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corrodedcorpses · 2 years

Text

Boys on Film. Part ii.

Pairing: PS!Steve x PS!Eddie x Virgin!reader

Summary: It's been a week since you watched that tape and you haven't been able to get the images of Eddie and Steve out of your head since. Scared you'd say or do something weird around them, you've decided to avoid them instead. But of course, they show up announced just to torture you.

Warnings: Smut (18+), light angst, Masturbation (female), Voyeurism, Oral sex (m)

Word count: 9.5k (god damn)

a/n: Here's part 2!! Finally! Thank you so much for the love on the first part and I hope everyone enjoys this part!! Definitely more parts to come 🫢

Part 1 // Part 3

It’s been a week since you’d watched that damn video. A week since you’d even dared to touch yourself, the feelings of guilt growing each second that past since you’d come down from the most intense orgasm of your life.

Ever since that night you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to see them, or hardly even talk to them. They’d been ringing you nonstop but everytime you picked up the phone and heard their voice you could practically hear them moaning through the receiver. Each time you’d given them some excuse to end the call early, opting now to just not pick up the phone at all.

Of course they wouldn’t know what you’d done but you couldn’t shake the intense feeling of guilt. You felt guilty for seeing them like that, sure but you mostly felt the guilt at how much you ached for them now. How you would do anything to swap places with the girl in the video.

How you wanted your first time to be them.

You’d thought about nothing else and had imagined every scenario of you asking them to be your firsts. But every scenario you played out in your head ended with rejection. There’s no way they would ever see you like that, you were certain.

You also knew that they would sense something was wrong and you were certain Steve’s charm and Eddie’s smirk could convince you to confess to murder. There’s no way you would be able to keep your mouth shut.

But, even if you did somehow manage to just not mention it you weren’t sure you could be around them with all these new and weird feelings bubbling inside you. How could you stand to be around someone when your whole body longed for them?

***

Steve waited outside his house as he heard the familiar sounds of Eddie’s van coming down his street, the usual beat of some metal song Steve automatically recognises being heard before he could even see the van. I definitely hang out with Eddie too much, he thinks to himself with a fond smirk.

He nervously picks at the skin on his fingers as he waits for Eddie’s van to park before jogging down the driveway to meet him. He isn’t nervous to see Eddie, it's you. You've been distant with both of them and they’re worried. It’s not like you to push them away no matter what. So they both decided to show up at your house tonight, favourite takeaway in hand and get to the bottom of what was going on with you.

Eddie greets Steve as he climbs into his van.

“Do you think she’d prefer Chinese or Pizza tonight?” Eddie asks while backing out of the driveway.

“You choose,” Steve mumbles back. He’s uncharacteristically quiet and maybe even a little sad, Eddie notices.

“Hey, I’m sure whatever’s bothering her isn’t that big of a deal. She’ll talk to us, don’t worry.

Steve sighs in response, “you’re probably right, I guess I’m just thinking the worst. But what if we’ve done something, what if I’ve done something? Like something really bad and I didn’t realise?” Steve rambles.

Eddie tries his best to listen intently as Steve goes through the list of scenarios swimming around in his head.

“What if she has a boyfriend?” Steve questions, practically spitting the last word. He freezes as he realises how that must have sounded, “No- ah, I don't mean like that, of course she can have a boyfriend, it's not like she needs, my- um our permission and I wouldn’t like care, just, her last boyfriend was awful and I don’t want her hurt like that again”.

“Yeah, shit, I hated that guy,” Eddie agrees, brushing over the other awkwardness but Steve sees a weird and unreadable expression on Eddie’s face at the mention of your possible boyfriend being the cause for you pulling away so suddenly. “We only saw her less than two weeks ago anyway, there’s no way she could have met someone that fast,” Eddie reassures Steve, although it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more.

“Well, ah that’s not exactly true man,” Steve says sheepishly, “I did see her a couple days ago at the grocery store, right before I called you actually”.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I said hi and she was weird man, she was looking around too, like anywhere but me as if she was looking for someone maybe?”

“Oh.” Eddie clenched his jaw as his knuckles turned white against the steering wheel.

*****

You had just gotten home from work and changed into something comfortable, contemplating what you wanted for dinner tonight when you heard the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s van pull up your driveway

Shit.

You knew it was too good to be true that you would be able to keep your distance. Your goddamn amazing, sweet and thoughtful bestfriends of course knew you were avoiding them and of course they couldn’t just let you.

You quickly check yourself in the mirror, brushing down your hair and feeling weirdly self conscious in the tiny lounge shorts and singlet top both Eddie and Steve had seen you in countless times.

You contemplated changing into something more baggy but didn’t have time as you heard a rap at your door. It’s just Eddie and Steve you tell yourself as you open it.

The minute you see them they’re pulling you into tight hugs, telling you how much they both missed you. You mumble back that you missed them too but can’t help feeling tense under their once comforting touch.

“We bought your favourite”, Eddie sang as you let them inside, jiggling the plastic bag in his hand.

Your gaze lingered a little too long on Eddie's fingers as he gripped the bag, thoughts immediately going to how they looked wrapped around his cock or tangled in Steve’s hair. It’s not like you’d never noticed Eddie’s hands before, especially with those bloody rings he wore but it seemed as though you were seeing them, really seeing them for the first time.

You felt arousal pool at your core at the thought of them exploring all over you, inside of you.

I’m going to ask them.

You jumped as you felt Steve’s hand on your shoulder, realising you’d been staring at Eddie for way too long.

“You okay honey?” Steve asked, concern scrunching his features.

“Y-yeah, yeah sorry, I’m just a bit tired I think,” you replied with a weak laugh, “let's eat.”

Eddie and Steve share a look but don’t say anything as you all sit at the table at your usual spots. The spots you’ve all sat in millions of time, eating, laughing and drinking with the closest friends you’ve ever had. Friends that meant the world to you. Friends you couldn’t lose.

I can’t ask them.

Eddie and Steve started up a conversation, talking about a new scene Steve had done, how it was “by far one of the craziest”. Usually you’d be interested in what it was but as Steve kept rambling on, you just couldn’t get yourself to listen. Too caught up in your own thoughts as you mentally battled the ache between your legs.

It’s not like they’d care right? I mean they do this for work. It’d just be like work. It couldn’t hurt to ask at least… unless they completely reject you and you ruin the best friendship you’ve ever had.

But they did that scene together, they even kissed and did… other stuff and it didn’t ruin their friendship. If anything they seem closer now, it would be the same for you, right?

But that’s their job. It would be different with you. You’re less skilled, less confident, this isn’t your job.

Maybe it would be better with you? You’ve known them forever, maybe they’d be even more comfortable if it were you?

God, you’re not even listening to what Steve’s saying. You feel like such a bad friend. Here you are thinking about fucking both of them instead of listening and having a nice dinner with them. A dinner of your favourite food that they surprised you with because they knew something was off with you.

How did I get lucky enough to have these two boys in my life?

But you were lucky. These two boys knew you. They knew everything about you and would never judge you. Even if they didn’t want to do it with you, you knew they’d be nice about it. God knows they’ve said and asked you more embarrassing things, they’d forgive you, they’d be kind.

You want your first time to be them.

You knew you’d never be able to think straight unless you just asked them. Before your brain could catch up with your mouth you suddenly blurted it out.

“I wanna fuck,” you cut off Steve suddenly, almost yelling it out and startling them both, “me, both of you, want you to fuck me.” The last bit comes out in barely a whisper.

Wow so smooth

Eddie all but chokes on his food while Steve lets out a shocked what????

You look down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers as your cheeks flush with embarrassment… this wasn’t how you were going to ask and that definitely wasn;t the reaction you’d hoped for.

They both stare at you, waiting for some kind of explanation.

“I watched the tape,” you mumble.

“Ohhhhh,” Eddie says as Steve looks at him confused. Steve didn’t know that Eddie dropped the tape off, shit.

“The tape, Harrington,” Eddie explains, “you know, of the two sexiest men alive doing some very naughty things together.”

It finally clicks in Steve’s head what you’re both talking about. “You gave her a copy of the tape?” He asks.

He sounds angry, you think as shame washes over you.

“How did you even get extra copies yet?” Steve asks Eddie.

“I gave her my personal copy,” Eddie shrugs.

They’re glossing over your question.

You sink in on yourself further. This was such a bad idea, of course they wouldn’t want to fuck you. The girl in the tape was so confident, so experienced. Why would they want to go for someone like you? There’s no way they’d have any fun with you.

“Didn’t want her to have to wait until it was fully released and good thing I didn’t. You liked what ya saw that much huh sweetheart?” Eddie says cockily.

You know he doesn’t mean it to come out mean but it has you on the verge of tears. You feel so embarrassed, contemplating running to your room and locking yourself in until they leave. You can’t bring yourself to look at them.

Steve kicks Eddie under the table at seeing your reaction to his comment.

“Ouch! Dude what the-“ he goes to scold Steve but quickly stops at the look on Steve’s face. Steve cocks his head towards you and gives Eddie a look of shut up, look what you did.

Eddie looks over at you, seeming to only just notice how much you’ve shrunk in your seat. Tears threatening to fall out of the corner of your sad, embarrassed eyes.

“No, sweetheart, I’m sorry please don’t cry,” Eddie tried to console. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you I just ah, did not expect that.”

Steve seems somewhat pleased with that and tries his best to sooth you too. “Come on honey, we’re not mad or anything, promise,” Eddie nods in agreement and mumbles out a “yeah absolutely not”. “We were just a little shocked is all.” Steve continues with a laugh.

You finally chance a glance at them. You’re surprised to see no anger or teasing looks on their faces. They look kind, safe and maybe like pitying you just a little bit. Still not what you were hoping for but you’d take it over them being angry and hating you forever.

You take a deep breath before finally talking properly for the first time all night.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve found a better way to ask, it’s just,” you sigh, trying to form the right words this time, “you both know I’m not the most experienced - or really experienced at all- and the little experience I do have… wasn’t the best.”

Eddie snorts, recalling you ex- douchebag with a scoff of “understatement”. You smile slightly at how annoyed he still is at how your ex treated you.

“And I just,” you continue, “when I saw both of you, with that chick, and how much she was enjoying it and how much fun it looked, I guess I just felt like maybe I was missing out.”

“Hey,” Steve coos, taking your hand gently in his,”you’re not missing out on anything, there's no timeframe for when you have to do that stuff.”

“I mean, it is definitely fun,” Eddie expands, “but only if you’re comfortable and feel like it’s the right time for you.”

You give them both a small smile. They’re so nice, but they still didn’t say yes.

“I’m sorry I asked,” you say sheepishly, “I just feel so safe with you both and I guess just thought that maybe sex would actually be good with you. I know that was stupid because you’re my best friends and I wouldn’t know what I’m doing so I know you wouldn’t have fun with me. I can’t do the things that the other girl did.”

Their hearts swell at your confession, you feel safe with them. But they grow confused as you mention the girl from the tape.

“Hey,” Eddie tries, “experience doesn’t mean shit -”

“Eddie, I can hardly even make myself cum!” you practically yell at him, you appreciate them trying to be nice but you’re growing frustrated at the whole situation, “I know you both don’t want to and I know you wouldn’t have fun, it’s okay.”

“Wait seriously?” Eddie exclaims before he can stop himself.

Great, another thing to feel shame about.

This earns him another look from Steve. “No not like that,” Eddie tries to rectify what he said, “it just seems like a real shame that a pretty thing like you hardly ever gets to feel good, even from herself.”

You roll your eyes at his trademark flirting but have to hide the smile trying to grace your lips at him calling you pretty.

Steve and Eddie share a look, seemingly having a silent conversation. You really hate how much closer they’ve gotten recently.

“Alright,” Eddie says with a nod, “we'll do it.”

“What?” you question.

“We wanna help you out,” Steve explains, “we want to be your firsts, if you still want to.”

You’re hearing things. You must be. The shame got too much and you passed out, this is now some weird and cruel trick your brain is playing on you. It has to be.

“A-are you sure?” you question hesitantly.

“Positive,” Eddie says while flashing his gorgeous smile, “hell, if I’d known it wouldn’t ruin our friendship I would’ve been all over you since highschool sweetheart.”

You shake your head and bite back a smile. You know he’s joking and just trying to butter you up - but you’re only half right.

“Well, how do we start?” You blurt out, you want them, need them right now.

“We’re not going to do anything tonight babe” Steve says sweetly.

“Oh, right,” you say embarrassed but they both smile sweetly at your eagerness.

“I’m free Tuesday and Wednesday next week, what about you two?” you ask.

“Yeah Tuesday works for me.”

“Me too.”

“Perfect,” Eddie says, “so Tuesday we’ll meet here and then we can sit down with you and figure out your likes and dislikes, what you have and haven’t done, and what you’d like to try. Just like we do before any scene we’re in.”

You’re kind of surprised to see Eddie so serious, all business. But you guess that makes sense, this is his job after all.

You appreciate how serious they’re treating this but can’t help but feel a little nervous now, you’re not even sure what you like.

Sensing your nerves, Steve quickly reassures you, “don’t worry, we’ll walk you through it okay?”.

“Yeah, we’ll figure all that stuff out together,” Eddie adds.

“Okay”, you reply.

Steve gives your knee a reassuring squeeze while Eddie flashes you a smile. You can’t believe how much you trust both men in front of you.

The rest of dinner went by smoothly. You felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your chest and you finally felt like your old self again. It was back to normal, just you, Eddie and Steve.

****

Wednesday comes around faster than you expected. You thought that the days in between would drag on but as Wednesday approached you found your nerves easily drawing the excitement you’d once felt. That’s when Wednesday seemed to be in front of you too quickly.

You’ve spent all afternoon after you got off work frantically cleaning, showering, drowning yourself in nice smelling things, washing your hair, moisturising, your whole routine practically 5 times over.

You hear a knock on the door, yelling that it’s open as you check yourself over once more in the mirror. You wipe your clammy palms on the front of your singlet top and shorts while trying to huff out all of your anxieties.

Come on you can do this, you wanted this.

You reach for the door with shaky hands, slinking out of the bathroom on jelly legs. You find them both relaxing on the couch, looking much more comfortable than you feel.

“H-hey,” you stutter out sheepishly. Their heads turn to you as they hear you enter. Comforting smiles adorn their faces, melting a tinge of your worries as soft heys leave their lips. Eddie pats the couch in between the two of them and you plop down between them, not meeting their eyes as you pick nervously at the skin on your fingers.

Eddie puts his arm on the back of the couch, absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair as Steve places his warm hand on your knee. The gestures are supposed to be comforting but you can’t help but flinch slightly under their touch.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks softly, ducking his head to try and meet your gaze.

“Y-yeah,” you respond shakily, hating how small your voice sounds.

“Hey, you know we don’t have to do this, yeah?” Eddie asks reassuringly, “say the word sweetheart and we’ll just hang out and watch a movie or something.”

“No, no, I want to… I just have no clue what I'm doing,” you respond with a nervous laugh.

“That’s what your own personal sex gods are for darling,” Eddie quips.

This earns a chuckle from you and Steve, your shoulders relaxing slightly at the familiar feeling of Eddie.

“So,” Steve announces, “what are some of your “hard no”s?” And at the confused look on your face, “what’s something that, no matter what, you do not want us to do.”

You looked away from him as you thought long and hard…. You came up blank though, how could you know what you didn’t like if you didn’t even know what you do?

“Hard No’s could be something like you hate neck kisses or in more intense situations you’re not a massive fan of face slapping, things like that.”

Your eyes widened at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything like that now! No slapping or anything, yet,” Eddie emphasised that with a wink, “but those are some examples.”

“I-I like neck kisses… I think,” you mumble, “and if we’re not going to do anything that… intense right now I guess I don’t really have any?”

Eddie and Steve nod as they hang on to your every word. The care in which they’re approaching this definitely helping to lower your rapid heart rate.

“Okay,” Steve continues, “anything you really want to try right now?”

“Umm… I guess I wish I was better at kissing,” you say with a cringe, embarrassed at how tame that request was, you try to cover yourself as your cheeks heat up. “I mean, I have kissed before, obviously, I just haven’t for a while and I dunno I feel like I kind of do it weird I don-“

Eddie cuts off your rambling when he brings his hand to cup your cheek. You look in his eyes hesitantly as you subconsciously nuzzle into his calloused hand.

A small smile adorns his lips as he searches your eyes, his own chocolate orbs darkening slightly as he glances at your lips.

He slowly brings his thumb up to ghost over your bottom lip, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms.

“We can definitely help with that, sweetheart,” he whispers lowly as he moves increasingly closer to you.

You nod slightly. Trying to will him to close the sliver of a distance between your lips.

“Words,” he whispers.

“Please,” you breathe. And it’s all Eddie needs to hear before closing the distance, his lips barely pressing into yours as if too much pressure would break you under him.

Feeling a surge of confidence you push your lips into his more. It’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s deepening the kiss. It’s all consuming, years of emotion, comfort and longing all coming to the surface as you kiss each other with vigour.

You feel Steve’s soft lips travel up your shoulder to the slope of your neck and up along your throat. You audibly shiver at the feeling, causing Eddie and Steve to smile into your lips and neck.

“Yeah you definitely like neck kisses,” Steve teases in between the feather touches. You don’t know if it’s from Steve’s tone or the kisses themselves but you can feel arousal pool in your panties because of it.

You feel all consumed by Steve and Eddie but before you can lose yourself in them completely you feel Eddie pull away. He smirks as you chase his lips but uses the hand still cupping your cheek to gently direct you towards Steve. You see that he also has his other hand cupping Steve’s cheek as he brings you both together.

Steve’s kiss is gentler than Eddies, where Eddie was all consuming Steve is controlled, where Eddie was intense and a little messy Steve is gentle and longing. Eddie’s hand on your face means he can slightly manoeuvre your face, gently guiding you as you and Steve explore each other's mouths.

Eddie then pulls you away from Steve, you’re about to protest but before you can Eddie leans forward on the couch, dragging Steve with him before crashing his lips against Steve’s in front of you.

You watch in awe as they practically devour each other. You can tell they were definitely holding back for you as this kiss is feral and bruising. It has you clenching your thighs together, longing for them to handle you like this.

You’re also very aware of Eddie’s hand still cupping your face and Steve’s hand still on your knee, both of them rubbing soothing circles in your skin to let you know they haven’t forgotten about you.

You whine as you watch the continued onslaught, causing Eddie and Steve to finally break the kiss.

“This is supposed to be about her,” Steve breathes into Eddie’s lips, faces barely pulled away from each other.

“Couldn’t help myself,” Eddie mumbles, staring at Steve’s raw and glistening lips.

“I don’t mind,” you say quickly, as much as you’d love for their attention to be back on you, you cannot deny how erotic it was watching them together, “trust me.”

They chuckle at how breathless you sound just from some kissing, but it only spurs them on more.

Eddie leans away from Steve then, dropping his hand from Steve’s face to bring both hands up to your face, palms pressed into your cheeks gently, contrasting the fierce kiss he seers into your lips.

The kiss still doesn’t match the roughness of Eddie and Steve’s kiss but it’s by far the most intensely you’ve ever been kissed. It’s all consuming and leaves you breathless but aching for more. You subconsciously press yourself further into Eddie as you let him consume you.

Eddie can’t get enough of you either, wishing he’d had the courage to do this years ago. He expertly hooks his hands under your knees and drags you on to his lap, swallowing the gasp you let out into his mouth, lips never leaving each other.

His hands venture up the sides of your plush thighs, you can tell that he’s holding back, doing his best to not overwhelm you but you need more. You tangle your fingers in his soft, frizzy hair, pulling every so slightly, as you start to timidly rock your hips against him, earning the most beautiful groan from him.

You hear Steve shuffle closer, sitting with his thigh pressed into the side of calf as you straddle Eddie. His hand travelling up your back soothingly until it comes to rest on the side of your neck.

At hearing Steve shuffle forward, Eddie pulls back from you again, so that Steve can capture your lips but also so he can take a breather, self control drastically slipping away the longer he feels your body move on his.

Steve matches Eddie’s intensity, causing you to let little moans and sighs slip into his lips as you continue to grind against Eddie. Your little shorts and soft fabric of your underwear were almost soaked through.

Eddie watches you both, pupils blown completely black from lust. You rock your hips at a particularly good angle, dragging sinfully over Eddie’s almost hard dick. He hisses and throws his head back, willing himself to stay softer for long. This is about you, he tries to remind himself.

“We should take this to the bedroom,” Eddie sighs with a shaky breath, desperation lacing his words.

You giggle and hop off his lap, taking both of their hands and pulling them up off the couch before turning to lead them to your room. Boy are they thankful for you going first, their eyes watching your ass jiggle in your incredibly tight and tiny shorts as you walk.

You stand awkwardly in the middle of the room as they both filter in after you.

“So, we’ve talked about it,” Steve breaks the silence first, “and we think the first thing should be you showing us how you get yourself off.”

“That way at least you know how to make yourself feel good and it's a real shame you’re missing out.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, but don’t move, you’re not really sure what they want from you and you’re frozen from the fear of making a fool of yourself. Also trying not to think about the fact that they’ve talked about it, talked about you and how to make you feel good without you. But also very thankful that they’re obviously taking this very seriously.

After a pause Eddie continues, “why don’t you take your shorts off for us, yeah?”

You nod, and with trembling fingers you slowly slide your shorts off. Both boys eye your core, clad in cute cotton panties.

“These are cute,” Eddie whispers, ghosting his fingers along your bare thigh before snapping your waistband lightly against you. You jump and giggle, ducking your head as your cheeks turn crimson.

“Hop on the bed for us?” Eddie asks, but it’s more of a request, “Get nice and comfy against the headboard.”

You do as they say, leaning back against your pillows half propped up as the boys come to kneel at the end of your bed, watching you intently. You’re confused as to why you’re not fully naked, or at least have your underwear off but don’t have time to dwell on that.

“Whenever you’re ready, beautiful,” Steve coos.

Before you can overthink it you move your underwear to the side, plunging your finger in straight away. “Whoa whoa whoa, hey,” Eddie stops you and you freeze and take your finger out instantly, looking up at him with worried eyes, anxious thoughts swimming in your head, “you just put your fingers in straight away?”

“Well yeah…” how else were you supposed to finger yourself?

Steve smiles at your innocence, trying not to laugh at how adorable you look right now.

“Jesus well no wonder you can’t make yourself cum, there’s no foreplay”

You just look at them confused.

“You know,” Steve tries, “you gotta get yourself warmed up.” But you still just stare confusedly at them.

They exchange a look, wondering how else to explain it to you.

“Hang on I got an idea,” Steve says, climbing towards you on the bed. Your breath hitches as you watch him crawl towards you, very aware of his proximity to your half naked form, even though you just had your lips all over his minutes ago. “Sit up and scoot down for me a little bit honey?”

You do as he says and he comes to sit behind you, legs outstretched on either side of yours. He softly drags his fingertips down your arms, until he reaches your hands, you go to hold his hands and you feel him smile against the side of your head.

“Other way,” he whispers and you flip your hands so that the back of yours is resting in his palms.

“That’s it,” he coos, “now rub your hands up your thighs, yeah, just like that.” Goosebumps started to rise on your skin from the slight touches, running up and down your legs, sometimes dipping in between them but never actually touching your core.

“Give those gorgeous tits some attention Stevie,” Eddie demands softly, eyes burning holes into you and Steve in front of him.

Steve complies silently. Bringing your hands up for you to cup one of your breasts, squeezing softly as your other hand teases the waistband of your panties. Everything feels so good and so sensual but it’s not enough. You start to get antsy, whimpering softly and arching into your own touch, willing Steve to give you more.

Your eyes meet Eddie’s silently begging him to make Steve do something. You’re lucky that Eddie seems to be in a gentle mood today as he smirks at you.

“Why don’t you show us those pretty tits properly huh?”

“Please,” you whine desperately.

Steve lets go of your hands to lift your shirt over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor. You suddenly feel very self conscious but the look of awe on Eddie’s face and the sharp intake of breath you hear Steve take behind you has you feeling more confident than you thought.

You can’t help but think back to the look on their faces as they watched the other girl on the tape. You feel almost pride as you realise the way Eddie is looking at you is different, better. He’s looking at you not just with lust but with awe and adoration.

Steve finally brings both of your hands up to cup your tits firmly, nudging your thumbs up to rub your nipples into hard perks. You moan at the feeling, head lulling back against his shoulder and grinding into the mattress to try and gain some friction.

“God, look at you,” Eddie practically moans, “wish you could see how pretty and needy she looks right now, and so wet.” You whimper at his words, grinding harder and pinching your nipples.

“Yeah?” Steve whispers, lips grazing your ear, “that feel good princess? You ready for some more?”

“Please more, n-need more,” you beg.

“Mmm good girl using your manners,” Eddie teases, as he inches his hands towards your core, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties. Your stomach flips at the praise, breath hitching. Finally you get to be their good girl. Steve takes note of that.

Eddie pauses, looking at you for confirmation before pulling them down your legs once you nod.

Any previous nerves you might have had at being fully naked before them, especially while they were still fully clothed is gone. Replaces only with lust and your need to come.

Eddie repositions your legs so that they’re spread open and bent before him as he leans back on his heels between them. Steve finally directs your hand to your core.

“Think you can do this part yourself?” He checks, “we’ll still walk you through it though okay?”

“Yeah, I can,” you reply.

“Good girl,” he coos much more sweetly than Eddie, smirking when he gets a similar reaction, “leave this hand up here though, keep giving these tits some love.”

You nod and Steve lets go of your other hand, it’s all up to you now. You dip your fingers near your core, but this time you run your fingers over it, surprised at how wet you feel as you smear the slick around.

“That’s it, pretty girl, nice and slow,” Eddie coos.

You finally dip your finger into your dripping cunt, moaning at how much more intense it is compared to usual. You pump your finger inside you, and try your best to remember to play with your nipple at the same time.

Slowly you add another finger, pumping them faster.

“Do you usually play with your clit too baby?”

You shake your head, “it’s never really felt that good.”

“You’re nice and wet, trust me it’ll feel good,” Eddie assures you, “use your thumb but keep those fingers going in your pretty cunt.”

Your eyes roll back at his words as you bring your thumb up to circle your clit. You jolt as you feel the pad slide over the wet bud,

“Fuck it feels so good,” you moan as the boys smirk at you.

You speed up your assault on your sopping pussy. Feeling the telltale signs that your orgasm was rapidly approaching.

“‘M close,” you warn desperately. The sounds of your fingers flying in and out of your dripping core filling the room.

You vaguely hear them tell you that you can cum before your orgasm crashes into you. It's so intense it has you practically screaming, legs shaking as you drench your hand and wrist.

It lasts for what seems like hours as you continue to finger yourself through it before slumping back against Steve, fingers falling from your abused hole.

You’re a panting, whimpering mess as you finally register Eddie and Steve whispering sweet praises of you did so good for us, you’re so pretty baby and bet that felt good sweet girl. All while Steve caresses your shoulders and arms as Eddie smooths circles in your ankles.

When Eddie can see you’ve finally returned to earth he asks how it was, a smug look gracing his features.

“So good,” you moan with a laugh.

Eddie then climbs in between your legs, giving you a soft kiss as he mumbles “you look so pretty when you cum for us little one.” The old nickname has your heart swelling and cunt pulsing.

“More,” you whimper against his lips. They chuckle at you as Steve presses a kiss to your temple.

“Not today sweetheart,” Eddie responds, “wouldn’t want to overwhelm you”.

“But what about you two?” you ask innocently, wanting nothing more than to get your hands on more of them.

“It’s okay sweet girl,” Eddie coos, “you don’t have to worry about us.” Steve mumbles in agreement, pressing more kisses to your temple and cheek.

You suddenly remember the position in the tape that made you get to the edge fastest, Steve on his knees in front of Eddie. You need to see them fully, you need to see what you got a glimpse at on the tape.

“Hey you know, in the- ah, in the film,” you start, nerves suddenly returning. Eddie cocks his head, interested in where this is going. “A-after you,” you nod towards Eddie, “had fucked her and then Steve um… knelt in front of you and um-” you try your best to explain it but you can’t seem to form the words you need. Brain foggy from your orgasm and nerves.

“You wanna watch Stevie suck my cock baby?” Eddie asks cockily, finishing your request for you.

You nod.

“hmm guess it’s a good way to teach her how,” Steve reasons.

“Mmm,” Eddie hums in agreement, “and I’d be lying if I said seeing you cum didn’t make me as hard as a rock sweetheart”. You look down and blush at the obvious outline of Eddie’s hard cock in his pants, eyes bulging slightly. You knew he was big, you saw it in the tape, but seeing even the outline in person was completely different. You meet his eyes again and he gives you a wink, causing your cheeks to heat up.

“Yeah shit,” Steve replies, “me too.” That’s when you realise you can feel his boner pressed against your back, causing you to blush even further. Surprised you had the effect on both of them.

“Besides,” Steve continues, tone flirty, “would love to get my mouth around that pretty cock of yours again Eds.” You whimper at his words which causes both of them to chuckle fondly at you.

“Hop up baby,” Steve instructs while patting the sides of your ass fondly, “We’ll go kneel in front of Ed’s on the floor while he sits on the bed, everyone can be nice and comfortable like that.”

You nod as you hop off the bed. Eddie rids himself of his shirt as he sits at the end of the bed, grabbing one of your pillows to place on the floor before helping you to kneel on it in between his spread legs.

Your eyes wander over the expanse of his chest and stomach unabashedly. Feeling much bolder in your post orgasm haze. You take in the black ink that lines his chest and arms, a few more than you realised he’d had and that you’d definitely missed while watching the tape. In your defence you were a little preoccupied then.

Your eyes linger a little on the happy trail that dips into the waist of his jeans. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that you’re going to see Eddie, all of Eddie in person. Something you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about, many times, since that first week at highschool.

Your eyes travel up and take in how his curly locks cascade over his shoulders, almost covering the demon that adorns his upper chest. Your eyes finally meet his and you realise he’s been watching you watch him the whole time, an amused expression on his face.

He brings his hand up to cup your face, rubbing soothing circles in your skin. Your eyes flutter slightly as you nuzzle into his hand.

You notice Steve as he comes to stand next to you, having taken his shirt off too as well as his jeans, leaving him in nothing but his boxers before you. His dick has softened slightly but you can still make out a pretty clear outline of it in your boxers. The site makes you ache for them, but you know they’re going to make you take this painfully slow.

You look up at him in awe as he comes to kneel beside you, capturing your lips with his, smiling as he kisses you sweetly.

“Ready Eds?” Steve asks tauntingly, pulling away from you, already knowing Eddie’s answer.

“Yep,” Eddie replies, popping the last letter of the word.

Steve’s hands smooth up Eddie’s thighs, looking up at him innocently. He goes to pop open the button of Eddie’s jeans but before he can, a thought crosses your mind.

“Do guys need to be, like, “warmed up” too?” you ask innocently.

“Not exactly,” Eddie responds with a sweet, gentle smile, “maybe a little bit to get hard but trust me, watching you cum and having you two pretty things kneeling in front of me is more than enough warming up for me.” He chuckles with a shake of his head, like he’s in disbelief of the sight in front of him.

Steve finally unbuttons Eddie's jeans, pulling his pants and boxers down as Eddie lifts his hips to help. You and Steve move back slightly so Eddie can get his pants off fully.

You watch, mouth slightly agape as his dick springs up against his stomach, tip red and leaking precum. Your mouth waters at the sight, but you wait for Steve to demonstrate.

You watch as Steve takes Eddie in his hand, gripping loosely as he licks from his balls all the way to the tip. Your eyes flick to Eddie’s face, watching as his eyes flutter softly as he sucks in a breath at the feeling of Steve's tongue on his shaft.

After licking up and down Eddie’s length a couple of times Steve finally takes the tip into his mouth, sucking wetly on it. You watch with lidded eyes as Eddie’s head lulls back, exposing the length of his gorgeous neck as he moans out “jesus Steve.”

Steve smiles as much as he can with Eddie still in his mouth before bobbing his head up and down along the length, taking more and more into his mouth with each movement. He suddenly brings his hand up to the length not in his mouth before pulling off Eddie fully with a pop and spitting a string of saliva over the tip.

You watch it drip slowly down the length, mouth opening slightly at the urge to lick it up.

Steve then brings his hand up, catching the spit and rubbing it all over Eddie before taking him back in his mouth, Eddie’s hand flying to Steve’s head to tangle his fingers in the golden locks. You feel more arousal coat your slit as you watch Steve suck Eddie’s cock desperately.

You hear pretty, soft moans coming from Eddie. You tear your eyes away from Steve to glance up at Eddie’s face. You look at him through lust filled eyes. His lips parted slightly as his moans fall off them, eyebrows furrowed slightly as his face contorts with the onslaught of pleasure, his bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead. He looks breathtaking.

Eddie notices you staring, dark, chocolate orbs finding your lust filled ones as he holds your gaze, staring deep into you as he continues to moan and whimper.

Your body feels like it's on fire. You need to feel Eddie down your throat.

“Can I try?” you ask suddenly. Tearing your gaze from Eddie back to Steve as he releases the older boy from his mouth. His lips are red and swollen, mouth wet from a mix of saliva and Eddie’s precum, his hair dishevelled from Eddie’s fingers and tears pricking the corners of his eyes.

“Sure thing pretty girl,” Steve rasps, his throat raw from Eddie’s cock, “you think you got it?”

You nod before leaning forward, tongue darting out to rub along Eddie’s slit as Steve still holds the shaft for you. The salty, musky taste of the mix of Eddie’s pre and Steve’s saliva invades your mouth, you need more.

Cautiously you take the tip into your mouth, sucking on it lightly. You hear Eddie suck in a shaky breath in response, your confidence growing as you start to suck more harshly.

You start to bob your head before Steve pats your head mumbling out a one second. You release Eddie from your mouth with a confused look on your face and Steve just wants to kiss it away.

He grabs your hand with the one not around Eddie and brings it to his lips. Kissing the palm before spitting directly on to it. You gasp slightly at the action, not realising how turned on that would make you.

Steve then directs your hand to Eddie’s length, replacing his hand with yours. You take the tip in your mouth again, using the other hand to jerk off the length not in your mouth, as Steve had.

You start to bob your head faster and take more of Eddie into your throat. His moans increase and you can tell he’s trying his best not to tangle his fingers roughly in your hair too, knuckles white as he grips the duvet instead.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he moans. You get a little too cocky when his head hits the back of your throat violently, causing you to gag on his thick length, you hear Eddie moan in surprise before you’re pulling off of him, spluttering as tears prick your eyes.

Eddie rubs your head soothingly, while Steve rubs your back, cooing softly at you until you stop coughing.

“Sorry,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed by your reaction. Eddie wipes away a stray tear that’s fallen down your cheek

“S’okay baby,” he reassures, “you don’t have to go that deep.”

“I just wanted to make you cum,” you mumble, looking down at the floor.

“Oh sweet girl, trust me you will,” he expels air, almost in disbelief at how good you were making him feel, “you were getting me so close.”

“Really?” you ask, eyes twinkling up at him.

He nods with a fond look on his face, “wanna try again?”

You nod vigorously, gripping on to his shaft again. You remember how Steve had licked the length of Eddie before taking him into his mouth. You repeat his action from earlier while maintaining eye contact with Eddie, earning you a low moan of oh fuck before taking him into your mouth once more.

You bob your head a couple more times, speeding up and making sure you keep jerking off the part you can’t fit into your mouth. Eddie's hand flies to your head but he tries his best to not push your head or grab your hair too tightly.

His head tips back with a groan, orgasm hurtling towards him after holding back and being edged for so long - not that he minded, he wanted to make this good for you, even if that meant being edged all night.

Eddie turns into a babbling mess, “fuck baby I’m getting so close, yeah just like that, you’re such a good girl for us, yeah, don’t take it too deep, just keep going like that sweetheart.”

You feel Eddie’s dick get incredibly hard, pulsing in your mouth and you know he’s close.

“Oh fuck baby, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum in that pretty mouth,” he warns. You only look up at him, maintaining eye contact as you continue to suck him.

“Shit, you want it, don’t ya baby? My dirty fucking girl,” he drawls out.

You moan in response, the vibrations shooting straight up Eddie’s spine. It’s all Eddie needs to send him over the edge.

“I’m gonna, fuck sweetheart, I’m gonna-” Eddie cums down your throat with a loud moan, you do your best to swallow it all but some of his cum dribbles out the side of your mouth involuntarily.

Once you’re sure you've got the last drop you let Eddie fall out of your mouth with a pop. Eddie and Steve stare at you in awe, you look completely fucked out with you glassy eyes, swollen lips and cum dripping down to your chin.

Steve can’t help himself - he’d missed the taste of Eddie too much- he leans forward, licking from your chin to your mouth before capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss. Tongue frantically exploring every crevice, savouring any taste of Eddie he can get.

Eddie watches you both, panting as he comes down from his high. He can see the outline of Steve’s hard cock straining painfully against his boxers, his mouth waters as he gets an idea.

“I’d hate to break you two up but I think Stevie more than deserves some attention from us too sweetheart.”

You break the kiss with a wicked smile on your face, oh he definitely does.

“Wanna help me babe?” He asks you.

“Please,” you reply too sweetly.

“Alright, swap with me Steve,” Eddie instructs.

The boys swap positions and Steve rids himself of his boxers before sitting in his spot on the bed. You swallow hard at the sight of his thick cock before you, much thicker than Eddie’s is and you’d struggled with his. Your uncertainty must show on your face because Steve tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Don’t worry, Eddie’s gotcha honey,” he reassures cockily.

“I’m gonna put my hand on your head okay?” Eddie explains, “then I’m gonna move it so one of us is sucking him off while the other plays with his balls and then we’ll swap, sound okay?”

“Jesus…” Steve pants at the idea, there’s no way he’s gonna last with both of you playing with him. You nod at Eddie’s question as his hand comes to tangle softly in your hair.

He guides you to Steve’s balls while he takes Steve’s tip into his mouth. Steve groans loudly at the sudden onslaught of pleasure from you both.

You lick Steve’s fuzzy sack sloppily before chancing at taking one into your mouth and sucking lightly. He gasps at the feeling, accidentally bucking at the feeling. You expect Eddie to gag but you’re surprised at how easily Eddie takes him almost all the way down his throat before continuing to bob on him lazily.

You feel Eddie tug your hair lightly, making you change positions with him. You open your mouth as far as it’ll go before taking Steve’s glistening tip into your mouth. The stretch to your jaw was intoxicating.

You feel Eddie’s head move up again towards the tip so you release Steve from your mouth, thinking you’re swapping positions again but Eddie doesn’t let you move your head back to Steve’s balls. You watch as he continues to lick all over Steve’s shaft and tip, so you decide to copy his motions instead.

You both lick messily around Steve, a mix of saliva and pre coating every inch of him. Every now and then you feel Eddie’s tongue graze your own until you’re both practically making out over the tip. You can hear Steve panting and moaning above you. Every time you glance up at him he's watching you both with a dazed, almost pained expression.

“You guys are, fuck, I’m getting close,” Steve warns.

At Steve's warning Eddie directs you back to Steve’s balls and you gleefully take one back into your mouth. Eddie takes most of Steve’s length into his mouth, deepthroating him and swallowing, before hallowing his cheeks and dragging his mouth up to the tip . He repeats this over and over until you feel Steve start to shake above you.

Steve doesn’t even get a chance to warn you both before he’s cumming in Eddie’s mouth with a broken cry, hands flying to both of your heads, holding you both close to him. You’re the first to pull back, watching as Eddie sucks the last out of Steve’s tip with a whine.

Eddie hears it, and before you see him swallow he’s crashing his lips to yours, shoving his cum covered tongue down your throat. You gasp as it invades your mouth but the sound quickly turns into a moan as you taste Steve on your tongue.

The kiss is heated and dizzyingly dirty. You’re moaning into each other’s mouths, hands gripping on to each other as your bodies start to inch closer together. You think you’re finally going to feel Eddie’s body pressed against yours when he stops suddenly.

Eddie could feel himself getting worked up again, and knew if this continued he would have a hard time holding back, wanting nothing more than to make you cum over and over again on his fingers, tongue and cock. Another time he reminds himself.

All three of you sit panting, none of you willing to break the silence that’s fallen over the room.

You laugh breathlessly, “holy shit”, you exclaim in disbelief at how the night had unfolded, it was perfect.

Eddie and Steve copy your breathless laugh.

“That good huh?” Eddie asks

“It was, shit, it was so good.”

“Good,” steve responds, “it was fucking good for us too.”

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie agrees.

“Alright,” Steve groans as he stands up with a stretch, “I desperately need a shower.”

You and Eddie roll your eyes and chuckle at Steve fondly, he sees and give you both the finger while walking back to the living room to grab his and Eddie’s bag, throwing it at the other boy, earning a full blown laugh from you.

Eddie then stands up before flopping on to the bed, grabbing out to you until you crawl up beside him to join him. He lays on his back while you snuggle up on your side next to him, barely touching each other but close enough to take in the comfort of the others presence.

“Ya know, if I didn’t know you better I’d think you were lying about being a virgin babe,” he says with no malice behind it, tucking your hair sweetly behind your ear.

You snort and roll your eyes at him.

“I’m serious!” he assures you, “one of the best blowjobs of my life.”

You shake your head at him but take the compliment anyway, a smile plastered to your face.

You lie like that for a while, staring at each other in comfortable silence. Eddie loses himself in your gentle eyes, all the feelings he’s harboured since highschool threatening to spill once again.

He keeps them to himself though, not wanting to ruin the moment and knowing that wasn’t what this was about. This was just about helping out a friend, so she could be more confident. So she can finally show everyone else the amazing person he’s always seen.

He watches as your face seems to fall slightly, it’s a subtle change but he picks it up either way.

“Hey,” he coos, “you still with me?”

“Y-yeah, im fine,” you insist. He doesn’t buy it.

He gives you the look he always does when he sees straight through your lies, you know there’s no point hiding it.

“I, um, I don’t know if I wanna be alone tonight,” you whisper.

You hadn’t noticed the shower had stopped until you hear Steve walk into the room, beating Eddies to reply to you.

“Duh, of course we’re staying,” he answers. You look up at him in the doorway, drying his hair with a towel and you notice the green and white plaid pjs hanging low on his hips and soft cotton shirt tight against his chest.

“You’re staying?” you exclaim excitedly.

“Of course,” Eddie chuckles, “Great sex always needs great aftercare little one.” He plants a sloppy smack of a kiss to your forehead before going for his turn in the shower.

Steve flops down next to you on his stomach as you roll onto your back, looking up at his damp face and hair.

“You have fun?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“So much fun,” you confirm with a smile.

“I think I died and went to heaven when you and Eddie were sucking me off together,” he laughs and you giggle at his dramatics, he’s definitely been spending too much time with Eddie.

After your laughter has died down he looks at you seriously, tone softening “hey, I’m glad you trusted us enough to do this.”

“Me too,” you reply, soft tone matching his own.

“And I know eds is glad too,” he continues, you can tell there’s something deeper behind that statement but you’re too tired and blissed out right now to care.

“I hope so,” is all you reply instead.

Eddie comes back into the room in his own black pj pants and worn band shirt, letting you know the shower is all yours.

You grab some pjs out of your drawers before having the quickest shower of your life, scared that you’ll take too long and by the time you get out they’ll be gone. This whole evening some sick hallucination your brain made up.

After you’re dried and dressed you practically run to the room, heart swelling when you see the two men tucked into your bed, facing each other as they whisper softly, Steve on the side closest to your door. They’ve turned off all the lights bar your bedside lamp and have cleaned up all the stray pieces of clothing, all now in a pile at the corner of your room next to their bags.

At hearing you enter the room Steve rolls on to his back, arm outstretched to you. You take his hand and he helps you climb over him and into the middle of both of them. They mumble hey pretty girl and hey honey and you snuggle up between the two.

Eddie pulls you on to his chest as Steve snakes an arm around your waist, cuddling up to your back. You’ve all shared a bed together many times before but this time feels different, more intimate. You slowly drift off into a peaceful sleep to the sounds of Eddie’s heartbeat and Steve’s steady breathing.

Tag List: @andvys @pxrxcxa @wroteclassicaly @eddiemunsonfuxks @usedtobecooler @translatemunson @glorykaterina @bandofoxxking @littledemondani @hellfirebabes @eveatethefruit

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portraitofalinkonfyre · 11 days

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I saw you take requests? Would it be alright to ask for Four?? I‘m thinking either something similar to the heat cycle you did with Hyrule, but with the minish instead of fae? Or maybe a fivesome with the colours?? If none of those spark inspiration, it‘s alright if you do something else, tho!

Okay, this is such a brilliant request because DAMN, I completely forgot Four was part minish, so this'll be fun!

Update after 5 hours of writing: yeah, so this is going to be a small-form fic. I'll put the first chapter here and have the other ones ready in separate posts. I can't thank you enough for this request, It's utterly amazing :)

Burning Love

Pairing: Four x Reader

Warning(s): None for this chapter, but the theme of this story is explicit (which means I'll tag all chapters as smut), so please don't read unless you are 18+!

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

Four was not okay.

He had woken to a perfect, cloudless day--with just enough of a breeze to make the approaching summer heat tolerable--with the appalling urge to do... absolutely nothing!

Four liked to think he was one of the more responsible Links in the chain, not that he would ever say it, so it was starting when he awoke, groaning, and immediately rolled back over to sleep. It didn't help that Wind chose that exact moment to yell some ineligible sentence to him, fraying Four's already frazzled nerves. Hylia, if he hadn't been so damn tired, he might have given the Sailor a piece of his mind about common decency.

"Four!" the hero of the seas tried again--t wasn't like Wind to be this loud, Four thought disgruntledly, sealing his hands over his aching ears–while following with a significantly quieter: "Why isn't he up yet?"

"Leave me alone," Four hissed into his bedroll without any real heat. Speaking of heat, when had it gotten so damn hot? He could have sworn the temperature was at least a few degrees cooler when he woke up.

There was more concerned whispering as the other heroes began to take notice of his predicament, Twilight and Warriors looking especially perturbed. Four buried his face in the bedroll when Time cocked an eyebrow in his direction, beginning his heavy approach. Four could feel the exact moment Time sidled up to him, swatting lightly at the hand that fell upon his head. "Four? Are you alright?"

"Mmmph," was Four's eloquent response, only replaced by a surprised gasp when Time's fingers caught his hair in a stern grip, pulling his face up. "What–"

Time placed his free hand on the smaller hero's forehead. "You feel warm," he stated plainly.

"Who feels warm?" A new voice joined the fray and Four wanted to scream. It was you, because of course it was, already dressed in your adventuring clothes, hair slightly damn from what he assumed had been a recent bath in the nearby river. Your eyes narrowed in concern as you took in the sight before you. "Oh no, is he sick?"

"Very well could be," Legend answered, pinning Four with a gaze that had him gritting his teeth. "No offense, but you look terrible."

"Everything you say is an offense," Four muttered, hissing when Time gently smacked him upside the head with a quiet 'behave yourself'.

Four stilled when you approached, laying a cool hand on his burning forehead, eliciting an actual shiver from him. "You've definitely got a fever," you stood, clicking your tongue in sympathy and cocking a delicious hip. "Don't worry, I've got some herbs in my pack with your name on them!" and you were gone from his sight, presumably to rife through your medicine bag,

Dumbstruck, Four lay prone, baffled by the reaction his body had from a simple touch. Maybe there was something wrong with him, because there was no reasonable expiation to the spikes of heat coursing through his veins. The voices typically bouncing raucously around his head were eerily quiet... until you returned with a wooden cup full of sloshing green liquid. It was almost embarrassing how quickly his mouth opened when you came within reach, offering the drink. Four downed it without a second thought, only pausing to take cough when the bitter flavor invaded his mouth.

"Gross, isn't it?" he could have died when you patted his back comfortingly, retrieving the now empty cup. "I appreciate the lack of fight," you joked, sending a short glance to Wind and Legend, who immediately began to defend their honor.

"H-Hey, it's not my fault you make it taste disgusting!"

"But (Y/nnnnnnn)–"

"Butts are for sitting," you interjected, turning your head in Time's direction. "Is there a town nearby we can take him to?"

The oldest hero put a hand on his chin, humming lowly. "Castle Town is a day's walk from here, if we start in an hour, we should be able to make it by sundown."

You nodded, patting Four one last time before rising to your full height, casting a shadow over grounded hero. it was almost embarrassing how quickly his eyes snapped to your strong legs, traveling up to scope out your frankly enchanting hips, which would be perfect for carrying his children–

Smack!

You jumped when Four slammed his head back down on the bedroll, already bending down to examine the fallen hero. "What in the–"

–Only to be pulled back by a slightly-scowling Twilight. "Is there anything else we can get for a fever?"

"I–" you glanced at Four, then the hand wrapped around your wrist, with a worried expression. "I saw some willow trees a few minutes from here."

"I'll get it with you," said Hyrule, who had been on the outskirts of the concerned circle formed around Four's bedroll. While his magic could heal physical ailments, it wasn't nearly as effective with colds and infections–that was why they had you, a retired field medic from Warrior's Hyrule that had fallen through a similar portal a few months ago.

"Alright," you gestured for Hyrule to follow you as soon as Twilight released his grip. As the two of your retreated into the grove, Four allowed himself to relax, mind still spinning with thoughts unknown to even him.

Camp was packed by the time you and Hyrule returned, burdened with nearly a pound of willow bark between the two of you. You found yourself immediately searching for Four, because, while you would never admit it out loud, Legend's assessment of the shorter hero's physical state was quite accurate. You'd known something was amiss as soon as you glimpsed the heady flush practically overtaking his face, not to mention the distinct blurriness of his pupils, which had blown considerably as your interaction progressed.

It wasn't like Four to be so... uncoordinated, and you were genuinely worried that there was more going on than met the eye. You'd seen more than your fair share of sickness and death, so you were going to be damned if you let one of your dearest friends suffer the same fate as those unlucky souls during the war.

Your heart jumped when you found him sitting atop Epona, arms wrapped loosely around her sturdy neck, eyes closed and hairband half-heartedly tied to his forehead. Twilight stood close by, reins in one hand while the other cheerfully waved you over. You approached quickly, already fiddling with the willow bark in your satchel. "How is he?"

"He'll be fine," the rancher grunted, "Hylia knows we have our own troubles ta' work through."

You nodded slowly. "I wish I knew how this could have happened... and it's strange that no one else is feeling unwell."

Twilight sighed, laying a hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry your head about it, darlin'. He'll find ya in time."

"Thanks, Twi," you smiled softly. "I needed that."

A grin broke through his unusually stoic expression. "Anytime, darl', ya know we're here for you."

"Same here," you peeked over his shoulder to study a snoozing Four. "Do you think it was those mushrooms from two nights ago, those were nasty."

Twilight hummed. "I ain't sure about that, Wolfie wouldn't have brought it if 'e didn't think it was safe."

You tapped your chin. "True, but what if it only affects Hylians, like those berries Wild tried to eat back in Legend's Hyrule?"

A short left Twilight's mouth at the memory of a berry-drunk Wild declaring war on bananas, he rocked back against Epona's shoulder, causing the horse to nicker softly and bump her nose against his chest. "Ya could be on to something, but he ain't drunk."

"Obviously," you rolled your eyes before finding yourself studying Four once more. "I'll take your word for it, though. Hyrule and I got enough willow to last anyone through a lifetime."

"Atta girl," Twilight clapped your shoulder, and you laughed together, only stopping when Warrior's called your name from the other side of camp. "Don't worry, I'll take care'a him."

You tipped an invisible hat. "You're the best, Twi!"

You turned on your heel to see what madness Wars had gotten himself into, not noticing Four's narrowed glare from atop Epona, irises swirling in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color.

The journey to Castle Town was a long one. You walked with Warriors and Hyrule, just before Twilight and Four in case one of them needed something. The only stops made were for Epona or the bathroom, which you had no complaints toward; your friend was sick and you knew bedrest was the best cure was illnesses like his.

"You don't think it's contagious, do you?" Warriors asked between chews of the lynel jerky Wild blessed everyone with a few minutes ago.

"I don't think so..." you trailed off, taking a bite of your own jerky. "Someone would have already gotten sick if it was."

"I agree," Hyrule joined in, tone strangely knowing. The traveller caught your curious gaze, quickly amending: "...That doesn't make it any less worrying."

...Why did you feel like he knew something? Hyrule was a healer, so you wouldn't be surprised, but it was strange that he wasn't coming forth about it. "I'm especially worried about the fever, it means he's fighting something."

"You think?"

"I do," you hummed, resisting the urge to look behind you. "I asked Twilight if it was those mushrooms, but he's not sure."

Warrior blanched with a muttered: "Don't remind me..."

You and Hyrule chuckled simultaneously, just as Wind chimed: "those were gross!" from the front.

The sky was high in the sky by the time you came across a raging river, the only thing across it being a rickety bridge that had even you cringing.

"Just look at that," Hyrule whispered to you and Warriors. "I've seen better bridges built by children."

Time stopped just before the first plank, holding up an armored hand, just as Legend interjected, eyes narrowed in disgust at the 'architecture', if it could even be called that.

"We are not crossing that."

"I didn't say we were," Time replied evenly. "There is another bridge to the south, but it will take an additional few hours to reach."

"Wait," all eyes turned to you. "Will we still be able to get to town in time?"

"No," Time said slowly. "There's a gorge near the town that can't be crossed in the dark."

Well, that wouldn't do. You gestured to the bridge. "Can we cross it if we go once at a time?"

Time's expression turned contemplative... until a small smile broke through the fog and you knew you were on to something. "I believe we've found ourselves a solution."

Get read for some slow burn, y'all.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #lu four x reader #Twilight and Hyrule know EVERYTHING #the chain x reader #loz fanfic #loz #loz smut #smut #link x reader smut #link x reader

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honey-on-your-tongue · 1 year

Note

can you do a jake x reader smut where we have a huge argument and hes js so mad that he js fucks the anger out of the both of us? idk what else to say that js sounds hot as shit

😩😩😩😩😩😩

Sex as a solution to arguments? Yes please.

(irl it's not tho, babes. Keep that in mind 🙃)

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He's never back this late. He's never this late. Something must've happened. Something's wrong...

You chew on your nails as you pace your tent, heart racing, your thoughts eating away at you.

Where is he?

This isn't the first time Jake has gone on patrol at night. And it's the first time he's not back when he's supposed to be. But he's over two hours late...what could have possibly happened?

You're aching to hop on your ikran and find him, but you know the rules. You can't go out, you have to wait for him to come back.

It feels like years have passed by the time he finally shows up.

“Jake!” you gasp as he walks into your tent. You look him over, ensuring he's unhurt, finding a few bruises and a few scratches, but nothing major. “What happened?”

He gives you a sheepish look. “I, uh...Tsu'tey and I kinda got caught up 'cause we were chasing these palulukan off, and it sorta led us astray so it took a while to get back.”

You exhale sharply. “Again? You know your job isn't to mess around with the forest creatures, Jake. You're supposed to just keep a lookout for the Sky People.”

He shrugs slightly. “Well, yeah, but it's also fun sometimes.”

You can feel anger spark within you. “Fun?” you echo, crossing your arms. “I've been sitting here worried for the past two hours! And you're out having fun?”

He sighs softly. “I didn't mean to make you worry, I just—”

You scoff, cutting him off. “You never mean to make me worry. You always say so, and yet you keep doing it over and over again!” you snap.

“Hey, I've the right to go out there and have some fun. There's nothing wrong with that,” he replies, raising his voice. His amber eyes flash with frustration, his tail swishing uneasily.

“Maybe you could keep in mind the fact that I'm here waiting for you!” you yell back. “You're so self-centered, only thinking about having fun while I'm here wondering whether you're even fucking alive!”

He sighs. “You think it's intentional? That I leave you here to scare you?”

“I'm not saying that. I'm just saying you could be a little more mindful about me and maybe at least tell me beforehand that you're going to be late because you're going to be messing around with the forest creatures.”

“So now I have to report my every move to you?” he scoffs. “You want me to inform you of everything I fucking do?”

You exclaim, “That's not what I fucking mean and you know it. I'm just saying that it's not fair for you to leave me here, waiting for you without you telling me you might be late.”

“Even if I fucking told you, you'd make a big deal about it,” he snaps. “If I'm back late, you're upset. If I got distracted during patrol, you get upset. And apparently, if I don't tell you everything I'm going to do, you get upset.”

You exhale sharply. “You make it sound like I'm controlling you when you damn well know I'm worried for you.”

“Maybe you shouldn't worry. I think I'm old enough to take care of myself.”

“I'm just trying to help you!” you yell.

“Maybe you're only a burden instead of help!” he yells back.

You laugh bitterly. “That's it, then. You don't need me for anything else than to cook and have dinner waiting when you come home.” You sneer, but tears of anger and pain are welling in your eyes. “I see how it is, then.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Don't you dare get that way with me, you know you're more than that.”

“How should I fucking believe you?” you yell. “All you have to show for how you feel are your empty words!”

“Just my empty words?” he scoffs. “I'm making sure this village is safe—that you're safe, and you complain?”

“Complain?!” you snap. “I'm worrying about you and you're being the ungrateful ass that you are!”

“I am not ungrateful, I just don't understand why you're so upset about this! It's my life, I don't have to keep you updated about everything, you know. I can take care of myself.”

You throw him a deadly glare. “I guess you'll always be human in that way, then. Because us Na'vi actually take care of one another.”

And that's it. The final straw for him. He loses it, anger flashing in his eyes as he grabs you by the throat and pulls you to him, roughly pressing his lips to yours.

“You—!” you exclaim, pushing him off you. He doesn't get to treat you that way and kiss it all away.

But he's stronger than you. He grabs you tight, holding you close, his lips forcing yours open and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

You gasp softly, hating how much you're enjoying this, wishing you had the willpower to move away. But you don't.

One of his hands starts going south, tracing over your torso, down your abdomen, to your pussy. He touches you through your loincloth, fingers pressing against your clit through the thin fabric.

You feel what he's doing and a semblance of sense pops back into your head. He can't treat me like that and fuck me and expect me to forgive him.

You bite his lip, making him grunt softly, but he holds you close, kissing you even though the taste of his blood invades your tongue.

He tugs you to him, holding onto your hip, his other hand undoing your loincloth before caressing your cunt, spreading your folds and touching you just the way he knows will make you wet.

You try not to, hope it doesn't get to you, but you find yourself whining, nails digging into his skin. “Jake—”

He shuts you up with another kiss before leading you to the ground. You're pissed, you want to keep fucking yelling and crying and making him angry. Instead, you let him. You let him take you to the floor, let him undress you, and in turn, you tug his loincloth off.

He chuckles darkly when he realizes that you're as eager as he is.

He runs the thick head of his cock between your folds, gathering the wetness at your entrance before sliding into you.

You whine softly, pussy throbbing around his long, thick cock.

“There you go,” Jake groans when his hips meet yours. “Oh, fuck.”

You grab onto his shoulders and he gives no warning as he starts rutting into you, the tip of his cock bruising your delicate cervix, each thrust knocking the breath from your lungs.

“Asshole,” you seethe between heavy breaths and little whimpers. “You're an asshole.”

“Shut up,” Jake says, pressing his lips to yours, kissing you like he's starving, like he's trying to tell you everything without saying a word.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your eyes fluttering shut, your body trembling as he fucks you.

You kiss Jake back with everything you have, all the anger, all the fear, all the love—all of it. You pour it onto his lips, your sharp canines dragging over his tongue when it slides inside your mouth, and he shudders softly.

He groans lowly as he breaks the kiss, moving his mouth to your neck. You mewl as he increases his pace, making your legs jerk with each hard thrust.

He bites on the skin of your neck, sucking on it, and you gasp. You already know the hickey you're going to have in the morning.

“This what you fuckin' needed, hm?” he says, biting you again. “You just needed me to teach you some fucking manners.”

You sink your nails into his back, making him grunt. “Stop fucking talking,” you seethe, your voice a mere whine as he continues to rut into you.

The sound of your soaked pussy is loud in your tent, the slap of Jake's hips against yours making you blush with the obscenity of it all.

Jake bites down on your shoulder, hard, and you fold your ears back, hissing softly. But the pain only adds to the pleasure. It makes you gasp and tremble, a heat spreading in your womb as he keeps fucking you.

You want to complain. You want to bite him and punch him and kiss him and tell him you love him. He's so infuriating, so fucking annoying. You hate that you can never stay angry at him, hate that he always finds the way to get your heart to soften for him. You wish you were immune to his charms, but it's damn near impossible for you.

You tangle your hands in his hair and pull, drawing his face to yours so you can kiss his lips. You feel him grin slightly as you do, his soft lips smirking into the kiss as you moan.

The pleasure within you is spreading, reaching across your skin like vines, taking root and making you see stars behind your eyelids.

You begin bucking your hips up, gasping as you feel yourself closer to the edge. You try to match Jake's pace, but he's going too hard for you to keep up. Besides, he's already fucked you half dumb, there's not much you can do but take it.

Jake can tell when you're going to come. He can feel the way your pussy grows tight around him, sucking him in, making it harder for him to fuck you. Still, he keeps going, relishing in the sensation of your slick dropping down his balls. He grunts with each thrust, ensuring he fucks you as deep as he can and in return, he receives your little whimpers and moans. He watches your face as your eyes roll into the back of your head, and he knows you're right there.

And still, the stubborn little thing you are, you bite your lip, trying to keep quiet as you come, but Jake fucks you harder, forcing you to let out a gasp followed by a loud moan that has his own orgasm nearing.

He continues to rut into you, again and again, groaning and gasping until he comes. His load fills you, making you shiver, and he's left caging you under him, your body trembling.

He pulls out of you, leaning on his knees to see the way his cum drips out of your swollen, raw pussy.

His eyes scan up your body until he meets your gaze, and something within him softens.

He crawls beside you, laying down at your side and spooning you. You cross your arms, obviously still upset, and he presses a few soft kisses on your shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” he tells you, his voice quiet and gentle. “I'm sorry. You're right, you're only worrying about me, and I'm being an asshole. I didn't mean to scare you, baby. I never do. Sometimes I just get carried away by the excitement when we're out in the field. But I promise it won't happen again. Truly.” He kisses the side of your neck, one of his hands caressing your hip. “I'm sorry, baby. I'm truly sorry. I'll let you know beforehand when I plan on taking a little longer out during patrol.” He kisses your cheek gently. “I love you. So much. And I don't want you to think that all I need you for is to take care of the house. You know you're everything to me. You're my sun and my moon and my stars. You're everything. Without you, I'd be empty. You know that. Please, baby, don't ever think that you're nothing but an asset to me. Because you're not. You're my woman, my wife, my baby. You're everything to me, love. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

You turn around to face him, your eyes softened.

“Do you forgive me?” he asks softly.

You smile gently at him. “You're forgiven,” you say.

Relieved, Jake leans towards you and places a soft kiss to your lips. He doesn't know what he'd ever do without you.

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@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie @crazy4books1

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Blog masterlist

#inbox <3 #avatar jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar smut #jake sully smut #jake sully

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writingwhimsey · 6 months

Note

Hello. For the whimsy event I would like to request Motonari and “I know I should care about the reason why you’re naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment" (there was also a prompt of "I want to ruin you" so if that could be used to it'd be great.) The spiciest level of spice please. Thank you so much.

Hello dear anon! And thank you for requesting my number one husband! Oh these were the perfect prompts for this rotten pirate! Got it nice and spicy...but also some plot in here (I can't seem to do porn without plot hehe). So this got a little long (just under 2500 words). Hope you and everyone else enjoys it!

Smut is In The Air Event

Suitor: ikesen Motonari

Prompt(s): "I know I should care about the reason why you're naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment." and "I want to ruin you."

NSFW, 18+ content below

Bare

Motonari’s crew had spent the evening celebrating on deck. Motonari had just scored a new deal and they’d just loaded up with a new alcohol to bring back home for trade…as well as what Motonari allowed them to keep for themselves.

None of this was new to Motonari. His crew was always looking for an excuse to celebrate something. Always looking for an excuse to drink. What had surprised him was when his captive princess had joined in on their merry-making. Though she was such a light weight, she didn’t last long.

Motonari had then shooed her off to her cabin, not wanting anyone in his crew to potentially take advantage of her. He’d also made sure they knew to keep away from her or he would kill them. He told himself it was just because no one wanted to pay for a damaged hostage. It had nothing to do with the fact that he didn’t have a problem touching her. It didn’t have anything to do with the way her smile made his heart race or the way she had looked the other day when he’d caught her changing…

After having his fill of dealing with his crew and their drunkness, Motonari decided to retire for the evening. Going by the princess’s cabin to check on her first. He told himself it was just to make sure his hostage was still alive…still useful. It had nothing to do with the ache in his gut and the little voice in the back of his mind telling him she could be hurt.

Motonari opened the door to her cabin and walked in, but there was no sign of the princess. The room showed no signs of being touched. He felt like he was going to be sick as panic shot threw him. His skin prickled in that unpleasant way he usually felt when someone tried to touch him…but even worse.

Motonari bolted from the room and began searching his ship for her. Thinking she had fallen somewhere or gone to the wrong room. He didn’t hear any splashing, so he was sure she hadn’t fallen through an open porthole. He had searched the entire ship before heading to his own room. “Surely she didn’t…” He muttered to himself as he walked to his cabin.

He opened his door and walked in, finding the lantern lit and the princess lying asleep in his bed…her clothes were on the floor. He blinked as he looked at her naked form lying atop his bed. She looked gorgeous in the candlelight. He grinned to himself as he walked towards her, all sorts of thoughts running through his head…but instead of acting on any of those more…steamy thoughts he took the sheet and covered her up. Then he walked over to sit at the table and wait for the princess to wake.

She rested peacefully for the most part. Though she did start mumbling in her sleep at one point. Motonari couldn’t make much of it out until she muttered these words, “Motonari…hmmm… please…I want…you…take me…now…”

Motonari felt every nerve ending in his body come to life in the most pleasant of ways. “That how it is…” He muttered, grinning to himself, even as his pants began to feel even tighter than usual. He just had to wait till she woke up…

The next morning…

I awoke to the pleasant sound of the ocean outside the ship and sunlight streaming in. I wasn’t quite ready to wake up. I had done some drinking last night with Motonari’s crew… it didn’t take me long to get drunk, but thankfully because I didn’t actually drink a lot, I didn’t have such a nasty hangover…but I still wasn’t quite ready to join the waking world. Or at least that was the case until I heard a familiar voice.

“I know I should care about the reason why you’re naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment.”

My eyes snapped open and I shot up in bed. I was about to say something that just because I was in a cabin on his ship didn’t mean it was his bed…but that was when I took in my surroundings. I was in Motonari’s room. I then looked down and saw that I was indeed naked.

I quickly picked up the sheet, my face red as I pulled it up to my chest. “What did you…”

“Not a damn thing, flower girl.” Motonari replied before I could finish my question. He was sitting at the table that he kept in his room, just across from the bed.

I started to look around the room and that’s when I noticed my kimono neatly folded and sitting on the table in front of him. “How did…”

“I came in here and ya was passed out naked in my bed.” Motonari answered. “Yer clothes were on the floor. I picked ‘em up ‘cuz I don’t like no mess in my room.”

“Would you mind giving me my clothes?” I asked. “And then at least turning around and letting me get dressed?”

Motonari grinned at me. “Ya really that worried? I already saw everything when I walked in.” He replied. “‘Sides I like my seat right here. Last I checked yer legs ain’t broken. Come get yer clothes yerself.”

I glared at him, but slowly got up from the bed, taking the sheet with me to keep myself covered. I walked over to grab my kimono off the table, and just as I did, Motonari grabbed me. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in his lap, his face mere centimeters from mine…his rather handsome face.

Motonari’s ruby red eyes looked into mine…a burning fire in them as his arms held me fast. “When a man finds a beautiful woman naked in his bed…puts all kind o’ funny thoughts in his head.” He told me.

I felt my heartrate picking up and unable to tear my gaze away from his. I had tried many times to remind myself that this man was the enemy of my friends in the Oda forces…I tried reminding myself of that right now…so that made him my enemy…or at least it should…but I still found myself attracted to him. And then to hear him call me beautiful…

“What…kind of thoughts?” I found myself asking, my voice coming out more breathless than I intended.

Motonari ran a gloved hand up the bare skin of my back, causing me to shiver delightfully. “I want to ruin you.” He answered.

I gulped. Motonari had said many crude things to me before and crowded me. But that had been an act to keep distance between us. Right now…he was completely serious. “Then..ruin me.” I found myself saying.

Motonari grinned and the next thing I knew, we were up and moving…and then I was lying back on the bed. “You ain’t gonna need this anymore then.” Motonari said as he pulled the sheet from my body, his ruby eyes taking in my naked form before his lips were on mine as he climbed atop me.

I gasped into the kiss when I felt his gloved hands run over my body. Everywhere his hand went, left trails of fire across my skin. I broke the kiss to look up at him.

“What? Ya ain’t changin’ yer mind?” He asked.

I shook my head. “No…I just don’t think it’s fair that I’m the only one getting naked here.” I replied. “I wanna see you, too.”

“I always knew you had a dirty mind, m’lady.” He replied before sitting up, still straddling me. He then removed his shirt before leaning back down over me. “Now, where were we?”

“Hey, I said naked.” I replied, tugging at his pants.

Motonari grinned as he reached his gloved hand up to caress my cheek. “Yer an eager one, aren’t ya.” He teased. “We ain’t there yet.” He was then capturing my lips once again, our kiss quickly growing heated.

His tongue prodded at my lips and I gladly parted them for him. His tongue mapped the inside of my mouth even as I met it with my own. Almost hesitantly, I wrapped my arms around Motonari, pressing myself closer. I felt him shiver, but he continued on. He let out a groan as he ground his hips against mine and I could feel his desire growing.

He broke the kiss to look at me. “Keep…touchin’...” He said. “I like it…when you do.” He took one of my hands in his still gloved hand and brought it to his chest, allowing me to feel the warmth of his skin and the rapid beating of his heart.

I reveled for a moment in the feeling of touching him, of feeling his heart beating so rapidly and because of me. Then I slowly trailed my hand down the front of his body, tracing over every line of his hardened musculature. “You’re even sexier than I imagined.” I said.

Motonari grinned. “So, you been imaginin’ me naked?” He asked.

I felt my cheeks redden at my admission, but nodded. “Like you haven’t been imagining me naked.”

“Just nice ta know it’s mutual.” Motonari replied.

I reached his abs and began to trace over each one with my fingertips before following the V that slowly dipped into his pants. Motonari let out a groan. “Damn…”

“You know…this touching thing is mutual too.” I said. “I like it when you touch me…and I think I’d like it if you REALLY touched me.”

“What’d’ya mean…” He asked, still groaning under my touch, his skin growing flushed and heated.

“Your gloves…take them off and feel me with your hands.” I answered.

Motonari seemed stunned for a moment, but then grinned at me as he lifted his hands to remove his gloves. “Fine by me.” He said, tossing the white gloves aside before bringing his hand to cup my face, his touch so incredibly gentle. “You do feel good.” His lips were on mine once again before trailing down the side of my neck.

Motonari’s hands began to roam over my body. I let out a moan when his hand reached my breast. I gasped when I felt his thumb begin to rub circles around my nipple before giving it a light pinch…and then moving to the other breast to do the same.

Motonari’s lips soon followed his hands and I was left moaning once again as his warm lips enclosed one of my nipples. He nipped with his teeth and then ran his tongue soothingly over the hardened peak. His hand slipped lower and I soon felt his fingers toying with my sensitive bud.

“Ah…Motonari!” I moaned and bucked my hips, trying to press myself further into his hand.

Motonari pulled his head from my breast to look up at me, a devilish grin on his face. “Ya like that, don’t ya princess?” He was then moving his fingers, sliding two into my slick entrance and he set his thumb against my clit. “Yer so wet and I’ve barely done anything…”

My hips bucked once again. “Ah…yes…yes…” Though it wasn’t quite enough. I wanted more. I ached to be filled in a better way. My hips continued to buck, trying to chase my release, but still not quite reaching it. “Moto…nari…” I was then reaching my own hands forward, palming at the hard lump forming in his pants.

Motonari groaned. “Ya keep that up…and I ain’t gonna be able ta play nice much longer.” He growled.

“I…don’t want…nice.” I said, breathless. “You did say…you wanted to ruin me…ruin me pirate boy.”

Motonari’s eyes widened for a moment but then was removing his hand from me. “If that’s what ya want.” He said, quickly removing his pants and then prying my legs apart, positioning himself between them and looming over me. “Ya better hang on.”

I happily wrapped my arms around his neck and lifted my hips, offering myself to him. “Take me, Motonari.”

Motonari’s lips descended upon mine and his tongue delved into my mouth the same time I felt him enter me in one swift stroke. I moaned into the kiss with how full he made me feel. He soon began powerfully thrusting in and out of me, hitting so deeply.

I broke the kiss to moan. “Oh…Motonari…fuck yes…”

Motonari let out a groan of my name as he continued his thrusts. He couldn’t stop moving his hands and lips over my flesh even as he pounded me into the mattress. I could feel that white hot heat building up inside of me and soon it burst.

“Motonari!” I cried out as my release barreled through me, my walls clenching tightly around him.

Motonari groaned my name into my ear as my release pulled him into his own and his seed spilled inside me. “Fuck…yer…amazin’...” He told me between panting breaths as we both descended from our pleasure high.

“So…are…you…” I replied.

Motonari kissed me forehead, the tip of my nose, and then my lips, before pulling back to look at me. “Hope ya know, I ain’t done yet.” He was then moving his hips against mine, reminding me that we were still connected…and he was already hard again.

I grinned up at him and bucked my own hips against his. “I think, I can keep up.”

His lips were on mine once again as we gave into our passion once more.

Up on deck…

“Hiroyoshi, I ain’t seen the cap’n all mornin’.” One of the crew members addressed the old man.

“I ain’t seen ‘im since he went down ta his room, last night.” Another crewmate said.

“It’s definitely not usual for him.” Hiroyoshi agreed. Motonari knew his crew was capable, but he still liked to see to everything. “I’ll go check on him.”

“I’ll come with ya.”

Hiroyoshi and one of the crewmates were heading below deck. They started to walk towards the captain’s quarters when they heard a creaking sound coming from inside and a lewd slapping sound.

“Motonari…harder!” The princess’s voice could be heard.

“Yer…awful demanding, princess…but if that’s what ya want…then here…” There was a grunt and another cry from the princess.

Hiroyoshi and the crewmate looked at each other before doing an about face and heading back up on deck. Hiroyoshi, chuckling to himself as they went.

“Did you find the cap’n?” Another crewmate asked.

“He’s occupied at the moment.” Hiroyoshi answered.

“Yeah with the princess.” The other crewmate said, grinning.

It was then that everyone heard the princess crying out Motonari’s name. They all laughed before returning to their tasks…prepared to give their captain and the princess a hard time later…which would end up being a couple of days later.

#whimsey answers #whimsey event #smut is in the air #ikesen motonari #ikemen sengoku motonari #motonari mouri #ikemen motonari #otome motonari #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #otome boys #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #fanfic #ikemen series #fanfiction #cybird #smut #motonari smut

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litnerdwrites · 3 months

Text

Time for day two! Today, we're going to be visiting House Pride, with a piece that's pretty near and dear to my heart. So please, be nice, and enjoy. Let me know if you have requests for any character from this series. I think I'll try posting fics even after this week. I have a whole list of head cannons for Emilia x Wrath child too, if y'll want to read it. Let me know! @princeofsinweek

Day 2: Pride/Reflection and Ego

Shattered Reflection - Pride X Wife!Reader

WC:2,059

TW: Body dysmorphia, mention of self harm, blood, accidental cuts on shattered glass, anxiety, insecurity, mention of sex but no smut.

Index: 'Bella' means 'Beautiful' in Latin, Spanish and Italian. Used as nickname, and term of endearment.

The hurried clicking of heels echoed in the empty hallways, accompanied by the swathes of navy fabric Isabella wasn’t able to gather into her arms before she’d hurried back the way she came. With every step, the ringing in her ears grew louder, threatening to drown out the murmurs of courtiers and well practiced symphonies.

Too thick thighs.

Too big tummy.

Too big breasts.

The words ring in her head, resounding throughout her body. Each syllable is an ache in her heart, and a throb in her temples.

Isabella clutches at her chest, over the shimmering fabric of her bodice, and forces one foot in front of the other. She stumbles as the hallway leading to her room seems to rock with each step, and the sound of drums carrying from the ballroom, and echoing in her ear certainly don't help. Did the musicians playing tonight have drums? Or perhaps it’s her heart? She didn’t know, nor did she care at this moment.

She hacks out a cough, reaching out to grab something for support with her free hand as the floor seems to drift closer and closer. Isa vaguely registers the sound of something shattering, and a sticky residue on her hands.

She chokes on a sob, trying to stand, only to stumble again.

This time, when she collapses to the ground, pain shoots through her knees, as well as the uncomfortable sensation of something stuck in her skin. Pieces of a frame? A mirror? Perhaps a vase? She couldn't tell.

Her throat constricts, a shriek building, demanding to be set free. However, not wanting to draw attention, she forces herself to her feet, ignoring her pain, and begins moving back through the halls until she reaches a familiar hall. Changing her course last minute, Isabella turns from her room, entering one across the hall instead.

The voices continued ringing in her mind, chastising her.

The whole court can probably hear you stomping around up here. Have you considered dropping a few pounds?

Shut up.

If you did hit the training yard though, I bet you’d look so pathetic next to everyone else!

Shut up.

Are you sure you want to subject them to the sight of you? I mean, look at you.

Her eyes snap to the mirror beside her. In its reflection, she can see a portrait of her Prince, hanging just behind her. It didn’t do his angelic looks justice, nor did it quite convey that sinful smile he used to entice just about anyone to his bed.

Shut up.

She stepped closer to the mirror, glancing between the reflection of herself and the portrait. The ringing started getting louder, as her surroundings vanished and all that was left was the mirror.

See? Can you really stand beside him like this?

“But… He loves me,” she rasps, though it felt more like trying to herself than refute the thought.

It would be better for his standing as a Prince of Hell if you weren’t around to humiliate him. You should leave. Then you also won’t prevent him from finding Lucia. I bet she didn’t look like this. I’m sure she was slimmer with soft curves. Nothing like you. Too big in all the wrong places. You should disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear-

“SHUT-”

“Count,”

Her fist stops mere inches away from the mirror.

“Count,” it commanded again.

Everything was loud. The squeak of floorboards. The thoughts in her head. The swishing of her dress. All of it. All too loud, and all happening at once. How could she-

“Count,”

“P-Pride said m-my hair is always done up b-beauti-beautiful,” she stutters, voice choked and raspy from crying.

Had she been crying?

“P-Pride said my smile is con-contagious, and my lips are plu-ump, like strawberries,” she add, slowly falling to her knees before the mirror.

Her heart rate slowly eased, while her vision began clearing at the edges.

“Pride said h-he loves to- to grab my breasts when he’s stressed, lay his head on them when he’s tired, and kiss them when we have sex,” her voice became steadier with each word she spoke.

Still, she took deep breaths as more of the room came into focus, and she was able to recognise the navy walls, accented with silver, and ornate furniture that complimented the marble flooring.

“Pride said he likes my stomach because it’s cute, fun to kneed, a comfy pillow and he enjoys tickling it, even if it annoys me,” This time, Isa’s voice was completely even as she spoke.

“Can you really blame me for wanting to see that blinding smile whenever I please?”

She whips her head around, noticing the Prince in question leaning against the door frame. Isa can only watch him with wide eyes.

Pride’s eyes narrow on her, as he takes in her appearance. Shards of a mirror are stuck in her palms, both of which are still bleeding. There’s also blood seeping from a gash he can see on her on her knee, from where it peeks out from under her dress. Although, her face is probably the most heartbreaking sight that Pride’s ever seen. Bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks stare back at him, along with a runny nose and lips that are raw and red from where she bit and pulled at them.

It was a bad day for her. Pride could tell that much from the moment she wasn’t at the ballroom in time, but while being even the slightest bit late was odd for her, Pride didn’t begin to truly worry until he saw drops of blood and a shattered mirror in the hallway leading to their suite when he went to go find her.

He barely registered using transversa magic to get to his room before he found her crumpled in front of the mirror, a bloody hand pressed against it. He felt his namesake’s sin swelling in his chest as he heard her using the method he taught her to calm down. He’d remembered how bewildered she was the first time he’d told her to order her least favorite features from one to five, one being the least favorite. Confused, she had done as he asked. After that, Pride made her name one compliment, or thing he liked about the fifth feature on that list, two to the fourth, three to the third, and so on, so forth.

“You still need to do the last one, by the way,” he reminds, snapping her out of her daze.

“Oh, Pride loves squeezing my thighs, spreading my thighs, burying his face in my thighs, thinks my thighs are strong strong, and that there’s a perfect amount of them to bite,” Isa finishes.

“There’s a good girl,” Pride grins, walking over to pick her up from in front of the mirror. Caring little for the blood dripping everywhere, he deposited her right onto a comfy couch, knowing she’d lose it if he dumped her on the bed and she got blood on it, “Now stay put,”

Isa only nodded, letting Pride poke his head out of the room for a few minutes. He didn’t go far, and didn’t shut the door. Instead, he stood in the doorway, blocking anyone from seeing in, as he spoke to someone. Moments later, he took something from them, and came back in, shutting the door behind them. When he came back, there were bandages and ointments in his hands, all of which were ceremoniously dumped onto the floor when Pride dropped to his knee.

Gasping, Isabella tried to stand, only for a stern look to force her back down. Pride never kneeled. For anyone. The only time he’d ever knelt before her was less kneeling and more lying down, and it was just so he could feast on Isa. Now, however, his touches remained reverent as he pulled out the glass, before cleaning and bandaging each wound.

“Pride-”

“We’ll talk later, just- Just let me do this first,”

Isa could only nod.

When he was done, he carried her to the bed, before leaving and coming back with a simple, blue tunic. Pride had no intention of letting her do anything tonight, it seemed, as he pulled the gown from her body, not caring as the thin ties snapped at the back. After that, he pulled the tunic over her, and gently pushed her to lay on the bed. Moments later, he was climbing in with her, having taken off his formalwear, and coming back in loose trousers.

“Want to tell me what happened?” he asked, once they were both tucked into bed.

“It got bad,” she whispered, “Worse than before. I took one look at that ballroom, and suddenly, the thought of food made me want to hurl, and having to spend an evening with others looking at me all night, made me want to tear at my skin,”

“Has it ever gotten this bad before?” Pride asks.

“Once, but it was a while before I came here,” she assured him.

Pride rubs a thumb over her cheek, gentle and soothing.

“I’m so, so sorry, Bella,” he whispers.

Isa’s heart picks up its pace in her chest. Pride never apologizes either. Well, not to anyone but her anyway. It appears she’s been the exception to many rules, when it comes to Pride.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she responds, “I’m sorry I made you miss your party. I know how much you love them,”

“Don’t be. I love you more,” he soothes, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

“I have one more thing I need to ask, Bella,” he tells her, suddenly serious.

“Yes?”

“The glass shards. Did you do that on purpose?”

“No! No, of course not. I- On my way back up here, everything had overwhelmed me and I was so dizzy, I was reaching for anything to grab onto and I- I ended up grabbing the mirror, and…dropped it…” Isabella trails off sheepishly.

Pride examines her for a moment, his icy eyes carving deep into her flesh, before he finally relents.

“Alright, good. Please remember, that I don’t know what I’d do without you, my Bella,” he whispers, “So don’t you ever, ever, even consider it.”

“I’ll try not to,” she whispers, “But sometimes those voices just make too much sense to ignore,”

“Tell me what it will take to help you, my love. Do you want me to take you on my throne before our whole court, to let them, and you, know who holds whatever’s left of my heart? Is there a person in particular bothering you, that I need to feed to some foul beast somewhere? Do I need to kiss every inch of your flesh until your mind accepts my words as fact? Would you like me to shatter every mirror in my circle, so you can never rely on them to show you yourself again?” he asks desperately.

“I don’t know,” she whispers honestly.

“Then try to remember this; You are my wife. You are the first face I see in the morning, the last face I see every night, and the one face I could never be tired of. I love your belly, even if it’s bigger than others’. I love your thick thighs, and plump lips. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you find something you’re interested in. I love the way you squeal when you see something cute. I love the way your smile instantly improves my mood. I love everything about you, my sweet, beautiful Bella,” Pride whispers to each one with conviction, “Whatever you see in your reflection, pay it no heed. Only my view of you matters. Mine, and nobody elses,”

“Pride-”

His arms wrap around her, pulling her close to his chest.

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Whatever it takes, if it means I won’t lose you!”

Isabella relaxes in his hold, though her mind is still racing.

“Just- Just hold me. And help me remember why you love me. Why I love me,”

“Of course, my beautiful love,” Pride whispers, before he begins listing everything he’s ever loved about you off, one by one. From appearance to personality to memories. Pride leaves nothing out. By the time he’s done, you can barely keep your eyes open. Noticing this, Pride chuckles. “Sleep Bella,”

“Goodnight, Pride,”

“Goodnight, my love,”

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andimoon · 1 year

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@ye0liessunshine || HIII can I send a request with a chanyeol smut using prompts #14, #31 and #39 ? <<33

Hello lovely reader!! Thank you for your request! This one took me some time as this is my second time writing smut. It’s the filthiest thing I’ve ever written. 🫠 I hope you enjoy!! 18+

Word count: 3.8K

Warning: graphic smut, exhibitionism, mild hand fixations, Dom!Chanyeol, Bratty/Quiet reader, power plays.

Chanyeol x reader

FwB to Lovers, established relationship au.

Graphic smut

14.“There’s nothing wrong with getting a little dirty.”

31. “You’re making a scene.”

39. “Shut up, I’m trying to fuck you.”

Today had been a hard day, work was long and unnecessarily stressful, as it tended to be. The only thing that kept you going was the ideal of soaking in steamy soapy water with music playing around you and the scent of your favorite bath bombs. To get the grime of the day off of your skin and fully wash away any thought of work for the rest of the night. Maybe if you were lucky you’d be able to share a glass of wine with your new boyfriend. Or, if you were even more lucky, you’d get to feel his warm touch and spend the night in his embrace. The few days you’d gone without seeing him, without touching him, loving him, left you pent up and agitated. You suppose what they say about new relationships was true.

Your heels ached and you’d long ago removed the three inch abominations you were forced to wear every day, stumbling barefoot into your apartment. You dropped your bag, your keys, undoing the ridiculous hairstyle that had been pulling at one single strand of hair for hours. Your job was fine, you’d finally made it high enough on the corporate ladder to not have to worry about money, but the stress that came with your position was borderline unbearable. And that uniform killed you every single day. Your brain pounded. Only one thing kept you moving, one thing that prevented you from collapsing right then and there on the nearest surface; Bath. As it lured you in, you dropped everything, including your clothes in your path. You’ll pick them up after your muscles relaxed and your stresses melted away in that lovely lavender scent bomb you’d been saving away for a special occasion.

The moment you sank into the water was bliss, pro tip from a magazine you came across at work; always take a quick shower before getting into a bath with a bath bomb. You could feel the minerals seeping into your skin and willing your muscles and bones to relax.

It was like nothing else mattered as you reveled in the moment of pampering. And then a few consecutive chimes from your phone sitting on the closed toilet seat just within your grasp. You swore to god, if it was a text from work about something else needing to be redone, you were going to lose your fucking mind. With a few rough taps, your screen came to life and the two little hearts on the outsides of his name instantly calmed the storm inside you.

‘I’m outside your house. Are you home?’

‘I know I have the code and everything, but I want to see you.’

‘Are you home, baby?’

The texts came in ramped succession and the little chuckle that escaped you was involuntary. Your fingertips were still slightly slippery from the soapy water and you didn’t want to risk dropping your phone into it. That little device was what kept your head above the raging storm in the office. So instead, you dialed. Midway through the first ring, you heard his deep gravelly voice. “Baby? Did you see my text?” You could hear movement and rustling on the other side of the line, you hummed in response.

“Yeah, I’m home,” you adjusted and jammed your hip against the side of the tub, a small ached groan left your lips, “just come on up. I’m taking a bath right now, but we can have dinner together if you’re free.”

You heard the car door close on the line and his breath was slightly shaky as he walked, you assumed he parked in your garage as he usually did. “Alright, I’ll see you in a second and we can talk.”

Normally those words would bring an aura of anxiety within you, but his tone and the easiness in it soothed you. Not to mention the exhaustion in your bones. Chanyeol had been your boyfriend for a solid three months at this point, before that you were friends with benefits for almost a year. Yoel had a way of making you feel comfortable, even with his annoying pouts and tantrums, he was everything you needed, your other half, and you knew you could rely on him no matter what. Even when you were at the peak of your exhaustion and frustrations, even when you were picking a fight, he understood you, he accepted you and soothed you. And he was teaching you to be more honest and straightforward with your thoughts and emotions. Somewhere in your mind you knew it was meant to be, you were meant to find this man, and he was meant to be yours. Even when either of you fucked up, and you had plenty of times, the way you talked together came naturally and it was easy to come to an agreement. You loved it. And you knew you didn’t deserve him.

The front door chimed as he input the code, and the motion sensor sang a little welcome to the man. You could hear his footsteps but they lagged a little in their path to you, and when your boyfriend showed up in the doorway, you couldn’t help but bask in his glory. The suit he wore clung to his body perfectly, somehow accenting the thickness of his thighs and the broadness of his shoulders and his black locks looked heavenly the way they were brushed back atop his head. God how you missed him. You let out a teasing little whistle and he smirked in response, leaning against the doorframe and you could tell he was admiring your naked frame under the bubbles. Suddenly his hand lifted the collection of your clothing, the way he held it all in three fingers was both annoying and oddly satisfying somewhere deep inside you. “Hard day?”

“Too many things went wrong today,” your skin burned the longer you stared at each other and you leaned against the cool side of the tub, lifting your body a bit to give your lover a better view of your chest, “But I left that behind when I clocked out.” That was something Chanyeol had shown you to do. There’s no point in stressing over work when you’re not being paid for it. Your time off was for you. The little sound he made confirmed it. “Are you staying with me tonight?”

A few steps into the bathroom and he stood looming over you. It was hard to see his face from your angle but you admired the way the suit clung to his hips, the mouthwatering bulge, and the way the smooth fabric guided your eyes down the expanse of his luscious thighs and long legs. Suddenly feeling hyper aware of your complete lack of clothing. The air was heavy for a moment before he crouched in front of you, his eyes were dark and lustful as they met yours and the smirk on his lips left you dizzy, “Actually,” his voice was so much deeper and the rasp robbed you of any oxygen you might’ve had in your lungs, much to his amusement, “I want to take you out tonight. I’m meeting the guys for dinner at an event, we can bring guests.” You honestly didn’t really want to go, you had everything you wanted then and there, but you wanted to support him. He mentioned the event like it wasn’t that important but you knew he was proud of his work and there was something in his eyes that piqued your interest. The silence was challenging, and rare for Chanyeol. Your chest felt like it would cave under his gaze and you exhaled a heavy breath.

The water was no longer hot and your fingers had already started to shrivel so you pulled the drain and stood in all your naked, goosebumped glory. You could feel your skin tingle in the wake of his wandering stare and the little bob of his throat was unmistakable.

“Oh yeah? You’re taking me out tonight?” You were actively teasing him and the man’s face crumbled in an instant as he shuffled back and out of the bathroom, you chuckled and walked up to him, pressing a damp palm against his stomach in a spot far too low and you knew it would leave him reeling. You knew all his little buttons that had him begging to get between your legs. The little growl he released rattled in your chest.

That perfect pink tongue of his darted out to wet his lips and you were mesmerized by it for a moment. “I want to take you out,” he said a little weaker than last time, but you watched his face closely as he came to a conclusion in his mind and spoke with more conviction, “and I promise to take very good care of you for your troubles, little siren.”

So if you went out with him tonight, he’d fuck you the way you craved? That didn’t sound like a bad deal in your mind. “Okay,” you brushed past him to get ready, he was over dressed so you went to the fancier side of your closet to find something that would catch eyes. Your boyfriend had a way of becoming the center of attention and you knew if you didn’t dress the part you’d shatter under his spotlight, especially if he was dressed like that.

At some point he’d followed you to your bedroom, sitting on your bed with his legs spread just a little wider than usual. It was inviting. “That’s it? You do want to go, then.” He leaned his elbows on his knees and the amusement in his eyes left you wanting to do unspeakable things.

“I want to be with you.” You found a maxi dress at the back of your wardrobe and pulled it out. The gorgeous shades of dark greens left the gown looking ethereal, and the soft tulle off-the-shoulder sleeves were so comfortable. After a moment you stepped out of the small closet with the gown mostly on. “Help me with the zipper?” Yeol loved this gown almost as much as you did. You’d worn this dress on the first night you spent together. You recalled the way the tall slit drove him crazy, the way he had removed it from you so slowly, taking in every second in this very room. His sharp breath returned you to reality and he was suddenly right behind you. Hot fingertips brushed your hair to the side, feathering over the sensitive spot he loved to kiss. His touch was torturously slow, purposely lining a path down your spine all the way to the bottom of the opened zipper. It was so hard to breathe, how you wanted to crawl onto him and ride him until he gave into you.

Your lover went to get his car after the dress, and you got ready at lightning speed, makeup, check. Hair, check. Shoes, check. Purse, keys, wallet. Check, check, and check. You were surprised you made it out of the house at all with your body’s reaction to seeing Chanyeol. It had only been a few days for god’s sake. Being in such an enclosed space with him was dangerous. The seductive scent of his cologne and his natural musk, it was so hot in here, and your legs were trembling ever so slightly. It was hard to think about anything else but the fantasies playing behind your eyes. You couldn’t look at him as you talked and eventually, “Are you mad? Did you really not want to go out?”

“I’m not mad,” you responded in truth, reaching for his large hand resting on your thigh, your own looked so small in comparison. “You’re overwhelming,” your head lulled to look at him, the way his tie sat so perfectly on his chest. You imagined him using the fabric to tie your hands, or to cover your eyes, “You look so fucking good, and I’m so weak to you.” He risked a glance at you as he drove and this time you were openly ogling him, letting your eyes linger in all the spots you wanted to taste, to touch, to fuck.

That dark tone was back, “Oh yeah?” His tongue peeked out and he bit down on it. The memories of his eyes peeking up at you from between your legs flashed in your mind and you couldn’t help the little whimper that resonated from somewhere in your chest, you had to look away again. This time he laughed at your reaction. “So what I’m hearing is, that pretty little mind of yours is thinking about dirty things? And you can’t control yourself if you look?”

He talked too much, his words affected you too much. It was too hot and too hard to breathe and you simply hummed in response because god forbid you say something that digs you into a deeper hole. “That’s okay, baby,” he was speaking again, this time in a knowing tone that made you want to smack him, “We’ll just stay for a little while. Then we’ll go through all your little thoughts. How does that sound?”

He lied. You hadn’t stayed for a little while. Two hours later and you were still at this fucking event. Seeing Chanyeol at work while you were pent up and frustrated was a recipe for disaster. The whiplash from; look, little puppy chanyeolie, to Yes, Daddy. Whatever you say, Daddy. You wanted to pull your hair out. Why did you agree to this again? You kept drinking, champagne tasted like complete ass but it was readily available and would help you deal with the boiling in the pit of your stomach. Probably by your third glass a woman’s voice was calling over the intercom for everyone to take their seats for dinner. Chanyeol pulled you to sit next to him and you heard the inhale he took, “Are you drunk?”

“Oh now you see me?” The bitterness rang in your tone. He’d been so busy talking to other guests that he had hardly spoken more than two sentences to you since you arrived. That wasn’t really why you were upset, though. You knew he was working and you shouldn’t have snapped at him like that, but it would be too embarrassing to admit the real reason you were upset. You risked a glance at the rest of the table, the other couples were too busy with each other to even notice. “I tell you what you do to me and you ignore me during an event like this?” You pouted, and you knew it was childish. Maybe you were a little drunk, the words came out carelessly. Chanyeol replaced your drink with a glass of water before you could take another sip.

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” he responded as the lights dimmed and a large projector lit up with some kind of campaign, it looked familiar. Something he’d been producing for a short while, he rarely mentioned it. “You’re overwhelming.” A feeling of déjà vu.

He wanted you just as much, to say he’d been avoiding you would be a stretch, but now the lack of glances in your direction made more sense. He needed to control himself and wouldn’t be able to if his eyes touched yours. “Then why are we still here?” This time you spoke softer and leaned into your boyfriend a bit, pretending to be watching the campaign and he leaned his lips into your hair as he spoke.

“Because I want to show you off.” You felt the heat of his palm as it slowly ran down the side of your leg, you held your breath as his fingers slipped into the front slip of the gown, pulling your leg through and feathering touches against your inner thigh, inching upwards the same way he had done your first night. “You look so good when I touch you.” His voice was sultry, his hot breath filling every cell in your body. You were so thankful for the darkness and the tablecloth that hid Yeol’s adventurous hand.

“You’re going to get your hand dirty if you keep doing this, Yeolie. What if someone notices?” As much as you tried to hide it, your voice trembled with the warning.

“There’s nothing wrong with getting a little dirty.” He purred, “but if you’re really worried, you’ll clean up whatever mess you make.”

It happened so slowly, you could feel his nails prodding against you. The movement of soaked fabric and you felt how those long fingers entered you at a snail's pace, how they just kept going deeper and deeper and you nearly moaned. Your hands were so much smaller than Chanyeols, that was never more evident than when he had them inside you. They reached places you never could, pressing on the sensitive little buttons inside you and all you could think was how good it felt as his warmth radiated. Whatever was on the screen finished and the guests all clapped and roared, you jolted at the reminder of how public this place was. Chanyeol's fingers froze with his hand pressed firmly against you, two digits sitting inside you. And he lifted the table cover over both your laps as the lights came on. It was intoxicating. A stranger walked up onto the center stage to introduce another product, the lights dimmed once more so your boyfriend continued, slowly curling the digits inside you and pressing on that perfect spot. You wanted to scream and you were terrified to move, what if someone noticed? What if you got arrested for public indecency? But it felt so good, the risk left your adrenaline on edge.

The announcement showed but your vision blurred, the more he curled and wiggled inside you, the hotter you felt. Your dress was probably ruined, you could even hear the occasional faint squish that he quietly coughed over as naturally as possible. Every nerve in your body was on fire and you reached for his wrist under the cloth and he raised an eyebrow at you, seemingly unbothered. The moment your eyes touched his hand was moving again, pressing against all the right places. Your mind was foggy and you were in the verge of boiling over, it was hard to hold in your noises. You squeeze his wrist tightly as he pulled a whimper out of you, “Yeollie, not here.” Your voice was nearly gone, muffling the sounds in your throat. He froze and he snuck a glance at the other guests at the oversized table, luckily it was still mostly dark enough to hide your antics.

“You’re making a scene.” The words were like ice water to the face, and the amusement in his eyes embarrassed you further. You hid your face in his shoulder, “Good girl.” He hummed just for you, pressing a kiss against your temple as those fingertips slid right out of you, he slipped them into his mouth, sucking like you were as sweet as icing and your lips suddenly felt dry. The rest of the event was a blur. Chanyeol was by your side and you both excused yourselves early. You needed to get this man inside you as soon as humanly possible.

The little motion detector welcomed you and you heard the door click closed when you finally, finally, made it to your house. Air felt heavy around you, it was so quiet as you both removed your shoes and stepped into the silent home. You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath until you were pressed against a wall, all at once his mouth was on you, his teeth pulling and biting at your lips, at your neck. Your head was spinning. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby.” He growled into your skin, all at once he reached behind you and undid the zipper, roughing pulling the gown off of you and his lips were back. The desperation in his heated kiss matched yours, you were drugged by the sweetness on his tongue. Your bra came off and his harsh hands massaged your breasts, pulling and pinching at the sensitive numbs before you somehow ended up on the couch in the midst of it all. You hadn’t even realized you’d been moving until the black leather pressed cold against your chest and cheek. Your hips rested on the arm rest, propping up your body for your boyfriend to have the perfect view of what he wanted most.

Not once had the man reached for his clothing and once again you were left mostly bare and him entirely too dressed, but the imbalance ignited something in you. His curious digits lined the bottom of your thighs, pulling at the edges of your lacy underwear. God damn, he was taking so long, you needed him inside you so badly, “Chanyeol,” somehow your tone was stronger than you thought possible and finally his eyes met yours, dark and wanting. The short gasps you shared, the same hot flush on his cheeks you felt on your own, “Just do it already.” As if to accent your words, the little roll of your hips caught on his arousal and you hummed in satisfaction, he hissed and pushed your hips back down, landing a firm slap on the pump flesh.

“So impatient.” A harsh pull as his tie came undone and his clothed body pressed against your naked back, he reached for your hands, blindly tying your wrists has he had time and time again, lips and teeth pressing and scraping and biting on every patch of skin he could touch. “You’re such a slut, I can’t even take my time with you anymore,” he reprimanded and you heard a little zip before he pushed in all at once. It stung and your hole clung to him desperately, he hissed and released a low growl against your ear, not giving you even a second to adjust before he was pushing your hips down and slamming into you again and again.

“Wait,” you cried out, overwhelmed and sensitive, with every thrust of his hips he pulled embarrassing sounds out of you. This was what you wanted, but your body was struggling to catch up to the fast pace of it all, “Yeollie, wait.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to fuck you.” It was animalistic and harsh, and fuck it felt so good. Not once had his back breaking pace hesitated, “Isn’t that what you wanted, little siren?” He pushed deep inside you and held you there, pushing against the deepest point inside you and your bounded hands clawed at the couch, your body recoiling from the intensity and he pulled your hips back to meet his, “Such a good fucking girl.” Those eyes glistened darkly, ravishing you. You were in for a long night.

#exo #chanyeol #chanyeol smut #dom Chanyeol #chanyeol x reader #chanyeol x you #exo smut #exo x reader #exo x you #public smut

116 notes · View notes

cloudlessly-light · 2 years

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Let it be all night 3/6

A/N: Part 3 of Hotchniss getting caught is here! Hope you like it! Chapter 1, Penelope and chapter 2, Dave can be read here!

Title: Let it be all night Summary: Aaron and Emily gets caught… and not only once. Word Count: 2,8k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, oral, dirty talk, rough

Spencer

Emily turned around again with a sigh of annoyance. It was late, past midnight but she couldn’t seem to relax. The case was getting to her, and even though she could feel the way her body was craving sleep, she couldn’t seem to shut her mind off enough to rest. Everything seemed wrong, the pillow too flat, the mattrass too soft, the cover making her sweat but without it, she was cold. She huffed again as she turned from her back to her side.

“Emily… stop it.” Aaron groaned into his own pillow, his voice rough from sleep.

“Sorry, honey.” She whispered, an apologetic smile on her face when she faced him. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, go back to sleep.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked instead, half his face still smushed into the pillow and his arm coming to pull her against him.

“Can’t sleep.” She mumbled as she relaxed into the warmth of his body for a moment. “I think I’ll go to the gym, maybe run for a bit.”

“At 1 am?” His arm tightened around her waist. “No way.”

“It’s fine honey, the serial killer isn’t in this hotel.” She joked dryly, already sitting up.

“That’s not funny.” He knew that she had already made her mind up, that no matter what he said she would still go and he sat up with a groan.

“Go back to sleep.” She said as she pulled shorts and a sports bra from her bag.

“If you’re going to the gym then I’m going.” He sat up as well, stretched slightly before going to his own go-bag.

“Aaron…” She argued but the look he sent her let her know that there wasn’t any point of arguing. For a moment she thought about just getting back into bed, but she was restless, almost feeling claustrophobic and the thought off tossing and turning all night did nothing to quell that feeling. “Fine.” She shrugged before pulling of her sleep shirt to get dressed.

So that’s how Aaron found himself in the gym at 2am in the morning. He was on the treadmill, his lungs aching, his muscles burning from the effort. Emily had gone to refill their water bottles and when she came back she found herself watching her fiancé as he upped the speed. She loved watching him when he worked out, something about how the strength he possessed but rarely showed made her stomach flutter.

She continued to watch him for another few seconds before he noticed her and turned the machine off.

“Why am I the one working out when you were the one who wanted to come here?” He asked with a grin as he took the bottle from her and drank gratefully.

“I did jog,” She defended as he came to stand in front of her. “But maybe… we can do something else?” She winked knowingly and he laughed.

“You couldn’t just have suggested that when we were still in the room?” He pulled her closer to him and kissed her, slow and gentle before breaking apart with a low hum.

“In the room I didn’t get to watch you sprint, didn’t get to watch my handsome man outdo me.”

“Ahh, so you like losing, is that it?” His eyebrow arched and she rolled her eyes.

“I think we both know that I always win, honey.” She pulled him into another kiss, this time licking along the seam of his lips and grasping his hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close. She felt his low rumble, his chest almost vibrating against her as she moved closer to him. She let her fingers trail down his chest, sneaked it under his shirt to feel his sweaty skin.

“Em, lets go back to the room.” He mumbled between kisses, her touch already making want build inside of him.

“Why?” She whispered, her dark eyes glinting with something dark, something he recognized. “We’re alone here.” She gripped his shirt as she moved back until she could sit down on one of the machine benches. Her eyes stayed on his as she pulled her shorts down and he licked his lips at the sight of her skin.

“You are a bad influence on me.” He told her as she pulled her shirt and bra off, leaving her naked and he felt his mouth dry up at the sight before him. Without thinking he kneeled in front of her, trailed slow kisses from her shoulder down to her chest. When he sucked one nipple into his mouth she moaned lowly and arched, offering more of her skin to him.

“We already knew that.” She breathed as she spread her legs wide enough for him to kneel in between. She watched with hooded eyes as he kissed and licked from her chest down her stomach, his dark stare meeting hers just as he licked through the length of her.

“Fuck!” She gripped his hair tight and she could feel his lips curl into a smile against her folds before his tongue dipped inside of her.

“How do you always taste so good?” He mumbled, more to himself than to her before licking inside of her again, a groan rumbling from his throat as she coated his tongue. He pushed her thighs further apart, moved higher to suck on her clit and when she squirmed he was quick to hold her still by a firm grip on her hips.

Emily knew that her grip on his hair was tight enough to hurt, but as he sucked her clit between his lips she couldn’t care less. His tongue was relentless, moving through her and hitting every spot that made her body flush and breathing hitch. She fell back onto the seat, the leather sticking to her sweaty skin but she barely noticed it, not when Aaron pushed two fingers inside of her without warning. She felt him curl them, pushed them against her spot repeatedly and she felt the moan get stuck in her throat.

Aaron sucked her clit harder, knew that she was getting close when her thighs closed in around his head and his efforts doubled. He could barely see her face from his position on the floor, could only make out her heaving breath and parted lips. His cock was already hard, her pleasure always a source of desire for him. He felt her walls clenching around his fingers, could hear her moans getting needier and louder even as her thighs squeezed over his ears.

Emily felt his tongue lap over her clit in quick succession, the motion enough to push her over the edge and she came with a deep moan. She felt her back arch and thighs tremble as he dragged the pleasure from her body, his fingers still moving inside of her as lips wrapped around her clit. He pulled the pleasure from her until she was heaving for breath and had to physically push him away from her.

When she opened her eyes he was looking at her with a smug smirk, his face shiny with her. She laughed, breathless and giddy as she came down from her high before she sat up and pulled him into a kiss. Her hands moved to his sweats, his cock tenting them before she pulled them over his hips until he took over and kicked them off.

“Scoot back.” He told her as he pulled his shirt over his head. He waited until he had enough room to straddle the bench and Emily’s legs fell open for him. He watched her as he ran the tip of him through her folds, grinning when she jerked slightly every time he bumped her clit.

“Fuck me.” She panted, the stirring already back in the pit of her stomach as she stared at him, broad shoulders and strong chest, soft skin hiding muscles that could tear someone to pieces. He was gorgeous, and he was hers. Her eyes closed at the stretch of him when he finally pushed inside of her. It was slow, agonizingly slow as she felt every inch of him until he bottomed out.

Aaron groaned at the feeling of her tight center around him, her walls clinging to him as he started to thrust against her. It didn’t take long until he was leaning over her as he fucked into her deep and hard. He kissed her, muffled the moan of his name with his lips as Emily’s nails dug into his shoulders. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the gym, their moans seeming loud in the empty room.

“Baby,” Emily breathed as his teeth dug into her shoulder, for sure leaving a mark. “harder, fuck me harder.” It was needy, almost a plea falling from her lips and he groaned.

“Turn around, bend over the bench.” He was quick to stand and pull her up beside him. She leaned over the bench, one foot on the floor and one knee on the padded bench as she arched her ass up. Aaron slapped one cheek, a grin on his face when she moaned at the slight sting, so he did it again on the other one. He could see her center glistening and he licked through her without warning, wanting to taste her again.

Emily gave a noise of surprise at his tongue back against her folds but didn’t stop him as he lapped between her legs again. When he straightened she looked over her shoulder with a filthy grin.

“Dirty.”

“You’re one to talk, wanting me to fuck you in an old, filthy gym.” He muttered lowly before grasping her hip with one hand and the other moved to fist her ponytail. “What do good girls say?” He whispered against the shell of her ear as he leaned over her bent body.

“Please,” her response was immediate “please fuck me.”

“Hmm,” He smirked against her ear before straightening “Good girl.” When he pushes inside of her this time, he doesn’t hold back. His fingers dig into her hips as he lets go of her hair, leaving bruises on her pale skin, his thrusts are deep and hard, enough to rattle the bench and the sound mixes with the sound of their groans and moans.

“Holy…fuck!” Emily slams her fist into the leather bench at his cock burring itself inside of her, the feeling bordering on painful, but the kind of pain she loved. She holds onto the bench the best she can as Aaron groans behind her, his voice graveled and breathy and it only adds to the heat building inside of her.

“You’re going to come for me, and then I’m filling that pretty mouth of yours.” He tells her and she nods without realizing. “Can’t have you leaking all the way back to the room now can we?”

“Aaron… Jesus Christ” The filthy words does nothing but turn her on and she slams her hips back against his. Her orgasm was building, each heavy thrust only getting her closer to the edge, then his fingers find her clit and she whines at his rough fingers circling it.

“That’s it.” He encourages lowly as he feels her clenching around him. “That’s my girl.” He moves his fingers faster over her clit and it’s before he knows it, Emily is coming again, her body tensing and a groan leaving her. He fucks her through it, doesn’t stop until she’s slumping in exhaustion and he slips out of her.

She slides to her knees in front of him, takes him in her mouth quickly as she jerks the part of his shaft she can’t fit in her mouth. She looks up at him and moans at the taste of herself on his skin. She licks the underside of his cock, moves her tongue across his shaft as he groans above her.

“Come for me baby.” She breathes before taking him back in her mouth, takes as much of him as she can before pulling back to jerk the base again.

“Fuck, Em, don’t stop.” He groans as Emily’s wet tongue strokes the underside of his shaft, her hand jerking him fast and hard, almost forcing his orgasm from his body. He keeps his eyes on her, the vision of her on his knees enough to get him to the edge.

She felt him tensing, could see the way his eyes clouded over with want and she takes him deeper, ignores the way she gags slightly when his hips thrust against her face.

“Close.” He grits out as his hand find her ponytail once again and hold her still as his hips jerk against her face. He comes spurting onto her waiting tongue, her lips wrapping around the tip and sucking as she continues to jerk him. The pleasure of it makes his knees weak, his eyes closing tight as he lets Emily drag his orgasm out until he’s sensitive to the touch.

When she’s sure he’s done she sits back on her knees and wipes her mouth with a smirk. He helps her to her feet and kisses her, his tongue prying her lips apart to taste himself on her.

“You think you can go to sleep now?” He asks and she chuckles as she leans into him.

Spencer is walking towards the coffee machine, it’s late but he hadn’t been able to sleep. He knows it’s a bad idea to get coffee, but he knew he wouldn’t get much rest tonight regardless. He’s passing the gym when he hears a noise and he’s immediately worried. It’s too late, there shouldn’t be people awake, but the sound is definitely coming from the gym and he walks back to make sure there’s nothing weird going on.

The door has a glass window and he looks through it and then he sees the source of the sound. Emily is on her knees, naked with Aaron’s cock down her throat and he’s coming, his body vibrating with his release.

He flies back like he’s been burnt, the last imagine he sees before bolting back towards his own room is Emily smiling up at Aaron and Spencer knows that what little sleep he might have gotten tonight is all but gone as he tries to erase the image of his boss coming down his friend’s throat.

“Good morning.” Aaron greeted the team the next morning.

“Morning.” JJ smirked as she handed them both cups of coffee. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Not nearly enough.” Emily muttered before taking a large gulp of the coffee.

“Yeah that’s what we heard.” Derek grinned as Aaron and Emily both looked to him with furrowed brows.

“Excuse me?” Aaron asked, his confusion clear as he looked at the rest of the team. JJ and Derek were both grinning, Dave looked at him with a knowing look while Spencer looked everywhere but at him and Emily.

“I’ve heard working out is a good way to get a good nights sleep.” Dave said and JJ’s grin turned into a chuckle. “Would you know anything about that?” The older man looked between Aaron and Emily and when the look of realization hit them he nodded.

“You saw us?!” Emily felt her face flush at this happening again.

“Oh no, not all of us.” Derek wrapped his arm around Spencer’s shoulders while the youngest of the group kept his eyes down, his cheeks even more flushed than Emily’s.

Aaron’s eyes widened slightly, for some reason it felt like Spencer seeing them was the worst out of all of them and for a moment he could do nothing but stare.

“What were you even doing in the gym?” Emily asked, her voice laced with embarrassment as she looked at the man she considered her younger brother.

“I-I was just about to get coffee… and you were… there.” Spencer stuttered, finally making eye contact with them. “I wasn’t there long but I saw… stuff.” He shivered as his eyes closed at the image flashing in his mind “Stuff I never want to see again.”

It was Dave who burst out laughing first this time, the look of horror on Spencer’s face, mixed with the look of embarrassed panic on Emily and Aaron’s faces enough for him to break. Derek and JJ joined him while Aaron shook his head in disbelief and Spencer looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him hole.

“Hey Garcia,” JJ’s voice broke through the laughter as she held the phone to her ear. “Guess who’s joined your and Rossi’s club?”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss smut #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut

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baekxytocin · 2 years

Text

100 Days My Prince - Part 5

Part 5 – 96 Days Left, What Will You Do?

Fluff, Romantic, Slight Smut

Character:

Baekhyun and Reader

‘I can do this. Let me prove that to you’

691 words

It’s November 1st. Night. You try to sleep, but you can’t. Knowing that your husband will return to the camp tomorrow, your heart aches. You look at your lovely husband, Byun Baekhyun, sigh, and then leave the room. You sit near the window in the living room, looking at the road…. the lights…. still busy at night. Inhale, exhale…. Heavily, deeply.

As you are immersed in your own thoughts, you feel a pair of delicate hands wrap around you; one around your shoulder, one at your waist. As the owner of those hands kisses your shoulder, he asks you. “Hard time sleeping, sweetie?”

“Yea…….h” you answer, slurring.

“Something wrong, sweetie?” Come here….” He invites you into his embrace while moving onto the couch. “Tell me, you make me worry with that look” as he gives you a warm smooch on your forehead.

“Nah…. Don’t worry, nothing serious” you answer, letting out another sigh.

He furrows his eyebrows. “Sweetie, no. Don’t do this to me. You make me worry now. How can I return to the camp if I see my lovely wife worrying like this?”

You finally chuckle a little. “I just feel a bit lonely when you’ll return tomorrow. I mean…. I’ll be missing you, but yeah…. Well, worry too….”

“Remember what I told you at Xiumin hyung’s house last time? I can do this. Let me prove that to you” he answered, still furrowing his eyebrows while looking staring at you.

“I do. I believe you, and you know I always believe you” both of you smile at each other, cherishing love, and affection spark at the moment.

“Well, I will have 96 days left, what will you do? Just curious” your husband asks.

“Well…. you know that I’ll be going to the studio tomorrow, since Lay will teach his Veil dance to me. Oh, I’m so excited, probably going to hang out with him too, been ages not seeing him since he returned to his hometown. Plus, he will be busy with the world tour, I heard he has already done some concerts around South East Asian countries. Wow, his solo project is successful” you reflected on some of Lay’s projects.

“Yeah, that’s cool, right? Other than that, what else are you going to do?”

“Hmm…. Just go on with my life without you”

He furrows his eyebrows again. You laugh this time. “What do you mean without me, sweetie?”

“What? That’s true, right? I mean, I will go to work, go back home here, meet the boys, hang out with my colleagues, exercise, eat, drink, shower, sleep, and other things…. The difference is that you’re not here for the next 96 days” you continue to laugh as you see him pouting.

“So, you’re not going to contact your husband?”

“Oh, I thought the husband should call the wife first” you alter your look at the ceiling.

“Sweetie, come on. We should take turns calling each other”

“I don’t know when you’ll be free. Are you free after five?”

Silent.

You take a look at him and he stares at you. You don’t feel intimidated by the way he looks at you, instead, you giggle when he slowly pouts again while his eyes are still locked on you.

However, your smile, your giggles, and your laugh, slowly turn his pouts to smile. He feels happy, and content, when he sees his lovely wife enjoying each moment together. He gets closer to you and plants a kiss on your left cheek. “I love you, sweetheart” as he blows another kiss on your cheek.

The cold night gradually turns to the opposite. You enjoy his touch, his love and affection; you let him do the next move. You close your eyes. He sees you, and he understood. He slowly kisses your cheek, then blows soft air to your left ear. “Hmmm….”

As you enjoy his hot kisses, you feel something hard emerged, down below….

“Hubby…. Can we continue this inside….?”

“Which inside do you want, sweetie….” as he continues kissing you.

“Hmm…. Anywhere you want….”

He carries you to the bedroom and continues your love and affection for that night….

To be continued….

Uploaded on: 2nd November 2022

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#baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun ff #baekhyun fanfic #byun baekhyun #exo baekhyun #baekhyun #baekhyun fluff #exo fluff #romance #exo #november #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #baekxytocinfics #exo fanfic #exo fantasy au

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bunnys-kisses · 1 month

Note

Hello Bunny!! I'm not too sure if you do works based on pro wrestling. But if you did, I'd love love love if you did something for Maxwell Jacob Friedman (AEW). Feel free to totally delete if you don't want to do it or know nothing about it!

If you do accept it, I'd love s'mores, belgian waffles with a side of dark hot chocolate and bubble tea! (I hope you can see my vision!)

Tysm <333 - 🤼

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? hit up the menu! c'mon, it doesn't bite! i accept prompts from across many fandoms and i'll do whatever at this point. as for this lovely anon, thank you for submitting a prompt! i know sometimes it can be a bit confusing about sending outside of the traditional fandoms. but honestly, i'm willing to dig my hands into figuring out how to put this together! so thank you! enjoy!!

and feel free to check out the master-list!

s'mores ("The accent gets to you, doesn't it?") + belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + dark hot chocolate (sub!reader) + bubble tea (daddy kink) served by maxwell jacob friedman (aew/wrestling)!!

cw: smut/pwp, mean & cocky!mjf (duh), rough sex, daddy kink, sub/dom dynamics, dirty talk, voice kink, face-fucking/oral sex

you'd never consider maxwell a bully. even when he got in your face, you always tried to stand toe-to-toe with him. there was something about him, something that drove you to want to push him to the limit.

but if you bit, then maxwell returned the favour til it broke bone.

"The accent gets to you, doesn't it?" he said with all smiles, pointed and venomous. his face close to yours, if things were more softer, then the scene might have been intimate.

instead you pushed him away by the forehead and replied, "honestly. your voice is the reason why the rest of the world thinks americans are stupid." you'd grow to regret your words.

"you are so cute when you squirm." he shook his head, a smile on his lips as he leaned a little forward to get a better look at you, "sometimes a girl's gotta know her place, huh? making a sick joke out of me in front of everyone else."

he loomed over you like a storm cloud as you knelt between his legs. your mouth stuffed full of his cock as you tried to keep it together. his hand was in your hair, forcing you to go down further.

"i should really start going around and saying '"i cum in that every night.' because i don't want people to get the wrong idea about you. oh poor you, dealing with me every day." he gave you a look of faux sympathy, "they probably think you're the one who pulls my leash. no, no. you have it all wrong." he pushed up into your throat a little more, "i have you on a short leash, don't i, baby girl? you like when daddy yanks on it a little too hard. you like getting choked, and don't you deny it." your gaze met with his and drool coated your chin. you couldn't even speak back.

perfectly at maxwell's mercy.

he continued to rub his cock up against the back of your throat. it felt good, he had spent many months trying to face fuck the gag reflex out of you. and it seemed to be working.

"see, you look better like this, angel. on your knees, my cock in your throat. quiet. you always look better when you're not being a snappy little bitch." he groaned as he continued to fuck your throat. he hissed through his teeth as he kept his gaze on your head.

your eyes were closed, but he knew that they were a bit dewy. someone can only choke on cock for so long before they start to cry. as was the nature of things.

you gagged a little bit, but maxwell just pushed a little farther. you gripped onto his knees. your nose buried in his pubic hair, when you inhaled, you took in the scent of his sweat. which both disgusted you, but also made you slick between your legs.

maxwell was the kind of domineering that left you with aches and pains. he liked when his smacks across your ass made the flesh shake or when his hands made a pretty necklace around your delicate throat. the bulkiness of him pressed down on you to keep you pinned under him.

he moved you to his liking, twisting up his baby girl in a way that got him off. but don't worry angel, daddy would make it all better in the end.

he took your mouth off his cock for a moment and gazed at your blissed out expression. even your tongue hung out of your mouth a little. the sight made him chuckle, "see, you can be a good girl for daddy. i'm so proud... now why don't you prove yourself to me and finish me off." then leaned back into the couch. he patted his thigh, "c'mon. if you're gonna act like a brat and talk back to me. then i gotta bruise that little throat of yours so you keep quiet." he smiled at you and you felt pleasure lick at your gut.

if anyone saw and heard what you two were doing. the sickening words that maxwell was filling with your head. then it would definitely raise some eyebrows. but you swallowed and rubbed your bare thighs together.

for you, it was hot.

you got your mouth back on his cock and didn't even flinch when the blunt tip of his cock hit against the back of your throat. you made a small whimpering nose and maxwell hissed through his teeth.

"pretty fucking thing. yeah, you like this don't you? you like when guys who could crush you fuck your throat until they get their sick kicks. i bet i could throw you to the rest of them and you'd be happy to let them fuck you into next week." he clutched onto your hair, "but too bad for you, slut. because you're not going anywhere."

not that you wanted to. you were perfectly content with this bared fang sexual experience. you let him throat fuck you and you held onto his legs. you tried to keep up, but it was hard.

maxwell's pace was erratic and it made flashes appear in the back of your head. he knew he was close. he could feel the tightness in his gut as he continued to bully his cock into your mouth.

"dirty girl. fucking dirty girl. just take me nice and good, okay? take care of your daddy and he'll make everything else better. okay? can you do that for me." he groaned as his pace became more erratic.

he knew he'd have the rest of the night with you. by the end of it, it would be more than your throat that was bruised. he gave it a few heavy thrusts before he came down your throat.

you made a small noise as you tried to swallow it all down and maxwell stilled to a stop. he kept his cock in your mouth for a moment, letting it rest on your tongue. he wished his phone was near by, he'd love to make his lockscreen a picture of you like that.

he rubbed your cheek with more affection than anything else the entire night. he took his cock out of your mouth and watched you rest your cheek against his thick thigh.

his dewy eyed little princess. it was almost cute. he patted your cheek and said, "alright, let's got you up. come here, come to daddy." he said as he helped you into his lap. so naked and vulnerable.

you rested up against his chest and gasped for hair. having a limited supply for so long made it all a bit too much. but yet you were soaked against his strong thigh.

maxwell promised he'd make it all better. he wasn't a monster, he'd always make sure that his baby girl was alright. <3

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captains-simp · 3 years

Note

can you do a fic where reader unintentionally breaks one of the rules by accident so she has to be punished but the punishment is being ignored by BOTH wanda AND nat and reader is uncomfortable with being ignored because it makes her feel invisible and like she's a ghost so like this is what happens, reader breaks a rule in front of wanda and nat but reader doesn't realize she broke a rule but wanda and nat punish reader without telling reader first, and they punish her by not acknowledging her presence and stuff then reader just breaks and starts crying and stuff, she's really upset until nat and wanda cave in and see what's wrong with reader because they didnt know that reader didnt realize she broke a rule and her punishment was being ignored by them

also nat is dom, wanda is switch (like wanda is sub to nat but dom to reader) and reader is sub also nat, wanda and reader are in a poly dom/sub relationship and dating

Oh my god is this ✨smut with a developed storyline✨?

Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanoff ~ 3rd Wheel

Warnings: debatable toxic traits, feelings of abandonment and unlove, fingering, praise, oral and hints of overstimulation

2.4k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You giggled as Sam made stupid sound effects every time he paused in telling his story. You were pretty sure the story wasn’t true but hearing him tell it was entertaining enough. He put his hand on your forearm as he laughed at his own comeback to some apparently ‘very real’ character in the story and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. That was until your other arm was grabbed and pulled you to your feet.

“It’s late, we should go.” Natasha said curtly. You nodded and said goodbye to Sam with a tight hug and followed after the Russian as Wanda joined her at her side.

“How did your meeting go?” You teased the redheads. Officially, what you had just attended was a party. Unofficially, it was a chance for Natasha and Wanda to gather more intel for a future mission that they had been working on for months. Tony, to no one’s surprise, was more than happy to help by hosting the party and it was just like any other to everyone else. You had missed your girlfriend’s company at first, but had eventually started socializing with the others and the night had flown by.

When you were met with silence you assumed you didn’t hear either of their responses over the music so you sped up your steps slightly to stick close by. Once you got to the car you knew they were in a bad mood. It was one thing when one of them was mad but both of them was a whole other storm. Not that it was always bad. Sometimes they would take that anger out on you in the bedroom and you had secretly been dying to be fucked like that for a while.

You tried to make conversation a few times, telling the pair about Sam’s story and how it was probably about as real as fairies but they still didn’t respond. Of course, you had no idea that these things were just making them madder and that Wanda and Natasha were communicating silently most of the time, discussing the meeting as they ignored you. You gave up eventually and gazed out the window as you fiddled with the fabric of your dress.

Once you were home things only seemed to get worse. “I made dinner before we left.” You said as you looked under the grill to find that the three served plates were still fine and put them on the counter. You had cooked before getting ready because you knew your girlfriends were busy and were going to be hungry when they got home. You glanced at the two women to see Natasha undoing her girlfriend’s zipper and placing a soft kiss between her shoulder blades. You smiled at the tender site.

“Hey, where’s my kiss?” You teased as Natasha started towards the bedroom but shouldered right past you. You looked to Wanda but she didn’t spare you a glance either as she strolled through the apartment to your shared bedroom. You watched them go with a dry mouth and dragged yourself to the bathroom where you struggled to undo the zipper of your dress before finally succeeding after five minutes of struggling and sore arms. One of the redheads usually did it for you before you could even think to ask.

You stepped into the shower and tried to focus on the feeling of the hot water running down your body, hoping it would distract you from the dull ache near your heart. It didn’t work. You wondered if you had done anything to annoy them at the party but could think of nothing. With a disgruntled sigh, you turned off the water and stepped out of the safety of the shower. You quickly dried off and tiptoed to your now-empty bedroom to change into your pajamas.

When you went back into the kitchen you found only one of the plates was left. You glanced over at the living area to see Wanda and Natasha curled up together on the couch under a blanket as they watched TV and ate the food you made. They could have at least warmed mine up. You grumbled to yourself as you put it in the microwave and made yourself a drink. You trudged over to the couch but Wanda extended her legs to cover the free space just as you were about to sit down. You looked up at them both but their eyes were still glued to the TV.

You sat down tentatively on the armchair closest to the couch and started taking small bites of your food. You weren’t paying attention to the screen at all. Instead, your eyes kept flickering to the two redheads curled up on the couch together. They looked so warm and tender laying together. You wished so desperately you could be with them, but instead you just felt like an outsider. That had always been a big insecurity for you. Wanda and Natasha were both Avengers and you were just a normal citizen. You often wondered if you ever felt like a burden, the weak part of their relationship. You could never understand their lives the way they could, you could only watch. Usually, you would voice your concerns and insecurities to them and they would assure you to no end that they loved you more than anything. However speaking had gotten you nowhere that night, so you kept it to yourself.

You sat in the living room for hours. You wanted to go to bed so badly. You were utterly exhausted and your eyes were starting to hurt from the lights in the room you wanted to be shielded from. But you were determined not to go until the other two did. You wanted to be curled up between them both like you always were. You wanted to feel safe and secure and most of all loved.

Finally, Natasha turned off the television and stretched out like a cat on the couch before standing and making her way to the bedroom, leading Wanda by the hand. You put your uneaten plate of food on the side to deal with the next day, too tired to even think about it at that moment. The pair instantly dropped down into bed and Natasha held Wanda tightly as she rested her head on the Russian’s chest. You gazed down at them longingly but forced yourself into bed besides them. You reached out your hand to tug weakly on their shirts, desperate for any kind of acknowledgement but received none. You withdrew your hand and held it up to your chest as you watched the pair. How long had they been craving time to themselves?

You slowly got out from under the covers and left the room without feeling their usual fond gazes on your back. You lingered in the hallway before glancing back and saw Natasha tracing circles on Wanda’s back. You gulped back tears and made your way to the spare bedroom where you slept alone for the first time in months.

You didn’t get up until lunch the next day. You didn’t feel like doing anything, especially not facing your girlfriend. You wanted to stay out of their way to give them the alone time they so clearly needed.

When you had finally dragged yourself out of bed and into the hallway you froze. Wanda’s moans could be heard clearly from your bedroom followed by sharp cries of Natasha’s name. You stood rooted to the spot as the pain in your chest grew worse. Since they had so keenly invited you into their relationship. The pair had never once done anything sexual without you. At first you had been flattered and insisted that you were okay if they wanted to do things by themselves every once in a while but eventually you had grown used to how things were. You had grown used to being included in everything.

Numbly, you made yourself a hot chocolate in hopes of it raising your spirits. Not long after you had finished, your girlfriends came wandering into the kitchen with a new glow.

“Do you want a drink?” You piped up, you could at least be helpful. Wanda grabbed something from the fridge as Natasha took out a glass from the cupboard and spun around to kiss her girlfriend on the lips with a soft giggle. Wanda smiled against her and hummed when Natasha’s tongue teased the Sokovian’s lower lip.

“I love you.” Natasha hummed and Wanda smiled with a blush as she said the words back.

“I- I love you too.” You added and took a desperate step towards them both, holding out your hands to them but they separated and started to stroll back into the living room. You watched on as tears sprung to your eyes. They didn’t say it back. They always said it back. “Please.” You whispered though you may have well have been talking to a wall. You whimpered quietly and weakly made your way to the guest room where you closed the door and fell down onto the bed, not being able to stop the tears streaming down your face. You curled up on yourself and hugged your duvet as close to your body as possible, needing something to cling onto like a lifeline.

You didn’t hear the door open through your muffled weeping. You did feel the gentle pair of hands on your waist and the dip in the bed either side of you. Your head shot up and you looked between the pair in panic, fearing they were going to tell you to go elsewhere for the day or even forever. Wanda shushed you softly and held your dampened cheeks in her hands.

“It’s okay, honey.” Wanda cooed and you whimpered as you tried to enjoy what you assumed was the last time she would hold you. “We’re not going anywhere and neither are you.” You peered at her cautiously and then Natasha who nodded gently.

“We’re sorry, baby. Sam was getting a little too handsy last night and you didn’t seem to notice.” Natasha explained carefully. You remembered the brief moment he had touched your waist and frowned at the memory.

“And you know letting people touch what isn’t theirs is breaking a rule.” You nodded slowly as Wanda added on.

“So your punishment was being ignored by us so you could learn but we took it too far.” Natasha admitted.

“And we never told you what was happening. We’re so sorry we made you feel this way, sweetie. We love you so much.” Wanda said as she kissed you softly on the lips as Natasha lay down behind you and wrapped her arms protectively around your waist.

“So so much.” She added.

“Promise?” You asked and Wanda lay down to join you and wipe your tears away.

“Always.”

“Let us show you.” Natasha whispered against your neck and you nodded as she rolled you gently onto your back and began planting soft kisses along your neck, occasionally lingering on patches of skin to suck dark bruises into them. Wanda titled your head towards you and kissed you slowly, cherishing the taste of you and wanting to reclaim all that she could.

Natasha’s hands started to wander down your stomach and landed at the hem of your sweatpants that she easily surpassed along with your panties. You gasped when you felt her fingers run along your folds and up to your clit. You bucked your hips and moaned against Wanda when she applied some pressure, all while the Sokovian started to retrace her girlfriend’s steps by running her hands across your breasts. Her thumbs brushed against your hardened nipples and she hummed against you.

Natasha finally pushed two fingers past your folds and relished in the slick that coated them instantly. She curled them gently inside you and withdrew to start about making a consistent pace that had you melting beneath them both.

“That’s it, sweetie.” Wanda assured in the most loving tone you had ever heard from her.

“Taking me so well. Our best girl.” Natasha hummed and withdrew her fingers. You whined softly but shushed when Natasha brought her fingers up to Wanda’s lips and slid them inside. The Sokovian hummed in delight around Natasha’s fingers, eagerly licking her slender digits before retreating to start down your body, determined to gain an unfiltered taste.

Wanda pulled your sweatpants and panties off completely and kissed up your thighs softly, taking her time in treasuring you just as Natasha had done with your neck. She gleamed at the sight before her and didn’t hesitate to lick a long strip between your folds. You mewled in Natasha’s hold as Wanda moaned against you. “Always so sweet.” She dipped her tongue inside of you and you clenched around her muscle with a gasp.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for us.” Natasha praised softly as she started to rub your clit with her free hand. You bucked against both their movements, feeling beautifully overwhelmed by it all. Wanda’s tongue flicked inside you and you moaned loudly into the air, tempting Natasha to quieten you with a kiss while your other girlfriend continued to work between your legs that were beginning to shake.

“Please.” You whined as you felt your high approaching. The pair smiled at one another as they continued to please you.

“I can feel you clenching my tongue.” Wanda mused.

“Go ahead and cum for us, baby.” You did as you were told without a second’s delay. You moaned loudly into the air as you shuddered against the bed and came undone on Wanda’s tongue. The pair helped you ride out your high and into another orgasm relentlessly. They didn’t let up, making you cum again and once more, leaving you feeling utterly exhausted and overworked.

“That’s it, darling. You did so good for us.” Wanda praised as she fell down besides you and they both held you protectively.

“We love you.” Natasha muttered softly and you smiled.

“I love you both too.” You hummed, enjoying the warmth of your girlfriends’ comfort.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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ppersonna · 4 years

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swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary- after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia @untaemedqueen for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks and @hongism for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you.

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily.

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it.

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water.

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk.

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.”

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo.

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?”

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above.

“You call Jimin a prince?”

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband.

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.”

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.”

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own.

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.”

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.”

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid.

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom.

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed.

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it.

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can.

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone.

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway.

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk.

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read.

He just matched with YOU.

His best friend.

His secret, lifelong crush.

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it.

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen.

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other.

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message.

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone.

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend.

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone.

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion.

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff.

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband.

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line.

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend.

“It’s nothing!”

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.”

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.”

You roll your eyes.

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off.

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams.

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback.

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly.

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures.

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen.

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more.

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is.

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork.

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you.

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause.

“What’s up?” He asks curiously.

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner.

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours.

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own.

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to.

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator.

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze.

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face.

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest.

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others.

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park.

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too.

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth.

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm.

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing.

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it.

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck.

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes.

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently.

“And I promise to never run away from you again.”

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself.

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again.

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with.

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing.

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss.

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours.

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly.

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed.

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?”

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement.

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.”

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited.

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs.

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes.

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more.

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.”

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable.

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan.

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water.

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently.

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue.

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue.

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets.

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully.

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.”

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body).

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are.

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down.

“Still dreaming?”

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire.

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes.

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout.

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?”

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug.

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing.

“I plan to find out everything.”

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.”

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss.

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you.

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.”

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body.

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands.

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.”

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation.

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.”

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off.

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air.

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt.

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation.

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion.

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship.

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister.

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

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#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #ficswithluv #jjk smut #bts fics #jjk fic #jungkook fic

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duskholland · 3 years

Text

Stuck With(out) You - Mob!Tom Smut

tom was having a really nice day until the metropolitan police decided to crash his date. or, when the law finally catches up to london’s most notorious mobster, tom learns that nothing is fair in love and war.

word count ↠ 15k. warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, alcohol, a car chase, extensive depictions of prison, violence (very minor injury detail), tattooing, pregnancy, bad language, smut! there are extended nsfw warnings below the cut but this is 18+ so minors please do not interact. a/n ↠ this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken 100% seriously! similarly to every other fic I’ve written about mob!tom, I don’t condone any of the actions shown in this story and all depictions of the mob and prison are entirely fictional. please do not date members of the mafia even if they are tom holland !!!!! + this fic was conceptualised before the release of cherry, and there are no purposeful links to the content of that film! the image from esquire that I’ve used is what led me down this path lmfao...esquire I love/hate you. ++ the biggest thank you ever to the wonderful @uglypastels for helping me with the initial brainstorm on this one, and for just generally being so supportive as I’ve struggled with writers block :’) I wouldn’t have ever been able to think this up let alone have the motivation to write this without you, so thank you and ily z <3 +++ there is a pov change halfway through this fic! it is intentional and you should be able to see it pretty easily but I’m just flagging it so you don’t think I lost it halfway through ahahha. enjoy!

nsfw warnings ↠ car sex, soft!dom!tom ft minor sir kink, oral and fingering (fem-receiving), multiple orgasms with brief refs to overstimulation, minor pregnancy kink, unprotected sex ft cumshot.

✧ *:･ﾟStuck With(out) You･ﾟ:*✧

There’s something wrong with you, and Tom can’t quite put his finger on it.

He wonders if it’s the wine. He’d spent hours debating the type of grape and ideal bitterness, scouring his memory in search of the perfect blend to share with you on your date. Eventually, he’d settled on the same deep red that he’d shared with you the first time he’d visited your flat, back when your love was just a small spark. Three years have passed since then, the nerves of early romance melted away and replaced by knowing and love, but the wine has recurred each time one of you has decided to treat the other, so what better blend to bring along to the picnic that Tom had so meticulously planned?

You haven’t touched your glass, and Tom—for all his confidence and charm—is deeply unsettled by this.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks for what feels like the tenth time, with brows furrowed so tightly his forehead aches. Tom reaches across the gingham blanket to join your fingers together, surprised to feel the clamminess of your skin as you gently squeeze his hand.

You hum. “I’m fine,” you say, voice devoid of any intense emotion. You sigh softly before bringing your eyes to meet Tom’s, and the man feels his heart constrict in his chest. You’re perfect, even with your hair messy from the light spring wind and the nerves that sit across your face. When you squeeze his hand again, and Tom glances down to see the engagement ring on your fourth finger, the ache in his heart sharpens.

He never knew love could be this fulfilling, nor so easy. Breathing is harder than it is to love you.

“Okay,” he replies. “Do you want to go home?”

You’ve been so quiet for the entire date, which is strange because usually, you match his energy effortlessly. Tom has been away for a few weeks doing business in Liverpool, and this date by the river is the first time you’ve been properly alone since he returned. He’d really expected you to enjoy the date—or, on a very basic level, at least look like you want to be here. With your quiet answers, avoidance, and nervous stares, he can’t confidently say that you do.

You shake your head. “No, no.” You fiddle with some of his rings before pulling your hand away from his. As you sit up a little straighter, you turn away from Tom to stare instead at the River Thames.

The river behind you is lit by the mid-afternoon sun and flooded with boats. It’s such a lovely day that Tom almost doesn’t notice the horrible brown tinge to the water. Lining the bank are small groups of people—families, friends, couples, tourists. They all stay clear of the two of you, undoubtedly wary of the security guards lingering near their boss. He rarely goes out so obviously like this, but you’ve always loved London, and he’d wanted to treat you. He’d wanted this to be a nice day.

“You know you can talk to me, don’t you?” he checks, voice catching slightly.

Your eyes snap up to his quickly. “Tom,” you say, voice wrapped endearingly around his name. Moving easily, you slip closer to him, carefully shifting around the food and the glasses until you’re close enough to reach out and touch his cheek. “I love you.”

Tom’s teeth graze his lower lip as he feels you pad your thumb across his jaw. “I know,” he murmurs, dropping his gaze. “I love you too.” He pauses for a few moments, savouring the closeness and the scent of your rosy spritz. He’d missed you so much that it almost hurts to have you so close again. “I know you have something on your mind, darling… Can you tell me what it is? I want to help you.”

“I…” A breathy exhalation follows. You bring your hand away from his cheek and rest it on the red silk material covering his shoulder. He’s in a loose designer shirt, the top two buttons unbuttoned and showing off the silver-linked chain he has hanging from his neck. “Tom, I just…”

“What?”

A small smile twitches at your lips. “Not here,” you seem to decide, voice a little stronger. “I have something I need to show you.”

“At home?”

“Yeah.”

Tom feels the weight rolls from his shoulders. It’s fine—everything is fine. You want to let him in, want to trust him with the cause of your anxieties. You still want him.

“Let’s go, then,” he decides, knowing he’s far too impatient to spend another hour laying by the river. Tom offers you a hand, and you take it. He tugs you away from the picnic setup with ease. He doesn’t need to bother with putting the things away—someone else will do it. Just one of the perks of his job.

“I missed you,” you say, smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand as you walk together towards the car. “It gets lonely without you in the house. Our bed is ridiculously huge without two people in it.”

Tom chuckles. “Good job I’m back now then, eh?”

The noise you release is stacked full of so much relief it makes Tom feel guilty for ever leaving to begin with. As he watches the bright, genuine smile flow across your face when you meet his eyes, he resolves to never leave for business again. Never. Not without you.

“A very good job,” you clarify. When you reach the car together, Tom holds the door open for you, ushering you in dramatically until you’re laughing and making fun of him for fussing. The only way he can stop you from your jovial whines is by leaning across the dashboard and pressing his lips to yours, so really he can’t complain. “This car is stupid, too,” you decide.

“Oh, that’s too fucking far,” Tom murmurs, glancing in the rear mirror as he peels away from the pavement. He’s glad the air between you has lightened. You seem happier now you’ve decided to spill your secrets. He rests his hand on the back of your headrest as he twists in his seat, eyes on the road as he reverses. “This car is a beauty.”

“This car is confusing,” you say, and Tom feels you staring at the flex of his bicep. “I tried driving it when you were gone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm. Couldn’t even get it up the drive.”

“Well, not to be rude, darling, but it’s hardly fair to blame my beautiful car for the fact that you’re an atrocious driver.”

If looks could kill, Tom knows he’d be six feet under.

“Fuck you, Tom,” you seethe, but your voice is charged with laughter. “I take it back. I didn’t miss you at all. Go back to Liverpool, see if I care.”

Tom cackles. “Maybe I will,” he teases, “just to see how long it takes you to start begging for me to come back again.”

You grumble something incoherent at that, then the words between you lull into a comfortable silence. After a few moments, you shift your palm to rest on his thigh, your hand gentle, warm. Your fingertips trace tiny love hearts over his slacks.

“Don’t,” you say eventually, voice quieter. “Stay this time.”

Tom risks a quick glance to you, growing breathless in the depths of your eyes. “Of course,” he says, voice thick. Tom returns his gaze to the road, his chest feeling tight. “I’m never leaving you again.”

“I mean, you can leave sometimes if you want—”

“No. Never.” Tom’s cheeks ache. “I’m never leaving your side.”

“Alright, Tom.” You sigh lightly, feigning exasperation. “I guess there are worse things than being stuck with you.”

“I’m charmed, darling. So relieved you like spending time with your fiancé.”

You shift in your seat at that, and Tom doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re flustered. You’re always shyer around him when he mentions the fact that your futures are intertwined, almost unbelieving that he’d slipped that ring onto your finger. It doesn’t matter how many times Tom tells you that he cherishes you—you never quite make peace with the fact that he wants to chase the moon with you. That doesn’t mean he’ll stop telling you, though. You hang the stars in his sky.

“I love spending time with you, Tom,” you mumble. “And I hope that what I’m about to tell you doesn’t change how you feel about me.”

His eyebrows raise. “Wait— what?” Tom scrunches the tip of his nose up as he squints in your direction. “Y/N, what—” He pauses, concentrating on keeping his voice level. “Angel, nothing you could ever do would change the way I feel about you. Nothing.”

You smile quietly. “It’s not a bad thing,” you add, almost sensing his unease. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Perfect.” Tom sits a little straighter in his seat. “Then there’s nothing to worry about—”

Sirens cut into his words. Tom startles, glancing in the mirror to see a police car with a whirring blue siren perched atop the grimy vehicle.

“Tom,” you say slowly, voice filling with dread. Your tone sends shivers down his spine. “Did you do something?”

Tom bites his lip.

He’s been trying his best to stay above the law recently, but… Liverpool had been messy. Very messy. He hadn’t intended on things going quite as terribly as they had, but one thing had led to another, and he’d had to fuck a few things up. The crime is nothing as intense as he’s been booked for in the past, but he’d had to write a few irregularities into his taxes and business agreements to smooth over the waters. It’s not as bad as murder, but it’s tax fraud nonetheless.

Tom had thought he’d been fine. Apparently not. He’s been a hot target for the Metropolitan Police for years, and they’ve consistently unearthed every tiny discrepancy he’s tried to get away with. He should’ve been more fucking careful.

“Shit,” Tom mutters. As he brings his eyes back to the road in front of him, he realises the police car behind you has been joined by another two, closing in from side streets and boxing him in amongst the traffic. He swallows thickly. “I messed up.”

You curse. “Idiot,” you mutter. You sit forwards in the seat and start to point to a gap in the traffic, right across the square. “Go there,” you say, voice pitching higher. “If you go fast, you’ll make it.”

He could book it. Tom’s run away before, in situations of peril where the alternative had been the law and escaping would give him the chance to alter some books and clear his name. It would be easy to slam his foot on the accelerator and dive down side streets, dodging the thick London traffic.

“Tom!” you say again, voice stressed with desperation. “Tom, go!”

The gap in the traffic is narrowly closing, the window of time Tom has to zoom through and get to safety shrinking before his very eyes. If he was alone, he’d do it without a second thought, but you’re here.

You’re here, and that means he can’t be selfish. Tom couldn’t ever risk you, not with such a treacherous manoeuvre like the one that you’re suggesting, nor with the repercussions you’d face if he books it. You’d either have to come on the run with him, or you’d end up captured and grilled by the Met, and neither of those options is the types of things he’d ever bring willingly upon you. You would never deserve that, and he refuses to make it a possibility.

Tom slows down the car.

“Tom,” you say, shock filling your voice. “What are you doing? They’ll get you.”

He nods. “I want you to listen to me, very carefully,” he says quickly.

“But—”

“—Darling, please. Please.” Tom stops the car abruptly. He calculates he has mere seconds before the officers ditch their vehicles and start storming across the traffic to haul him from his seat. “Don’t say anything to them. They want me, not you.” He turns off the engine and grabs your hands, holding them close as he stares into your eyes. “Call Harrison. Whatever shit they’re bringing me in for won’t hold up for long. They’ve— they’ve done this before. They never win. We have backup plans for this crap.”

“Tom,” you whisper, eyes welling with tears, “but they—”

“I know. I know, baby. I know.” He presses quick kisses to your knuckles, clinging so tightly to your fingers it’s like he’ll drift away without your touch. “I’m sorry. I am so bloody sorry. I love you so much.”

His throat hurts. The sight of the pain in your eyes makes him hate himself for ever bringing you into this faithless way of life. He doesn’t give a fuck that he’s destined for a cell—Tom cares that he’s hurt you.

“I love you too,” you say. You lean closer, undoing your seatbelt and popping his too as you reach up to cup Tom’s cheeks in your shaky hands. “It’ll be okay,” you stress. “I’ll get you out of there, baby.”

You lean in closer to kiss him, and Tom aches. The scent of your perfume is overwhelming, and he feels fragile beneath the hold you have on his face. The kindness in your eyes makes it hurt even more. It’d be easier if you’d let fury consume you and spend these last sacred moments denouncing him instead of loving him, but of course, you’re not like that.

The car door opens, and Tom is hauled from the car the moment his lips touch yours. Before he can process it, he’s being pushed up against his car, stiff arms keeping him pinned in place. He closes his eyes, firming up his face and shoving down his feelings as he forces himself to dry up, become stoic. He won’t show weakness now he’s outside.

Tom hears you exit the vehicle a few moments later, the crash of the door coupled with a few scuffles. He drowns out the words of the officers whilst they reel off a list of fabricated crimes, smugness evident in their voices. Good for fucking them.

When they eventually release him, he’s cuffed and weaponless, his spirit bent in two. The metal of his car had hurt his face, but nothing breaks Tom’s heart more than the sight of you being held back by two officers, tears streaming down your face. You bring your hands into the shaky outline of a heart, and it’s the last thing he sees before he’s pushed into the back of a van.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s day goes from bad to worse.

It’s clear that everyone at the station has been waiting for him to fuck up. He’s met with sly smiles and teasing comments as he’s reacquainted with some of his most despised wardens and guards. He’s held in a temporary cell for almost a day and quizzed on the shreds of ‘evidence’ they’d procured from his house during a raid, and though Tom declines to answer every single question they throw at him, their smugness never fades.

He walks into the trial already knowing he’s going to be locked up, and not even the sight of you beside Harrison and Harry on the benches soothes him.

Five years. He’s charged with five years.

Now, Tom isn’t worried. He knows he won’t actually be held in a cell for that long. He’s already had correspondence with Harrison, who’s assured him that he’s working on it, and there’s really nothing much to worry about. Tom has been in this situation twice before, and on both occasions, he’d been released in less than a month. The connections he’s built from his years heading up the mob are reliant and unwavering, and he knows he won’t have to serve even a fifth of his sentence.

The only difference between the times before and now is you, and Tom can only fucking pray that you don’t despise him for dirtying your name with his crimes. You’d been normal before him—a waitress, aspiring painter, an innocent. Despite your insistence that you love him with all strings attached, his guilt weighs him down. He doesn’t give a fuck about the law and whatever twisted loopholes the jury had bought, but he does care about you and what you think of him. That’s the hardest part.

Two weeks pass achingly slowly.

Prison isn’t that bad for Tom. He’s pretty fucking lucky, all things considered. He has friends here—blokes he’d met around town, most of whom are willing to welcome him in. A few of his old guys are locked behind bars with him, unwavering in their loyalty and more than happy to absorb him as members of their group. Those who don’t know Tom know of him. His reputation as a murderous, cold-hearted killer follows him inside, regardless of its falsity. Tom hasn’t taken a life in three years, but these men don’t need to know that.

“Holland! Get the fuck up. You’re in the gym.”

Tom glances up. He’s lying on top of his bed, one hand propped behind his head, the other holding open a book. He isn’t an avid reader like you, but you’d sent him a copy of your favourite book with scribbled annotations in the margins, and he’s been spending every hour since its arrival clinging to the pages.

He sighs as he puts the book down and stands from the lower bunk. He’s in with a young lad, Ollie, booked on a minor drugs charge. Why they’d paired someone on such a minimal sentence with a member of the mob, Tom will never understand, but the fear in the lad’s eyes every time he looks at him is enough to keep his wavering ego bobbing just above the waterline.

“Step away from the door.”

Tom does as instructed. A moment later, there’s a loud buzzer followed by the swinging of the heavy metal door.

In walks Luther, Tom’s archnemesis. If the inmates fear him, the guards despise him, and to be fair, Tom understands why. He’s a bit of a dick when he’s behind bars. Usually, when he’s free, he operates with a level of poise and charm that comes with his position as leader. He speaks to his men with a firm but kind hand, respects everyone he deems his equal and commands supreme authority without becoming a tyrant. However, when he has his freedom stripped away, and he has to bend to fit the system’s will, his attitude becomes… problematic.

“Holland,” Luther barks. A moment later, he appears in the doorway, coughing loudly, cheeks flushed a ruddy red. He snarls at Tom, his voice like jagged glass. “Come on.”

“You alright, mate?” Tom asks. “You sound fucking terrible.” He looks it, too, with a dripping nose and red-rimmed eyes. He looks ill.

Luther’s features sharpen. “Get over here now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom swaggers to the door and dodges a little as Luther cuffs him, the man digging the metal into his skin with extra ferocity. They start to march down the long, grey corridor towards the fitness suite, Luther prodding Tom forward with a hand digging into his back.

“How’s your wife?” Tom tries, tired of the echoing footsteps.

Luther sighs. “How’s yours?”

“She’s doing very well, thank you.”

The guard tuts. “Does she like having a criminal for a husband?”

“Does yours like being married to such a wanker— hey!”

Luther pushes him down the corridor with haste. “Quiet, Holland,” he mutters. “I’ve had enough of you.”

“Well, then it’s too bad you’re stuck with me,” Tom replies. “Did you know that if me being here annoys you so much, you could always let me go? That would sort out your problem.”

He barks a laugh. “Yeah? Let London’s most wanted convict escape?”

Tom raises a brow. “London’s most wanted?” he echoes. “Wow.” Pride seeps into his voice. “That’s an accomplishment.”

“Not a positive one. Self-absorbed bastard.”

It’s easy to laugh. Letting the comments bounce off his back is easier than admitting the jibe about you has irked him. Do you like having a criminal for a partner? Even Tom, for all the world has jaded him, knows no sane person would rest well with the knowledge that their significant other has lied, stolen, and killed. It doesn’t lie well with him, and he was born into this.

They reach the gym.

Tom sticks to the same workout regime he has at home. He does his cardio for twenty minutes on the wobbling treadmill, then sits around on the bench press and does curls with a few of the guys. He keeps quiet, his mind loud, only adding a few comments when necessary. His sullenness adds to his image, and he’s busy with thoughts of you. By the time he’s finished, he feels arguably worse than before. The endorphins from his workout are overshadowed by the guilt Tom feels, clawing at his heart, heavy and persistent in its certainty that he’s a lousy partner.

He can handle being a bad guy, but a bad man? A bad brother, bad friend, or bad lover? The opinions of the guards mean nothing to him, and neither does the law, but when it comes to the people he cares about, their opinions mean everything. Tom has let Luther get into his head, and whilst he knows that was the guard’s intention, the seed of doubt has been planted. As he pumps iron, he feels it grow, taking root, blooming taller.

“Holland. Time to go.”

He grunts as he stands. Sweaty and sore, Tom hobbles to the doorway, feeling considerably smaller than he had when he’d left his cell. The cuffs hurt his wrists as his hands are clasped back together, and the walk back feels even longer than before.

“You had a parcel delivered,” Luther says, breaking the silence. “It arrived last week.”

Tom’s eyebrows pull together. “Last week?”

“I thought I should hold it back until you’d settled in,” comes the patronising response. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many new experiences, Thomas. Not that being in here is anything out of the ordinary for you, though.”

He feels his jaw twitch. He flexes his hand, knuckles burning for movement. Not yet, not yet. He has to wait, has to play the long game.

“You’re a dick,” Tom decides. He doesn’t care that he gets thrown roughly into the cell. He trips over the floor and barely manages to scrape himself to his feet, but he throws out a smirking “fuck you,” before the door slams shut. He’d follow it up with more snide remarks, but he becomes distracted by the sight of the parcel sitting on his bed.

It’s neat, despite the obvious intrusion into its contents by the guards. He flops onto his lower bunk, glad his cellmate is absent as it allows him to drop the ruse. Lips sagging into a frown, Tom rips open the package.

He releases a fragile sound as the contents pour across his duvet. Polaroids fall across the sheets, glistening slightly, neat and pristine. A lump comes to the back of his throat as he shuffles through them, finding images of you, Harry, Sam, Tess… The list carries on. For every person he can think of, there’s an image captured perfectly in time. He even appears in a few of them, with his hand around Haz’s shoulder or his lips pressed to your temple.

He finds a note attached at the bottom.

Tom, I thought you’d want some reminders of home while you’re away. We’re all looking forward until the day you can come home to us. Love you forever, Y/N <3

As Tom traces the edge of his nail along the outline of your face, his eyes well with hot tears. You always know what he needs, even when he doesn’t. You know him, inside out, and you’re continuing to support him, despite it all. He is indebted to you, and he knows already that as soon as he’s let out, he’ll spend every second of his life trying to repay that.

The seed of doubt burns away.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Two weeks later, Tom finally gets to see you again.

The prison visiting room is fucking grim. Toned in sludgy shades of grey and brown, it’s about as ugly as it could be. There are window slits pressed high into the walls, but the primary source of light is from the musky bulbs set above each table. The chairs are uncomfortable, and the decor lacks inspiration. Tom often wonders if the room was designed to be as revolting as possible.

Despite this, as Tom shuffles into the room that smells suspiciously of plasticine, he couldn’t be happier. It doesn’t matter that his wrists ache from the cuffs, nor that the garish shade of orange clashes horrendously against his skin: you’re here, and that makes everything better.

You’re sitting at the table in the corner of the room, drumming your fingers pensively over the surface. His eyes catch on the glinting ring wrapped around your fourth finger, and the sense of longing that had settled in the hollowness of his chest is quickly burnt away. Sensing his movements, you glance up, and when your eyes meet with his, Tom feels his heart come home.

You raise a hand in greeting, smiling shyly, and he tries to look as non-threatening as possible. He knows the new buzzcut and the stupid get-up probably don’t help, but you don’t look at him like he’s any different.

As he draws nearer, Tom finds himself blinking a few times, questioning how long you’ve been separated. The version of you he has holed up in his memories pales in comparison to the woman that he sees before him now, but he can’t quite pinpoint why. You seem fuller somehow—vibrant, glowing, alive, your face doused in a heavenly glow and your skin bright with health. Your figure has changed slightly, and Tom can’t stop himself from running his eyes all over you, trying to memorise every tiny detail his memory had blurred away. You look so beautiful, every single part of your form enhanced and bright, and your chest—

Fuck, it’s been a long time.

“Y/N,” he exhales the moment he’s been pushed into his seat. His guard unclasps his cuffs, and Tom immediately reaches out across the table, almost moaning from relief when you wrap your fingers around his. Your skin is so warm.

“Tom,” you whisper. Emotion seeps into your voice, and he feels his chest crack as tears pool in your eyes. “Are you okay? I— I missed you.”

He hums, biting his lip. “I’m fine, baby. I’m okay. Are you?”

You nod quickly. “I’m okay too,” you say. “Things are strange without you, but we’re working around the clock to get you out of here.” You drop your voice slightly. “I think we’re near a breakthrough.”

Tom’s teeth brush his lower lip. “Good, good,” he says. “How’s Tess? And Harry, and the others? Are they looking out for you?”

“Yeah,” you say. You squeeze Tom’s hands tightly. “They’re all okay. Mainly just worried about you.”

He shrugs, trying to lessen the furrow in your brow. “‘M all good, darling,” he promises. “Don’t worry about me.”

Your eyes skate across his face. “I like your hair,” you say gently. For a moment, Tom thinks you’re going to try and reach out to touch the buzzed fuzz, but you seem to remember that anything beyond handholding is prohibited. You have to settle for a slightly suggestive smile. “It looks good on you.”

“Thanks, lovie.”

Your smile is sad but it’s still hopeful. Whatever emotions you’re feeling, it’s clear that you’re trying to smooth them away and keep them to yourself. “There’s something I wanted to tell you,” you say, easing into the words with difficulty. Tom watches as you look away, doubt casting across your face.

“What is it?” Vaguely, Tom remembers how skittish you’d been the day he’d been taken away, the memory distorted from the noise of everything else that had happened. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You bite your lower lip. “Uh, just first… how are you holding up in here? Like, actually. Don’t bullshit me and play the tough guy.” Your eyes are wide and persistent. “How are you actually doing?”

Tom blinks a few times. “Fine,” he shoots immediately. He clenches your fingers tightly in his, clinging on for a moment until he exhales. “I wish I could be here for you properly, though. It worries me that I don’t know what’s happening on the outside…” He hates being left out in the dark, but it isn’t your fault. It’s his. “I wish I could be a better boyfriend to you.”

“Fiancé,” you correct, the word soft like it’d left your mouth without thought. “You’re already a good boyfriend, Tom. I knew what I was signing up for. I wanted this back then, and I still do now.”

“Still,” he grumbles. He tries to even out the heaviness of the conversation with a smile. “I think about you all the time, baby. And the others too, but… mostly you. I just hate that I’m missing out on our life together.” He has to stop for a moment as he recollects his thoughts. “I’m sorry that I did this to us, and I’m sorry I let you down.”

You crack a wry smile. “You can’t change the past, Tom. You can only affect the future.” You pause, your expression hardening. “I need to know that you’ll go slower when you get out. I know this is your life, but some things need to change. We— I need you to stay out of trouble. Do you understand?”

He nods his head immediately. “Of course, of course. I don’t ever want to get arrested again, darling.”

You drop your voice. “I’m not saying you need to quit everything, just… get better safeguards and be smarter. I love who you are, Tom, but this…” You break off to gesture around, pointing vaguely at his cuffs, the jumpsuit, and the guards. “This isn’t good for you or for me. And I love you, but I won’t stay if you don’t try.”

It’s hard to hear, but he knows it’s what he deserves to hear. He knows you deserve to stand your ground.

“I know,” Tom says gently. “I’ll get clean when I’m out, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be a good man by you.”

You squeeze his fingers tighter. “You already are,” you promise, “and I love you so much, even when you’re being an idiot.”

He laughs breathlessly. “Thank you, darling.” Tom tilts his head to the side. “What was it you wanted to say?”

Conflict briefly colours your face, manifesting itself in the arch of your eyebrow and the biting of your lower lip. You inhale sharply, only to exhale again a moment later.

“I’ll tell you when you’re out,” you say softly.

Tom scowls. There’s no anger there, just confusion. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

You shake your head. “I… Pretend I never said anything,” you say. You follow it up with a quick, “if I thought you needed to know, I’d tell you.”

He doesn’t want to push it, so Tom lets the topic slip away. You sit together silently for a few minutes. It’s hard to talk, difficult to express how much he misses you, how much he’s sorry. He knows that you understand—you always do, and you have similar tears wobbling across your eyes. Talking can come afterwards when he’s out and he’s free. All he needs now is the feeling of your hand back in his.

The visit is over far too soon.

Leaving you is difficult. Tom isn’t allowed to hug you or go any nearer than the linked hands on the table, but you tug at his fingers until he feels the imprint of your engagement ring rubbing against his skin. He even manages to kiss your knuckles a few times before he’s pulled up from the table and cuffed again.

“Be on your best behaviour,” you say, soft with your parting words. “The lawyer says the better you are, the easier it’ll be to get you out early.”

Tom has a bit of his spark back. Even as he’s pulled back, he manages a devious smirk. “When am I ever not on my best behaviour, darling?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A few days later, Tom snaps.

To be fair, it isn’t really his fault. He’s pushed to the very verge of insanity, prodded at and provoked beyond the point of return.

It happens when he’s in the barber, huddled in the back corner of the room as he gets a new tattoo. Tom is used to the pain of the burning needles as he already has a few pieces on his arms and his hands, so he’s able to take the fresh marks to his knuckles as the ink stains black against his skin. However, he’s a bit on edge from the sharp buzzing, which is perhaps why he responds so negatively to the taunting he starts to receive. It comes from Toni and the rest of his snivelling gang. They’re all members of the East London mob, ruled over by Tom’s nemesis Gordy. Most of the time, they stick to their side and Tom sticks to his, but they’ve caught him in a vulnerable position, and Toni never seems to know how to pick his timing.

It’s basic teasing, instilled with a brutal hard edge that would phase him if Tom cared enough about their opinions of him. It doesn’t hurt him when people attack his character or his honour—Tom knows the truth about his life, and he couldn’t give two shits about an outsider’s opinion of him. However, he finds it a lot harder to grin and bear it when the man changes angle.

“Word is, a couple of our guys saw your missus out with Haz the other day,” Toni taunts. “He said they were getting real close if you know what I mean.”

Tom’s jaw flexes. The action is minute, but it doesn’t go undetected. Toni smirks.

“Eh, you don’t like that, do you?” The man steps a little closer and Tom tries to ignore him by looking down at the needle pressing into his fingers. “Don’t like the idea of your best friend hanging around your wife. Can you even trust them?” He breaks off, laughing coolly. “They think you’re so stupid, did you know that? You’ll get out of here, and they’ll have cut you out of everything—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Tom murmurs. He flexes his right hand, shaking out his knuckles. With every passing day, he’s felt tetchier. He can feel his anger burning, churning deep within his stomach, growing brighter, harder. He knows he shouldn’t lean into it, but… He wants to. He craves that rush of the fight, selfishly so.

“But she’s not your wife, is she? You aren’t actually married. Have you ever thought that maybe she’s just using you? Maybe they all are? Look at you, Tom.” Toni breaks off to throw a disdainful hand in Tom’s direction. “You are so weak in here… How are any of your guys going to respect you when their leader can’t even stay out the slammer?”

The guy tattooing Tom’s hand finally pulls away, glancing up at him with knowing in his eyes. “You’re done,” he says. “Don’t do anything with that hand, though.”

“Thanks, man.”

Tom stands up, Toni mirroring him. The man looms in front of him, 6’2 and stocky. He’s larger than Tom in every respect, but he’ll never be the bigger man.

“Get out of my way,” Tom sneers.

“Make me, twat.” Toni smirks. “Or are you too much of a pussy to follow through on that as well?”

Tom sees red. Acting on the edge of adrenaline, he pounces, rushing the man and jumping with so much unexpected force that the larger man goes tumbling to the floor. Tom hears the shouts of the guards, but they pale in comparison to his need to straddle the man’s chest and make him pay. With each meeting of his fist with Toni’s face, Tom feels better. He’s never been an excessively violent person, but old habits die hard, and it’s so, so, so fucking easy to pummel the guy who dared breath an uncomplimentary word in his family’s direction. Tom would put the whole city six feet under if they so much as breathed wrong around his loved ones, so really, Toni had it coming.

The prison guards don’t agree.

He ends up in solitary, and when he’s put back into the normal population, Tom is given restrictions. He isn’t allowed visitors for a fortnight, and his calls are reduced to once a week. All other privileges he’d had are taken away again, and he’s relegated to the very bottom of the pecking order.

It’s still worth it.

When he’s finally allowed visitors again, Tom is surprised to learn that his next meeting isn’t with you or his lawyer. Things only make sense when he shuffles into the meeting room and sees his right-hand man settled in the corner, and if Tom had found the room drab before, it appears even more depressing with the addition of the blond man sitting in it. Harrison sucks the life from the room, any hints of happiness at being reunited with his friend overshadowed by the pinched expression on his face.

The guards don’t let Tom take off his cuffs. He has to sidle into the chair, falling into the heavy silence as he places his hands on the table. Metal links click, and Harrison just stares. He stares, and stares, and stares, his blue eyes almost black.

“So,” Tom eventually says. “Hello.”

Harrison’s jaw twitches. He brings his hands to rest on the top of the table, flexing them as he takes a moment to find the right words. “Tom,” he says, speaking very slowly. “You are a twat.”

He blinks. “Wow,” Tom mutters, chuckling slightly. “Okay. Good to see you too, mate.”

“Do you…” Harrison breaks off, groaning. His forehead develops angry ripples. “Do you understand how detrimental this has been to your case?”

Tom bites his lip, shaking his head slightly.

“You’ve been pushed to the bottom of the pile,” Harrison says, voice controlled but simmering with unspoken anger. “We were about to get your appeal passed for early release.” He sits back, crossing his arms as he shakes his head. “There’s been a penalty applied due to your stint in solitary. Your case won’t be assessed until it’s lifted.”

Tom feels his stomach drop. “Shit,” he mutters. “That’s not ideal.”

“No. No, it’s not.” Harrison sits forward, leaning on his hands. “You are a bloody idiot. Stop acting like a child… Why… Why did you even attack him? You must have known this would happen. Are you stupid?”

He doesn’t like the patronisation in his tone. Tom’s already beat himself up enough about this in solitary. He doesn’t need Harrison questioning his judgements, doesn’t appreciate his friend breathing down his neck so obviously.

“He deserved it,” Tom says firmly. “I would do it again.”

“You can’t. You absolutely cannot.”

“I think you’ll find that I can, Harrison.” There’s a stupid smirk on his lips now. Tom’s missed being a little shit to his friends. He knows it’s not the time, but he’s vibrating. The callous concoction of shame, anger and isolation make him volatile and abrasive. “I’m pretty sure I can do whatever the fuck I want, actually.”

The expression that mars Harrison’s face looks very out of place against his demeanour. The man is in a long black trench coat with a tight grey turtleneck layered beneath it. He has a few pendants hanging from his neck, the gold metal bringing out the warm tones in his curls, mussed in a way that screams of old charm and perfect romance. Harrison’s illusion of control falters only under the pressure of the anger that manifests itself so clearly on his face.

“Tom.” Harrison bangs his fist on the table. The ring wrapped around his pinky clangs against the wood. “You can’t keep this up. If you do, the case gets pushed further, and that is unacceptable.”

Tom scowls. “Well, Haz, last time I checked, I was the one who has to deal with the consequences of my actions. Not you.” He can’t stand the expression of condescension hanging over Harrison’s face. “If I want to throw a few punches, I bloody well will. You have no idea what it’s like in here. No idea at all.”

Harrison’s angered expression fades a little, but only for a moment. When Tom hardens the curve of his eyebrow, Harrison devolves into irritation again, almost snarling as he narrows his eyes. “Your actions affect everyone in your life,” he snaps. “Stop pretending you’re the only one paying for the things that you’ve done.”

“I’m the one with the cuffs, Harrison. I’d say I’m paying considerably more than anyone else.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah? Tell that to the men who had their property searched and their possessions seized. Tell that to your family, who continue to be pulled in for questioning. Tell that to Y/N, who—” he breaks off awfully quickly, cheeks flushing slightly. “Nevermind.”

Tom’s blood goes cold. “Y/N?” he repeats sharply. “What about Y/N?”

“Nothing.”

He sits up straighter. “What about Y/N, Harrison?”

“Nothing.”

Tom is angry now. “Tell me right now or god help me, I will find a way to kill you.”

Harrison rolls his eyes, then covers the movement with a sigh. “I can’t. It isn’t my place.” He seems regretful as he jumps in to add, “she’s fine. She just needs you. We all do.”

The guilt returns. It falls over Tom like a wet blanket, extinguishing his frustration and leaving him cold. “Does she… Does she hate me?” He’s looking down at his cuffs.

“What— no. No, Tom.” Harrison looks guilty for the first time, but at least he isn’t confirming Tom’s deepest insecurities. “Nothing like that at all. Just… Listen to me, alright? You need to behave. I know it’s hard in here, I know that, and I understand it must be frustrating. You just… You can’t let that rule you, Tom. You have to look at the bigger picture. You need to come home, and the sooner the better.”

It’s easier said than done, but he knows Harrison is earnest with it.

“Fine,” Tom grumbles. “I’ll behave.”

Harrison nods. “Thanks, mate,” he mutters. “We all miss you, myself included.” He glances up at him, eyes finally back to the cool blue tones Tom grew up beside. “It isn’t the same without you around.”

Tom manages a tight smile. “I miss you too.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

IT’S BEEN THREE MONTHS since Tom was taken away, and you are miserable.

Every day has been the same. You wake up, nauseous and alone, always on Tom’s side of the bed despite forcing yourself to fall asleep on your own. The mornings are a blur of paperwork and phone calls that follow you into the afternoon. You work around the clock, Harrison, Harry and Sam at your side as you go over Tom’s case, again and again, only stopping when night falls, and one of you throws in the towel.

You had been so close to springing him until he’d gone and got himself demoted to solitary, and there’s not a morning that you don’t think about that. You’d submitted the appeal, stacked full of so much evidence that there was no way the judge would deny him freedom, only for Tom to get into a fistfight the day before the hearing. Just like that, the floor had vanished from beneath your feet.

You’d taken it badly, the others too. Losing Tom to the judge’s gavel had been hard enough, but for his escape to be taken away by his own actions hurt a thousand times worse. You know it’s worse for him, being alone in a cell, but that doesn’t stop the bitterness seeping into your mouth every time you think about the lost chance. Harry and Sam had been incensed, their anger fuelled by the void of a missing brother, and you know Harrison’s frustration comes from similar veins.

Even now that Tom’s served his time in solitary, the frustration lingers on, manifesting itself in the way none of you could decide who should go and visit him first. Under normal conditions, you would’ve been there in a heartbeat, but… Things have been complicated, even without recent events, more so than they’d been when you’d visited two months ago. When Harrison had bitten the bullet and volunteered himself, all of you had been more than happy to let him go.

He’d left this morning, and the house has been quiet ever since.

You’re sitting up in one of the spare rooms as you wait for Harrison to return, your back aching and your mind spinning. You twirl the rings on your fingers as you think, taking turns alternating between your engagement ring and the silver signet rings you’d taken from Tom’s dresser. Keeping him close makes everything easier. You’d take any reminder of him you could get, be that his rings, his shirts, his cologne, or…

The baby.

You shift a hand down to sit on the swell of your belly. Tears prick your eyes as you let them close, a frustrated sigh tumbling past your lips.

You’re four months pregnant, and that throws a spanner in the works.

Sure, you would’ve tried equally as hard to get Tom released under normal conditions, but the biological countdown that has now been sprinkled into the mix has only given everything an air of desperation. Even if it isn’t you vocalising what everyone else is thinking, the fervour to get Tom out before it’s too late is there. You can see it in the way Harrison never lets you go anywhere unaccompanied, and Harry and Sam have been working nonstop to get their brother’s freedom. Everyone around you is aware of how vital Tom’s release is, even when the man himself remains oblivious.

Exhaling gently, you shift around on the cosy armchair. The nursery smells of fading paint, and as you move around, you glance at the messy borders of the walls. The sex of your baby is still a mystery to you, but a few days ago, the twins had freshened up the room with a shade of light green whilst you and Harrison were in court. Neither of them is particularly artistically inclined, but they’d done a pretty decent job, all things considered.

Tom’s family have all been good to you—very kind. You haven’t felt alone, even with half your heart locked away in the outskirts of London. It just hasn’t been the idyllic pregnancy you’d dreamt about with your fiancé.

Guilt falls across you as you look down at the rising swell of your belly.

It’s been hard trying to decide whether or not to tell Tom what you’d tried to come clean about three months ago, down by the Thames. You’d wanted to tell him when you’d gone to visit him, but you couldn’t find the heart to come clean and admit that he’s missing out on the one thing he’s waited for his entire life. Telling him would hurt him immensely, and he’s already hurting being away from you. You don’t want to tell him until he can be part of it, and with that uncertainty present, you’ve kept your lips sealed.

Visiting him today in place of Harrison is all you really wanted to do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’re vulnerable and explosive, and you want to come clean to Tom when the situation is better. There would be nothing worse than storming into that dingy meeting room, flaunting your obvious pregnancy but being too distracted by your anger at your fiancé to explain everything else. You won’t hurt him like that by taunting him with the one thing he wants but can’t have. You refuse to.

All you can do is hope that he forgives you for holding the information back, pray that he understands your motivations, and, above all, hold onto the hope that he’s there when your child comes into the world.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

Blinking yourself from your reverie, you look up through the open door.

“In here, Sam.”

A moment later, Tom’s younger brother appears in the doorway. The man looks as exhausted as you feel, deep shadows hanging beneath his hazel eyes. When he sees you, his mouth pulls into a small smile and he lifts his hand in greeting, and you can tell that he’s trying. You try to match him by sitting up a little straighter and smiling back.

“Hey,” he says. “I was just… bored, I guess. Thought I’d come and check on you.” Doubt briefly flickers across his face. “Is that okay? Are you busy?”

“I’m bored too,” you admit. You stand from the armchair and groan as you stretch your arms, your stiff back aching. “Do you want to do something?”

Sam grins. “Fuck yeah,” he says. “Can we try the mural?”

Wincing, you manage a smile. “Okay… But if it looks terrible, I will paint over it.”

“As if. I’m the artistic one here, Y/N. Just be glad Harry’s still away.”

“Did someone mention me?” Harry’s voice rings through the air, startling you. With a hand clutching your heart, you look to your side in time to see Sam’s twin taking his place at your side. Where Sam is in a shirt and tie, Harry is clad in a pair of deep denim dungarees. He offers you a rusty smile. “We’re just filling in these lines, yeah?”

Sam’s the one to nod. He gestures at the wall and you notice the faint outlines, scratched in pencil. “Be precise,” he informs, “it took me bloody ages sketching it.”

Harry rolls his eyes, shooting you a silent smirk. “Yes, sir,” he mutters. “Anything you want, sir.”

“Fuck off.”

Harry pulls a face. “Well,” he says, looking at you pointedly, “I hope you’re keeping a record of how many times Sam is swearing around the baby, Y/N.”

Brows furrowing, you pick up a paintbrush. “Why would I be doing that?”

The ginger grins. “Just betters my case for being the better uncle,” he says.

“Oh, what? Don’t you mean the boring uncle?” Sam chides, bristling beside you.

Harry laughs. “I will be the favourite uncle. I don’t care what you say, Sammy. Both of us know it.”

Rolling your eyes at the argument you’ve heard a thousand times before, you give them both a nudge. “Shh,” you plead. “Paint, don’t fight.”

Sam shoots you a soft smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

With a smile lingering on your lips, you watch as Harry puts on one of his playlists, then relax as the three of you get to work. None of you say anything, but the air is full enough—tickled to life with Sam’s quiet whistling and the sound of paintbrushes thick against the wall. You concentrate on the intricate details of the mural, like the outlines of the clouds and the spirals of the grass, and marvel at how wonderful it is to be so content in silence. It’s indicative of how tight your bond has grown, you think.

No longer despising solitude, you’ve found a comfortable middle ground around the men. You and Tom’s inner circle have learned to work together well, stringing together complex case files as you’ve organised accounts. Nothing you’ve been doing recently is legal, but you would’ve left a long time ago if you genuinely cared about the law. You can stomach a few fixed accounts if it means Tom gets to walk free—you can stomach a whole lot more than that, actually, for Tom. You’d set the whole world on fire just to see him smile.

Like the splotchy mural covering the walls, your team has got the job done. Your case for the court is watertight, if a little messy, but you know it’ll be enough to spring Tom. It has to be. You need him, and your child needs him. Everyone in the house needs him.

“Guys? Where are you?” Harrison’s voice joins the mix just as you’re stretching up to flick a few rays of gold into the sun. Harry is at your feet, crouching on the balls of his feet as he tries to paint a few red flowers to the sprigs of grass.

“Nursery,” Harry calls out.

A few moments later, Harrison joins you. You fail to meet his eyes as the focused man sweeps into the room, billowing coat swirling around his feet. His expression is terse as he jerks off his jacket and grabs a paintbrush, dipping the tip in a bit of sky blue paint before standing at the end. You don’t rush him. He’s vibrating with something, his face flushed and his eyes dark, so you give him space.

A few minutes pass, illustrated by Harry’s playlist and the colours of the rainbow. Just when you’re beginning to worry, Harrison speaks.

“Tom is an idiot,” he states, drawing a laugh from one of the twins.

You bite your lip. “Did you explain?” you ask.

Harrison nods. He glances at you, and you note the fleck of purple paint pressed into the pale arc of his cheek. “He said he wouldn’t do it again,” he tells you. “He was angry, though. I think he’s having a bad time.”

Harry hums. “It’s hard in there,” he mumbles. “Was he still himself?”

The blond nods. “Yeah,” he says. “As snarky as ever.”

Sam smirks. “That’s Tom, alright.”

“Good news, though,” Harrison adds. “I went to the courthouse on my way back.”

“Oh?” You look away from your cloud, your heart skipping a beat. “And?”

“And,” Harrison continues, a semblance of a smile twitching across his lips, “I submitted the appeal again. They said they’d probably process it next week. So, if things go according to plan this time, he might be out by next Friday.”

You almost drop your paintbrush. Eyes widening, you turn to face him properly. “Wait, really?”

Harrison’s expression softens. “Yeah.” He puts his paintbrush down, tugging yours from your fingers as if he can tell you’re close to dropping it. “He’s almost out, Y/N.”

Relief spills across you, uncontrollable and overwhelming. Closing your eyes before those easy tears can fall down your cheeks, you step closer and push your way into Harrison’s embrace. He’s ready and waiting for the action, eager to comfort his friend.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Harrison’s chest is warm, and though his hugs aren’t as good as Tom’s, you’ve come to rely on them. You’ve come to rely on all of them. “That’s amazing news.”

“Mhmm.” He squeezes you. “This nightmare is almost over.”

“Thanks, man,” Harry speaks up. You pull away from Harrison’s hold when you hear the quivering tones in his voice, quickly glancing to the man to find him glassy-eyed and flushed. Biting your lip, you extend a hand towards him.

A group hug unfolds, as it’s had the tendency to do since Tom was taken away. The first time had been stoic and cool, with frozen elbows and embarrassed shuffling, but slowly, each one of them has loosened. They’re tough men, burdened and hard, but love ties them to you, and at your request, you know they’d do anything for you. You also know that they all enjoy the physical comfort more than they’d ever let on.

It’s been hard without Tom, and you’d do anything to have him back, but if there’s anything his absence has taught you, it’s that his brothers have become your brothers as his best friend has become your own, and you’ve never really been alone.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tom’s release day comes quickly, hidden behind the retrial and the quick-paced days in court. It’s busy at the trial, and spaces are limited, so Harry and Sam attend in place of you and Harrison. You get them to take in a few letters for Tom and pass on your condolences for your absence, but you don’t allow yourself to get too hung up on it. When Tom’s release is announced, the weight that rolls from your shoulders is immediate.

As you wait outside the prison, you try to find solace in the rays of the mid-afternoon sun. It’s quiet in the car park, allowing you to ruminate in peace, and though you’re comfortable resting against the bonnet of Tom’s car, your thoughts are far from restful.

Anxiety weighs heavily in your chest, mixing with your excitement and creating a volatile concoction. You find yourself pacing, biting back your nerves as you try to reason with yourself. Draped around your shoulders is a long coat that obscures your bump, chosen as you’ve decided you don’t want to overwhelm Tom with too many things at once. You hope it does the job. The coat twitches in the wind as you walk, noisy and obnoxious.

Things around you are still until there’s a sudden, loud buzzing noise from the prison compound. You jerk your head around to see two men leaving the main building, small in the distance but gradually growing larger. They’re still enclosed in the fenced courtyard, but they’re on their way to the exit, and every rational thought you have flies from your mind as you see him. Tom. Your Tom.

He’s in the clothes he’d been arrested in—red shirt, black slacks, shiny shoes. Looped around his hands is his Rolex and his rings. Tom seems almost identical to how he’d been on that cursed day, just his head is buzzed and he looks a little smaller. He’s carrying himself with confidence, though, and when he looks fervently around the car park and spots you, his entire face swells with happiness. The sight of that large, lovely smile hanging from his lips brings immediate warmth to your eyes.

Every breath is easier now you have him in your sights. Overwhelming love gluts your insides, warm and emotive, choking you up. It takes everything in you to stay still as you wait for Tom to finish talking with his guard, a tall man you recognise from all of his stories, Luther. Tom’s smirking in a way that’s obviously infuriating, and the guard doesn’t hesitate to give him a light punch as your boyfriend saunters out of prison, leaving the compound with a swagger to his stride and a smile the size of Saturn.

The sight of Tom jogging towards you breaks you from your reverie, and you push yourself away from the car to meet him somewhere in the middle. Nothing matters until you’re colliding with his front, finding warmth in his arms, feeling his entire body shake as his tears fall into your hair. Nothing matters unless it’s him.

“I missed you so much,” you whisper. Your grip on the back of Tom’s shirt is hard, a violent sprawling across your knuckles, but you won’t let go. You’re giddy with love. “Fuck, Tom, I missed you so, so much.”

You pull away from his chest and look into his eyes, your lower lip wobbling as you note the fresh tears on his face. You use your thumbs to brush beneath his cheeks, flicking away the tears as you clean up his handsomeness.

“I missed you so much more,” he promises. Tom brings a hand to rest on the back of your head, breath hitching as he meets your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He kisses you, and it’s so intense you end up pressed against the side of the car. Tom moans with relief as he strokes his fingers over the side of your face, delicately reacquainting his lips with yours as they meet again and again. You keep your hands gliding over his back, his arms, his shoulders, letting your tongues come together as tears flow down your cheeks. The kiss is everything and nothing, familiar and new. The kiss says I missed you. It says I thought about you every day. It says I would wait a thousand dawns if it meant I got to wake up beside you again, but thank fucking god you’re here right now because I missed you more than I ever thought was possible.

“Baby,” Tom murmurs. He pulls away but keeps your foreheads pressed together, the cool tip of his nose brushing yours. “You’re so perfect. I missed you so much that it hurt me.”

He tries to move closer, but you become aware of the pressure to your belly, so bring a gentle hand to push his shoulder away. Hurt immediately floods to his eyes, his expression twitching as Tom takes a few steps back.

“Tom,” you say, voice soft. “I need to tell you something.”

Tom’s jaw twitches. “What is it?” he whispers.

“A good thing,” you clarify. You reach up to wipe the residue of your tears away, then bring your hands down to the tie of your jacket. Biting your lip, you take a steadying breath. “I hope you aren’t angry that I didn’t tell you sooner,” you preface, “but I did it for you.”

Tom nods intensely. “Okay,” he says. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s fine. I’m… I’m here, okay? For anything. It’s me and you. Just… me and you forever.”

A smile flickers across your face. “Me and you, and…” You gently open the front of your coat, then reach out for Tom’s hands. Guiding them slowly, you bring the warmth of his palms to rest on the rise of your bump.

“Wait…” Tom shifts his hands around your belly before staring up at you, slack-jawed. He doesn’t try to hide the obvious tears in his eyes. “You’re…?”

Nodding your head is easier than trying to speak.

“Oh god.” Tom sniffles. “What?” He immediately drops to his knees in front of you, his fancy dress trousers getting dirty in the dust. “How— how far along?”

“Almost five months,” you whisper. “I found out right before you got back from Liverpool. I was going to tell you when we went on that date, but…”

“But I fucked up.” Tom sounds wrecked, his aching eyes fixed on the curve of your belly. “I fucked everything up. I… I left you alone for this entire time, and you had to do this all without me.” He rests his forehead against your bump, very, very gently, and you see him close his eyes. “I am a terrible partner.”

Rolling your fingers over the scruff of his hair, you guide him up to look at you. It’s second nature as you roll a thumb over his cheekbone, trying to instil the action with love and reassurance.

“I’m not angry,” you tell him. “You didn’t know, and you didn’t get arrested on purpose. If anything, you should be angry at me for keeping this a secret.” Your teeth catch your lower lip. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I thought telling you would only make things worse. I’m sorry.”

Tom shakes his head. “No, no. Don’t apologise.” He rests a hand on your leg, the other still on the curve of your front. “I’m sorry.” He drops his voice and looks at the bump. “And I’m sorry to you too, little one.” He nudges his mouth forward and deposits a soft kiss to your stomach. “I love you too.”

Digging one of your hands into your coat pocket, you pull out a photo. “Here,” you urge, handing it to your boyfriend. Tom takes it after a moment, his eyes slow to move away from your front.

He releases a noise somewhere between an exclamation and a choke, nimble fingers gripping the image from your ultrasound. His cheeks flush a brilliant rose.

“When was this?” he whispers.

“At three months,” you reply. You continue to run your hand over the top of his head, trying to soothe him as he absorbs so much information at once. “I went with my mum and Haz.”

“Haz?”

You nod. “Harry and Sam lost a bet.”

Tom hums. He looks between the photo and your bump, then nudges forward to kiss the rise again. His lips are so warm you can feel them through the material of your dress. “Have they been looking after you well enough?”

A light laugh slips past your lips. “Yeah,” you promise. “They helped so much, Tom. It was hard at first… Really hard. Especially when we thought you’d be in there for five years, but… Things worked out.” You have to pause to gather your thoughts. “We converted one of the rooms into a nursery. There’s still stuff left to do, and we can do that together, of course, but… They were all really helpful.”

“Good.” Tom looks up at you, still kneeling, and your hand slips down to cup his face. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “I wish I could’ve been here for all of this.”

Shrugging gently, you squeeze his face. “You can be here for the rest of it,” you promise. “And, I guess… If we have another one, you’ll be there for all of that, right?”

“Of course, darling.” You smile as Tom tilts his lips to knock against the side of your palm.

“So it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Chuckling softly, you nod. “Yes,” you promise. “I love you, and I’m so happy this has happened for us, even if the timing was difficult.” Feeling yourself well up, you exhale slowly. “We’re going to be parents, Tom. Isn’t that crazy?”

“It’s brilliant.” Tom’s eyes sparkle. “I’m going to be a father.” He blinks. “What the fuck.”

Laughing, you move your hands to the crown of his head. “Yeah, it’ll take a while to get used to that.”

“I’ll get there,” he states. Tom returns his attention to the bump. “Hey, little one,” he coos, voice all silk and amber tones, “it’s going to be the biggest honour of my life being your dad.”

Tom spends a while at your feet, speaking softly to you and your bump, and you keep your hand resting on the back of his head. He’s weary when he finally climbs to his feet but regains some of that spark when you step forward to kiss him. You don’t mean to make it as heated as you do, but it hasn’t only been your heart that’s missed Tom. You’ve craved him, constantly, during every single lonely night, and now that he’s here, you’re willing to take everything you can get.

“I love you,” you say, hushed against his mouth.

Tom’s teeth brush over your lower lip, and you moan when he tugs. There’s a fervour to it, hot lust burning through sensitive emotions. He releases your lip and pulls back to stare at you, his eyes rippling darker.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. He brings his hands to your waist, pulling you closer. “I love everything about you.”

Your mouths come back together, and it’s messier than before, your lips wettening as your kisses become wilder. Tongues dance and teeth clash as your body temperature starts to rise. Now you’ve moved through the emotional reunion, you’re left with an underlying pulse—a heat throbbing persistently between your legs. The fire builds as you hear Tom’s grunts and feel the desperation in his hands when they grab at your sides and jerk you closer, his mouth devouring yours until your lips are puffy and tender. You’re greedy, chasing more, desiring everything you’ve missed out on in the months you’ve been apart from your lover.

“Darling,” Tom murmurs, breaking the kiss to whisper hotly against your lips, “I missed you, but if you keep this up, we’re not going to get home.”

Desire takes hold of you. “Who said I wanted to go home?” You push in closer, shifting slightly until you’re able to feel the hardness of his crotch pressing up against your thigh. The familiarity of it all makes you inhale sharply. You drop your tone, trying to seem coy as you speak, “I don’t think you understand how badly I needed you whilst you were away, Tom. I missed you.”

The tips of his teeth glint as he arches his brows. “Well…” Tom mumbles. “I owe you about four months of lost opportunities.” He swallows, briefly breaking from the lust-filled headspace to look guilty. You smooth it away by reaching down to squeeze at his hands. “If my radiantly stunning fiancé decides she wants me to start repenting for that now, then who am I to stop her?”

Rolling your eyes, you step away from the car. “You’re a suck-up,” you taunt. You plant a light kiss to his lips. “C’mon,” you urge. “The car.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “The backseat?” he teases. “Shit, angel. You must be desperate.”

Warmth tickles your face. “Shut up.”

Tom smirks deviously. “It’s okay,” he soothes. He darts forward to open the car door for you, resting his hand on your lower back as you step forward. “I’m just as desperate as you, baby.”

“I hate you,” you murmur. Tom follows you into the car, shutting the door behind you both. You wait for him to sit before straddling his lap, your legs stretching until you have a shin planted on either side of his thighs. The position is comfortable, with enough space between your bump and his chest for you to breath, and you whimper as Tom bends nearer to ghost his lips over yours.

“No, you don’t,” he murmurs.

You want to tease him, but you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You’re alright with too much adoration to even think about pressing it down.

“I really don’t,” you agree.

Tom makes a soft noise of vindication, the tip of his nose brushing yours for just a moment until he’s bearing down and bringing your lips together. You sigh, reaching up and urging him closer. His lips are lovely, and you enjoy kissing them for a while, but then you find yourself distracted by the open expanse of his neck. With his hair buzzed, you’re keenly aware of his throat, pale and sensitive, and if there’s one thing you remember about your boyfriend, it’s his affinity for lovebites.

You bring your lips to the side of his neck, nuzzling your mouth against the long, pale stretch of his throat. Smirking against his skin, you start to suckle deep hickeys against the side of his neck, revelling in the throaty gasps Tom deposits into the air in response.

“Fuck, darling,” Tom whines. He has a hand on your back, urging you closer. When you graze the tips of your teeth against his skin, he whimpers. “Shit. More.”

“More?” you tease. “Forgotten all your manners, Tom?”

He growls. The hand on your back shifts to the back of your head, and he jerks you ever closer. He’s still mindful, especially of the bump laying between you, but he knows just as well as you that you aren’t a piece of porcelain; you like being tugged around. You’ve missed it.

“Give me what I want, and maybe I’ll return the favour.” He says it like you’re oblivious to the desperation in his words. You decide to oblige him.

“Okay,” you murmur. You look up to meet his gaze, his honey-brown eyes full of appreciation. For a moment, it knocks you off balance. It’s so strange readjusting to having Tom back—almost overwhelming to be able to touch someone who had existed only in your memories for so many weeks. You drop your head and give him what he wants.

Tom’s skin tastes clean, and it smells distantly of pinecones. He groans, fisting at your hair and holding you close as you kiss and suck along his skin, drawing deep hues to the surface of his neck. He shifts in his seat, basking in the pain and whining every time you soothe a fresh mark with the warmth of your tongue. You keep your hand resting on his hair, the cropped length of his buzz prickly and coarse beneath the pads of your fingertips.

“Oh god yeah,” he murmurs, voice mingling with the wet noises coming from your lips. “Your mouth is so fucking good, baby. I missed it.” Grunting, he brings a hand to your waist, squeezing the flesh of your hips hard. “I thought about you all the time in there.”

Tom releases his hold on your hair and begins to stroke his hands over your back. As you continue to mark his neck, he starts to tease you, gradually dropping the heat of his palms lower and lower. You can’t stop yourself from bucking down into his hold, moaning against his neck as he grabs handfuls of your ass.

“Tom,” you break off to whimper, panting softly. You feel dizzy on the taste of his skin. “You’re being mean.”

“Mean?” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “How am I being mean?” Tom squeezes the curves of your figure, his slender fingers warm against your skin. You’re in a dress, the material thin, and he doesn’t hesitate to curve his hands beneath the hem and bring them to rest over your panties. “You’re the one who wanted to come in here and get your hands all over me… I’m doing what you asked.” He breaks off, chuckling darkly. “That’s not how things usually work, though, is it?”

The air between you shifts.

You pull away from Tom’s neck, your mouth inflamed and throbbing. You have to dig your teeth into your lower lip to muffle your whimper when Tom brings a hand to the front of your legs, gently brushing two of his long fingers over the front of your panties. He’s teasing with it, eyes alight with deviousness, jaw set in a determined line.

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Maybe I want to be in charge this time.”

Tom laughs gently. “Oh, yeah?” He rubs your cunt a little faster, causing you to suck in a sharp breath as you feel the delicate pressure on your clit. The contact makes your passage clench, growing wet enough to dampen the front of your panties. “So you don’t like this, hmm? You don’t want me to follow through on everything I have planned for you?”

“What have you got planned?”

He tuts. “Oh, I’m not going to tell you, angel. That’d be too easy. Either you want me to be in charge, or you decide to call the shots.” Tom smirks as he feels you buck down against his hand. Maybe if the circumstances were different, you’d find the strength to push back, but you don’t. It’s been so long, and your cunt is weeping already just from the husky tones in his voice.

“You’re in charge,” you whisper. The vindicated smirk he flashes in response is enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Damn right, baby.” Tom moves his hands away, pressing them to your waist instead. “Can you lay down for me, please?”

You shuffle across the car seat as instructed, Tom shifting until he’s kneeling in the footwell of the backseats. It’s a good thing the car is obscenely huge, otherwise, the already-cramped fit would be unworkable.

Draping your legs over Tom’s shoulders, he pushes the hem of your dress up, bunching it just above your bump. The hungry fire in his eyes fades slightly.

“Is this okay? Are you comfy?”

“It’s fine,” you soothe. “Are you okay down there?”

Tom nods. The scruff of his buzzed head scratches against your inner thighs. “I’m bloody perfect,” he responds. “Can I touch you?”

“Please do.”

The tip of his nose nuzzles against your covered clit. “Perfect,” Tom purrs, his breath hot against your panties. “I think it’s time I remind you who owns this fucking pussy… As hot as it was when you were trying to tell me what to do, it’s not on.” He brings his mouth away from your core, and you whimper as his tongue laps gently across your thigh, the muscle deliciously slippery. “I’m the one calling the shots.”

You’re throbbing, every inch of you aching for his touch. The burn is visceral—pulsing, wet. “Yes, sir,” you return. Tom’s eyes snap to yours. “Do whatever you want.”

“Say please.”

Swallowing the dryness in your throat, you add, “please.”

“Good, baby. You sound so pretty begging for me.” Tom easily pulls your panties down your legs, returning to push your thighs further apart. He brings both of his thumbs to your sensitive lips, humming when you whimper. Using the pads of his fingers, he gently parts your centre, groaning softly at the sight. “Say it,” he murmurs, entranced by the paradise between your legs. “Tell how badly you want me.”

He’s incredibly infuriating, but you play right into his hand. “Please, Tom,” you whine. “Please touch me.”

He hums. “Of course, lovie,” he murmurs. He glances up at you. “All you had to do was ask.”

The first touch of his tongue against your slit makes your eyes roll back. A breathless whine slips past your lips as his mouth envelops your clit, the strong tip of his tongue nuzzling over your sensitive skin in a way you’ve only dreamed of. You’ve been able to get off in his absence, but nothing can simulate the sizzling heat of his mouth and his tongue, nor the scratching of his short hair against your fleshy inner thighs.

The way he unravels you is obscene, toned with the sounds of spit and lazy lips, the sensations of desperation. Tom devours you, using his elbows to push your thighs apart as he buries his face as close to your centre as possible. You can barely see him over the rise of your belly, but you can certainly feel him. When you start to grind down against his face, things only escalate, your eyes fluttering shut as your spine arches in response to his feverish movements.

“Oh god,” he murmurs, voice thick as it vibrates across you. “Missed this… Tastes so fucking good, sweetheart.”

Your high rolls over you suddenly and without warning, manifesting itself in a silent cry as your body goes rigid. You hear Tom hum in surprise, then feel his hands lock around your thighs, holding back your legs as they shake in the face of absolute pleasure.

“Sorry,” you pant, recovering gradually, “I didn’t know that was going to happen then.”

Tom runs his tongue over your slit, still sensitive and throbbing. “‘S okay, lovie,” he replies, voice warm. He nuzzles in closer and brings two slender fingers to push against your entrance. Your hole is hot and pulsing, pooled with your arousal. You hear it pucker as he gently presses against your cunt, teasing your entrance with his fingertips. “I’m not done making it up to you, though. Is that okay?”

Exhaling, you nod quickly. “Fuck yeah,” you say, struggling to think. “Oh.”

He slips two fingers into you, your eager walls parting and welcoming him in. Tom removes his mouth from your heat and replaces his tongue with the pad of a thumb, and when you release a loud noise of strangled enjoyment, he begins to crook his fingers into you. He strokes his digits against your walls with poise and elegance, nudging up against your g-spot and stroking, again and again, chasing the noises you release.

“So pretty,” he coos. “My pretty baby. Making all those beautiful noises.” Tom smiles almost proudly. His chin is wet with your arousal. “I love your cunt… Look at how well it's taking me.” To prove his point, he feeds a third finger alongside the others. “So greedy for me, eh? Greedy little pussy. So hot. So wet. God…”

Tom drops his head again, disappearing from your sight of vision. You moan, body jerking as you feel his tongue move around his fingers, catching the arousal that seeps from your pussy as he works you open. He releases an obscene moan before dragging his mouth to your clit, stimulating you with his hands and tongue in tandem.

“Holy fuck,” you whimper. You feel hot in the best way, your skin becoming sweaty as you writhe over the leather seat. “Feels so good, Tommy.” It feels like heaven—especially when he bends his fingers and the tips of them stroke up against your sensitive spot. “‘M gonna cum again.”

“Already?”

“Yeah.”

Tom chuckles. “I’m so good at this,” he murmurs. “Go on, angel. Don’t hold back on my account… You’re so pretty when you cum.”

The tide breaks, and your climax rolls across you, legs trembling as Tom holds you in place. You writhe as you bask in the heat, your knuckles losing blood as you clench your hands into hard fists. The press of your nails against the soft flesh of your palms hurts, but you don’t care. It feels far too good to think about anything beyond Tom.

You ride it out, and Tom eventually draws his face away from your clit. He kisses along your inner thighs as you gasp for air, only removing his fingers when you start to whimper. As good as the climaxes have felt, panting for breath on the backseat, it isn’t enough. It isn’t enough by far.

“Get up here,” you say breathlessly.

Tom chuckles as he appears from between your legs. He gives your thighs a little tap before he closes your legs, wriggling out of the footwell as you sit up. Easily, like you’ve done a thousand times before, you swing a leg over Tom’s lap, straddling him when he sits with his back against the car seat.

“Are you okay up there?” he checks, bringing his clean hand to rest on the curve of your stomach. When you nod, his brown eyes darken. “Perfect…” he hums. “Clean off my fingers, will you?”

You nod, opening your mouth expectantly and moaning as Tom slips three of his fingers between your lips. Fighting your smirk, you maintain eye contact with him, your pride swelling as you see his cheeks darken. He gently fucks his fingers into your mouth, making you moan at the movements and the taste of your heat as it spreads across your tongue. He’s messy with it, and you feel your lips and chin grow heavy from spittle.

“Pretty,” he coos, “so, so pretty.”

Tom goes to move his fingers from your mouth, only for a detail to make you pause. Eyes straining, you reach up to catch his wrist, holding his hand in place just as his fingers pull away from your lips.

“What’s this?” you query, narrowing your eyes. You drag Tom’s left hand nearer your face, gasping softly as you take note of a new tattoo resting at the bottom of his ring finger.

“Oh.” Tom shifts around slightly, biting at his lower lip. “I got your initials tattooed… When we get married, the ring will cover them, but I wanted you with me—I want you with me—all the time, even without a bit of metal.” He hesitates. “Is that okay?”

You press a delicate kiss across the letters. “Yes,” you say. You feel shy as you meet the eyes of the man who loves you so immensely. “That’s really, really sweet, Tom.” You bite your lip as you look up at him. “Gone soft on me, baby?”

“‘M always soft on you,” he says gruffly, guiding a hand to your face. He brings you closer, encouraging you to lean higher on your knees. “Love of my life, angel. You know that… My wife.”

You shift on his lap, smiling bashfully. “I’m not your wife yet.”

“Soon, soon, soon,” he whispers.

Both of you come together, no words needing to be exchanged for you to know what to do. Tom loses his clothes as you sit up a little straighter, one of your hands curling around the headrest of a seat as Tom angles himself slightly. With the rise of your bump between you, you aren’t able to be flushed together like times before, but the man beneath you is quick to readjust so he’s laying further back, giving you plenty of room to move in a way that’s comfortable. He kisses over your knuckles as you run his hard cock through your slit, his interested eyes fixed firmly on the sight of his length as you finally begin to move down.

The moment the head of his cock pushes into you feels indescribable. The ache of the stretch falls away as relief pours over you, the closeness satisfying far more than just your arousal.

“Gentle, gentle,” Tom murmurs, hand resting on your belly. “Be careful.”

You chuckle, beginning to move but only slowly. “It’s okay,” you reassure him, “it won’t hurt them.” Your eyes roll back slightly as you bring your hand down to rest on Tom’s shoulder, moaning quietly. “You can move too… Please, move.”

“Okay, darling.” Tom gently starts to move his hips. He groans as he slumps back against the seat, beautiful face coloured light pink. You’d missed the expressions he makes, how emotive the slants of his features can be. His nostrils flare and his jaw tenses as you ride him, your cunt so wet the movements are almost effortless. “That feels… so good.” His voice is hollow, gutless. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been thinking about you. You, and your hot cunt.” He moans again, unable to sit around the words. Tom ruts into you a little harder, guiding you to move faster with the hand on your hip. “Taking me so well, darling. So fucking well. I’m not going to last at all.”

“That’s okay,” you murmur. “I won’t either.”

Tom manages a lazy smirk. He opens his eyes as he brings a hand to your clit, teasing the sensitive bud with his thumb. You jerk a little at the stimulation but start to ease into it, basking in the pleasure from the bud and Tom’s cock. He’s buried deep within you, pressing your walls apart, the curved tip of his head brushing deeper than you’ve felt in months.

“So tight,” he murmurs. Tom leans back, clearly enjoying the sight of you riding him. “My darling. You look so beautiful like this… I swear your tits are bigger, too.” The hand on your belly gently caresses the bump, Tom’s tongue briefly wandering out to wet his lower lip. “Look at how beautiful you are… I can’t wait to knock you up again.”

Stifling a moan, it takes everything in you to focus on your movements. “You feel so good, Tom,” you whimper, unable to hold back the praise he loves to hear. “I missed this so much.”

“I know, baby. I missed this too… Come on, now.” His voice hardens slightly. “I’m about to cum, but I don’t want to unless you’re right here beside me. So… will you be a good girl and finish with me? Please?”

Heat flushes through your system as you bounce your head quickly. Your eyes close, breath hitching as you feel your climax rise. It starts in the pit of your stomach, a coil pulling tighter and tighter until it bends and snaps, bursting wide and spilling pleasure across your body in warm waves of enjoyment. You cry out as you fall apart, holding Tom’s shoulder tightly as his hand clamps around your waist. You feel him mirror you, hear his loud groan as his cock pulses inside you, your movements unceasing as you ride it out together.

It ends, but you stay joined. Tom sits up, the distance put between you by your belly requiring him to stretch closer and seize your lips in a smouldering kiss. His hand returns to your cheek, yours to his, and the look in his eyes is dizzying.

“I love you so much,” he speaks, words soft like a promise. “Everything I do from here on out is for you, and…” He glances back at your stomach. “And our child.” Words thickening, you see Tom’s eyes well with tears again. He chuckles, cheeks flushing red. “Sorry,” he adds. “I get a bit choked up thinking about it.”

You stroke your fingers over the back of his hair, spiky strands smooth against your hand. “Don’t apologise for expressing your emotions, baby,” you whisper. “It’s been a very long day.”

Tom nods. “Love you,” he murmurs again. He nuzzles his head into the palm of your hand, his eyes closing.

“I love you too,” you say, words truer than they’ve ever been before. You bend down to kiss his forehead. “Do you want to go home now?”

He hums. “Y/N,” he whispers. Tom blinks up at you, eyes soft. He catches the palm of your hand with a few kisses as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m already home.”

Teeth grazing your lower lip, you hold back your smile as you marvel at how clichéd he’s become. You bend down and kiss him very gently. “Sap,” you murmur. “Love you, though.”

Tom pulls a face. He rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice—only love. “Love you too,” he says. “Yes, though,” he adds, “I would love to go home.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

finis

yay

that’s probably a wrap on mob!tom ! i don’t have any more fic ideas for him :( that being said, this was a lot of fun to write, and i really, really hope you liked it :D ik the theme isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so if you read it all, i love you very very much

please let me know if you have any thoughts!!

masterlist through the link in my bio <3

#tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #mob!tom x reader #mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland smut #y/n #self insert #smut #mob!tomfic

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