive part, making you squirm.

his smirk became bigger, and his fingers fucked you harder, a desperate attempt to ruin you right there. then he was leaning down, still pumping his fingers, and began to lick your clit with fervor, flicking the bud and sucking without resistance until your thighs were clenching around his head and you were a complete moaning mess.

“oh fuck- i’m g-gonna come rafe, pleaseplease,” you begged pathetically, having no time to be embarrassed as he hummed, nodding his head while still sucking on your clit, and permitted you to let go.

the orgasm took over in a huge wave, which came surprisingly fast, and the only thing on your mind was the bubbling in your stomach that was finally freed. moans and gasps fell from your lips as you wet his tongue and fingers, and rafe didn’t let a drop go to waste as he lapped up your slick, helping to prolong your orgasm.

hands reaching for his hair in dazed motions, eyes closed and lips parted, you mumbled, “t-too much, rafe,” which was the boys que to give you a final kiss on your clit, then remove his head and fingers from your cunt.

now, rafe stared up at you, swiping a ring clad thumb over his bottom lip, which was glistening with your arousal. his thumb then moved to enter your mouth, and you dutifully took in the digit, sucking with starry eyes, and whimpering when he removed it from your grasp.

rafe rose to his full height, still in his shirt and pants, which were no doubt keeping his hard dick from standing tall. suddenly, you felt that flush arise to your cheeks from your being nude, and you bit your lip and reached a hand out to grapple at his shirt. he took this as a sign to pull the material over his head, then going in for his buckle as well. the sound of the metal clinking as he loosened it from its straps was enough to send you into a spiral of anticipation, eyeing his clothed prick impatiently.

rafe had that smirk plastered to his face still, throwing his belt aside and then his pants, making sure not to go too fast as he tormented you.

you let out a whine as he hooked his fingers around his boxers, not pulling them down fully but revealing his v line. “rafe,” you pouted, and he decided to be nice and let them fall down, now unclothed as he kicked off his shoes and settled ontop of you, marking your chest and neck immediately.

sighing with content, you held him close and let his lips suck on your flesh, until the arousal was too much and he began to grind against you, slowly. your cunt was already becoming slick again as he rubbed against your thigh.

rafe lift himself up to his knees, pumping his cock, the point of his tongue poking out from the side of his mouth in concentration. the image of your breasts on display for him, and your lips parted and chest thumping was enough to make the boy cum on the spot.

he raised a brow at you, making sure you were still okay, and once getting a quick nod, he pressed the head of his cock against your folds. in the next second, he was thrusting into you, earning a loud gasp from you, which he covered with a hand on your mouth.

“shh, ‘m gonna fuck you good, okay? just lay there and look pretty,” he teased, but you nodded, wanting nothing more than to do as he said.

the thrusts started out mild, but soon quickened tempo, hips stuttering against yours as he wrapped a hand around your leg and pulled it over his shoulder. this allowed a better angle, and you moaned with him as he repeatedly pounded into your already sensitive cunt.

you slid a hand down your bouncing breasts and stomach, then to your throbbing clit, soothing it with your gentle fingers before rafe slapped them away, as if saying “mine.”

his own hand went around your propped up leg to thumb at your clit, whilst the other made a path over your hips and breasts, fondling with the mound of flesh and pinching your nipple.

the overstimulation was rushing through you violently, his thrusts becoming sloppy, orgasm at the brink. you watched his head fly back, eyes rolling and mouth a gape, hypnotized by how pretty he looked even when he was fucking you.

“rafe,” you repeatedly mumbled, forming no other words in your clouded mind.

“hm? does it feel good? d’you like the way i fuck you, pretty girl?”

“y-yeah, so good,” you hummed, your own head rolling back onto the pillow, hips thrusting up to meet his and satisfy the hunger that once again boiled in your core.

“i’m gonna cum on your tits, are you gonna be good for me?” he said just as your orgasm was about to wash you away, and you nodded fast, once again wanting to be the best you could for him.

then, you came, waves of pleasure splashing through you before he pulled out, still thumbing your sensitive bundle of nerves, using his free hand to fist his cock which hovered over your breasts.

you held your tits in two shaky hands, squeezing them together and massaging them while rafe came, painting your breasts and stomach until he had milked out every last drop he could. he mumbled yes’s and fuck’s, along with your name until his high died down.

breathing harshly, you set ur sight to the ceiling, deep intakes of air causing the ends of rafe’s lips to turn upwards slightly. he leaned down to place one last kiss on your flushed cheek before letting himself fall onto the mattress beside you.

“let’s clean you up,” rafe said, turning to look at you, “the party’s not over yet.”

uhhhh yeah idk how i feel ab this i hope it wasn't terrible ig. reblogs appreciated :)

@o-rion-sta-r @saggyb1lls @rylynn-m @dobbysockcollection @arcaneslut @arianagreyy @el-imaskingforyourlefthand

[duskholland]

No Control || Frat!Tom Smut

summary ↠ tom can’t stop thinking about harrison’s girl, and it’s starting to become a problem. — in love with your best friend’s girl au. warnings ↠ this is fifty shades of morally-ambiguous grey, but I wouldn’t say it’s /too/ out there..?¿ there’s no actual infidelity but because of the au, there are themes of cheating, so avoid this if it’s a touchy subject for you. cw: a lot of alcohol, a ton of jealousy/possessiveness, heavy swearing, ongoing frat/party/bet culture, tom being a bad friend, harrison being a bad boyfriend, y/n being a bad girlfriend, and nsfw content. this contains smut! 18+ minors dni. word count↠ 17.6k. a/n ↠ please don’t do this irl, this is just fantasy !!!! y/n, tom and harrison are all flawed people, so please don’t go into this expecting them to all be perfect !!!! this was almost twenty thousand times more debased and fucked up, but I reeled it in last minute :’) that being said, this was still so much fun to write lmao. I listened to your girlfriend by blossoms + jessie’s girl pretty much on repeat as I wrote this! title is from 1d’s classic banger, which apparently influenced this more than I’d thought. thanks to all the anons who sent in ideas for this the other week!! a lot of them made it into this fic, so if you sent in a concept—thank you so much <3 I messed around with the pov so it flips halfway through! it should be obvious but I’m flagging it so you don’t think I went mad. hasn’t happened yet my lovelies but frat!tom does test me ! :’)) enjoy !!! <3

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

extended warnings ↠ masturbating (male), oral + fingering (fem receiving), protected mxf sex. possessiveness in the dirty talk. again, there is no infidelity but there is a lot of bad behaviour + boundary pushing <3

✧ *:･ﾟNo Control･ﾟ:*✧

Tom has seen a lot of pretty girls in his life, but tonight, he thinks that he’s seen an angel.

The frat is loud. The crowd is so thick he can barely breeze, and the fog machine has left a deep grey smog smothering the living room. Flashing strobe lights and the deep drums of bass cut through the air, but despite the way Tom’s head hurts, everything irritating fades as he looks across the room and sees a girl. You. You’re standing in the open doorway, leaning against one of the beams, a solo cup in one hand with the other resting on your waist.

He instantly knows that he wants you.

You’re in a red dress, with the flattering material clinging to your waist and shoulders. It draws Tom’s attention, but that’s quick to shift to your face as he watches you laugh at a joke made by one of your friends. He recognises a few of the people that you’re with from one of his lectures, but he’s almost certain he’s never seen you before. He’d definitely remember.

“Bro? What’s up?” Harrison is behind him, Tom’s best mate. They’ve been friends since high school, and when Tom had decided to up sticks and move across the ocean to a college in America, Harrison had followed. He’s good like that. “You’re just staring at the wall. Look like a proper tosser.”

Tom scowls as he drags his eyes away from you, directing all of his most scathing anger at Harrison. The blond is smirking. Perched on top of his head is a black SnapBack, printed with the frat’s logo. It matches the one that Tom’s wearing, just Tom has it pulled on backwards. He’s the only member of the frat that wears it like that, and it’s become an unofficial declaration of his status.

For the last year, Tom has held the revered position of president of the frat. It’s a lot harder than he’d thought it’d be, but it comes with perks. Several perks.

“I’m looking,” Tom replies, crossing his arms.

“At what?”

Discreetly, Tom brings his cup to his lips and uses his index finger to sneakily point across the room. He leads Harrison to you.

“That girl,” he says slowly. “Do you know who she is? Who invited her?”

Tom prides himself on knowing most people on campus—or, at least, anyone he needs to know. Anyone involved in Greek life or the party scene at his college has a face burned to his memory, and he prides himself on recognising matching names too. A lot of power comes with being able to immediately recognise someone. It makes him likeable, and he feels good knowing that someone feels appreciated by him.

“Dunno,” Haz mutters. He squints his eyes as he looks at you too. “She’s with Tyra. Maybe they’re friends?”

Tom scoffs. “Well, I’d guess that, yeah.”

“Are you going to do anything, or continue to stare like a creep?”

After taking a final swig of his drink, Tom pushes the empty plastic cup into Harrison’s hands. His mate thumps him on the back.

“I’ll be back,” he mutters. Then Tom pauses and throws out an easy smile. “Or not. Depends.”

Harrison rolls his eyes. “Go on.”

“See ya, mate.”

As Tom walks across the crowded room, he tries to hold himself a little straighter. He’s dressed simply tonight, in an all-black combination of t-shirt and jeans, but the gold chain he has around his neck adds a little depth. Around his wrist is his watch, and it glints as Tom reaches up to briefly whip off his hat and tousle his hair. His eyes are fixed firmly on you, and he finds himself grinning when you see him.

You’re even more radiant up close. Your eyes are a beautiful shade, and they fill with curiosity as you look Tom up and down. An expression of intrigue passes over your features as you mutter something to a friend and push away from the doorframe, being pulled to Tom as if by an unseen gravitational force.

“Hi, darling,” Tom leads with, keeping his voice cool. When you step closer, he meets you, easily and lightly pressing his hands to your waist as he kisses your cheek. “I’m Tom.”

You give him a wry smile. “I know who you are,” you reply. Your eyes are fluttering all over his face, and your hips feel soft beneath his hands. “Y/N.”

Tom likes how your voice sounds.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” he responds easily. He crosses his arms, angling them in a way that makes his muscles bulge. “I’ve not seen you around here before.”

There’s a shyness to your gaze that makes Tom smile wider, and he watches as you fiddle with your hair and tentatively meet his gaze.

“Do you know everyone that comes to your parties, Tom?”

“Yeah.” Tom slips his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Or, at least, I try to. I know I’d definitely remember someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” You’re speaking louder now, emboldened by how fully Tom’s giving you his attention. All around you, there are people looking, people whispering. Everywhere Tom goes, he garners attention.

Tom offers you an easy smile, tilting his head to the side as he nods. Sometimes he likes to play it cool and keep his cards close to his chest, but he doesn’t think you’d like that. He doesn’t think the chase is necessary. You’re looking at him with round, inquisitive eyes, and your gaze keeps circling back to his mouth.

“You’re stunning, love,” he says. “Do you want to dance with me?”

You reach out and take his hand, and Tom feels a jolt of warmth trail up his spine. It confuses him. He’s pursued a lot of girls in his life, and he’s felt attraction plenty of times before, but he’s never had his heart ache quite like that from just one touch. As you run your thumb over the back of his hand, you look up at him from beneath your lashes.

“A dance? With the president of the frat?” you tease. As Tom chuckles, you smile cheekily. “I dunno. What can you give me in return, if I give you what you want?”

“Oh, a businesswoman,” he teases. “I see how it is.”

You smirk. “Business major,” you supply.

Tom arches his brows. “I’m a business major.”

“I know. We’re in the same class.”

For a few minutes, you slip into conversation about your course. Tom learns that you share the same 9am every Monday morning—a class that he only managed to make it to the first week of term. You don’t linger on the topic of academics for too long, though. It doesn’t take much before Tom’s got you in the back corner of the room where it’s quieter, listening to you reel off your first impressions of the frat. You keep your hands on his shoulders, slowly but purposefully rolling your fingers over his shirt, keeping him on his feet as he catches a whiff of your peach perfume every time you move closer.

He almost gets his dance, but then there’s a tap on his shoulder, and it’s one of his brothers, whispering about an incident on the patio involving a table and the pool. Tom grimaces and reluctantly casts his eyes back to you.

“I need to go and sort this out,” he mutters, frustrated. You shrug, biting your lip as you rock back on your heels. “Will I see you later?”

“I don’t know. Will you?”

Tom smiles. “I will,” he promises. Wanting to give a lasting impression, he easily swoops his hand up to cup your cheek. When he receives a nod of approval, he leans in and deposits a lingering kiss to your forehead, inhaling a deep breath of your shampoo and feeling the tip of his nose tingle in response. You cling to his arms a little tighter, and when Tom goes to pull away, he isn’t able to until you’ve kissed his cheek.

“Have fun,” you say, stepping back.

“Thanks, darling.” Tom gives you a final look, his insides debating whether or not he really needs to go deal with the issue. When there’s a loud shout from out on the patio, he sighs. “Take care.”

Even when he’s out on the terrace, you stay on Tom’s mind. As he oversees two of the guys pulling the table out of the pool, he replays his interaction, mind swirling over your face, your figure, your voice. He finds himself scratching at his chin, not entirely present. After a while, he ends up back in the house, huddled with a group of the guys, and it isn’t until someone pushes Harrison forward that Tom truly comes back into the room.

“How long has it been, man?” Jacob, one of the guys, and one of Tom’s American friends, is grinning at Harrison. The man is standing in the middle of the group, bashful cheeks a light pink.

“Eh… a couple weeks,” Harrison supplies.

“Bullshit,” Tom adds, chuckling when Harrison flips him off. “Haz hasn’t got laid in months.”

“Fuck off,” Harrison mutters. “Not all of us are as...promiscuous as you, Tom.”

Tom shrugs. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

Harrison pauses, stroking his chin. “Dunno,” he finally decides.

Tom rolls his eyes. “We’ll wingman you,” he decides. He looks around at a few of the other guys and doesn’t stop until they’re all nodding and making similar sounds of agreement. “Anyone you like the look of tonight?”

Haz hesitates but eventually shakes his head. “Nah. Haven’t seen who’s around.”

“Alright.” Tom presses his palms together, an idea forming. “Next girl that walks into the room, we’ll set you up with.”

Harrison hesitates. “But what if she’s taken?”

Jacob steps forward, smirking. “The next single girl who walks into this room,” he clarifies. He holds out a hand and raises a brow. “Bet?”

Harrison looks down at Jacob’s hand. A bet, like the one he’s referring to, may as well be as binding as a contract. There’s no going back. He looks to Tom, a little nervous, but the fear vanishes when Tom nods.

“Alright.” Harrison does the frat handshake, and the guys around them all holler. Tom makes his own loud sound of support, grinning widely. “We’ll do it.”

They have to wait for a while. The first few girls that walk in are all accompanied by partners. Tom’s starting to get tetchy and he knows Harrison is too, but as soon as that thought crosses his mind, the universe decides to throw a curveball right into his face.

You walk in.

“Oh, shit,” Jacob says. He elbows Harrison. “There you go.”

Harrison immediately looks at Tom. “Uh… Isn’t she…?”

Tom sucks in a hard breath, the sound sticking behind his teeth. “Yep.” He looks at Harrison, who’s looking particularly deflated.

For a moment, Tom thinks about Haz and everything that he’s done to support him. Harrison flew across oceans to stay with Tom, moved into the frat with him, operates as his right-hand man. He’s his golf buddy, his gym partner, his best mate. For Haz to go back on such a public bet would be the same as resigning himself to social humiliation, and Tom would be a terrible friend for making him do that. Tom can give him this.

Right?

“I don’t need to—”

“Nah.” Tom decides to step up. “It’s a bet. It’s fine.”

Harrison grimaces. “Are you sure?”

Tom feels like a petulant child. Now he’s agreed to it, he feels his stomach rebelling. You find yourself at the centre of his attention again as he looks back over, instantly regretting it as the action connects your eyes with his. His breathing catches as your lips pull into an eager smile.

But Tom pushes through it. He looks away and stares at the floor as he nods, strengthening his attitude as he reaches out to smack Harrison on the back.

“Yep. Go for it.”

“Thanks, bro.”

He can barely watch as his guys approach you, and Tom decides to stay back in the corner of the room. It’s clear that you’re confused at first, but through quick discreet glances, Tom watches as you start to talk with Harrison. When Tom gets approached by another girl, you start to speak with Haz more freely, and he assumes that you’ve forgotten all about your conversation from earlier. When Jacob and the others split off, leaving you and Harrison alone in the back corner, Tom has to leave the room.

For a while, Tom drinks. He does a couple of shots out on the patio and chats with a few girls, and eventually, he’s pulled back inside the house. He ends up in the large living room, where the main party is happening, and it seems that you and Harrison have taken it to the next level in his absence.

Tom’s lips curve into a scowl as he looks across the room and sees you, wrapped up in Harrison. The blond’s hands roam all over you, moving from your cheeks, shifting back into your hair before curving down your figure. Tom can barely keep watching as Harrison’s palms curl around your waist and go down to squeeze your ass, and he swears he can almost hear the breathless moan you deposit into the air in response.

He looks away when Harrison starts to nibble at your neck and you toss your head back in pleasure, but Tom can’t stop himself from stealing quick glances every few seconds. In the pit of his stomach lies a terrible beast, acidic and possessive, clawing at his heart. There’s a tenseness to his jaw that he can’t quite shake, even when Tom tosses the remnants of the shit beer down his throat. There are easily a hundred people in the room with him, but he doesn’t care about a single one of them. The only one he cares about is you.

After a few moments of his eyes dissecting the contours of your face, Tom feels someone wrap their arms around his waist. He stiffens, turning his head and looking around until he finds himself staring at the face of a girl from his accounting course. She’s pretty, wearing silver eyeshadow, and Tom thinks that her name is Sasha.

“Hey, Tommy,” she greets. Her perfume smells overpowering and it makes Tom grimace. “Wanna dance with me?”

Tom looks back across the room, his stomach turning as he sees Harrison has pulled you down onto a sofa with him. As you straddle his lips and continue to kiss him, his blood runs hot.

“Fuck yeah, darling,” he mutters. Tom reaches out and wraps an arm around the girl, pulling her closer and letting his eyes fall shut as her lips find their way to his neck. “Let’s dance.”

He doesn’t need you. He barely fucking knows you. Tom has met a thousand girls, and it feels as though he’s kissed as many. The only things he knows about you are inconsequential—who cares if you smell like peaches and wear a glossy lip balm? Who gives a fuck that your voice sounds like a pretty wind-chime. Not Tom, that’s for sure. Tom’s got another girl kissing him and tugging on his hair. He doesn’t need you.

So why can’t he stop thinking about you?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The pillow that Tom has wedged over his head makes his ears ache and does nothing to obscure the sounds drifting into his room, so after a few moments of failed silence, he throws it aside. A loud huff passes by his lips.

It’s been a month since the party, and every Sunday morning since, without fail, he’s been woken by the sounds of your moans. Harrison’s room is right next door, and though he’d always complained to Tom that the walls are thin, Tom had never been the one on the receiving end like this. It’s always been Tom having lazy post-party sex with a random girl, or Tom taking a girl into the shower room and locking out his brothers all morning. Now it’s Harrison, making noise with you, and suddenly it’s not just the fact that he’s not had sex in four weeks that’s getting on his nerves.

Your moans are loud as they catch in the back of your throat, and they make Tom hard. He grumbles as he reaches down, hands dipping beneath the covers as he pushes a palm beneath his boxers. A softened groan passes past his lips as he pulls out his cock, pausing only to bring his hand back to his lips and spit on it before he starts to jerk off.

Tom had gotten over the guilt of getting off to you without your knowledge two weeks ago. For all he knows, you know that he can hear you, and you’re being so loud for him. He’s learnt that you’re cheeky like that, and the thought makes Tom tug his cock a little harder. Harrison’s bed is squeaky, and he can only imagine that you’re riding him. Tom bites back a moan as he imagines how pretty you must look on top.

He’s spent more time with you now, since that party, and it hasn’t helped his predicament at all. Every time he runs into you, you seem to grow hotter, and his attraction for you only burns brighter when he sees Haz grab your hand or kiss your lips. What had started as a bet for one night together has escalated, and now you’re both dating. Tom doesn’t think that he’s a bad person, nor would he ever say he’s a bad friend, but you’ve become his forbidden fruit.

Maybe it’s the fact that he can’t have you that makes Tom so incensed. He’s never been denied like this—been blocked so unscrupulously and irritatingly. Whilst you aren’t official with Harrison, Tom knows that his mate likes you. Hell, he can hear how much he likes you, right now, as Haz’s bed continues to squeak and your moans rise in volume.

Tom thinks he could get you to moan louder.

It takes an embarrassing two-minute window before Tom’s biting back a yell of your name, cumming in sync with a set of particularly loud whines that you emit next-door. He falls back onto the mattress, his clean hand going up to card through his curls as he tries to catch his breath. For a few moments, he lays there, scowling up at the ceiling as he tries to bathe in the afterglow of release, but it goes crashing down again when he hears your light giggles followed by Harrison’s deep guffaws.

Tom practically storms out of bed, wiping at his hand with some tissues before he stamps into a pair of grey joggers and leaves his room, slamming the door loudly in his wake. He hopes the sound scares Harrison so much he falls off his fucking bed.

The bad mood continues, even after Tom’s leapt through the shower and scrubbed at his ears. He ends up in the frat’s kitchen, the wide space still partially littered with solo cups and discarded bags of crisps from the party the night before. There are a few junior members of the frat hobbling around with black bin bags, looking pale and peaky. When they see Tom, they try and pretend they’re not hungover, and their act of skittish admiration is enough to make him feel a little better.

He’s just starting to assemble a protein shake when the air in the kitchen changes. Tom finds his eyes drifting towards the door, just in time to watch you walk in. The sun seems to follow you as you stroll into the kitchen, one hand at your side as the other plays with the tips of your hair, a relaxed smile on your face. As you look around the room and take stock of the several fratboys sitting on random pieces of furniture, your smile draws shyer, and Tom watches you glance down at your feet as you hurry towards the counters to where he is. You catch his eye, a blinding smile unfurling across your lips as you raise a hand in greeting.

As you sweep close, Tom blinks himself out of his stupor. He swallows down the lump in his throat as he steps forward to kiss your cheek, his hands falling onto your shoulders. When you step away, he takes in your outfit. Your legs are mostly bare, but you’re in a pair of shorts with an oversized grey t-shirt slouched on top of you. Tom’s eager eyes dip down, caressing your chest until they find the pointed tips of your nipples, straining against the fabric.

He clears his throat as he feels his cock prick to life.

“Morning, darling,” he manages, immediately turning around and facing the counter. He uses the smoothie as a pretence, but really he doesn’t want you to see the building bulge between his legs.

You seem to be oblivious, and Tom sucks in a breath as you step close. You place your chin on his shoulder and peer over it, comfortably leaning into him, and he swears he can feel your tits brushing up against his bare spine.

“Morning, Tom,” you greet, voice raspy and pure. “How’s your hangover?”

Tom chuckles, focusing very intently on ignoring the way your minty breath fans out across his cheek. You’ve got your arms wrapped loosely around him, hugging him easily and comfortably. He’d never complain that you’re at ease around him, but it doesn’t help his boner.

“Fine,” he responds, playing it cool. “I’m a pro at this, darling. Can’t remember the last time I had a hangover.”

You snort, and despite the loud volume, Tom thinks it’s a beautiful sound.

“You’re so fucking cocky,” you murmur, voice vibrating straight into his ear. “I feel like I’m going to die. Head’s killing me.”

Tom coos. He spends a moment violently mixing some green protein powder into the rest of his smoothie, then reaches up and rummages through a cupboard. When he procures a packet of painkillers, you release a deep sound of relief and finally step back.

“There you go, love,” he mutters. He makes sure to brush your hand with his as he passes it to you, smirking slightly when you jump. A lot of the time, Tom thinks his attraction to you is one-sided, but then something like this happens and casts doubt on that assessment. Neither of you has mentioned the night that you met, and sometimes he wonders if he should bring it up.

Tired and slightly delirious, Tom decides to test the waters. Just for fun, because he can, and because he likes the thought of making you flustered. He knows that his reputation precedes him and that you probably buy into the idea that he’s a flirt as much as everyone else does. If you respond badly, he’ll just blame it on his naturally charming disposition, and if Haz takes issue with it, well… Tom will just bring up the many red marks on his ledger.

“Thanks, Tom,” you say. He watches you rummage through a cupboard and pull out a glass, and his eyes follow your legs as you lean over the sink to get water and the hem of the shirt rides up.

“You know you’re fucking stunning, yeah?” Tom says before he can second-guess his plan.

You freeze, the waterline in your glass threatening to spill as you try to process his words. When you look back, there’s an expression of curious bewilderment on your face.

“What?”

Tom, his boner finally soft again, turns around to face you properly. He brings his arms over his chest, smirking wider as he watches you look at the curves of his biceps. He’s shirtless, and he knows the hours he’s spent in the yard doing weights with Haz shows in the firm definition of his abs and pecs. You seem to enjoy looking at him.

“You look hot.” Tom watches your face very carefully, not wanting to cross too many lines. “I bet Harrison told you that though, this morning.”

Something shifts on your face, and you bite your lip. “Well…”

“Well?”

“Harrison doesn’t say much in the mornings. Or, well, ever.” You pause, a deep line carving between your troubled brows. “He isn’t very vocal.”

Tom hums, stepping a little closer. “Harrison is good at a lot of things, but he has certain shortcomings.”

You lick your lower lip, and Tom’s gaze lingers on the glistening trail of your saliva.

“Like what?”

Tom makes a non-committal noise and pauses to take a sip of his smoothie.

“Well, you know. He’s very intense. He doesn’t always see what’s right in front of him.”

You raise an amused eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be friends?”

“We are. He’s my best mate. But that doesn’t mean I can’t criticise him for acting carelessly.” Tom drops his voice, letting you see the way he checks you out. “I just think that he doesn’t appreciate how lucky he is sometimes.”

You turn away, breaking eye contact as you take your pills. As you hum a soft tune, you pick up the kettle and fill it up, only looking back to Tom when it’s been plugged in and starting to boil.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” you reply, voice curious. You step closer until you’re standing in front of Tom, your eyes again going to his bare chest. “What does Harrison have that you don’t think he appreciates enough?” The suggestive look in your eyes matches the seductive inflexion in your voice, and Tom feels a shiver pass down his spine.

He plays it off coolly, shrugging slightly. “I’m just saying, darling, that if I had the honour of waking up beside someone as beautiful as you, I wouldn’t let you out of my sights all morning.” Tom reaches out slowly, gently letting his fingers bridge the gap between you as he toys with the hem of your shirt. You move closer, subtly encouraging him to continue, so Tom lets his hands shift up to hold your waist, feeling your curious eyes on him the whole time. “What was he thinking, eh? Letting such a lovely lady leave his bed. Crazy.”

You chuckle, a bashful smile on your face as you gnaw your lower lip. “Well, he wanted tea.”

Tom hums. “And I think that that’s bullshit.” He pauses suddenly, eyebrows raising as he finally looks away from your face and finds his gaze sticking on an emblem branded to your big t-shirt. A deep chuckle vibrates through his chest. Of fucking course. “You know what this is, love?” he asks, tugging at your shirt. When you shake your head, he grins. “Boyfriend material.”

Your reaction is immediate: soft frown, arched brows, confused stare.

“Harrison is not my boyfriend,” you say.

Tom clicks his tongue. “Never said he was.” He rolls his hands up your sides, gently caressing your warm figure. Though he wants to run his palms higher to your chest, he stops himself. “This is my shirt, babe. Laundry gets them mixed up all the time, but it’s mine.”

Your lips part and you look between Tom and your shirt with horror in your eyes. “Oh, fuck,” you murmur. Immediately, your hands fly down to the hem. “Do you want me to take it off?”

He shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “As much as I’m sure I’d like that, there are too many other people in here.” He feels jealous again just thinking about it.

You nod, pausing the movement after a second as your eyes narrow. “Wait, how do you even know? It’s just a plain t-shirt?”

“What, you think I’m making this up?” Tom’s smirking again, and it widens as you fluster. “‘S alright, love.” He reaches up and points at the emblem which marks an event from rush week last year. “Logo,” he states. “And… I think you’ll find if we take a look at the label on the back, it’s got my name on it.”

You let him manhandle you, melting back into his hold as Tom stands forward and turns you around. He brushes your hair out of the way and reaches up, gracing his fingers over your spine as he delicately pulls out the back label. You won’t be able to see it, but it fills him with smugness to see his initials stained stark against the label: TSH.

“Well… I’m sorry, anyway.” Your voice is hoarse, light and feathery as if you’re holding your breath. Tom lets his hand rest on your shoulder after he’s tucked the label back. He’d move away, but you’re leaning into him completely, your hands grasping at the palm that he has curled around your stomach. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

Tom leans down, and in a bold move, very gently kisses the base of your neck. Your skin is soft and warm beneath his lips, and the breathless gasp you release is just as sweet.

“It’s okay,” he rumbles. He pauses, eyes fluttering shut as he inhales your peachy scent. “Feel free to use it any time you’d like.”

Not wanting to push too hard, Tom leaves a final, wetter kiss to the bottom of your neck before moving back, unwrapping his arm from around your waist and repositioning his hands back on the counter. He leans against the wooden cabinets, wondering if you’d been able to feel his hard-on that’d peskily bounced back when he’d heard your whimper.

If you feel anything, you don’t say anything. In fact, you’re quiet as you step to the side and pour out the boiled water into two mugs. “Thanks,” you say, speaking through the steam. You glance back to Tom, and he swears your eyes are darker. “It’s soft.”

Tom sips his smoothie, eyeing you over the brim as you poke at a tea bag with a metal teaspoon.

“Fabric softener,” he says, nodding slightly. His brain is running slow, still caught up on how nice it’d felt to kiss your neck. “It suits you.”

You throw him another shy smile. “How does Haz take his tea again? No sugar, yeah?”

Tom bites his lip. “Wrong,” he lies. “Haz likes three sugars. Don’t be afraid to put in a little more, though.”

You eye him sceptically. “I don’t think that’s right.”

“He is my best friend, love,” Tom says. He hides his mischievous grin behind his smoothie, and he watches you roll your eyes. “Listen, if he’s got a problem with it, he can take it up with me or he can come and make his own cup of sodding tea. Lazy bastard.”

You snort, and Tom feels his stomach turn as he watches you spoon three teaspoons into Haz’s mug.

“Well, I’ll let you know what he says,” you mutter. Finally, you pick up the mugs in your hands and walk forward, pausing in front of Tom. Your eyes skim his figure again, briefly zeroing in on his chest before caressing the fine lines of his lips. “Thanks for keeping me company. This was fun.”

Tom nods and steps forward to kiss your cheek. He hopes you can feel how desperately he wants to press his lips to yours.

“Any time, darling,” he assures. “If you ever need anything, you know where I am, yeah?” He lets his teeth brush your earlobe as he pulls back slowly, smiling to himself when he sees you shiver.

“Yeah,” you murmur. You swallow deeply, and your eyes hold his gaze for one moment longer before you tear them away. “Have a nice morning, Tom.”

Tom watches you walk across the kitchen, almost stumbling when you get distracted trying to look over your shoulder back at him. He smirks, raising a few fingers in a lazy wave.

“See ya!” he calls back.

His blood doesn’t stop pumping until you’re all the way out of sight, and even after that, he knows the only way he’ll be able to properly shake you is by attending to his hard-on. Again.

You’re like a shadow that won’t stop chasing him.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The party is in full swing, and Tom feels like a king.

There are several benefits to parading the title of president of the frat. Tom gets the largest room in the house, along with an ensuite. He’s able to prioritise himself on the gym schedule and the cleaning rota. Every party, he’s looked up to, treated like royalty, his every wish and command carried out by his brothers. If he doesn’t like a song, it’s changed. All it takes is one arched brow in the direction of a partygoer, and they’re ejected from the house. The beer is his favourite make, and everyone loves him.

Tom has the whole world in his hands, which is why it’s incredibly infuriating that his kingdom tonight isn’t ordered how he’d like it.

It’s two months into the semester, and the buzz that’d characterised earlier parties has faded. Finals are coming up soon, so maybe that’s why Tom feels unsettled. Or, maybe it’s the fact that the music isn’t hitting quite as well as usual. It could be that he hasn’t tied his shoes as tightly as he normally does, or maybe that the vibe within the house is just...off.

But Tom knows exactly what the problem is if he brings himself to think about it. He’s tried drowning his ugly feelings in cheap beer, but there’s no denying it: his mood had taken a significant plummet when he’d glanced across the room and seen Harrison with his hands all over you, your lips locked together. The shard of jealousy that had lodged itself in the warm precipice of his heart is unshakeable, and there’s a horrible bitter taste on his tongue.

Tom is so fucking jealous that he’s about two seconds away from pointing at the couple and getting someone to kick you out.

“Bro. Bro. The fuck is wrong with you, man?”

It’s probably a good thing that Tom’s been interrupted, as he’s fairly sure there’s enough poison in his gaze to burn off a large patch of Harrison’s hair. He shakes a grimace over his lips as he looks to the side, eyes falling to his friend, Jacob. Jacob’s in a loose Hawaiian shirt, the red and white pattern glowing under the luminescence of the UV lights.

“What?” Tom says, playing it cool. He takes another drink, shuddering slightly as he lets the alcohol ease him.

“You look like you want to beat someone up.” Jacob squints, trying to look in the direction that Tom knows he’d been staring in. “I only see Haz. Are you guys, like… Good?”

Tom releases a short bark. “‘Course, man,” he says, voice lifting lighter. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Jacob scoffs. It’s loud in the crowded living room, but Tom can feel the undertones. “Uh, we all know about the bet. We all also know that you’d had your eyes on Y/N before Haz pulled her.” He pauses, wiggling his brows until Tom punches his arm and scowls. “I’m just sayin’... Seems like you have some unresolved shit going on.”

Tom doesn’t deem him with a response, not knowing where to start with that. It’s Saturday night. The last thing he wants to do is talk about this. He already drives himself mad every other day of the week as he ponders this particular puzzle.

“We need to get the energy up,” Tom mutters. He spins around, beckoning over a few of his friends with his hands. Someone gives him a shot, and he downs it before looking back at Jacob. “We’ll do a game or something. Get people. We’ll do it on the patio.”

Ten minutes later, there’s an assembly of partygoers on the terrace at the back of the house. It’s a mix of sorority girls, jocks, and fratbros, but Tom doesn’t pay them much attention as he claims his spot on a rickety canvas camping chair and sits back. He lets Jacob take the lead, doing another two shots when he sees you and Haz join the circle.

You’re in a black dress tonight, the material skimming just above your knees. As you walk out onto the patio, the midnight breeze swishes the hem up a little, and Tom watches as you giggle and drop Haz’s hand to smooth it down. Harrison presses an easy kiss to your cheek, and the smile on your face builds. It freezes when you spot Tom, your eyes darkening as your teeth dig into the pink flesh of your lower lip. Tom raises a brow, watching you stand a little straighter as your gaze runs over his form, lingering on the golden chain he’d pulled on earlier.

The spell breaks when Harrison sits on a chair and tugs you down with him, an expression of irritation briefly souring your angelic face before you smooth it back. Tom doesn’t look away until Jacob starts to speak.

“Spin the bottle,” Jacob announces, looking around at each person. There are a few groans, but they’re drowned out by the cheers. Tom just rolls his eyes, sitting back and briefly surveying the circle. He’s pretty sure he’s pulled at least five of the girls already, and the rest of them seem fine, too. Obviously, there’s only one person he’d want the spin to land on, but he’s already accepted that the universe isn’t on his side when it comes to you.

A few rounds pass. Tom isn’t really paying attention until the neck of the bottle lands on him and he has to kiss a girl from his psychology class. It’s a quick kiss, and her lip gloss makes his mouth tingle, but Tom only realises how hammered he is when he has to sit up from his chair and lean over to spin the bottle.

Tom looks around the circle as his fingers ponder the glass, grasping the attention of the group like he’s holding court. He looks at you and finds you looking at him, your lower lip held between your teeth as Harrison rubs your arm. Haz has you in his lap, your legs thrown across his thighs as you sit on him sideways. Harrison’s blond curls rest up against the side of your face, and Tom has to look away as he grimaces.

The bottle spins. It clatters quickly over the paving stone, hurtling with an angry force that Tom hadn’t entirely intended to use. He holds his breath, his eyes widening as it stops. Pointing at you.

“Looks like that’s Y/N,” Jacob announces.

Tom sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks at Harrison. His mate’s eyes have lost their charm, a deep frown settled on his face. Tom thinks he looks exactly like the tough-faced models from Vogue with that mardy scowl on his face. He raises a brow, as if to say, up to you, and watches as you turn in Harrison’s lap and whisper something into his ear.

A moment passes, and Tom’s surprised when Haz nods and pushes you up from his lap. He meets Tom’s eyes, giving him another smaller nod, and Tom sits back, pleasantly resigned to the fact that Harrison isn’t going to ruin the game.

“Hi,” you greet as you approach him, smiling.

Tom reaches out, offering you his hands as you finish treading over the collection of limbs and shoes that crowd the patio. Your fingers are so soft in his.

“Hi, darling,” he responds. Tom feels hot, everywhere, and he hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “You look stunning,” he adds, voice quieter.

“Thanks.”

You hesitate, eyeing him up and down as if trying to assess the best way to kiss him. The girl he’d just kissed had bent over to press her lips to his, and as Tom remembers this, he drops one of your hands and reaches up and wipes his mouth again, trying to eradicate all traces of her lips. When he’s achieved this, he tentatively reaches up and presses the palm to your waist. Respectfully, of course. There are a lot of people watching.

You seem to be less reluctant to indulge, and Tom feels his eyes widen as you step forward and sink into his lap, your knees bending as you press your shins into the canvas of the camping chair on either side of Tom’s thighs. Suddenly your face is hanging in front of his, warm breath coming out over his face, and Tom has just enough time to wonder why your breath smells of pineapples before you’re leaning in.

He kisses you, and for a few seconds, he’s frozen. Everything that he’s learnt at the frat and over the course of his college life goes flying out the window, and he’s left feeling like a kid again. The background noise filters out, and all he can focus on is the weight of your body pressing into his legs and the feeling of your lips, soft and silky, moving over his. When you reach up to weave a hand into his hair, he comes back around, the roar of the party filling his ears as an adrenaline rush floods his chest.

Tom knows this will probably be his only chance to kiss you, so he leaves nothing behind. He brings both hands to your waist, urging you closer as he recovers his charm and kisses you properly. His tongue works into your open mouth, pressing against you and exploring the sweet space of your lips as you moan into him. He feels your fingers drift down, one of your hands staying bedded in his curls as the other plays with his chain. Never before has Tom felt so consumed by a kiss, and if the circumstances were different, he wouldn’t hesitate to reach around and grab handfuls of your skin, wouldn’t hold back his kisses, or his moans, or his coos of praising endearment. He’d give you everything.

When you pull back, your nose brushes up against his, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones in the world.

“How was that?” you ask, voice quiet. There’s a shyness to your disposition, a nervousness as you meet his eyes.

Tom reaches up, holding your cheek and brushing his thumb across your chin. He tidies up your smudged lipstick as he squeezes your waist.

“Perfect,” he replies, voice low. He can feel Harrison staring at him, but he doesn’t give a fuck. “You’re… You’re incredible, darling.”

You sit a little taller, looking proud of yourself. “Well, now I understand what all the hype is about,” you mutter. “You’re a good kisser. A really good kisser.” You pause as a shiver works its way down your spine, and Tom glances at your bare arms.

“Here,” he mutters. When you stand from his lap, he’s glad his jeans have some wiggle room so his raging boner is less obvious. Tom’s quick to shrug off his jacket, and he passes it up to you without a second thought. “Don’t freeze,” he says, wagging a finger at you.

“Tom, I couldn’t—”

“Yeah, you can.”

You bite your lip. “Won’t you be cold?”

Tom just flexes his biceps, smirking again as he sees you checking out his muscles. “Got these bad boys to keep me warm,” he teases, pointing at his guns. He softens, just for a moment. “It’s fine. Said you could always use my stuff, didn’t I?”

You look flustered, opening and then immediately closing your mouth before turning around and making your way back over to Harrison. Tom sits back in his chair, trying halfheartedly to suppress the smirk that continues to hold his lips as he admires how nice his jacket looks draped loosely across your shoulders. You always wear his clothes so well.

Tom looks at Jacob, who shakes his head in response. Then he looks at Harrison, and he can’t stop himself from laughing. Harrison’s a shade of salmon pink, and it only softens out a little bit when you settle back into his lap and kiss his cheek. Tom watches Harrison flip him off then pull you closer and kiss you harshly, and messily. You don’t seem as into it as you’d been with Tom, he realises. You’re holding back, grimacing slightly as Harrison pulls back a triumphant moment later.

The game concludes a while later, but Tom stays out on the patio, feeling dizzier by the second. The camping chair is comfortable, and the chill in the air helps him feel soberer. Whilst Tom doesn’t regret the multiple cups of beer and several shots, he does consider that he might’ve gone a little too far in his efforts to forget about you.

You’re gone, now. Out of sight, back in the party. Tom’s making light conversation with a few of the guys still left in the circle, but they clear out when a shadowy presence falls across the patio. It doesn’t take long for Tom to realise it’s Harrison, and he tries his best to sit up straight and look less smug as Harrison drags a chair over and places it opposite Tom.

Harrison stares at him, hard. He’s in a matching snapback and a loose white t-shirt, his ring glinting as he crosses his fingers and examines Tom’s face.

“So…” Tom starts, disliking how charged the air is. “Y’alright, Haz?”

“Shut the fuck up, Tom,” Harrison says instead. When Tom pulls a face, he sharpens his gaze. “What’s wrong with you?”

Tom chuckles. He’s feeling drunk and annoying. “Well, that’s a bit of an unspecific question, Harrison. There are many things that you might say are wrong with me—”

“You know what I’m talking about.” Harrison breaks off, sighing loudly as he flops back in his chair and runs a hand through his hair. He looks smaller, nervous. “Do you have a thing for my girl?”

Instinctively, Tom shakes his head. “Y/N?” he says dumbly. When Harrison nods, Tom hums. “Is she your girl?”

Harrison flounders for a moment. “I mean… Technically no, but we’ve been hooking up for two months.” He pauses, grimacing. “Look, mate. I know I fucked it when we met her. I knew you wanted her, and I still took on the bet. But I really fucking like her now, and… And…”

“And?”

“If you decide that you want her, you’ll get her. You always do.” Harrison grumbles as he crosses his arms. “Can I not have one thing? Just one.”

“You do know that Y/N is perfectly capable of making her own decisions, yeah?” Tom says, only slurring slightly.

“Oh, yeah. Of course, of course.” Harrison’s bobbing his head almost comically. “But still… Do you know what I mean?”

Tom closes his eyes for a few moments, the patio spinning. He speaks through gritted teeth. “Haz, I love you, man. You know what I’m like. I’m a flirt.” He cracks open an eye and gives Harrison a dopey smile, and the next words he speaks are the truth. “I wouldn’t seriously try to steal your girl, alright? I wouldn’t sleep with her if you guys have a thing. We were just playing the game.”

Harrison releases a deep breath. “Thanks, man, I—”

“Wait.” Tom feels bolder. “You do need to tell her, though.”

“Tell her what?”

Tom narrows his eyes. “You know what,” he says, speaking to a very sheepish-looking Harrison. “She’d want to know that your relationship is built from a bet. If you… If you seriously think that you’re g’nna have a fucking relationship with her, she needs honesty.” Just the thought of you and Harrison going official makes him feel sick.

“No way.” Harrison’s curls go flying as he shakes his head. “Fuck that. Are you mad? She’d break it off.”

Tom grimaces and looks away from Harrison. “I’m just saying,” he mutters. “You shouldn’t lie to the people you care about.”

It’s rich coming from him, but Tom knows that nothing he’s said has been a lie. He won’t sleep with you if you’re still with Haz. Maybe he’d try to break you both up, but he wouldn’t purposefully sleep with someone in a relationship. Logistically, he doesn’t think he’d be able to, even if he wanted to, because despite the tantalising banter he’s able to carry out with you, you’re a good person. You’d never cheat on Harrison.

“Yeah.” Harrison looks guilty now. “I guess.” His eyes shift away from Tom, falling to someone else. Tom startles when he feels two hands come down to rest on his shoulders, and glances down, only relaxing when he recognises the silver rings curled around your fingers.

As if a deity, you’ve appeared, just when Tom was thinking about you. He wonders if it’ll always work like this.

“Hi,” you greet, looking first to Harrison, then Tom. “What are you guys talking about?”

You’re standing behind his chair, perfume light and peachy. When Tom cranes his head back, your perfect face blurs.

“Nothin’,” he murmurs, a sleepy grin on his lips.

You chuckle. “How drunk are you right now?” you ask.

Tom makes a non-committal sound. “I don’t want to stand up and find out,” he admits. “So I’m just going to stay here until I get sober.”

“What if it rains?”

“Well, I guess I’ll get wet.” He reaches back and grabs lightly at his jacket, still covering your upper half. “Some thief ran off with my jacket.”

You snort, then pat his shoulders before walking around to the front of his chair. You offer him your hands, and Tom takes them easily.

“Babe?” Harrison pipes up. “What are you doing?”

With ease, you help Tom up from the chair. He fakes it a little, exaggerating just how woozy he is so that you have to wrap your arms around his waist. He hides his mischievous smirk in the crook of your neck, suppressing his guilt. He wasn’t lying to Harrison—he will stay in his lane. But old habits die hard, and you’re very warm, and he’s very drunk, especially with the blood rushing to his head.

“Putting him to bed,” you respond. “He’s tired.”

Suddenly, Tom finds himself yawning. He leans into you, pouting softly at Harrison as he tries to look as exhausted as possible. He’s always been a convincing actor, and his friend buys it completely.

“Alright,” Harrison says. “Do you need help?”

You shake your head. “Nah,” you respond. “I’ll be fine.” You squeeze Tom’s waist. “He’s just a big teddy bear.”

Tom doesn’t think he likes that (if anything, he’s a lion), but it seems to ease Harrison. The man presses forward, kissing your cheek before giving Tom a firm pat on his shoulder.

“Right, then,” he says. “I’ll be inside.” Harrison glances at Tom, reluctance filling his blue eyes before fading slowly. “Sweet dreams, bro.”

“Thanks, Hazzy.”

“Don’t ever fucking call me that again.”

Tom’s still chuckling as you lead him back inside, and he knows that you’re trying not to giggle too.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom already knows that you’re cute, but as you help him up the staircase and get him ready for bed, your adorableness really comes through.

“Drink this,” you announce, walking back into his bedroom with a glass of water in your hands. Tom admires the way that you walk, glad he’s already in bed and hiding beneath the covers. Your hair is a little wild, and he knows that’s probably his fault—Tom’s cheeky, and he’s especially persistent when he’s hammered, and he might’ve been a bit mischievous in the bathroom when you’d tried to convince him to brush his teeth, refusing until you’d had to physically push the brush into his mouth. You’d rolled your eyes, and he’d been distracted by watching you in the mirror.

“What is it?” he asks annoyingly. Now Tom is almost naked, clad only in his boxers, and he does a deliberately long stretch of his arms above his head, smirking as the duvet falls down to expose his toned torso.

You roll your eyes again as you sit on the edge of his bed, pushing the glass into his hands. “Water,” you supply. You stare at him, raising a brow. “Probably won’t help with the hangover, but I feel like I need to try.”

Tom takes a few sips, looking at you over the rim of the glass. You look tired, up close. Still glowing, and beautiful, and gorgeous, but tired. Your lipstick is faded, and he can see the shadows of your dark circles peeking through your makeup.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You glance at him, chuckling shortly before looking down at your hands. You play around with a few of your rings, sighing.

“Just tired,” you respond. You manage a forced smile. “Doesn’t matter.”

He frowns. “It does.” Tom obediently downs the entire glass, wanting to coax a smile to your face. “Why’d you come out if you’re tired?”

“Haz wanted me to.” You bring your eyes back to Tom. “I wanted to come and support you, too.”

Tom blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Aww.”

You scrunch up the end of your nose as you stand from his bed, smoothing down your dress with your hands. “Well, I do care about you, Tom. I know there’s a lot of pressure on you to make the parties good.”

Warmth bursts through Tom’s chest. “That’s so cute,” he mutters. He looks up at you, the light being cast from the ceiling light cascading over your shoulders like a halo. “You’re cute.”

“And you’re plastered,” you respond, smiling. You walk closer, running a hand over the top of the duvet until you reach Tom. When you’re standing up by his head, you tentatively reach down to push his shoulders. “Lie down,” you coax. “Bedtime.”

Tom sinks into his mattress with ease, smiling when you gently pick up his head and plump the pillows. You reach down and pull the duvet up to his chin, tucking it in around his chest firmly, your tongue held between your teeth as you go. You’re very attentive, and the sight of you looking after him so well doesn’t help his predicament at all.

“Thanks, darling,” Tom murmurs. He sighs contentedly. “So comfy,” he whines. “Why don’t you stay with me if you’re tired?” He cracks open an eye just in time to see the expression of shock on your face fade to one of amusement.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you respond. “Can you imagine how confused you’d be waking up in the morning?”

“Would be a good kind of confusion, though.” Tom rounds out his eyes, trying to look as soft and unassuming as possible. “I’m a great bed partner, babe. I won’t kick you. I’ll give you space. Or, if you want, I’ll cuddle you. I’m great at cuddling people.”

You just laugh, your face vibrant and light. “You’re so funny,” you say. “I wonder if you’ll remember this tomorrow.”

Tom scowls, grumpily snuggling further into bed. “I invite a pretty girl into my bed and she rejects me,” he grumbles. “Your loss, baby.”

“You sound more and more like a fratboy every time we speak.” You stand back, crossing your arms over your chest as you look him up and down. “Right. I left painkillers on the side, and there’s more water too. Sweet dreams, Tom.”

You turn to leave, but Tom makes a noise of objection. You pause, raising a brow in question.

“Goodnight kiss,” Tom begs. “Please?”

You laugh again but step back towards him. You bend over, necklace dangling in Tom’s face as your hands smooth up to rest in his hair. He’s overwhelmed by the scent of your perfume and the close proximity, and for a moment, he thinks you’re going to imitate the breathtaking kiss from earlier. But then you move up. You kiss his forehead, gently, stroking a few strands of his hair as your lips linger against his skin for a moment longer than necessary. When you pull back, Tom has a dumb expression on his face, and he’s glad that you follow up the kiss by turning off his lamp.

“Night, Tom,” you say, walking across the room. There’s a single shard of light, peeking into his room through the open door, and it illuminates your silhouette as you pause there.

“Night, Y/N,” he responds, voice slightly thick.

You gently close the door behind you and leave Tom alone, with nothing but his thoughts and his fantasies to entertain him. He grumbles as he turns over, a very prominent and selfish thought pushing to the front of his mind:

Tom loves Harrison, but he’s fed up. He can’t carry on like this, yearning incessantly. He doesn’t want to stay in his lane, he wants you to be his girl. Desperately.

Tom has to do something. He has to make you his.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You think that whoever scheduled Intro to International Business for 9am on a Monday hates all college students.

It’s dreary as you make the hungover trek to campus. The ache in the front of your skull rattles with each sombre step, and you never get used to the chill of November’s dark mornings despite having plenty of experience with them now. You’re bundled up in a hoodie, a jacket, and a scarf, yet the flecks of grey raindrops still manage to soak you. By the time you reach the lecture theatre, you’re grouchy and regretting ever leaving your bed.

At the time, going to the frat party the night before had seemed like a great idea—Harrison hadn’t stopped blowing up your phone about it all weekend, and you’d felt compelled to keep him company. There were other factors that made you eager to go, too.

It’s all a blur now. Spin the bottle, disrupting Harrison’s tense conversation with Tom, taking the latter upstairs. You think about the sight of Tom bundled up in bed, duvet pulled to his pouting lips, and your entire body bursts into flame, rippling with an unrestrained desire that makes you feel guilty for just existing. You’d been so affected by the events of the night before that you’d had to go home, too overwhelmed to stay with Harrison in the room beside Tom’s.

Most of the seats around you are empty. You’re early despite rolling out of bed after sleeping through your first alarm. As you settle into the back of the theatre, you begrudgingly pull out a pad of paper and a pen, wishing you’d thought to bring sunglasses. This is the class that you supposedly share with Tom and Harrison—also business majors—yet they’ve never made an appearance beyond a half-assed attempt in the first week. Sometimes you wonder how they’re both able to pass a class they never show face in.

“Fuckin’ hell, love. Who the fuck scheduled this so early? They’re taking the piss.”

You startle as a grouchy voice enters your space, and your eyes snap up just in time to see a dark figure drop down into the open seat beside you. The deep navy blue hoodie is pulled above his head, and he immediately crosses his arms, but you know without a doubt who it is.

“Tom?” you ask, voice full of shock. You sit forward, reaching out to place a hand on his arm as you peer at him. When you meet his pale face and see the thick sunglasses covering his eyes, your eyebrows raise. “Since when do you come to class?”

Tom clicks his tongue, lips curving into a smirk. It’s a little disconcerting that you can’t see his eyes, but you can tell they’re dark and seductive. They always are.

“What d’you mean?” he teases. “I’m always here.”

“As if.”

He shrugs and breaks off for a moment to yawn. “Thought I should start being a good student, ‘n all,” he mutters. “Finals next month, and everything.”

“And how’s your hangover?”

Tom pulls a face. All of a sudden, he leans over, rummaging through his bag with loud actions until he procures a bottle of water and a bag of mixed nuts. When he sits back up, he pushes down his hood and jerks off his sunglasses, exposing the damage. You wince as you take in the deep bags beneath his eyes and the way his brown irises are marred with red. He still manages to smile, though, and after ripping open his snack, crunches a couple in quick succession.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “I don’t get hungover, but if I do, it clears pretty fast. I’m built differently.”

You snort. “Yeah right,” you mutter. You find yourself looking at his lips, and briefly, you’re transported to how incredible they felt last night when you’d straddled him and kissed him. Quick to shake that off, you find yourself blinking as you stare at him. “You were trashed last night. I had to take you to bed. Do you remember?”

Tom gives a hapless shrug, not quite looking into your eyes. You wonder, not for the first time, what thoughts are running through his mind. He confuses you immensely.

The night you’d met, you’d been convinced you’d end up sleeping with him. He’d swaggered over to you, dripping charm, looking incredibly hot in an all-black ensemble, chain, and cap, then he’d kissed your forehead and promised to see you later. Just, you hadn’t seen him later—instead, his friends had not-so-subtly set you up with Harrison as Tom had stood across the room, watching. A part of you had felt side-lined by him, but Harrison is attractive, so you’d jumped on him the moment you could.

Harrison is nice. He’s kind. Dependable. He’s the kind of boy that you could easily take home to your mother and hear nothing but kind words about. He isn’t always the most attentive, but he’s funny, and he cares for you, so it’s fine.

Tom is… Tom is an entirely different ballpark. There are no words to describe Tom Holland. You’d thought you knew enough about him before meeting him at the party, but the man you’ve come to know since doesn’t match up to the reputation that surrounds him. Tom is cheeky—it’s obvious in his flirtatious jokes, and his lingering touches, and his habit of kissing your cheek every single time he sees you. He’s funny too, but his sense of humour isn’t mean or callous like most of the lads in his house. Beneath the hardy exterior lies someone who genuinely cares, and looks out for the people he loves.

He makes you feel alive, each one of your cells burning and sizzling every time he’s around. Tom makes you feel the pounding rhythm of your heartbeat everywhere—in your ears, in your chest, between your legs. He gives you everything, whilst giving you nothing at all. It’s entirely perplexing.

You need to stop comparing them. It’s not a competition. You’re seeing Harrison, and Tom has no genuine interest in you. You’re friends, and he’s flirty, but that’s it. You’re friends, and you shared the best kiss of your life last night, but that doesn’t mean a thing. It doesn’t matter that Tom fires you up the right way, because it’s one-sided, and you’re with Haz.

Tom ignores your question about the night before and instead tips his bag of nuts towards you.

“Care for a nut?”

You snort as you pick out a cashew, crunching it softly as he watches. Tom’s deep brown eyes linger on your lower lip as you slowly lick the salt from it.

“Delicious,” you say, earning a loud cackle from your companion.

“Dirty girl,” he mutters, grinning wickedly.

“No, you just have your mind in the gutter. Not everything has to be an innuendo, Tom.”

“Wrong. Everything can be and is an innuendo if you try hard enough. You should know this by now, darling. You’ve spent enough time with me.”

“Maybe, but not all of us share your immature sense of humour, Tom.”

He gasps, eyebrows sliding up his forehead in mock shock. “Are you calling me a child?”

“Childish,” you clarify, smirking as he shoots daggers at you. “You’re such a boy.”

Tom sits back, blinking a few times in quick succession before clearing his throat. His eyes seem to darken as he leans in closer, bringing a hand up to rest on your shoulder. His fingers are warm as he pushes the hair from your face and gently tucks it behind your ear, leaning across the seat until he’s able to whisper gently.

“I am not a boy,” he coos, voice soft. “I’ve just never broken out the proper charm on you, darling.”

Your throat runs dry as his hot breath fans out across the side of your face, minty fresh.

“And what is this proper charm?”

Tom opens his mouth to speak, but it fades a moment later. He pulls back, appearing to lose his cool last minute as his cheeks flush.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he mutters instead. He shifts around in his seat, looking back at you for a split-second before glancing away. Tom’s reluctant to meet your eyes, and you watch, confused, as he chugs about half his bottle of water before pulling off his hoodie. He’s still flushed—face warmer and more alive than it’s been all morning.

Your brows furrow as you look at Tom’s shirt. “Hey, is that the one I borrowed the other week?” you ask, speaking before you have time to process the words.

Tom chuckles, regaining his charm as he throws his hoodie on top of his bag and turns to face you, a hand lodging in his hair. It’s longer than it’d been at the start of the semester, a few strands dangling over his forehead.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Smells of you.” Something crosses over Tom’s face, and he flashes you the tips of his pearly teeth as he smirks. “Smells of us, darling.”

Your reaction is immediate and uncontrollable. A hot flush, moving through your entire body, forming in your centre and rolling across your figure from the inside out. You hope that you can play it off by pulling your notebook into your lap. The back of your mouth is dry, but you manage a weak, quipping response of, “you should wash that,” before you spiral too far.

It’s in the small things. His comments. His lingering touches. His smirks. Tom drives you crazy.

The lecture starts, but you don’t pay it much attention. Instead, you stay huddled up in the back with Tom, killing time as he shows you a collection of photos from the night before. After flicking through the snapshots from a very blurry night, Tom moves on to a different folder in his phone, nimble fingers swiping across the screen and showing off some of his favourite memes. You end up almost crying from laughter, clutching to his arm as you bend over in your seat and try to pass by undetected by the notoriously strict professor. Tom’s hand soothes over your back, and you briefly wonder if you should dissolve into laughter more often just so he can bring you back down.

When the class finishes, Tom throws his arm across your shoulders and walks you across campus. It’s only when you’re halfway towards the car park that you realise where he’s taking you.

“Wait— I can walk back home.”

“Nah. It’s fine.”

“It’s out of the way, though.”

Tom squeezes your side. “‘S alright. You’re my best mate’s girl. ‘Least I can do.” He pauses, apparently oblivious to the sour expression you pull in response to those words. “Plus, you looked after me last night, so… I kinda owe you.”

Deciding to just accept it, you hum in agreement. “Okay. Thank you.”

“No problem, love.”

He’s very warm and his cologne smells like a forest breeze. You enjoy strolling across campus with him, especially when he kisses your temple as you separate at his car. It’s a battered old thing, and you’ve been in it a few times before. You’re fairly sure that Haz owns it too, but the way Tom settles into the driver’s seat and keys the ignition makes him look like the proper owner. Tom commands any space he inhabits with poise and elegance.

“You’re out near Sarah, aren’t you?” Tom asks as he jerkily reverses from his parking space.

“Yeah.”

“Nice area,” he comments, which makes you laugh. Tom glances at you, raising a brow. “What?”

“Small talk?”

“Mmm. Well, is there anything else you’d like to talk about, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Fuck, you can’t handle the way that sounds dripping from his lips.

“Nope.” You stretch your hands out in front of you, yawning. “Too hungover to think.”

“Fair enough.” Tom drums his fingers over the wheel, and you find yourself watching the lines of his slender digits. He has very pretty hands. “Good party though, eh?”

“Oh yeah. Crazy. Did you have fun?”

Tom releases a noise of reluctant agreement. “It was alright. Not the most successful night for me.” He risks a brief glance at you, chuckling. “Isn’t really the best look to get escorted to bed.” You aren’t sure if you should feel guilty for that, but Tom’s quick to add, “not that I don’t appreciate it. I do. I just shouldn’t have been so eager.”

“Why were you?” you ask. “It seemed like you were trying really hard to get drunk. Did something happen?”

Tom cackles, the sound so loud and quivering so precisely that it makes you jump. “God, if you only knew…”

“Eh?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

You’re intrigued now. “What?” you press, reaching across the console to pat his thigh. You’re over halfway back to yours now, and like a bloodhound, you want to know answers. “Was it a girl? I’ve not seen you with anyone since… Well, ever.” You furrow your brows. “Did someone reject you?”

Tom’s face clouds over immediately, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat as you watch his jaw set into a hard line.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snaps, his easy demeanour gone.

“Woah,” you mutter. “Sorry.”

Tom cards a frustrated hand through his hair, his eyes glinting dark. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I was not rejected.” The way his voice quivers makes it sound like a lie.

You pull a face as you cross your arms over your chest, your hangover exacerbating your rapidly falling mood.

“Aren’t we friends?” you ask.

He sucks in a fast breath. “Yep,” he replies, speaking through tight lips.

Something has changed. It’s as if you’ve crossed an invisible boundary that you hadn’t seen, tripped a trick wire only visible to him. The air between you is thick, and Tom doesn’t say another word until he’s turned down your street and pulled into a space outside your house.

“Well… Thanks, I guess,” you mutter. You reach into the footwell and pull up your bag, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn back to face him. For a few moments you bounce between jumping out of the car or staying, but you hate leaving things tense like this. Not with him. “Are we… good?”

Tom turns off the engine. For a moment he stares at his hands on the steering wheel, but then he brings his gaze up to you. His eyes are sad and raw, and it makes your heart hurt.

“We’re fine, Y/N,” he says, voice softer. “Sorry. It’s the, uh… The hangover. Makin’ me act like a twat. I’m sorry.”

You release a sigh of relief. “It’s okay, Tom.” A light chuckle slips by your lips. “I was worried I pissed you off for a moment there.”

Tom’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You? Never, darling.” He drums his hands over his thighs, and you remember the circumstances.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll get out of your hair,” you say. You hasten to undo your seatbelt and reach towards the car door, only to pause when Tom reaches out suddenly to touch your arm. “Yeah?”

“I, uh…” Tom’s close, leaning over the console. Your eyes drift over the freckles of his face, and you get distracted by how warm his brown orbs are, like glinting pools of honey. “I really am sorry,” he adds. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “It’s fine.” You glance down to where he’s softly caressing your arm, his eyes fixed firmly on your skin. His hand feels nice. Soothing. He soothes you. He always does. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tom nods. “Yeah. I’m great.”

You don’t quite believe him, but you’re willing to accept that the hangover has knocked him.

“Well, thank you,” you say. You turn back to face him. “For the lift. And the nuts.”

Tom finally smiles again, and the sight makes your heart soar. “No worries, babe,” he says. He winks. “Any time.”

You lean over the console and kiss his cheek, your mouth hitting a spot of skin closer to his lips than the side of his face. If Tom notices how flustered it makes you, he doesn’t say a thing. You’re still shaking as you pull your bag over your back and hobble from the car, shouting back a tight, “bye!”

Tom raises his hand through the open window and winks again as he pulls away from the curb, leaving your body throbbing persistently and your heart more confused than it’s ever been.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Two weeks pass. You don’t see Harrison much, but Tom continues to come to class. Life goes on, nothing unchanged, and finals come and go with ease. Before you know it, it’s the final mixer of the semester.

Harrison’s going to miss it. He tells you as much when you turn up at the frat two hours before kickoff to find him stuffing shirts into a bag. He looks guilty as you walk into his room, question written all over your face.

“You remember Rory, yeah? From UPenn? He invited me to their party. Apparently, they’ve got Travis Scott. It’s gonna be lit, so… I’m going.”

“Overnight?” you ask, looking at his heavy bag. Harrison nods, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah. Sorry… I probably should’ve told you.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah.” You glance down at your hands and swallow the irritation that festers in your chest. Harrison has never been great at communication. Throughout the duration of your arrangement—whether you’re just dating, or just hooking up—he’s kept his cards close to his chest. He confuses you.

When you’d first spent the night with him, Harrison had acted like he’d wanted something more with you. You’d been on a few dates, he’d brought your flowers, the works. But with time, it’s as if he’s tired of you. The spark has slipped away, and if he wasn’t on his way across state, you’d sit him down and have a discussion about the direction of your entanglement. But he is, and you have no time, so you display your irritation by crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry,” he adds. He finishes zipping up his bag and throws it over his shoulders before stepping towards you. With warm hands, he cups your cheeks and brings you in for a deep, passionate kiss. “You can always come if you want.”

You grimace as you shake your head. “I told Tom I’d help him here,” you say. “It’s fine. Just… Have fun, alright?”

A shadow of jealousy briefly flitters across Harrison’s face, but it’s quick to smooth away when he clears his throat. “‘Course,” he says. He takes your hand and leads you from his room. “What are you guys doing?”

“Hm?”

“Tom. What are you doing with him?”

“Oh. Just hanging up banners, and stuff. He wanted me to help him with the drinks too.”

“Nice.”

The air between you is stale, and you’re glad when Harrison pulls you down the corridor and pauses outside Tom’s room. There’s loud music coming from the room, so Harrison has to rap loudly several times, an act that makes you cringe.

“Come in!” yells Tom. Harrison does just that, pulling you in after him with a firm grip. “Oh, hey guys?”

You instantly wrench your hand from Harrison’s, not wanting him to feel your palm grow hot as your eyes fall onto Tom. You’ve caught him mid-workout, perched on the edge of his bed, shirtless and doing curls with a hand weight. There’s a healthy red flush to his face, and his bicep bulges as he flexes with the weight. All across his chest are lines of thick muscle, and you find yourself staring.

“Hey, dude,” Harrison says. “I’m just on my way out.” He turns to look at you, an easy smile on his face. “Y/N told me you guys have plans tonight, so… I guess, I’m just wondering. Can you keep an eye on her? Look after my girl, y’know?” He pauses to chew on his lip, guilt at leaving reflected in his eyes. “Make sure she’s okay, ‘n all that.”

Tom stands from the bed, tossing the weight onto the mattress with ease before approaching you, smirking. “‘Course, Haz.” He wraps a very hot, slightly sweaty arm around you and pulls you into his side. “I’ll take care of her.” Tom glances at you, shrugging softly. “Take care of you,” he adds.

You don’t know what kind of dangers you might face tonight that warrant a personal guard, but you don’t think you mind it if your attendant is Tom. He’s hot and sweaty and he smells of man, but you burn for him.

“Thanks,” you respond, slightly breathless.

Harrison looks between you both, then shrugs. “Great.” He steps forward and briefly touches his lips to you. Tom freezes, holding you tighter in his arms the moment Harrison kisses you, and that action makes you feel perplexed. “Have a good time, guys.”

“You too, Haz,” Tom responds. You echo similar sentiments.

When the door closes behind Harrison, Tom doesn’t move. He simply holds you tighter, then drops his mouth down and presses a light kiss to the base of your neck. Your choked whimper travels into the air, and you flush as he steps away.

“We will have fun tonight, won’t we, Y/N?” he teases. His eyes are dark as they briefly skitter across your figure. After a moment, Tom walks across the room and picks up a towel and a fresh set of clothes. Tom pauses in front of you, tilting his head as he looks at you. He has to know how frazzled he makes you feel. He’s got to.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice high. “A lot of fun.”

“Mmm. Hope so.” Tom steps forward and cups your cheek in his hot palm, kissing your forehead before stepping back. “I’m going to shower. Make yourself comfortable, yeah? What’s mine is yours.”

A full-body shiver travels down your spine, but luckily it isn’t until he’s turned on his heel and strode over to the door.

“Have fun,” you call out. Tom turns back to wink, then disappears in a flash.

As the door closes behind him, you wonder if you really lost your spark for Harrison, or if the feelings you had for him just paled in comparison to the ones you harbour for his best friend.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The party picks up quickly. You split off from Tom a few hours in, being pulled away by one of your friends and staying with them for a while. You start to miss him, though, so you excuse yourself from a game of beer pong out on the patio and walk back into the large frat house, cringing slightly as you hear the loud music. You haven’t been drinking much tonight. Something tells you that you’ll need your sober brain.

It takes you a while to find Tom, the house busy and wild. He’s not in the kitchen, nor the hallway. Your adventures take you to the large living room, where they have the music and the drinks set up. As you wander inside, your eyes take a moment to acclimate to the dim lighting. When they settle, you see him, and the breath leaves your lungs.

Tom is standing in the middle of the dancefloor, talking with a girl. She’s draped in his arms, the tips of her fingers running through his hair as she chats to him. Tom is looking at her intently, paying rapt attention to what she’s saying, but the smile on his face doesn’t quite stretch to his eyes. When he spots you, his brows briefly raise, only for them to lower again as he smirks. He winks at you, then reaches for the girl, bringing her in closer and dropping his mouth so he can start to kiss her neck.

Jealousy consumes you. It burns through every other rational thought that you have. The sight of the girl wrapping herself around him as Tom kisses up her neck makes your fingers curl into fists at your sides, and you start to walk across the room before you can comprehend it. Tom sees you, continuing to make flirtatious eye contact with you as he deposits light, wet kisses to the girl’s shoulder. It feels targeted and provocative, and whatever game that he’s playing seems to work.

“Tom!” you call out when you’re just a few centimetres away. He leisurely pulls away from the girl, dark eyes twinkling mischievously as he looks up at you.

“Yes, Y/N?”

You grimace. Now you’re over here, on the receiving end of stares from Tom and his companion, you wonder why you’d responded so immediately and directly.

“You need to come with me. We have, uh… Things to do.”

Tom raises an eyebrow, stepping away from the girl as he crosses his biceps over his chest. He’s wearing his golden chain, the one that always drives you mad, and he looks so fucking handsome under the UV lights.

“And what would those things be, Y/N?” he asks. The girl at his side is looking between you both.

“You know,” you hiss.

The girl frowns, then huffs out a sigh and pushes at Tom’s arm. “Can we go upstairs?” she asks him. Tom glances at her, chewing his lower lip as he finds himself on the receiving end of her fluttering lashes.

“No, Jess,” he says, evening out the rejection with a soft smile. “I’m sorry. Have a good evening.” Before she can respond, Tom reaches out and takes your hand, pulling you with ease towards one of the corners of the room. You squeal as he tugs you, easily falling into his side and enjoying the press of his warm arm to yours. He drops his voice, pausing only when you’re on the edge of the dancefloor to spin you and press his hands to your waist. “Are you alright, darling?” he asks, smirking. “Looks to me like someone was a little jealous.”

Your body heats up, and you find yourself nibbling at your lower lip as you try to make sense of the situation. “Nope,” you lie. With ease, you reach up and rest your hands on Tom’s broad shoulders. “I was just… Thinking about the night we met. You said we could dance then, but we never did.” You tilt your head to the side, throwing out a convincing smile. “Do you want to change that?”

Tom growls, tugging you closer as he wraps his arms around you. The tips of his teeth brush up against the shell of your ear and you whimper as his hot breath fans out over the side of your face. “Fuck yeah, babe,” he murmurs.

You settle into it easily. Tom ends up pulling you so your back rests flush against his front, his arms skating around to hold your waist as you grind back against him. It’s close and hot, and it doesn’t take long for him to put his lips back where they belong—on your neck, kissing deeply. Everything that he does feels calculated and purposeful, but it’s only when he brings his kisses near your ear and whispers a low, “you’re so fucking hot, baby,” that you come back to earth.

“We… Shouldn’t,” you whimper. Tom kisses your lobe in response. “Harrison.”

“What about him?” he mutters. His voice is raspy and seductive, and the way he strokes his hands over your sides makes your eyes roll back. “He doesn’t care about you like I do, Y/N. You know he doesn’t.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the way Tom sucks deep bruises to the sensitive spot on your neck. Harrison had never been able to find it, had never even tried.

“He cares about me,” you say, voice hoarse.

“Yeah. But not enough.” Tom spins you in his arms, reaching up to cup your cheek in a hand. He peers at you, eyes wide and insistent. “He lies to you. Did he ever tell you about the night that you met?”

You quirk a brow. “No.”

A shadow of hesitation passes over Tom’s face, but he swallows it down. “He only came up to you as part of a… a fucking bet. That’s the only reason I didn’t come back to you that night.” He strokes his fingers over your cheekbone, soothing you when you frown. “You’re the prettiest fucking woman I’ve ever met in my life, and it’s been killing me to see you both together.”

You press your forehead to his, feeling his breath come out in hot pants over your face. “Do you like me, Tom?”

He chuckles. “You have no idea how much, babe.” Tom shifts his hands back to your hair and he cradles your face. “I’d be so good to you. I swear.” He’s speaking earnestly, his voice breaking softly as he looks at you. “I love Haz. He’s my best mate. But we all know that you’re not a good fit. He left you here tonight. He doesn’t satisfy you.” Tom drops his voice, tilting his head to the side as his voice drops lower. He brings his lips closer, kissing the side of your mouth as you shiver. “I could satisfy you properly.”

You release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. For a moment you stare at Tom, eyes swirling down to his lips, then, as if entranced, you reach down and pull your phone from your bra. Using one hand on the screen, you reach up to cup Tom’s face with the other, smiling softly when he instinctively tilts his lips and kisses the palm of your hand. You write out a short message, the guilt in your heart fading when you briefly check Harrison’s Instagram story and see him surrounded by a sea of girls at the party he hadn’t invited you to.

After sending the message, you tilt the screen towards Tom’s face, watching his skin glow white as he slowly reads the few words.

You: Haz, I’m sorry to do this over text, but it’s over. I think we both know that we’re better as friends.

Tom’s brows raise. “Did you..?”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip and slowly tuck your phone back against your chest. “It’s over.”

Tom kisses you immediately, both of his hands anchoring your cheeks. You could almost cry with how good it feels to have his mouth touching yours again. He parts his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth, and you moan as you wrap your arms around his neck. As he holds you tightly, his hands slip down to hold your waist, and though your teeth and noses collide and clash, you don’t care. It’s beautifully imperfect, and it’s so hot that it makes your whole body throb. Tom’s curls give you the perfect leverage to jerk him closer, and as you make out mercilessly on the edge of the dance floor, you feel a piece of you slot into place.

“Come upstairs with me,” he groans, voice thick as he speaks against your lips. Your mouth is wet with spit, but you don’t bother to wipe it clean when you pull back. Tom’s eyes glint with hunger, and he grabs at your hand when you nod.

The journey upstairs is fast and easy, full of your giggles as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. The moment you’re in his room, Tom pushes you back against the door and flicks the lock, attaching his lips to your neck with ease.

“Tom,” you whine, running your hands all over his back as he sucks harshly against your skin.  

His hands skim lower and you curve your spine away from the door so he can grab handfuls of your ass, your moan mixing with his grunt when he pulls away from your neck to kiss your lips again. It’s as if he’s ravenous—unable to pick between your lips and your neck, your hips and your ass. Tom changes his position every few seconds, and the irregularity fills you with excitement.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groans. Tom pulls back breathlessly, looking straight into your eyes. “Can I… Are you okay with this?” he clarifies, holding your gaze firmly until you nod.

“I’m more than okay with this,” you say.

“Good, good... Pretty baby.” Tom runs his index finger down your face, his knees bending as he slowly sinks down in front of you. He scatters two light kisses to each of your breasts before travelling down your navel, only stopping when he’s fully on his knees, gazing up at you from beneath his lashes. “Darling?”

“Hmm?” You’re light-headed but aroused, your dress feeling tight as you shuffle against the door.

“Can I taste your pussy, baby?”

Your breath catches in the back of your throat, and the first time you try to speak, only a moan comes out. Tom smirks, fingers easily pushing up the hem of your dress. As his fingertips stroke up your thighs to rest on your waistband, he pauses, tilting his head to the side in question. “Yeah,” you manage, voice a whisper. “I want that so badly.”

“Mmm, should’ve just said, darling.” Tom’s head dips, disappearing between your legs. You whimper as he rubs the front of two fingers down the front of your panties, the material wet and warm. “God…” He unhooks them easily and tugs them down your legs, pausing to allow you to kick them off. When he repositions, he holds your thighs further apart and presses a kiss to your soft flesh. “You’re fucking soaked, lovie.” His hot breath fans across your centre. “Pretty cunt’s just waiting for me, isn’t it?”

His cockiness turns you on, and you’ve barely gotten out a garbled moan before he’s delving in. Tom’s skilful tongue runs up your slit, light at first, gradually leading you into it. You cry out as he finds your clit, sucking softly around the bud before lapping his tip across it gently. You have to reach out and grab ahold of the nearby bookshelf as arcs of pleasure spread out from your centre, small whimpers and moans being pulled from your mouth as Tom continues his assault.

“Tastes like paradise,” he whines, speaking against your cunt. “So sweet, baby. I understand why Haz likes being with you so much.” Tom pauses, drawing a few more strokes across your clit as you whimper. “Mine now,” he murmurs, deep voice vibrating across your centre. “My pussy.”

“Tom,” you moan, legs shaking. He responds by bringing his right hand up, slowly curving two of his digits into your heat. As he starts to thrust his fingers, the sounds of your wet arousal fill the air, making you moan louder. “Feels so good,” you encourage, realising he works harder when you speak to him. The top of his curls brushes against your legs as his tongue continues to glide over your clit, merciless and pleasurable.

“You sound so pretty, love,” Tom says, pulling away slightly. The vibrations from the noise make you moan louder, and you glance down to see him staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust and his chin covered in your juices. He looks back between your legs, readjusting his fingers and curving them at different angles before he strikes gold. When you call out his name, his other hand goes up to your hips, holding you back against the door as he smirks. “I want you to cum for me, darling,” he coos. “Let me make you feel good. I want to hear those pretty little moans. Be loud for me.”

You don’t take much convincing, as once Tom’s got his mouth back on your clit, you’re arching your back as you fall over the edge. He laps your bud with his hot, firm tongue, his fingers continuing to stroke at your walls until you spasm into climax, reaching out to grab his hair as you moan and writhe against the door. He holds you up, even when you feel like falling, and it has to be the most intensely pleasurable orgasm that you’ve ever experienced in your life.

“Fuck,” you pant, only able to calm down when Tom pulls back. He sits on his shins, smacking his lips as he looks up at you, smirking. You’ve still got a hand on his head, so you fiddle with his hair as you recover. “That was so good.” A breathless smile finds your face. “So good. Thank you.”

“No problem, darling.” Tom clambers to his feet, and your eyes find themselves drawn to the bulge in his jeans. “Knew I could make you cum,” he says, speaking almost to himself. “Looked like an angel. Taste like one too.”

You swallow a moan and step forward, hands twisting behind your back to release your zipper. Tom’s eyes widen as you push down your dress, stepping out of it with ease.

“We’re not done yet, are we?” you ask, biting your lip as you look over to the bed. Tom shakes his head and offers you a hand after you’ve pulled your phone from your bra and placed it down on his desk.

“No way,” he agrees. Tom pushes you down onto the mattress but stays standing at the edge, nimble hands quickly releasing his belt and pulling off his jeans, then his shirt. You admire his Calvin Klein boxers, black with a white band skimming across the top, and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Fuck,” he adds. His eyes skim your figure, appreciation held in his gaze. “I can’t believe I’ve got you here.” He gets on the bed, pushing you down and climbing on top of you as he kisses his way up to your mouth. When he’s hovering above your face, he cups your cheeks. “Most beautiful girl in the whole world, love. Girl of my dreams.”

You kiss him, your hands finally able to learn the curves of his muscular back. Tom grinds down into you, his covered crotch meeting your bare pussy, and the friction to your clit makes you moan into the kiss. As you admire his form, you settle into his lips, your heart beating faster and more persistently against your ribcage.

“Tom,” you say, speaking against his mouth. He pulls back, lips red and puffy. “You’re so handsome. Have I ever told you that?”

Tom bites his lip, continuing to roll his hips down against yours. When you start to grind up to meet him, an expression of enjoyment darkens his face. “Thanks, love.”

You lick your lips as you wrap your arms around him, holding him closer as he continues to grind into you. “Every time I’d see you out doing weights or walking around shirtless, it’d turn me on,” you admit. You snake a hand between your bodies, managing to press your palm up and against the outline of his cock. Tom groans loudly, dropping his head into the crook of your neck and whining as he ruts against the pressure. “I want to feel you,” you whimper. “Properly. I want to feel how good it is to have you inside me... I can feel you. I know you’re big.” You bite your lip. “I’ve thought about it for weeks.”

Tom forces his face away from your neck and meets your eyes, his pupils completely dilated. “You are going to be the death of me, lovie,” he says seriously, drawing a chuckle from your lips. Tom leans up and kisses you, softer, but only for a moment. He reaches across his bed and rummages through his bedside table, procuring a condom a second later.

“Let me do it,” you offer. Tom nods, and you swap positions with ease. Tom settles on the mattress, raising his hips and watching as you tug his boxers down his legs. You feel yourself salivate slightly as you take sight of his cock, erect and flushed, pressing up against his lower stomach. Holding the open condom in one hand, you run your thumb over his tip with the other, gathering beads of his silver precum on your fingertip. You meet Tom’s eyes and sit back on his thighs as you push your finger into your mouth, exaggerating your moan as you lick it clean.

Tom tosses his head back, his hair fluffing up against the pillows. His cock twitches against his stomach. “Fuck, baby… You’re driving me crazy.” When you reach back and roll the condom over his length, he can barely keep still, rutting up and filling your hand the moment you’re done. “You know… every time you stayed the night with Haz, I could hear you guys,” he says, looking at you through hooded eyes. You give him a few pumps, biting your lip as you admire his member and try to imagine how good it’ll feel filling you to the brim. “Used to get off listening to your moans. Imagining it was me fucking you. Thinking… Thinking about how good it’d be to- fuck- to open you up on my cock.”

His words make you feel hot, and you speed up the rhythm of your hand as you watch his face flush with heat. “I know,” you admit. “I could hear you sometimes.” You lean up and press a kiss to his chest, feeling his hot skin between your lips. “You make the hottest noises, Tom.”

“For you,” he groans, jaw tensing. “It’s all for you.” He continues to rut into your hand, and you smirk as you feel him throb. As Tom grows more erratic, you feel your slick between your legs thicken and your core begin to throb.

“Can I ride you?” you ask.

Tom immediately bounces his head, eyes lighting up like you’ve spoken the only thing he’s ever wanted to hear. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes—”

You bend over to kiss him, sliding up his body with ease. Tom reaches up your back, eager hands falling to a stop at your bra. He manages to unclasp it after a few attempts, grinning victoriously against your lips as it falls slack. Once you’ve thrown it aside, you sit back, watching as Tom’s hand goes down to guide his cock through your slit. One of his hands rests on your hip, palm hot and heavy, and he gives you a short squeeze as he presses his tip against your entrance.

Slowly, you sink down onto him, moaning loudly as his girth stretches your cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut as you adjust, breath hitching when Tom adds his thumb to your clit, the pleasure easing the stretch. When you’re completely seated, you find yourself shifting, Tom groaning when you clench and slowly start to ride him.

“Oh my god,” he moans. “Feels like heaven, darling. Actual heaven.” His jaw is tense as he tosses his head back, prying open an eye to watch as you bounce over him, moving faster as you find your rhythm. “So wet, sweetheart. So tight… So much better than I’d ever imagined.” He’s looking at you with pleasure screwed across his face, and the sight of him so desperate makes you feel powerful.

“Tom,” you whimper. “I can feel you so deep.” You’re starting to unravel, feeling him everywhere. With the thumb still rolling over your clit, his hand weighing down your hip, and the tip of his cock brushing deeper each time you come together, you can feel yourself on the verge already. “Can you… I can’t…”

“Y’wanna flip?”

“Yeah. Please.”

It happens easily, without Tom falling from you. A moment later, you’re resting over the warm mattress, wrapping your legs around Tom’s back and pulling him closer as he rails you into the bed. He’s faster than you’d been, and the new angle opens you up deeper, allowing his tip to press more pronouncedly against your g-spot. His chain dangles against your neck, the cool metal scorching against your flushed skin.

“Oh god,” Tom groans. The sounds of your bodies meeting as he roughly thrusts into you, again and again, fill the air. “You’re so perfect. Feels so good.” His eyes are dark as they meet with yours, swirling with unrestrained lust. “So wet, lovie. D’you like it when I fuck you? Yeah? Pussy’s squeezing me so tight. My pussy, isn’t it? You’re mine.”

“Yours,” you agree, liking how it sounds.

Tom grunts and drills into you faster. With each rotation of his hips against yours, his thick head reaches further, dragging across your g-spot with ease and causing sparks to race up your spine. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and you clutch at his torso for purchase as you scramble to stay grounded. When you add a hand to your clit, you feel your cunt clench, squeezing his length and making him groan again.

‘I’m not gonna last, love. Shit. Feels too fucking good,” he whimpers.

You bring his lips back to yours, meeting them clumsily as you moan. Your skin is hot and sweaty, being smothered by the heat of his body bearing down on you. You wind your free hand into his hair. “It’s okay,” you get out, voice catching. “I’m so close, Tom. Fuck. Make me cum. Please.”

You ride the edge for a few moments more before Tom cries out, calling your name in a voice so exerted and broken that it pushes you over the edge too. As his cock pulses against your walls and his groans fall like music to your ears, you let everything go, basking in the pleasure that crashes over your figure in thick, consuming waves. Tom’s hands are slick as they grasp at your sides, but he’s holding you tightly in place and you like it.

When the air finally clears, Tom pulls out, collapsing onto the mattress beside you with a loud groan. You flip onto your side, quivering as your core pangs with pleasurable aftershocks, your tired eyes drifting up to meet his. He reaches out, sweaty palm drifting to your face as he cups your cheek and smiles at you.

“Well,” he starts, voice low. He pulls you closer, and you carefully curl yourself into his arms. Tom nuzzles his lips against your forehead and leaves three light kisses to your skin. “That was a heavenly experience.”

You snort, burying your face in his chest and feeling the cool metal of his chain press to your skin. “Heavenly?”

“Mhmm. Because you’re an angel. My angel.”

You smile into his front. “What a charmer,” you say.

Tom combs some fingers over your hair and softly coaxes you away from his chest. Both of you share a pillow, his deep brown eyes feel of inquisition as he looks at you.

“Darling,” he mumbles, speaking slowly, almost nervous. “I like you a lot. And… And I know the circumstances are messy and complicated, but… I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I want this to be an every time thing. I want you to be my girl.”

“Your girl?”

“Yeah. My girlfriend.” Tom’s handsome eyes flutter over your face. “What do you say?”

You trace your index finger around the sculpted lines of his face, smiling softly as his lips pull into a grin. You think about how your life has changed since the first night you met him, and how your heart has slowly learnt to gravitate towards him. Tom’s right—it is messy, and maybe your union is complicated and a little wrong too, but it feels good. Him kissing your forehead and pulling you closer feels good. He feels good.

“Yeah,” you agree, speaking slowly. “I would really like that.”

Tom’s face splits into a smile, and he pushes in to kiss you. “Good,” he murmurs. “‘Cos I’m gonna woo you every single day of your life. I’ll bring you tea every morning, tuck you in at night. Make you moan louder than you’ve ever moaned in your life—”

“Alright, alright. You’ve already won me over, Tom, you can calm down—”

“Nope.” Tom’s grinning widely as he continues to peck your lips, unable to keep his hands off you. “I’ll keep charming you until I’ve won your heart, babe. This is just how it’s got to be.”

You kiss him, not knowing how to tell him that he’s already had your heart, firmly in the palm of his hand, since the very first night you met.

“Well,” you respond, voice quiet in the air. “I quite like the sound of that.”

Tom nuzzles his nose against you, lips brushing yours. “Yeah?”

You hum affirmatively and reach up to bury your hands back into his hair. “Yeah.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

:D let me know what you think please !!! I would love to know if you have a favourite scene...?! I am torn between y/n putting tom to bed + the lecture theatre...lmk (if you want !!)

mlist + taglist are through the link in my bio <3 

thank you for reading!! <3<3

[mcyt-amber-tftsmp]

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 {𝐂𝐂! 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫}

Request?: @ghostywastakenbygogy

Character: CC! Ranboo

Side Character(s): None

Story-type: Romantic

Story Length: 1270 words

AU or Not: None

Time Period: Present day in general

Plot Summary: One day Ranboo came home and decided to play minecraft and he was getting bored so he called you to ask if you would be able to join him which you could and little did you both know that this night was a night to remember Cc!Ranboo with a s/o or friend who accidentally cls him "my love" i dunno some romance for the hopeless romantic :))

Small Info: Corona doesn't exist so yeah

Keywords: Y/N = Your Name

Trigger Warning: none

Normal Warning: idk man I write cringey stuff and probs short!

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Third Person Point of View~

Ranboo came back home after a long day of school. Not gonna lie but he was pretty glad that he was finally home cause he seriously just wanted to play minecraft on the Dream SMP.

He quickly walked into his room as he hopped in the bathroom to take a quick shower. After that, he got out as he wore a black T-Shirt with a good pair of jeans and wore his white jacket over it.

After all that, he sat down in his unicorn gaming chair and booted up his PC and opened up minecraft. He wasn't planning on streaming today at all since he didn't have the energy too because of the painful school day he just went through.

He opened up the tab to see if anyone was here and saw that only Foolish and Sam were on. He smiled as he typed in something in the chat box.

<Ranboo> hello! <FoolishG> HeY rAnBoO!!! <Awesamdude> hey!

He smiled as he carried on to do what he does which was mining some wood while going under ground to mine some diamonds, iron, gold or anything pretty useful such as netherite and all.

He traded with a few villagers as he got a few goods from them while stealing one to keep in his house. After a while of doing that, he felt slightly bored and wanted to talk to someone.

He then got an idea and decided to text you to see if you were able to come on the server to talk while helping him mine some more. He quickly typed in something as he waited for you to reply.

Ranboo: Hey Y/N! I hope I am not interrupting you or anything!

Y/N: Hey Ranboo and nope I'm good!

Ranboo: That's great! I was wondering if you were to hop into the server so we can just mess around a bit by mining and all?

Y/N: Sure! Gimme a few minutes!

Ranboo smiled as a small blush tinted his cheeks. Did he mention that he had a crush on you? Like a big one? Well now he did cause he's been crushing on you for a while now.

He remembers on how he had shown you around school when you were new and had just moved into where he lived. He was one of your first friends to be exact.

He was a huge hopeless romantic since he had fallen for you after three months of being friends but he didn't dare say anything cause he thought you might not feel the same way as him and didn't want to ruin the friendship you two have.

Little did he know that you felt the same as well. After a while he looked at the screen to see that you have joined the game as you greeted everyone who was here.

<Y/NWasHere> hey guys! <FoolishG> hEy Y/N! <Awesamdude> Hello! :>

He smiled as he quickly whispered to her to join VC 3 as she replied with an 'okay' and after a few minutes, he heard her join the VC which made him smile.

"Hey Y/N!" He said with a smile.

"Hey Ranboo! I hope you are doing well?" She asked him.

"Oh yeah I am doing good? Are you streaming by chance?" The dirty blonde haired male asked the girl.

"No but are you?" She asked as he shook his head.

"No cause I'm pretty lazy to even stream today." He said as he earned a small giggle from the female.

"So what are we doing today?" She asked as Ranboo pondered for a bit.

"I was at first thinking that we would just mess around on the SMP just mining and doing whatever but now I just feel like playing Bedwars so are you up for that by any chance?" He asked her.

"Yeah sure! I am kinda in the mood for playing Bedwars!" She said optimistically as Ranboo left the server as he joined the Bedwars game and added Y/N to his party so they could play together on the same team.

The minute the game started, you first decided to protect the bed by using the wool to cover it. Ranboo told you to protect the bed and to attack anyone who comes near it while he goes and destroys other peoples' beds.

Both of them were successful even though you died like two times but was able to protect the bed while Ranboo died once but was successful in destroying beds and killing the players and the next thing you know they won the round and decided to play some more.

Both of you played a few more rounds of Bedwars. Both of you either lost the rounds or won them with small stroke of luck by both your sides. After a while both of you decided to stop playing for the day since it was getting late and all plus it was still a school night so that was much more worse.

"This was a good game! I had fun!" Ranboo said as you smiled.

"Me too! We should play like this more." You said.

"Yeah we should." He said as he closed his PC.

"Anyways I should get going cause my parents will yell at me for staying up this late." You said.

"Alright! Bye Love!" He said without thinking until he realized what he just said.

"H-huh?!" You slightly said in shock as Ranboo started to blush and apologize.

"I-I sorry I meant to say bye Y/N. I am really sorry-" He started but was interrupted by you.

"Hey hey Ranboo! It's okay! Anyways bye!" You said and before you could leave you were stopped by the man himself.

"W-wait! I really want to say something to you. I just need to get it off my chest." He said as you stayed back

"What is it?" You asked as Ranboo took a deep breath and let it out.

"I... I really like you. A lot actually! It's okay if you don't feel the same way." He said scratching his neck nervously while he was a flustered mess.

You on the other hand were shocked and blushing the same as him cause your crush who was your first friend had legit confessed to you and felt the same feelings as you. You smiled as you replied to him.

"It's okay Ranboo. I feel the same way." You said as Ranboo looked at the VC in shock as a smile formed on his face.

"I'm- I'm glad! Will you also be my girlfriend?" He asked as you nodded.

"Yeah I will." You said as Ranboo was now grinning ear to ear from your response.

"I am so happy to hear you say that." He said feeling like he was over the moon.

Who knew late night streams like these could lead to two best friends into confessing their feelings for each other.

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I hope I did justice to your request!

I am sorry if it's not of your expectations but I tried!

^^;;

[the-iceni-bitch]

Please do 61 with Ransom.

61) “If you don’t change out of those shorts and into some pants I’ll have them around your ankles by lunch time.”

Hmmm, more OTP for all you lovely hoes! You nonnies just keep lobbing em right at me.

This ended up sparking something in me and I ended up writing a full length fic about more escapades with the asshole bunch.

Tagging my babes @chrissquares @stargazingfangirl18 (I’m targeting you a little with this one Siri cuz lacrosse Ransom is def wearing Fila) @subtlebucky @egcdeath

Quick, dirty, outdoor smut!!! No minors!!!

You and Ransom had decided to meet at the park with the other couples in his little asshole group of friends.

It was finally starting to warm up some, and when the boys had brought up getting out the sticks for some lacrosse you had jumped on it. Ransom didn’t have the balls to tell you it was really just a guy thing, you looked so excited about it.

He parked the beemer at the park entrance and grinned when he saw your Volvo already there. He grabbed his sticks and the cooler full of beer from the trunk and headed towards the field where he saw the rest of you gathered.

He groaned as he drew closer and finally got a good look at you as you waved at him. You looked like a preppy dream in a polo shirt and tiny shorts, a headband around your forehead and knee high socks under your cleats.

“Hey baby!” You said giddily as you ran towards him with your stick slung over your shoulders. “Can you believe I still fit in my high school uniform?”

“I think you’re taking this a little too seriously sweetheart.” He grinned, dropping the cooler and catching you when you jumped into his arms and pressed your lips to his with a satisfied hum.

“Says the man who showed up wearing his letterman’s jacket.” You teased as you hopped down and helped him carry the cooler the rest of the way.

“Yeah? Well if you don’t change out of those shorts and into some pants I’ll have them around your ankles by lunch time.” He purred in your ear as you set down the cooler, wrapping his stick around your back and drawing you close.

“Ha! I’m not playing lacrosse in pants, Hugh!” You said with a shake of your head. “But keep that in mind for later. Can you believe none of the other girls brought sticks?”

“Honey, none of them play lacrosse.” He chided as he watched you stretch.

“Well then what’s the point of... oh goddamn it!” You rolled your eyes as you stood up. “This was supposed to be another boy’s outing where I sit with the other girls and get wine drunk wasn’t it? Don’t answer that! Chauvinist assholes...”

He just chuckled as he watched you mutter to yourself angrily, grabbing your extra sticks and storming off towards the other girls, gesturing wildly as you tried to go over the basics with them.

“So, the girls are playing then?” Dylan asked as he came to stand by Ransom, grabbing an IPA from the cooler and taking a gulp.

“Sure seems that way.” Ran answered as he watched you shove a stick at Lexi and make a throwing motion that she tried to emulate feebly.

“Is this gonna be another day of your girlfriend showing us all up, Drysdale?” Chaz asked as he joined the two of them, chuckling as they tried to figure out exactly what you were trying to instruct the girls on now. “Cuz I don’t think my ego can take it.”

“I dunno what to tell you man.” Ran said with a shrug, grabbing himself a beer and drinking deep. “Quit inviting us to this shit if you don’t want her to hand your ass back to you.”

“Alright douchebags, lets play some lacrosse!” You screamed at them, a massive grin splitting your face.

“I can’t decide if having her on my team or playing against her will be worse.” Logan groaned as the four men walked towards the field apprehensively.

“Alright, should we split this up by couples or what?” Dylan asked as Lexi moved to stand next to him.

“Sounds good to me.” You beamed.

“Great, so Y/N, Ran , Chaz and Brit, you guys can play together and me, Jess, Logan, and Lex will be the other team. Girls play defense.”

“Sounds good.” Ran said fast before you had a chance to start an argument, guiding you away from the center of the field quickly.

“But I play attack, babe.” You whined as he walked next to you and stopped in front of the goal.

“Yeah, I think that you playing attack might be a little too much all at once sweetie.” He said with a shrug as he moved to middle position. “Just channel that frustration babe, you’ll do great!”

You just chewed on your lip as you watched Logan and Chaz grapple for the ball. Logan won out, barreling over Chaz and spinning past Ran like a pro. You smirked as you pivoted towards him, bracing yourself as you charged each other.

He shifted his weight to spin around you and you grinned before full body checking him, ripping the stick out of his hand and helicoptering it out of his grip as you tossed him over your shoulder. You scooped the ball up and lobbed it to Ransom as you sprinted up the field. He passed it back to you when Dylan tried to take him down and you snatched it out of the air before diving around a confused looking Lexi and chucking the ball at the net, grinning when it sailed past Jess for a point.

“Goddamn it!” Dylan groaned as you jogged past him back to your position, giving Ransom a celebratory high five that he followed up with a smack on the ass as he grinned at you.

Logan was still trying to stand up as you returned to your defensive position, glaring at you as he ran a hand through his hair.

“How the fuck was that not a foul?!” He seethed at you.

“A foul?!” You shouted with an air of disdain. “Don’t be a pussy Van Doren! You bring that weak shit to my house and I’m serving it right back to you! Right babe?”

“That’s right babe!” Ran shouted back to you as he shrugged apologetically at Logan when he stalked past him.

The rest of the game went about the same, you hardly let anyone past and Logan flinched so bad every time you got near him it was easy for your team to dominate. Dylan finally called a stop after an hour, he and Logan covered in dirt and bruises from the rough play.

“That’s it, we’re done. I need a fucking drink.” He huffed as he dragged himself off the field, Lexi bouncing next to him excitedly. Apparently, one of the things you had been teaching the girls was how to hit, and she had cracked Chaz and Ransom a couple of times. You grinned and congratulated her and the other girls on a game well played as you moved to grab a porter from the cooler.

“Jesus Christ, Drysdale. That woman is a damn menace.” Logan groaned as he grabbed a bag of ice and pressed it against his ribs.

“Yeah, how the fuck do you keep up with her?” Chaz asked, shaking his head as sipped his lager. “She’s barely sweating.”

“I don’t even know man.” He said with a shrug, gasping for air as he chugged his IPA. “She’s a fucking pistol.”

“Not the word I’d use but whatever.” Logan said, annoyed at you two.

“Shut up, L, you’re just pissed she beat the shit out of you.” Dylan said with a grin. “Where you going, Ran?”

“Gotta take a leak!” Ransom lied as he jerked his head towards the trees suggestively after making eye contact with you.

“Scuse me gals, I gotta help Hugh with something.” You said around a grin after chugging the rest of your beer.

“Jesus, you two will do it anywhere, huh?” Brittney said with an eye roll.

You just shrugged at her as you jogged after Ransom towards the small clutch of pines.

Ransom grabbed you around your waist and swung you off your feet when you reached him, making you squeal before he smashed his lips against yours.

“You were amazing.” He purred as he pressed you up against a tree, running his lips up and down your throat and making you whine.

“Yeah, I’m a fucking legend babe. I told you.” You muttered around a grin. “Did you see those hits I landed?”

“Mmhm, sure did.” He mumbled, nipping at the hollow behind your ear that he knew drove you crazy as his hips ground against you.

“You ever eat a legend’s pussy, Hugh?” You teased, starting to shove his head down between your legs.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Y/N!” He whined as you forced him to his knees. “I was kinda hoping we could both get something out of this.”

“Sorry babe, middle gets whatever attack says they get.” You said with a shrug as you slid your shorts off and hooked your leg over his shoulder. “Make me come with that pretty mouth and maybe I’ll let you get your dick wet.”

“Bitch.” He murmured as he started brushing his lips over your inner thigh, no real malice in his tone as he gazed at you through his lashes.

“That’s right Hugh, I’m the fucking bitch. Now lick it.”

He ran his nose over your clothed core and inhaled deeply before shoving your panties aside. You moaned as he dragged his tongue over your slit, lapping up the evidence of your arousal before swirling his tongue through your folds.

His hands moved under your ass and tilted your hips towards his face, giving him even more access to your dripping heat. Your fingers gripped his hair painfully when he flicked his tongue over your asshole in a quick series of kitten licks before moving it in a heavy stripe back up to your clit.

You had to bite your lip to keep from screaming when he slid a finger inside you, curling it in a come hither motion at the same time he pressed his tongue against your clit. He lashed your bundle of nerves lightly as you writhed against him, your head thumping back against the tree as he slipped in a second finger.

His lips wrapped around your clit as he started fucking you with his digits, curling and twisting them inside you so he hit every spot he knew would drive you absolutely crazy. You felt him grin against you as he shook his head to bury himself deeper in your folds, groaning when he felt you clench around his fingers.

“Fuck, Ransom! I’m so close.” You panted breathlessly, grinding your pussy into his face as you neared the edge.

You felt him slide his pinky into your puckered hole, spearing past the tight ring of muscle until you felt the cool metal of his ring against your entrance and you fucking lost it.

Your thighs tried to crush his skull as you came violently, somehow managing to swallow the shriek that tried to rip out of your chest. He moaned as he ran his tongue over your pussy to collect your release as it ran over his fingers while you clenched and fluttered around him.

“How was that, champ?” He said around a wicked grin once you finally released his head, sliding his hands up your body as he stood up.

“Good... it was good.” You panted as he buried his face in your neck.

“Yeah? Good enough for you to help me out, babe?” He asked, grinding his hips into you to show you how hard he was at the same time he wrenched your polo and sports bra up to expose your breasts.

“I think we can work something out.” You murmured as he palmed your breast with one hand while the other splayed over your ass.

“What did you have in mind, sweetheart?” He hummed as his lips moved over your throat softly.

“Oh, I dunno. Something extra special for my favorite middle.” You purred, pushing him away from you a little bit so you could turn around.

“Fuck, really?” He beamed, running his hand over your ass as he pressed you into the tree.

“Really, you did such a good job, baby, you deserve a reward.” You said as you peeked are him over your shoulder. “Now fuck my ass until I come again, Hugh.”

He chuckled darkly into your hair as he slid his shorts down his legs and drew his cock out of his boxer briefs. You moaned as he ran his length through your slick before he pressed his tip against your pretty hole. The groan he let out as he speared into you made your pussy clench around nothing, fluttering as your body tried to draw him as deep as possible until he was fully sheathed in you and his hips were resting against your ass.

“Shit. Oh my god.” He hissed into your shoulder as he stilled his hips for a beat. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

“Yeah, I know.” You mumbled as the tree bark scratched at your cheek. “Could you move? I’d like to have another orgasm sometime before noon.”

“So fucking bossy.” He groaned before sliding out of you halfway and slamming back into you, making you yelp.

You moaned as he finally started fucking you, his hips moving at a vicious pace as he bounced you against the tree. He wrapped a hand around your throat and squeezed lightly as he drew you back against his chest.

“Love when you let me fuck your ass, baby.” He growled in your ear as his hips slapped against your cheeks, making you mewl as slick started leaking down your thighs from your aching pussy. “Love how wet you get and how you strangle my cock. You want my fingers in that tight little pussy?”

“Yeah.” You whined as he teased his fingers over your clit. “Need you in my pussy so bad Ran, I’m gonna come.”

He sucked your earlobe between his teeth and spanked your pussy before shoving three fingers inside you as you came with a shriek, your body arching against him as you spasmed uncontrollably.

“Jesus, you’re squeezing me so good.” He groaned as you came down, sobbing with pleasure and sagging against him. “I’m gonna fill this ass up.”

You felt his cock throbbing inside you at the same time he twisted his fingers and you screamed, your release gushing out of you and soaking his thighs as he filled you with his spend, pressing you against the tree and sinking his teeth into your shoulder as his hips jerked. He groaned into your hair as he shoved his cum deep inside you and pulled his fingers from your swollen cunt.

“Holy fuck.” He mumbled into your hair before sucking his fingers into his mouth and groaning at your taste.

“Yeah.” You murmured as you yanked your bra and shirt back down and pulled your panties back into place before bending over to slide your shorts back on. “You should’ve lettered in that.”

——————————————————————————

A/N: Not just regular assholes, preppy jock assholes!!!

[gallavictorious]

I saw your tags and I think you might need to write that fic of Ian and Mickey recreating their first time when Ian gets a tire iron. 🧐☺️

Okay, so this took me a hot minute, and I did it as a kind of speedwrite so it's rather short and not exactly thought out. I also went off (my own) script a little bit and it got unexpectedly sappy there for a moment... But! Have 1,4k very silly words of Ian and Mickey roleplaying their first proper get together because Mickey gave Ian a tire iron. I hope you enjoy it, dear one – thank you so much for the prompt! I had unexpected fun with it. ❤️

(Oh, and tags in questions are the ones on this post, so all credit to @jenatte for providing the original inspiration.)’

ETA: It’s on AO3 now too.

---

Ow. The fuck?

Reluctantly, Mickey blinked awake. The bright light suggested it was already near noon, but that wasn't what had woken it, that wasn't–

It came again: a hard poke to his back. Not the good kind, either, of Ian pressing his hard-on against Mickey's rear while they were snuggled close, but something cold and sharp. Insistent.

”What the fuck?” Mickey groaned, rolling over on his side and peering up at–

–his husband standing over him with... a fucking tire iron in his hands? Not just any tire iron either, but the one Mickey had gotten him as a gift for their anniversary as a mix of a joke, sentimentality and practicality; it was how they started, sure, and meaningful for it, but also a damn good thing to have, no home was complete without it. He thought that maybe Ian had overlooked the practial aspects, though, in favour of going a little misty-eyed before he started dropping half-assed quips about hard lenghts and Mickey had to roll his eyes and punch his husband in the arm a little bit.

Now Mickey's brow furrowed further as he tried to make sense of the scene. For a brief, terrifying moment, apprehension siezed his gut: was Ian having a manic episode, seeing enemies where there was none? But no; though he feigned a fearsome scowl, there was that glitter in Ian's eyes and a small quirk to his lips that spoke little of mania and everything of being a fucking dork and a tease.

”Give me the gun, Mickey,” he intoned, and Mickey was about to ask again what the hell and what fucking gun and maybe are you feeling okay man because perhaps Mickey didn't have quite as good a read on his husband as he thought he had–

–and then he got it, memory reasserting itself, and he could feel the fucking grin growing on his face quite of its own accord. He'd have felt stupid for not immediately catching on, but give him a fucking break, he'd been sleeping two seconds ago and his days of waking up with a start and ready to fight were slowly and thankfully becoming a thing of the past.

Ian's faux frown broke, as he was unable to contain an answering smile. He seemed inordinately pleased with himself, and with Mickey for getting it. Mickey would tell him he was a fucking idiot, but Ian looked so expectant that Mickey decided to play along instead. No harm in a little weird roleplay to make his husband happy, right?

Besides, it wasn't like Ian standing over him and looking vaguely threatening and very hot didn't do it for Mickey on several levels.

”Okay, fine,” he said, climbing to his feet while doing his very best to appear drowsy and uninterested. It had been instinctive back then, the plan of lulling the irate kid into a false sense of security before pouncing on him and kicking his teeth in for having the fucking gall to march into Mickey's room and demand things.

Mickey made a show of slowly turning towards the nightstand, just as he had all those years ago. He could feel Ian's eyes track his every movement, ready to react to the sneak attack he knew was coming. There'd be no taking him by surprise this time.

His face turned away and unseen, Mickey smiled. Or would it?

He grabbed hold of the bottle of lube on the table and spun around to throw it at Ian's head, took a quick step up and to the side, and as Ian gave a short yelp and involuntary raised his hands to protect his face, Mickey rushed him from the side to push him down on the bed. Ian went with a thud and an oof and Mickey didn't hesitate; he was on his husband in a second, straddling his chest and wrestling the tire iron from him grip.

”What the hell, Mick?” Ian demanded, not bothering to struggle but glaring up at Mickey with wide reproachful eyes. ”This isn't how it went!”

Mickey grinned. ”How it went is I kicked your scrawny ass,” he said smugly. ”Now, how am I gonna do that if you know which way I'm gonna move?”

”I was going to let you win!” Ian protested.

Mickey's eyebrows rose. ”Oh, you were gonna let me, huh?”

”Yeah,” Ian said slowly, eyes narrowing, ”I was going to let you.” And with that he grabbed hold of Mickey's arms and pushed him to the side while using his greater body weight as leverage to flip them around.

”Fucker,” Mickey spat, kicking at Ian's shins. He dropped the tire iron – not like he was actually going to hit Ian with it – to have both his hands free for a renewed assault on his sneaky little shit of a husband, but Ian had already wrapped his his stupidly big hands around Mickey's wrists and was pushing him down into the mattress, grinning triumphantly while Mickey struggled and squirmed beneath him.

”Guess I had a change of heart,” Ian said.

Mickey stilled, biting at his bottom lip as he considered. He was pretty sure he could still take Ian if he really wanted to, mostly on account of him being a ruthless motherfucker with no interest whatsoever in fighting fair. However, that required a level of playing dirty and pulling nasty jabs that went far beyond what he felt comfortable doing to his husband these days.

”Uh-huh, and what's the plan now, genius?” he demanded, opting for snark instead of violence.

Ian didn't answer. The look in his eyes had shifted from triumphant to something thoughtful, and softer.

”Do you think it'd have gone the same way if it'd been me on top of you instead of the other way around back then?” he wondered aloud.

Mickey made a face. It fucking figured that his sap of a husband would turn a promising round of foreplay into a game of sentimental what-if.

”I dunno,” he said, wriggling his hips a little to remind Ian that there were otherstuff they could be doing right now, stuff way more exciting than having a goddamn conversation. ”Does it fucking matter? It didn'thappen like that, and it never would have happened like that either, 'cause back then I didn't give a shit about fucking you up too bad, so I'd bashed your fucking brains out before letting get on top of me.”

He wanted to bite his tongue as soon as he'd said it, but it was too late: Ian's eyes had lit up and his thoughtful look transformed into a smirk. ”Well, I mean,” he drawled, leaning down to put his mouth to Mickey's neck, just for a moment, just a little bit of teeth in the brief touch.

”Fuck off,” Mickey said, but he was laughing. Ian's weight pinning him down was as exciting as it was annoying, as it was grounding.

Ian just hummed. He'd straightened again and was gazing down on Mickey with a look that was so damned fond it made a small blush work its way up Mickey's neck.

”I think we'd have ended up here anyway,” Ian decided. ”Somehow.”

”Oh yeah?”

”Yeah.”

Soft smiles then, as something warm and happy bloomed in Mickey's chest. For a moment, they just looked at each other, eyes resting on the face each of them knew best, loved best.

Ian let go of Mickey's wrist to put his hand on the side of his head, fingers tangling in Mickey's hair as Ian ran a thumb over his husband's cheek. He bent down again, but this time to capture Mickey's lips in a long, lingering kiss.

”I think I was always going to have you,” Ian murmured as they broke apart, forehead pressed against forehead.

A second later he yelped in surprised outrage as Mickey took advantage of his lapse in vigilance to grab hold of his hair and yank his head sharply to the side while pushing up to get Ian off him and halfway down onto the floor. Mickey followed him with a snicker, and off they went again, tousling and laughing and absolutely heedless of any noise they might make.

[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

hiya, this is my first time requesting smth and i dunno rlly how to go about it but i was wondering if you could do a fic where the s/o leads to bois to Hudson's bluff where theres a projector and a roll up whiteboard thingy set up, blocking the view and they make them sit down and starts to play a film that s/o recorded earlier of the sunrise since the bois cant go out in the sun. sorry if that was too long, i really like your writing and i think youre awesome :))

Thank you so much for the kind words and for the super cute idea!!! I hope you like it!!

One Last Look (Poly!Lost Boys x S/O)

Warnings: angst about being a vampire, angst about their human lives, yearning for a forgotten life, tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 1414

The boys had no idea as to what you'd set up, you'd made sure of that. It was somewhat difficult even convincing them to go somewhere without David's choosing, but you'd promised them a surprise. That was enough to, at least, pique Paul's interest, and the others knew that he wouldn't shut up until the surprise was revealed.

So, you'd taken them up the stairs and all the way up to the cliffs edge. Quickly, confusion dotted some of their faces when they saw the projector screen and the rest of your set up. You'd even gone through the trouble of bringing some beanbags and chairs up for the boys to use, and the blonde twins didn't hesitate to launch themselves into the bean bags you'd put side by side. David sat in one of the more rigid beach chairs, and Dwayne, given a choice between a bean bag and a beach chair, chose a bean bag. You smiled, dodging Dwaynes attempts to pull you into his lap as David asked,

"Now what?" And you tried not to roll your eyes at his tone. Really, he couldn't stand not being in charge for ten minutes? Well, you were sure that you were about to change his attitude. You pressed play, starting the projector, and then hurried to your seat. It was in the middle, between David and Marko, and you watched as your earlier film began.

***

The boys didn't like being kept in the dark, but they waited patiently as the show began. Paul had muttered something about it being a dirty movie, but Marko had immediately given him a glance. A dirty movie showing right on top of Hudson's Bluff? Yeah, no way.

Paul had scoffed, crossing his arms as he thought pointedly. Well, you never know. To the boy besides him. But, when the movie began to roll, they watched in confusion as the horizon right in front of them began to play. And then, the first bit of light peaked over.

The boys flinched out on instinct, with some of them even moving to push themselves out of their seats. But you reached for Markos hand, giving it an assuring squeeze.

"Hey, hey. You're okay." You said, and the boys looked between the screen and the world around them. The sunlight was false, it couldn't hurt them any more than the candles they used to light the cave could. Their eyes turned to the screen once more, fascination on them as the sun breached the skyline.

It'd been eighty years since they'd last seen a sunrise. Even then, some of them couldn't remember it.

Marko had always been an early riser. He'd seen his fair share, but after eighty years of fog? It was like looking at a faded photograph. The colors weren't right or the lines were hazy. Maybe certain parts of his memory were distorted. Or maybe all the memories of sunrises he held had blended together. But there was one thing he always remembered. The orange, yellow glow of the sun. He'd remembered that perfectly, and he stared silently as it climbed up the screen. He gripped the bag under him, kneading it as it climbed. He remembered waking up just to watch it, even sketching it in his young life. His fingers itched for his pencils then, and he bit his thumb to try to suppress the urge. He remembered how expensive pencils and paints used to be. How he'd save a week's wage, as he used to call it, just to buy some. How, even though they never said anything, the others used to stare at his brushes like they wished they were a loaf of bread instead. But he also remembered how his drawings used to brighten up their space, how they'd done the same thing to the cave below. He thumbed at his jacket, thinks about how, even after all these years, even after he'd forgotten why, he was still trying to bring color into their lives.

Paul had seen his fair share of sunrises when they'd been human, but that was usually while he was scrambling out of someone's bed, or scrambling out of his own to try to make it to whatever sorry excuse for a job he called work. He never paid much attention to the sky of the morning, but, in that second, he remembered how much he missed the feeling of the sun on his face. A sun that didn't burn his skin the second it touched it, but a sun that warmed him. He remembered mid-day, a breeze of memories he didn't even know he still retained. He remembered eating lunch inbetween shifts. He remembered being full, remembered the way his muscles used to burn and how good it felt to sit down and relax. Paul relaxed all the time, but he couldn't remember the last time, in his vampire life, it felt like relief. His muscles didn't ache, his brow didn't sweat, and he didn't feel the prickle in his feet after being on them for too long. He never even realized those things had been missing, and a small part of him missed the feeling.

During his human life, Dwayne had always paid more attention to sunsets, to the sight of the sun retreating behind the sky. To the oranges, reds, and deep purples that followed. He was used to the navy blue of the night sky. He'd been under it every night for years. But, seeing his first sunrise in nearly eighty years, he would've traded all of his sunsets for it. He wished he'd appreciated it more. He missed lying under the sun, even if it was just to tan. He missed having to tie his hair back to keep himself from overheating. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt hot, let alone even warm. Memories of him under the sun in the California desert floated in his mind. He thought he'd known what thirst was then. He laughed a little bit to himself, and he glanced over at you when you looked over to find the source of his laughter. He didn't explain, simply letting his eyes flick back to the screen. He stared, watching in silence as the sun rose on the screen.

David didn't know what to say. He didn't know if he should say anything. David had never been one for sunrises. He always got up the latest. He was practically nocturnal even when he'd been human, working through the night and spending the rest of the time worrying about the others. The switch to being a vampire hadn't been much of a change in his life, but it was only then that he realized what he'd been missing. Instead of having his thoughts float back to his old life, he glanced over at you. He wished he'd been able to be there with you, watch as it pulled over the horizon. That you didn't need to take a video, and instead you could've nudged him awake. He realized then that there were parts of your life that he'd always miss. Unless you became one of them. But, as he stared at the screen, David had his first inkling of doubt. He'd been so sure of it before. It'd been an obvious choice. As sure as the sun rising above the horizon each day. But now? His fingers itched for a cigarette. Anything to stifle and take his mind away from the thoughts swirling around his head.

***

You looked over at them. The boys had been silent ever since you started the movie, until it ended. When it did, you waited for them to speak. It took a moment, but David finally said,

"That was- You shot that?" He asked, and you nodded. He was quiet for another moment, and it unnerved you. For a moment, you thought that you'd done something wrong. That perhaps you shouldn't have. But Dwayne was quick to say,

"Thank you, y/n. Really." And the others were quick to chorus a mantra of the same.

It took a moment for you and the boys to clean up, but, just before you packed up the set-up, David had walked up to the screen. He reached out for the screen, and the others paused where they stood. It occurred to you then that they were getting one last look, before the five of you packed everything up and went to take it down to the cave.

[roanniom]

This made my day seeing your requests open!!

I’d like to please request some hot dominat Clyde action. We all know he’s a softy, but we all also know he’s capable of being a big and scary if he needs to. Thoughts on Clyde protecting you from something and then still being riled up with you after, in all the best ways? :)

Hiya anon! I was happy to write this for you. Fun story, what Clyde does (re: the beer bottle) in this story is actually something a bar tender did when defending me from a creep back in my college bar hopping days lol. I WISH it was Clyde who had done it. I would have loved to thank him. 😉

Out of Trouble

Clyde Logan x Reader

Word Count: 2,730

Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex, possessiveness, dirty talk 

You reassess the situation you find yourself in – by no means an unfamiliar one, but definitely out of the norm these days and wholly unpleasant all the same. The man currently harassing you at the bar is clearly not a local. First of all, you don’t recognize the handsy son-of-a-bitch. And secondly, everyone in town knew that you were Clyde’s girl.

You two had only recently made things official, but in a way, hadn’t you always been Clyde’s girl? Your best friendship had always been tinged with a sweetness that surpassed the roles of mere pals. Sure there was flirting, how could you resist with the way a properly timed tease or suggestive comment could make Clyde blush and stammer as if on command? But even more prevalent, and more obvious to the patiently waiting members of the town, was the ownership you both had of one another. People knew better than to hassle either of you, verbally, hypothetically, or otherwise, in the presence of the other. You had Clyde’s back and he had yours, each of you displaying a possessiveness that made others smirk and roll their eyes while hiding their jealousy. You had what they did not, and now that the two of you were finally dating, envy was a common emotion amongst regular Duck Tape patrons.

Something this creep clearly was not privy to it would seem as he reached out to caress your forearm, an action which you flinch to avoid.

“Come on, baby. Let me buy you a fucking drink,” he was saying at this point. He was getting more forceful and though you had previously been courteous in your refusals, you realize that it might be time to fight back. He swayed on his barstool before continuing. “Stop being such a bitch. What could one drink hurt?”

“Every bone in yer fuckin’ body,” comes a low, deep growl that makes both you and the creep look up to the swinging door behind the bar. Your heart swells with relief and other, undefinable emotions as Clyde stalks up, his massive body an intimidating figure as it looms over the other, weasel-y man, threatening even with the bar between them.

“W-what’s your problem?” the creep practically squeaks before clearing his throat and jumping up, trying to draw himself up to his full height, which just comes across as laughable. Of course, next to Clyde, any height would be laughable.

“My problem is yer comin’ onto m’girl. That’s my problem.” His tone is deadly quiet. That’s your Clyde, soft spoken, even as his flesh hand clenches and murder simmers behind his eyes.

“Look, she was sitting here all alone. In my book that makes a bitch fair game - ” the creep begins, but he doesn’t get much farther with his misogynistic diatribe because Clyde reaches over, grabbing a nearby customer’s almost empty beer. Grasping the bottle around the neck, Clyde smashes the bottle down against the edge of the bar. The barrel shatters with a loud crash that silences the din of the room and causes the neck of every patron to whip around for the source of the sound. Clyde stands before the creep brandishing the remaining shards of the beer bottle like a shiv.

“Here’s what yer gonna do,” Clyde says calmly, the violence of his actions not succeeding in raising the volume of his voice. “Yer gonna apologize t’ the lil lady fer troublin’ her, understand?”

The creep stares at Clyde, wide-eyed and panicked before nodding and turning to you hastily.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking, sorry –”

“Good,” Clyde says, cutting the guy off so that he can no longer address you. You eye Clyde as he waves the shattered bottle menacingly. He’s never looked bigger. Never looked darker. Never looked hotter. When he speaks again his voice is even lower, if that’s possible. “Now yer gonna get the fuck outta my bar.”

The creep is gone in a matter of seconds, running out the front door so fast you almost imagine his skeleton being left on the bar stool in his wake like some frightened cartoon character. Before you can look back up at Clyde, his large hand is encircling your wrist and yanking you toward to door to the back of the bar. You let yourself be pulled, barely registering how the conversation kicks back in, customers already basking in the aftermath of Clyde’s rare emotional outburst.

Once the door to Clyde’s office is safely shut behind you, Clyde pushed you to sit down on his couch while he paces back and forth in front of you. You’re bewildered by this response, unsure if you should say something so you remain silent, watching him. After a moment Clyde yanks a hand through his hair forcefully. You swallow and decide to finally speak up.

“Are you okay, Clyde?”

“I’m NOT fuckin’ okay,” Clyde replies and you’re shocked at the way his voice raises with his words. You’re suddenly worried he’s gotten the wrong idea and you’re quick to fold your arms defensively across your chest, your own voice rising.

“Hey, if you’re mad at me you should know it’s not like I encouraged that asshole.”

Clyde is quick to round on you, looking panicked.

“I didn’t say ya did. I know ya wouldn’t…ya’d never…” Clyde trails off into a growl and resumes his pacing, flesh hand clenching and unclenching.

“It’s over, Clyde,” you soothe now, switching tactics and lowering your own defenses. He’s clearly distressed and you’re not sure how to calm him. “He’s not the first and probably won’t be the last guy to bother me.”

“That’s what’s killin’ me, darlin’. What if I hadn’t walked out? What if ya were alone an’ this happened?”

“I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I know ya can,” Clyde says, voice more characteristically quiet now but frustration no less palpable as he waves his prosthetic arm distractedly. “I dunno what’s gotten intuh me. I saw him touch ya an’…an’…” Clyde reaches out and swipes across a table, throwing everything to the ground. His chest heaves with his outburst. Yours is rising and falling rapidly now, too, but for you its stemming from the realization that this man. This sweet, beautiful man is losing his cool over his desire to protect you. To defend you. You’re a modern woman. As you’d just told him, you can take care of yourself and you are very proud of that fact. But something about the dark look in his eye and the way his muscles shift tensely beneath his shirt and the way he stomps before you makes you feel like you want to disappear in his arms and never resurface.

“You’re a good man, Clyde,” you say softly. He shakes his head and gives a humorless laugh.

“Not tonight, I’m not, darlin’. Not with these thoughts. I haven’t felt this way since…”

“Overseas?” you ask. He nods, trying to take a deep breath but releasing an even angrier exhale.

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I can’t seem to calm down. I’m just so fuckin’ mad.”

You watch your big bear, usually so gentle, wrestle with his emotions before you. Immediately you have an idea, standing up and moving to him. Using one hand to peel open his fist and interlace your fingers. He grips you too tight but you just bite your lip. Your other hand slides over his bicep and shoulder, kneading into the tense muscles there as you press your face into his chest. His prosthetic arm winds around your waist, pulling you into his body naturally. This does nothing to slow his breathing, which picks up more speed. Feeling you against his body is reminding him of how small you are. How vulnerable. He feels another surge of rage and desperation course through his veins.

“I don’t know why I’m feelin’ this way,” he mumbles but you reach up and grab his face to force him to look at you.

“Feel whatever way you feel,” you reassure him. You lift up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss, but the force with which he responds steals your breath. His arms wind around your body and crush you to him as his tongue ruthlessly explores your mouth, as if searching for solace can only be done in the space where you are most conjoined. The aggression is dizzying and his fingers are bruising on your frame but you love it. Used to light touches, soft caresses, you feel a hunger burn beneath your skin, as if your every muscle is rejoicing at the deeper pressure, the deeper friction.

When Clyde finally pulls away you are winded and dazed, now breathing just as heavily. His eyes look no less wild but now there is a tinge of concern.

“M’sorry, darlin’. We should stop, ‘m too worked up. Can’t be sweet to ya the way ya like.” His words are husky and rushed but you’re just as rushed to shush him. You’re already working at his belt and pulling him back to the couch.

“I like you in whatever way you’ll have me, baby,” you mumbled against his flesh, kissing down his throat as you pull him down to the cushions. “Take it out on me.”

“What if I’m too rough with ya?” Clyde asks, but his hands are already ripping your shirt over your head and his mouth latches onto your throat, your collar bone, your breast through your bra.

“I want you to be rough with me, Clyde. I’ve wanted you to be rough with me since the moment you walked out and gave that asshole what-for.” You’re pressed down, back against the couch now, with your legs tight around the wide barrel of Clyde’s body.

“Did ya like that, darlin’? Yer Big Bear defending ya?” He’s no longer hesitant in his movements and no longer trying to stop himself. Instead he takes a handful of your ass, pulling your pelvis up off the couch so that your clothed pussy presses fully into his erect and waiting cock. You moan, both at the sensation and at him calling himself Big Bear for the first time. You’d only been dating for a few weeks and things were still new, including shyness around pet names. You’d called him Big Bear the night before in the teasing lead up to some love making and he’d only flushed and stammered in response, busying himself by burying his face between your thighs.

But right now he’s gazing down at your face with an air of intensity and you feel saliva pool in your mouth and wet slick your quivering heat.

“I liked my Big Bear defending me. So strong and big.” You say the last word as you close your hand around his enormous cock through his unzipped jeans. Clyde bucks into your hand and hums from where he’s suckling at the underside of one of your breasts, curved down into you despite your differences in height.

“Nobody else can have ya,” he grumbles before hoisting you higher on the couch so he can position his cock at your entrance. You gasp at the feeling of his member sliding between your folds, getting covered in your waiting slick.

“Nobody. Only you, Big Bear.” Before you can say anything else Clyde has speared into you in one swift motion and taken up an unforgiving pace. There was the aggression he’d been worried about and boy was it rough. You cling to him for dear life as he fucks you into the couch cushions. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your jaw goes slack.

It hurts – he’s much too big to be going this hard this fast – but his grip on you is so tight it melts your aching muscles. The desperation of his thrusts make you hiccup through your inhales and you feel surrounded. Crushed. Filled. All in the best way possible. You love the darling Clyde who coaxes your orgasms with caresses and honeyed words and languid strokes. But this Clyde – this is your Big Bear. His eyes drink in your bouncing breasts as he’s not able to clutch them with the way he has to support his own weight with his good arm. Your back arches deeper from the effects of a particularly deep thrust, bringing your chest up to press against his and he groans.

“This body. No wonder people’re comin’ on to ya, darlin’. This body’s too perfect,” he practically growls, burying his face into your throat. “Maybe I should just keep ya here on my cock. Stay inside ya. Keep me warm and keep ya outta trouble.”

You moan loudly as his dirty words are accentuated by a change in angle that lets him pound into a particularly sweet spot. Your walls pulse around him.

“Oh god. Oh Clyde.”

“Back to callin’ me Clyde already? Am I not bein’ rough enough for ya?” Clyde asks, biting down into the sensitive flesh of your throat. You cry out, hips gyrating against him, legs and walls clamping down around him with an unconscious need to keep him buried deep inside you.

“F-fuck, oh fuck me, Big Bear. I can take it!” you practically whine.

“Yes ya can. So good, takin’ yer Big Bear.” His trusts begin to bottom out harsher, faster. The pressure and the speed have pulled your muscles as taut as they can go and you know you’re seconds from snapping. It was all so sudden. You’re both so worked up, not only from the experience out in the bar, but from the headiness of being this way with one another for the first time. He may be the one pounding into you, but you’re giving as good as you’re getting, rolling your hips up to meet each thrust. Pulling him down into you and raking your fingernails up and down his back.

It’s desperate and needy and possessive – equally so. He is yours and you are his and ownership never tasted so sweet.

Just as you’re about the cum, Clyde seems to sense it and shoves your legs up by the back of the knee, ensuring his next few thrusts rub up against the spot inside you that makes your eyes cross and makes your moans turn into desperate whimpers. You have the vague thought that this proves how well Clyde has come to know your body, what a great student he is of your orgasm, just as said orgasm crashes over you.

You know for sure that the Duck Tape customers heard you. Your belief in your audience becomes even stronger when Clyde lets out a delicious moan as he cums, too, painting your insides with spend made just for you. You’re sweaty and it’s only 7 pm on a Tuesday. Clyde’s going to have to go back to tending bar and you’re going to have to slink out, so clearly ravaged and thoroughly fucked to the likely amusement of a roomful of people who’d been rooting for your coupling. You chuckle to yourself, as Clyde drops the weight of his whole body on you, crushing you. Those people outside definitely got a chance just now to hear your coupling firsthand.

“That…was amazing.” It comes out breathless, as though you’ve just run a marathon. And because you have the mass of a large man pressing you into the couch. When Clyde finally lifts his head from its resting place at your neck he looks sheepish and embarrassed and pleased and winded.

“’M sorry if I was too much for ya, darlin’. Once ya started touchin’ me I couldn’t think straight.”

You silence him with a kiss, grabbing his face to make it deep. When you pull away your smile is ear to ear.

“If you make me feel like that, baby, there’s absolutely nothing to apologize for.”

Clyde moves to pull out of you, his cum now seeping out around his softening cock, but you tighten your legs around him suddenly.

“What happened to staying inside me, mister?” you tease.

Clyde stands abruptly, pulling you up with him still seated in your dripping cunt. Your gasp and scramble to hold onto him. He takes a few playful steps towards the door and you swat at him.

“No, I think yer right, darlin’. What better way tuh make cocktails than with my lil cockwarmer?”

~*~

Tagging some lovely friends (please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged in the future!): @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @edencherries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @paper-n-ashes @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @morby @emeraldsiren20 @maryforyou @aloneandsleepless @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @leather-flannel-liquor @soggywhore

[albino-whumpee]

Introduction

Superhero whump for practice and to set me into a writing mood again. Or a creating mood again. Idk anymore. Hope you like it! Also to fill my @badthingshappenbingo card, with prompt “pinned by wreckage”

This is a series 

Masterlist

CW// blood, villain whumpee, superhero caretaker, gruff caretaker, enemies to friends?, murder mention, dub con bondage, impaled limb, defiant whumpee, field medicine and captivity.

Among the gravel and devastation, someone sweated the big drop just trying to get to someone. The quiet was made of the crackling fire and rocks sliding under their step; their “friends” long gone to be celebrated for their did. After years of endless, tiresome battles, they had brought Villain down.

However the hero that had turned off the microphone on the collar around their neck wasn’t sure their team had been heroic at all.

Villain had self destructed after being surrounded without escape. Fearing what they might do with them once captured, they blew up their whole base. Or that’s what the leader told the rest.

Hero spent hours after dawn searching. Digging and clinging to any little sound. After a few hours of smelling nothing but dust and their own blood, they found them. The hero’s breathing slowed looking at villain so utterly defenseless, dirty with blood pooling below them because of how a piece of the fallen building impaled one of their arms, and still somehow, when Hero got closer, was able to pull a scowl.

“Don’t get any closer, hero…” they said between laboured pants.

“Can you stop me?” They stepped forward regardless of their hissing. Hero was slightly amused of Villain recoiling their legs closer, away from their reach. “You lost, Villain”

Their eyes widened before pressing their lips into a tight line “Not yet, I… Im not yet-º

“There’s nothing left. It’s done” they cut them off, now towering over them. “And if you don’t treat that arm you will be done for, too”

“What?” Villain blurted out as Hero placed their hands over the metal structure “The hell are you doing?! Get off!” They screamed throwing weak punches at Hero’s legs and shins. They pushed with all their strength, grunting under their breath and panting harder before wheezing out of the effort. A few drips of blood stained hero’s boots “You’re not taking me to lock me up. That’s. Not. Happening.” they snarled with the fury of a wild animal that’s desperately fighting to get off a hunter’s trap. “Not when I was so close… I won’t let that happen!”

Hero looked from above at the pitiful image of their enemy trying to pointlessly push them away while taking their last breaths.

“They told me to leave you to die” Hero admitted suddenly. Catching villain off guard and throwing them off enough to make them look up at them in surprise. “If I found you alive, they told me to kill you slowly. If I found you half dead, to watch and bring your corpse” Hero’s dark eyes usually had a gleam Villain despised. But hopefulness wasn’t on the eyes that looked down on the dirty villain before them. Both of them knew that but Villain sighed a harsh breath.

After a long moment, Villain kept their eyes trained down, they spoke in a weak voice “They said I…ah, deserved that, didn’t they?”

“Yes”

Villain stilled and their bleeding arm tensed up, blood speeding down at the pressure before Villain released with a whimper. Their voice was empty and completely uncharacteristic of the Villain they knew “Maybe you should listen to them”

“Maybe” the hero said placing their hands over the metal again, firmly buckling their elbows in preparation “But if we’re done dealing with you I can choose for myself” they continued at the same time they freed their arm and Villain cried out.

Villain cradled their injured arm close, losing energy by the second and already tired out from the previous battle, Hero didn’t have to use their super strength to treat their injuries with the medical glue. An sticky white material that was applied with a gun and acted as a plug to stop the bleeding on deep injuries. They had pierced their arm in two sections, forearm and triceps, too close to the center and maybe too dangerous to have only the glue working when Villain was that pale from blood loss. They had to get somewhere else and get better treatment.

But Villain made one last effort to avoid their fate being suddenly placed on Hero’s hands, trying to jump away and falling into a pit filled with water from a busted out pipe. They crawled. Or tried to, but they had no more energy to lift themselves up the ground. Consciousness slipping, they felt themselves get scooped up, a warmth they despised, firmly against their cheek as the world turned white around the edges.

In Hero’s back, with the sway of their trot over the remains of their base, Villain cried helplessly. After so long, it was really over. Them and their work and everything they longed for was…gone. They could see the devastation beyond the ruins. They knew they were no saint, but now after losing, had it been worth it? All the sacrifices made?

They had dreams they took a long, long time to even imagine them. Much more setting them into motion. But they weren’t on the side that get their dreams realized, were they?

“Why?” Villain suddenly asked as Hero was getting back to their airship hidden in the woods, now just a few dead branches from the aftershock of the buildings collapsing.

“Why what?”

Villain couldn’t even find it in them to open their eyes. No energy left to fight either. There was no point now “You’re a…special kind of naive for…helping me when you’re killing me anyways” they said, controlling their breathing to not give out how tired they were. Hero probably already knew, anyways, by how they hanged limp on their back.

“Im not killing you”

“Same thing as locking me up” Hero stayed quiet a second. The sound of their boots crunching the dirt and loose branches didn’t stop.

“I won’t do that either”

Villain laughed wryly “Not just naive but stupid too”

“Guess stupid people stick together” Hero stopped a second to readjust their grip on Villain. A careful hop that let their head rest against their broad back, before they continued and Villain heard the engine of the airship.

“Dunno, your squad isn’t here…” Villain’s stomach churned at the frustration of getting carried into their enemy’s ship, hopelessly under their mercy. Just about to fill every nightmare they had relentlessly tried to avoid. But there was something about the way Hero laughed as they carefully laid them on the bed with nylon belts that ignited a doubt, a little spark of hope that Villain shoved down. In a situation like that hope didn’t have room anymore.

“I wasn’t talking about them” Hero said before eyeing the belts and sighing. Trouble noticeable in their face before deciding to speak again “We will fly to get you help but I need you to be still. I’m sorry but I’ll have to restrain you”

Villain snorted and gave a breathy laugh that ended in them pressing their mouth shut trying to cover the wince of pain from moving their arm. “Your lot never asked before” Villain shakily crossed their arms over their chest, and a dark thought tingled on Hero’s mind. Villain seemed to know exactly how the restraints of the airship worked already. They had never managed to capture them so why..? Villain panted harder and Hero pulled their attention on cinching the belts around them. Over their legs and the three over their chest, careful of the injured arm and passing one over their forehead. They were leaving to the cabin, when Villain talked again. “Neck. You forgot”

“My, you’re chattier than I thought” Hero said not moving an inch to buckle the belt over their neck. Villain opened their eyes and looked up at the metal ceiling, unable to turn or toss their head around. Only barely able to recline their head back a little. Honestly surprised to not been muzzled already.

They smiled at the inverted image of Hero “Just enjoying freedom as long as I can”

“Im not- “ Hero rubbed their temples before sighing long “We will talk about this later, but You can be sure of something, Villain” Hero said walking to the pilot seat and retracting the wheels as they heard the other take a deep breath and wince because of the constriction if the belts. As Hero’s ship went up and prepared for quick transport they added “I’m not giving up on you. Everyone can change”

Villain felt the pull on their stomach they knew so well and closed their eyes. Focusing on keeping an steady breath to not give in to panic.

“We’ll see about that”

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Among Us idea: Because I'm a little bit obsessed with game mechanics and glitches in fic...how about a round where one of the Hermits gets left behind? The game ends, and everyone but them is transported to the lobby, but they're just left on an empty ship flying eternally to some destination it will never reach... All the tasks are done. There's nothing left to do. So why is the game still keeping them there? And how do they escape? (It could also be two people left, if writing just one alone would be boring. Your choice who!)

SKSKSKSKSK HOW DO YOU DO THIS I’VE BEEN PLANNING OUT AN IDEA IN MY HEAD FOR THE LAST FEW DAYS IN WHICH TWO PLAYERS ACCIDENTALLY GET LEFT BEHIND HOW DO YOU KEEP READING MY MIND (/lh)

also i had a kind of idea to expand the concept a little bit and i hope that’s okay :)

also also i too love the ideas that utilise glitches or kinda ignore game mechanics; they're always so interesting to write! :D

…

Having finished his tasks a long time ago and not being teleported to any meetings lately, Skizz wanders around the whole ship, trying to find a friend. A buddy. Or literally anyone. But the ship seems deserted.

Finally, Skizz wanders into admin and checks the special table.

To his shock, he finds only two yellow faces on the screen: one in admin and one in cafeteria. So he rushes into the cafeteria and literally bumps into someone coming the other way.

“Oh my gosh, FINALLY,” Impulse breathes. “Where IS everyone?”

Skizz glances away, unable to meet his best friend’s gaze. “We have a problem.”

Impulse frowns. “What?” he asks warily.

“Um…” Skizz rubs the back of his neck. “So… it seems we’re the only two people on the ship.”

It takes a moment for Impulse’s brain to process what his friend just said. “...what?”

“I looked around the whole ship and then went to the admin table. There were only two yellow dots: me and you. There’s literally nobody else anywhere on the ship, dude.”

“But… I…” Impulse blinks. “How is that possible? Did the game end and leave us behind, somehow?”

“I feel like that’s the only possible explanation, but at the same time, it makes no sense.”

“Well, if this IS what happened, it’s gotta be a glitch, right?” says Impulse.

Skizz nods. “Gotta be. But now the question is… how do we get outta here?”

Impulse gazes around the room. “The game always automatically puts us back in the lobby when we’re done, so… I don’t think there’s a way of manually doing it.”

Skizz stares back at him with wide eyes. “You mean we’re stuck in THIS particular ship forever?!”

“W-Well, hopefully not FOREVER,” Impulse responds nervously. “I’m sure they’ll have realised we’re missing by now and they’ll be trying to get us back.”

“But what if they can’t?!” Skizz yelps. “We’ll be trapped in this purgatory forever!”

“Not helping, Skizz,” snaps Impulse. “We’ll be totally fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, like I can have ANY faith in your words anymore,” mutters Skizz, turning away.

Impulse glances sharply at him, sensing that his best friend’s words aren’t about Among Us. Not entirely. “What do you mean?”

Skizz just rolls his eyes and walks off.

Impulse watches him go. Looks like Skizz hasn’t been so quick to forgive and forget after all. Now the way Skizz was acting around him earlier makes sense.

After making a quick trip around the ship, Impulse discovers Skizz sitting leaning against the wall in admin, tossing a stack of ID cards at the wall one at a time.

“Still no way off,” Impulse reports. “Looks like we’re stuck here until they rescue us. Flying through space. On a ship heading to nowhere. An endless journey. With nothing except-.”

“Yes, okay, I get it!” Skizz snaps at him.

After a moment, Impulse leans against the admin table. “Skizz, you’ve been acting weird around me all night. I think we need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk.”

“C’mon. We’re stuck here on a ship on our own for the foreseeable future. There’s no better time to talk than now.”

“Okay!” snaps Skizz unexpectedly, jumping to his feet. “FINE! You wanna talk?! I don’t care! You did a LOT of talking back there on 3rd Life and not a word of it was true!”

Impulse frowns. “Is that what this is about?”

Skizz’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “WH- WHAT DO YOU MEAN “is that what this is about”?! You say that like I’m mad at you for stealing my sandwich! Impulse, you LIED to me, BETRAYED me, and then watched Grian KILL me! You told me over and over again that you were on my side and you were loyal to us but you planned to betray us from the start! Y-You planned to betray ME. Do you-” He breaks off with a bitter laugh. “You know what, I was gonna say “do you have any idea how much that hurts?” but you DO, don’t you? Because your own ally turned on you. And murdered you. And you know what? YOU DESERVED IT!”

Impulse can only stare at his best friend with an expression of guilt and sadness.

“I wanted you to go far, dude! I wanted you to win at one point!” Skizz’s voice cracks. “I thought you were the best of us but it turns out you were nothing but a dirty liar and a traitor! I thought “oh, his strategy of playing all sides is pretty smart, actually, but he’s gonna have to pick a side at some point” but I didn’t realise that meant pretending to pick a side and then STABBING THEM IN THE BACK! Of all the- the jerky things to do! You pick the worst one! I-I just don’t understand how you could do that to someone you’ve been a brother to for A QUARTER OF A CENTURY! GOD, you SO deserved to die and the biggest regret of my life is that I didn’t get imposter tonight so I could stab you in the FACE!”

Skizz finally stops talking, breathing heavily. He takes in a deep breath, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Wow… I did not expect to yell that much…”

“I…” Impulse searches for something to say. But he can’t find anything. “I don’t…”

“You don’t have to say anything, Impulse.” Skizz gives a weak smile. “I-I think I just needed to… to let my feelings out.”

“You just needed to yell at me, huh? I get that.”

“Haha, yeah. Remember that time I snuck onto Hermitcraft and did a bunch of reckless things and then died, and you didn’t know if I was gonna respawn or not?”

Impulse nods, a small smile appearing on his face. “That’s what I was indirectly referring to. I think my throat hurt from yelling at you for, like, two weeks after that.”

“Are we even now, then?” asks Skizz.

“Well, I mean… Probably not. I still have a lot to make up for.”

Skizz shakes his head. “No, it… it’s okay. We all did things in that place that we’re not proud of.”

“Even the great Skizzleman?” teases Impulse weakly.

“Oh heck yeah. I still have nightmares about how I violently murdered two of my friends and how bloodthirsty I felt for so long. It freaks me out that I got to that point, man. Even in Among Us when I murder people, even you, I never got THAT bad.”

“Yeah, 3rd Life was…” Again, Impulse searches for the right word. “...an experience. In more ways than one.”

“It really was,” Skizz murmurs, letting out a long breath. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have let it affect Among Us so much.”

“No, it’s okay. And we can-.”

Impulse breaks off Skizz suddenly disappears in front of him. Blinking, he just has time to take a step forward before the admin room vanishes and he finds himself back in the lobby.

With eight people staring at him.

“Oh my gosh, finally!” Tango gasps, grabbing both Impulse and Skizz in a hug. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, dude,” laughs Skizz quietly. “We just yelled at each other a bit, that’s all.”

Impulse chuckles. “Well, it was mostly Skizz doing the yelling.”

“Yeah, true. How did you guys even manage to get us out?”

“The insane genius that is Etho hacked into the code and managed to force the round to end again,” Tango responds. “Somehow. I dunno how. Took us a while to figure out what’d happened, though.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen that glitch before,” Etho chimes in. “There was six left, Grian and Ren double-killed me and Pungence to win, and that should’ve been it. The rest of us respawned in the lobby but we realised you two were missing.”

“Whoa, that’s so weird.” Skizz exchanges a look with Impulse. “Cuz for us, it was like the round just hadn’t ended.”

“Yeah, we’d both done all our tasks and we had no idea anything had happened.”

“What did you guys do?”

Impulse and Skizz shoot each other another look, silently making a mutual decision. “Just talked a bit and tried to look for a way out,” Impulse replies. “That’s all.”

Tango frowns, clearly picking up on the slight tension between them, but he doesn’t mention it. “Okay. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yeah.”

Skizz thinks back to the way he’d exploded at Impulse, and the way Impulse had looked at him with fear in his eyes. All the fury, the despair, the hurt… It had all spilled out at once. Skizz never wants to feel that way again.

“Let’s hope not.”