#Because I want to find a reel I watched where a guy dressed as an elf pretended to be a shopkeep where y/n stumbles in wounded

[obesecamels]

.

[aurumacadicus]

Anyway I saw a commercial where Don Cheadle runs a speakeasy.

--

"Tony, my bar is opening tonight and my piano player has food poisoning," Jim stated when he found him in the living room of his penthouse, watching a basketball game.

Tony blinked at him, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. "I can flush him with Pedialyte?"

"This isn't college. Also I already left him a case and a credit card in case his girlfriend has to take him to get an IV," Jim answered with a blasé shrug. He reached over the back of the couch to grab his hair and give him a gentle shake. "I understand you're still reeling from your breakup but I need a favor. You must have dated at least one person who can play jazz on the piano."

"Stop wobbling me I'm full of chips," Tony grumbled, lifting his hand to slap Jim's arm. "And no, I didn't. I'm the piano player in my relationships."

Jim paused, then began shaking him with more fervor. "HOW COME YOU NEVER PLAYED FOR ME."

"There wasn't a piano in our dorm I will throw up on you," Tony snapped, smacking his arm again. "Also??? I was adorable in school I would have hogged all the girls."

"It's so annoying that you're right," Jim huffed, allowing himself to be brushed off. He looked around the penthouse, then pointed at the piano next to the window, which he'd always thought was just there either to impress Tony's dates or because rich people just owned pianos. "Show me what you can do."

"I don't want to go to your speakeasy opening," Tony complained, even as he stood and brushed his hands off on his sweatpants. "I want to wallow in finding my ex-boyfriend fucking my ex-girlfriend in my bed. I was supposed to propose tonight. You're getting George Gershwin."

"Oh no," Jim deadpanned. "A way to get your mind off of that guy I hated anyway while getting me to owe you a favor."

Tony paused, slanting him a look out of the corner of his eye. His fingers hovered over the piano keys. "...You'll owe me a favor?" he repeated.

"A big one," Jim confirmed, and couldn't help a relieved smile as Tony's fingers danced along the keys in response, Rhapsody in Blue vibrating out from the piano's body. "Wear that pinstripe number. You'll never have to buy yourself a drink."

--

Most of the patrons were by invite. Jim had wanted to show the place off to his friends first, now that it was finished. A themed bar wasn't the safest bet in any economy, and he wanted them to be able to enjoy it before he had to start stressing about finances. And military people never needed an excuse to drink.

Tony's favor had involved inviting a few of his rich friends, though, and with the selfies Janet Van Dyne and Johnny Storm were posting online, Jim figured he'd be set for a few years, especially when Jan grabbed his hands and sparkled at him about how she'd be coming at least once a week to show off new flapper dresses. (He was still unsure as to how she "sparkled" at him, but it was an adjective he'd gotten from Tony and it was the only really apt one.) They kept dropping fifties in the tip jar, too, which only made his bartenders more cheerful and willing to act in their roles.

Luckily, the higher class clientele were balanced out with Jim's pals from the military. Carol and Maria had already said their goodbyes (Monica had an event early the next morning) but as the air force left, the army rolled in, and he welcomed the Howling Commandoes in with only a little teasing.

"Jim," Natasha said, appearing beside him between one breath and another, despite the beads on her dress tinkling musically with each step. "Why is Bucky lying to people that his food poisoning miraculously ended. And why did he give me five hundred dollars to shut up about him not having food poisoning."

Jim sighed. He should have known that Bucky would have gotten dragged here regardless of his "illness" with friends like the Commandoes. "I needed to get Tony out of the house but I knew he'd only do it if I needed help. Today was the first time he showered in a week."

"I see. Well, I've just gotten May and Happy together," Natasha said ominously. "And Pepper is well on her way to realizing Phil is asking her out. I could use a new project. Steve is also single."

"I really don't want Tony dating right after he found his cheating ex-boyfriend in his bed with someone else," Jim began.

"Don't worry, Steve is stupidly loyal even to people he's not dating and will punch Tiberius Stone in the teeth if he ever sees him," Natasha assured him, and floated halfway across the room as Jim gave her an astonished blink.

Well. Jim couldn't say he didn't want to see that. He drifted over to the piano, where Tony was still diligently playing Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton. "You need a break, bud? You've been playing for two hours straight."

"Rhodey," Tony slurred happily, and it made Jim suddenly aware of the rows of martini glasses on the side of the piano. "This is so much fun. Is it okay if my tips go to charity. I can't feel my hands."

Bucky appeared a moment later, cheerfully shouldering him aside. "I'll take over, fella," he said, giving Jim a wink, and hip-checked Tony off of the piano bench and directly into Jim's arms.

"Was that hot or am I sad and drunk?" Tony asked. He squinted at Bucky blearily. "Am I sad and looking for anything to be hot. Or was that actually hot."

Reluctantly, Jim answered, "No, it was hot, but Bucky's taken." He pulled Tony's arm over his shoulders. "Let's get some water in you, okay?"

"Okay but I promised Jan I'd play her out because of drama and panache," Tony wobbled, allowing Jim to tow him over to the dark, moody sitting area. "Is this a secret door? Oh my God yay," he added as Jim pulled a bookcase open to reveal a back room where he could rest without excitement.

Jim had intended for it to be a room for private parties, but letting his friends sober up in it tonight would be fine, probably. Especially if Tony was going to be drunk and cute about it. "What is Jan going to have you play?"

"'Let's Misbehave,'" Tony slurred, and Jim sighed fondly, because of course she was.

[castianii]

my Ninjago headcanons!!!!

Kai

• Is TikTok famous. He likes to put his camera in everyone’s face while they do normal everday things then says “ooh this is perfect, everyone will love this!!” and then everyone does love it.

• Spends most of his time trying to annoy his teammates. He finds it funny how easily Nya gets ticked off, so he annoys her most often. ex) going into her room and just singing really loud.

• Thinks Tarayummy is his soulmate. He sits in his room in the dark and just watches her videos. He has a hatred for every man she has ever talked to.

Nya

• Says she hates dressing up/wearing dresses, but at night she secretly puts on pretty ball gowns she hides in boxes in her closet. (I do this)

• Loves art, but she mostly paints. She picked it up after seeing the paintings Jay did after seabound. He taught her a lot of it.

• Anytime she sees a friend or someone she knows out in public she has to talk to them. It’s like when you were little and your mom/dad saw someone at the store and they just had to talk to them forever. She does that.

Zane

• There’s a desk in his room with the most random junk on it. He doesn’t even know where most of it came from. This junk varies from model airplanes to defused pipe bombs.

• He’ll give himself weird accents sometimes. If he’s bored he will just put on a new accent and talk to the others to see their reactions. One time he did a Russian accent that scared Jay so much he peed his pants.

• He could watch those videos of dancing fruit for hours. He just loves brain rot, and that’s okay because it keeps him busy.

Cole

• Religiously watches edits of himself of TikTok. Once he accidentally reposted one and everyone lost their mind.

• Thinks Halo by Beyoncé is the greatest song ever written. It’s the only song he will sing in front of other people and he will put his whole heart and soul into it every time.

• Likes to skateboard, but doesn’t have enough time. He thought it would be a fun hobby to pick up before he was a ninja and actually got really good at it. He isn’t as good now, but he can still do some tricks.

Jay

• This man is so zesty oh my god. Everyone in Ninjago thought he was gay until he got together with Nya. There are still people who think it’s all just an act to cover it up.

• If this guy sees a river he is getting in. It doesn’t matter if it’s 10 or 80 degrees, this man is ready to jump in any river he sees. He tries to get everyone else to join, but they aren’t as stupid (except Cole who obviously has to join him)

•Watches Instagram reels instead of TikTok. He thinks they’re funnier, and Kai thinks that it’s the funniest thing in the world and never shuts up about it.

Lloyd

• A lot of people think this, but I think that he bleach’s his hair. He doesn’t want to look anything like his dad, and he thinks his dark hair makes him look evil.

• Also likes art, but mostly draws. He likes to do art with Nya, but picked it up when he was younger. He used to make his own comic books about the ninja in S1.

• Wants to be a theater kid so bad, but he has to focus on his ninja work. He’s made everyone watch Hamilton at least 5 times (so far).

I have other headcanons about a lot of other characters, and more about these guys if you’re interested.

[duskholland]

No Control || Frat!Tom Smut

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

✧ *:･ﾟNo Control･ﾟ:*✧

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

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

He instantly knows that he wants you.

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

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

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

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

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

“At what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harrison rolls his eyes. “Go on.”

“See ya, mate.”

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

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

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

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

Tom likes how your voice sounds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirk. “Business major,” you supply.

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

“I know. We’re in the same class.”

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

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

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

“I don’t know. Will you?”

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

“Have fun,” you say, stepping back.

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

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

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

“Eh… a couple weeks,” Harrison supplies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You walk in.

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

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

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

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

Right?

“I don’t need to—”

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

Harrison grimaces. “Are you sure?”

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

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

“Yep. Go for it.”

“Thanks, bro.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So why can’t he stop thinking about you?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom thinks he could get you to moan louder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Well?”

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harrison is not my boyfriend,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See ya!” he calls back.

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tom, I couldn’t—”

“Yeah, you can.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell her what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if it rains?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Hazzy.”

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

Tom blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Aww.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would be a good kind of confusion, though.” Tom rounds out his eyes, trying to look as soft and unassuming as possible. “I’m a great bed partner, babe. I won’t kick you. I’ll give you space. Or, if you want, I’ll cuddle you. I’m great at cuddling people.”

You just laugh, your face vibrant and light. “You’re so funny,” you say. “I wonder if you’ll remember this tomorrow.”

Tom scowls, grumpily snuggling further into bed. “I invite a pretty girl into my bed and she rejects me,” he grumbles. “Your loss, baby.”

“You sound more and more like a fratboy every time we speak.” You stand back, crossing your arms over your chest as you look him up and down. “Right. I left painkillers on the side, and there’s more water too. Sweet dreams, Tom.”

You turn to leave, but Tom makes a noise of objection. You pause, raising a brow in question.

“Goodnight kiss,” Tom begs. “Please?”

You laugh again but step back towards him. You bend over, necklace dangling in Tom’s face as your hands smooth up to rest in his hair. He’s overwhelmed by the scent of your perfume and the close proximity, and for a moment, he thinks you’re going to imitate the breathtaking kiss from earlier. But then you move up. You kiss his forehead, gently, stroking a few strands of his hair as your lips linger against his skin for a moment longer than necessary. When you pull back, Tom has a dumb expression on his face, and he’s glad that you follow up the kiss by turning off his lamp.

“Night, Tom,” you say, walking across the room. There’s a single shard of light, peeking into his room through the open door, and it illuminates your silhouette as you pause there.

“Night, Y/N,” he responds, voice slightly thick.

You gently close the door behind you and leave Tom alone, with nothing but his thoughts and his fantasies to entertain him. He grumbles as he turns over, a very prominent and selfish thought pushing to the front of his mind:

Tom loves Harrison, but he’s fed up. He can’t carry on like this, yearning incessantly. He doesn’t want to stay in his lane, he wants you to be his girl. Desperately.

Tom has to do something. He has to make you his.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You think that whoever scheduled Intro to International Business for 9am on a Monday hates all college students.

It’s dreary as you make the hungover trek to campus. The ache in the front of your skull rattles with each sombre step, and you never get used to the chill of November’s dark mornings despite having plenty of experience with them now. You’re bundled up in a hoodie, a jacket, and a scarf, yet the flecks of grey raindrops still manage to soak you. By the time you reach the lecture theatre, you’re grouchy and regretting ever leaving your bed.

At the time, going to the frat party the night before had seemed like a great idea—Harrison hadn’t stopped blowing up your phone about it all weekend, and you’d felt compelled to keep him company. There were other factors that made you eager to go, too.

It’s all a blur now. Spin the bottle, disrupting Harrison’s tense conversation with Tom, taking the latter upstairs. You think about the sight of Tom bundled up in bed, duvet pulled to his pouting lips, and your entire body bursts into flame, rippling with an unrestrained desire that makes you feel guilty for just existing. You’d been so affected by the events of the night before that you’d had to go home, too overwhelmed to stay with Harrison in the room beside Tom’s.

Most of the seats around you are empty. You’re early despite rolling out of bed after sleeping through your first alarm. As you settle into the back of the theatre, you begrudgingly pull out a pad of paper and a pen, wishing you’d thought to bring sunglasses. This is the class that you supposedly share with Tom and Harrison—also business majors—yet they’ve never made an appearance beyond a half-assed attempt in the first week. Sometimes you wonder how they’re both able to pass a class they never show face in.

“Fuckin’ hell, love. Who the fuck scheduled this so early? They’re taking the piss.”

You startle as a grouchy voice enters your space, and your eyes snap up just in time to see a dark figure drop down into the open seat beside you. The deep navy blue hoodie is pulled above his head, and he immediately crosses his arms, but you know without a doubt who it is.

“Tom?” you ask, voice full of shock. You sit forward, reaching out to place a hand on his arm as you peer at him. When you meet his pale face and see the thick sunglasses covering his eyes, your eyebrows raise. “Since when do you come to class?”

Tom clicks his tongue, lips curving into a smirk. It’s a little disconcerting that you can’t see his eyes, but you can tell they’re dark and seductive. They always are.

“What d’you mean?” he teases. “I’m always here.”

“As if.”

He shrugs and breaks off for a moment to yawn. “Thought I should start being a good student, ‘n all,” he mutters. “Finals next month, and everything.”

“And how’s your hangover?”

Tom pulls a face. All of a sudden, he leans over, rummaging through his bag with loud actions until he procures a bottle of water and a bag of mixed nuts. When he sits back up, he pushes down his hood and jerks off his sunglasses, exposing the damage. You wince as you take in the deep bags beneath his eyes and the way his brown irises are marred with red. He still manages to smile, though, and after ripping open his snack, crunches a couple in quick succession.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “I don’t get hungover, but if I do, it clears pretty fast. I’m built differently.”

You snort. “Yeah right,” you mutter. You find yourself looking at his lips, and briefly, you’re transported to how incredible they felt last night when you’d straddled him and kissed him. Quick to shake that off, you find yourself blinking as you stare at him. “You were trashed last night. I had to take you to bed. Do you remember?”

Tom gives a hapless shrug, not quite looking into your eyes. You wonder, not for the first time, what thoughts are running through his mind. He confuses you immensely.

The night you’d met, you’d been convinced you’d end up sleeping with him. He’d swaggered over to you, dripping charm, looking incredibly hot in an all-black ensemble, chain, and cap, then he’d kissed your forehead and promised to see you later. Just, you hadn’t seen him later—instead, his friends had not-so-subtly set you up with Harrison as Tom had stood across the room, watching. A part of you had felt side-lined by him, but Harrison is attractive, so you’d jumped on him the moment you could.

Harrison is nice. He’s kind. Dependable. He’s the kind of boy that you could easily take home to your mother and hear nothing but kind words about. He isn’t always the most attentive, but he’s funny, and he cares for you, so it’s fine.

Tom is… Tom is an entirely different ballpark. There are no words to describe Tom Holland. You’d thought you knew enough about him before meeting him at the party, but the man you’ve come to know since doesn’t match up to the reputation that surrounds him. Tom is cheeky—it’s obvious in his flirtatious jokes, and his lingering touches, and his habit of kissing your cheek every single time he sees you. He’s funny too, but his sense of humour isn’t mean or callous like most of the lads in his house. Beneath the hardy exterior lies someone who genuinely cares, and looks out for the people he loves.

He makes you feel alive, each one of your cells burning and sizzling every time he’s around. Tom makes you feel the pounding rhythm of your heartbeat everywhere—in your ears, in your chest, between your legs. He gives you everything, whilst giving you nothing at all. It’s entirely perplexing.

You need to stop comparing them. It’s not a competition. You’re seeing Harrison, and Tom has no genuine interest in you. You’re friends, and he’s flirty, but that’s it. You’re friends, and you shared the best kiss of your life last night, but that doesn’t mean a thing. It doesn’t matter that Tom fires you up the right way, because it’s one-sided, and you’re with Haz.

Tom ignores your question about the night before and instead tips his bag of nuts towards you.

“Care for a nut?”

You snort as you pick out a cashew, crunching it softly as he watches. Tom’s deep brown eyes linger on your lower lip as you slowly lick the salt from it.

“Delicious,” you say, earning a loud cackle from your companion.

“Dirty girl,” he mutters, grinning wickedly.

“No, you just have your mind in the gutter. Not everything has to be an innuendo, Tom.”

“Wrong. Everything can be and is an innuendo if you try hard enough. You should know this by now, darling. You’ve spent enough time with me.”

“Maybe, but not all of us share your immature sense of humour, Tom.”

He gasps, eyebrows sliding up his forehead in mock shock. “Are you calling me a child?”

“Childish,” you clarify, smirking as he shoots daggers at you. “You’re such a boy.”

Tom sits back, blinking a few times in quick succession before clearing his throat. His eyes seem to darken as he leans in closer, bringing a hand up to rest on your shoulder. His fingers are warm as he pushes the hair from your face and gently tucks it behind your ear, leaning across the seat until he’s able to whisper gently.

“I am not a boy,” he coos, voice soft. “I’ve just never broken out the proper charm on you, darling.”

Your throat runs dry as his hot breath fans out across the side of your face, minty fresh.

“And what is this proper charm?”

Tom opens his mouth to speak, but it fades a moment later. He pulls back, appearing to lose his cool last minute as his cheeks flush.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he mutters instead. He shifts around in his seat, looking back at you for a split-second before glancing away. Tom’s reluctant to meet your eyes, and you watch, confused, as he chugs about half his bottle of water before pulling off his hoodie. He’s still flushed—face warmer and more alive than it’s been all morning.

Your brows furrow as you look at Tom’s shirt. “Hey, is that the one I borrowed the other week?” you ask, speaking before you have time to process the words.

Tom chuckles, regaining his charm as he throws his hoodie on top of his bag and turns to face you, a hand lodging in his hair. It’s longer than it’d been at the start of the semester, a few strands dangling over his forehead.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Smells of you.” Something crosses over Tom’s face, and he flashes you the tips of his pearly teeth as he smirks. “Smells of us, darling.”

Your reaction is immediate and uncontrollable. A hot flush, moving through your entire body, forming in your centre and rolling across your figure from the inside out. You hope that you can play it off by pulling your notebook into your lap. The back of your mouth is dry, but you manage a weak, quipping response of, “you should wash that,” before you spiral too far.

It’s in the small things. His comments. His lingering touches. His smirks. Tom drives you crazy.

The lecture starts, but you don’t pay it much attention. Instead, you stay huddled up in the back with Tom, killing time as he shows you a collection of photos from the night before. After flicking through the snapshots from a very blurry night, Tom moves on to a different folder in his phone, nimble fingers swiping across the screen and showing off some of his favourite memes. You end up almost crying from laughter, clutching to his arm as you bend over in your seat and try to pass by undetected by the notoriously strict professor. Tom’s hand soothes over your back, and you briefly wonder if you should dissolve into laughter more often just so he can bring you back down.

When the class finishes, Tom throws his arm across your shoulders and walks you across campus. It’s only when you’re halfway towards the car park that you realise where he’s taking you.

“Wait— I can walk back home.”

“Nah. It’s fine.”

“It’s out of the way, though.”

Tom squeezes your side. “‘S alright. You’re my best mate’s girl. ‘Least I can do.” He pauses, apparently oblivious to the sour expression you pull in response to those words. “Plus, you looked after me last night, so… I kinda owe you.”

Deciding to just accept it, you hum in agreement. “Okay. Thank you.”

“No problem, love.”

He’s very warm and his cologne smells like a forest breeze. You enjoy strolling across campus with him, especially when he kisses your temple as you separate at his car. It’s a battered old thing, and you’ve been in it a few times before. You’re fairly sure that Haz owns it too, but the way Tom settles into the driver’s seat and keys the ignition makes him look like the proper owner. Tom commands any space he inhabits with poise and elegance.

“You’re out near Sarah, aren’t you?” Tom asks as he jerkily reverses from his parking space.

“Yeah.”

“Nice area,” he comments, which makes you laugh. Tom glances at you, raising a brow. “What?”

“Small talk?”

“Mmm. Well, is there anything else you’d like to talk about, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Fuck, you can’t handle the way that sounds dripping from his lips.

“Nope.” You stretch your hands out in front of you, yawning. “Too hungover to think.”

“Fair enough.” Tom drums his fingers over the wheel, and you find yourself watching the lines of his slender digits. He has very pretty hands. “Good party though, eh?”

“Oh yeah. Crazy. Did you have fun?”

Tom releases a noise of reluctant agreement. “It was alright. Not the most successful night for me.” He risks a brief glance at you, chuckling. “Isn’t really the best look to get escorted to bed.” You aren’t sure if you should feel guilty for that, but Tom’s quick to add, “not that I don’t appreciate it. I do. I just shouldn’t have been so eager.”

“Why were you?” you ask. “It seemed like you were trying really hard to get drunk. Did something happen?”

Tom cackles, the sound so loud and quivering so precisely that it makes you jump. “God, if you only knew…”

“Eh?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

You’re intrigued now. “What?” you press, reaching across the console to pat his thigh. You’re over halfway back to yours now, and like a bloodhound, you want to know answers. “Was it a girl? I’ve not seen you with anyone since… Well, ever.” You furrow your brows. “Did someone reject you?”

Tom’s face clouds over immediately, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat as you watch his jaw set into a hard line.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snaps, his easy demeanour gone.

“Woah,” you mutter. “Sorry.”

Tom cards a frustrated hand through his hair, his eyes glinting dark. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I was not rejected.” The way his voice quivers makes it sound like a lie.

You pull a face as you cross your arms over your chest, your hangover exacerbating your rapidly falling mood.

“Aren’t we friends?” you ask.

He sucks in a fast breath. “Yep,” he replies, speaking through tight lips.

Something has changed. It’s as if you’ve crossed an invisible boundary that you hadn’t seen, tripped a trick wire only visible to him. The air between you is thick, and Tom doesn’t say another word until he’s turned down your street and pulled into a space outside your house.

“Well… Thanks, I guess,” you mutter. You reach into the footwell and pull up your bag, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn back to face him. For a few moments you bounce between jumping out of the car or staying, but you hate leaving things tense like this. Not with him. “Are we… good?”

Tom turns off the engine. For a moment he stares at his hands on the steering wheel, but then he brings his gaze up to you. His eyes are sad and raw, and it makes your heart hurt.

“We’re fine, Y/N,” he says, voice softer. “Sorry. It’s the, uh… The hangover. Makin’ me act like a twat. I’m sorry.”

You release a sigh of relief. “It’s okay, Tom.” A light chuckle slips by your lips. “I was worried I pissed you off for a moment there.”

Tom’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You? Never, darling.” He drums his hands over his thighs, and you remember the circumstances.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll get out of your hair,” you say. You hasten to undo your seatbelt and reach towards the car door, only to pause when Tom reaches out suddenly to touch your arm. “Yeah?”

“I, uh…” Tom’s close, leaning over the console. Your eyes drift over the freckles of his face, and you get distracted by how warm his brown orbs are, like glinting pools of honey. “I really am sorry,” he adds. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

You tilt your head to the side. “It’s fine.” You glance down to where he’s softly caressing your arm, his eyes fixed firmly on your skin. His hand feels nice. Soothing. He soothes you. He always does. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tom nods. “Yeah. I’m great.”

You don’t quite believe him, but you’re willing to accept that the hangover has knocked him.

“Well, thank you,” you say. You turn back to face him. “For the lift. And the nuts.”

Tom finally smiles again, and the sight makes your heart soar. “No worries, babe,” he says. He winks. “Any time.”

You lean over the console and kiss his cheek, your mouth hitting a spot of skin closer to his lips than the side of his face. If Tom notices how flustered it makes you, he doesn’t say a thing. You’re still shaking as you pull your bag over your back and hobble from the car, shouting back a tight, “bye!”

Tom raises his hand through the open window and winks again as he pulls away from the curb, leaving your body throbbing persistently and your heart more confused than it’s ever been.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Two weeks pass. You don’t see Harrison much, but Tom continues to come to class. Life goes on, nothing unchanged, and finals come and go with ease. Before you know it, it’s the final mixer of the semester.

Harrison’s going to miss it. He tells you as much when you turn up at the frat two hours before kickoff to find him stuffing shirts into a bag. He looks guilty as you walk into his room, question written all over your face.

“You remember Rory, yeah? From UPenn? He invited me to their party. Apparently, they’ve got Travis Scott. It’s gonna be lit, so… I’m going.”

“Overnight?” you ask, looking at his heavy bag. Harrison nods, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah. Sorry… I probably should’ve told you.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah.” You glance down at your hands and swallow the irritation that festers in your chest. Harrison has never been great at communication. Throughout the duration of your arrangement—whether you’re just dating, or just hooking up—he’s kept his cards close to his chest. He confuses you.

When you’d first spent the night with him, Harrison had acted like he’d wanted something more with you. You’d been on a few dates, he’d brought your flowers, the works. But with time, it’s as if he’s tired of you. The spark has slipped away, and if he wasn’t on his way across state, you’d sit him down and have a discussion about the direction of your entanglement. But he is, and you have no time, so you display your irritation by crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry,” he adds. He finishes zipping up his bag and throws it over his shoulders before stepping towards you. With warm hands, he cups your cheeks and brings you in for a deep, passionate kiss. “You can always come if you want.”

You grimace as you shake your head. “I told Tom I’d help him here,” you say. “It’s fine. Just… Have fun, alright?”

A shadow of jealousy briefly flitters across Harrison’s face, but it’s quick to smooth away when he clears his throat. “‘Course,” he says. He takes your hand and leads you from his room. “What are you guys doing?”

“Hm?”

“Tom. What are you doing with him?”

“Oh. Just hanging up banners, and stuff. He wanted me to help him with the drinks too.”

“Nice.”

The air between you is stale, and you’re glad when Harrison pulls you down the corridor and pauses outside Tom’s room. There’s loud music coming from the room, so Harrison has to rap loudly several times, an act that makes you cringe.

“Come in!” yells Tom. Harrison does just that, pulling you in after him with a firm grip. “Oh, hey guys?”

You instantly wrench your hand from Harrison’s, not wanting him to feel your palm grow hot as your eyes fall onto Tom. You’ve caught him mid-workout, perched on the edge of his bed, shirtless and doing curls with a hand weight. There’s a healthy red flush to his face, and his bicep bulges as he flexes with the weight. All across his chest are lines of thick muscle, and you find yourself staring.

“Hey, dude,” Harrison says. “I’m just on my way out.” He turns to look at you, an easy smile on his face. “Y/N told me you guys have plans tonight, so… I guess, I’m just wondering. Can you keep an eye on her? Look after my girl, y’know?” He pauses to chew on his lip, guilt at leaving reflected in his eyes. “Make sure she’s okay, ‘n all that.”

Tom stands from the bed, tossing the weight onto the mattress with ease before approaching you, smirking. “‘Course, Haz.” He wraps a very hot, slightly sweaty arm around you and pulls you into his side. “I’ll take care of her.” Tom glances at you, shrugging softly. “Take care of you,” he adds.

You don’t know what kind of dangers you might face tonight that warrant a personal guard, but you don’t think you mind it if your attendant is Tom. He’s hot and sweaty and he smells of man, but you burn for him.

“Thanks,” you respond, slightly breathless.

Harrison looks between you both, then shrugs. “Great.” He steps forward and briefly touches his lips to you. Tom freezes, holding you tighter in his arms the moment Harrison kisses you, and that action makes you feel perplexed. “Have a good time, guys.”

“You too, Haz,” Tom responds. You echo similar sentiments.

When the door closes behind Harrison, Tom doesn’t move. He simply holds you tighter, then drops his mouth down and presses a light kiss to the base of your neck. Your choked whimper travels into the air, and you flush as he steps away.

“We will have fun tonight, won’t we, Y/N?” he teases. His eyes are dark as they briefly skitter across your figure. After a moment, Tom walks across the room and picks up a towel and a fresh set of clothes. Tom pauses in front of you, tilting his head as he looks at you. He has to know how frazzled he makes you feel. He’s got to.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice high. “A lot of fun.”

“Mmm. Hope so.” Tom steps forward and cups your cheek in his hot palm, kissing your forehead before stepping back. “I’m going to shower. Make yourself comfortable, yeah? What’s mine is yours.”

A full-body shiver travels down your spine, but luckily it isn’t until he’s turned on his heel and strode over to the door.

“Have fun,” you call out. Tom turns back to wink, then disappears in a flash.

As the door closes behind him, you wonder if you really lost your spark for Harrison, or if the feelings you had for him just paled in comparison to the ones you harbour for his best friend.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The party picks up quickly. You split off from Tom a few hours in, being pulled away by one of your friends and staying with them for a while. You start to miss him, though, so you excuse yourself from a game of beer pong out on the patio and walk back into the large frat house, cringing slightly as you hear the loud music. You haven’t been drinking much tonight. Something tells you that you’ll need your sober brain.

It takes you a while to find Tom, the house busy and wild. He’s not in the kitchen, nor the hallway. Your adventures take you to the large living room, where they have the music and the drinks set up. As you wander inside, your eyes take a moment to acclimate to the dim lighting. When they settle, you see him, and the breath leaves your lungs.

Tom is standing in the middle of the dancefloor, talking with a girl. She’s draped in his arms, the tips of her fingers running through his hair as she chats to him. Tom is looking at her intently, paying rapt attention to what she’s saying, but the smile on his face doesn’t quite stretch to his eyes. When he spots you, his brows briefly raise, only for them to lower again as he smirks. He winks at you, then reaches for the girl, bringing her in closer and dropping his mouth so he can start to kiss her neck.

Jealousy consumes you. It burns through every other rational thought that you have. The sight of the girl wrapping herself around him as Tom kisses up her neck makes your fingers curl into fists at your sides, and you start to walk across the room before you can comprehend it. Tom sees you, continuing to make flirtatious eye contact with you as he deposits light, wet kisses to the girl’s shoulder. It feels targeted and provocative, and whatever game that he’s playing seems to work.

“Tom!” you call out when you’re just a few centimetres away. He leisurely pulls away from the girl, dark eyes twinkling mischievously as he looks up at you.

“Yes, Y/N?”

You grimace. Now you’re over here, on the receiving end of stares from Tom and his companion, you wonder why you’d responded so immediately and directly.

“You need to come with me. We have, uh… Things to do.”

Tom raises an eyebrow, stepping away from the girl as he crosses his biceps over his chest. He’s wearing his golden chain, the one that always drives you mad, and he looks so fucking handsome under the UV lights.

“And what would those things be, Y/N?” he asks. The girl at his side is looking between you both.

“You know,” you hiss.

The girl frowns, then huffs out a sigh and pushes at Tom’s arm. “Can we go upstairs?” she asks him. Tom glances at her, chewing his lower lip as he finds himself on the receiving end of her fluttering lashes.

“No, Jess,” he says, evening out the rejection with a soft smile. “I’m sorry. Have a good evening.” Before she can respond, Tom reaches out and takes your hand, pulling you with ease towards one of the corners of the room. You squeal as he tugs you, easily falling into his side and enjoying the press of his warm arm to yours. He drops his voice, pausing only when you’re on the edge of the dancefloor to spin you and press his hands to your waist. “Are you alright, darling?” he asks, smirking. “Looks to me like someone was a little jealous.”

Your body heats up, and you find yourself nibbling at your lower lip as you try to make sense of the situation. “Nope,” you lie. With ease, you reach up and rest your hands on Tom’s broad shoulders. “I was just… Thinking about the night we met. You said we could dance then, but we never did.” You tilt your head to the side, throwing out a convincing smile. “Do you want to change that?”

Tom growls, tugging you closer as he wraps his arms around you. The tips of his teeth brush up against the shell of your ear and you whimper as his hot breath fans out over the side of your face. “Fuck yeah, babe,” he murmurs.

You settle into it easily. Tom ends up pulling you so your back rests flush against his front, his arms skating around to hold your waist as you grind back against him. It’s close and hot, and it doesn’t take long for him to put his lips back where they belong—on your neck, kissing deeply. Everything that he does feels calculated and purposeful, but it’s only when he brings his kisses near your ear and whispers a low, “you’re so fucking hot, baby,” that you come back to earth.

“We… Shouldn’t,” you whimper. Tom kisses your lobe in response. “Harrison.”

“What about him?” he mutters. His voice is raspy and seductive, and the way he strokes his hands over your sides makes your eyes roll back. “He doesn’t care about you like I do, Y/N. You know he doesn’t.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the way Tom sucks deep bruises to the sensitive spot on your neck. Harrison had never been able to find it, had never even tried.

“He cares about me,” you say, voice hoarse.

“Yeah. But not enough.” Tom spins you in his arms, reaching up to cup your cheek in a hand. He peers at you, eyes wide and insistent. “He lies to you. Did he ever tell you about the night that you met?”

You quirk a brow. “No.”

A shadow of hesitation passes over Tom’s face, but he swallows it down. “He only came up to you as part of a… a fucking bet. That’s the only reason I didn’t come back to you that night.” He strokes his fingers over your cheekbone, soothing you when you frown. “You’re the prettiest fucking woman I’ve ever met in my life, and it’s been killing me to see you both together.”

You press your forehead to his, feeling his breath come out in hot pants over your face. “Do you like me, Tom?”

He chuckles. “You have no idea how much, babe.” Tom shifts his hands back to your hair and he cradles your face. “I’d be so good to you. I swear.” He’s speaking earnestly, his voice breaking softly as he looks at you. “I love Haz. He’s my best mate. But we all know that you’re not a good fit. He left you here tonight. He doesn’t satisfy you.” Tom drops his voice, tilting his head to the side as his voice drops lower. He brings his lips closer, kissing the side of your mouth as you shiver. “I could satisfy you properly.”

You release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. For a moment you stare at Tom, eyes swirling down to his lips, then, as if entranced, you reach down and pull your phone from your bra. Using one hand on the screen, you reach up to cup Tom’s face with the other, smiling softly when he instinctively tilts his lips and kisses the palm of your hand. You write out a short message, the guilt in your heart fading when you briefly check Harrison’s Instagram story and see him surrounded by a sea of girls at the party he hadn’t invited you to.

After sending the message, you tilt the screen towards Tom’s face, watching his skin glow white as he slowly reads the few words.

You: Haz, I’m sorry to do this over text, but it’s over. I think we both know that we’re better as friends.

Tom’s brows raise. “Did you..?”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip and slowly tuck your phone back against your chest. “It’s over.”

Tom kisses you immediately, both of his hands anchoring your cheeks. You could almost cry with how good it feels to have his mouth touching yours again. He parts his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth, and you moan as you wrap your arms around his neck. As he holds you tightly, his hands slip down to hold your waist, and though your teeth and noses collide and clash, you don’t care. It’s beautifully imperfect, and it’s so hot that it makes your whole body throb. Tom’s curls give you the perfect leverage to jerk him closer, and as you make out mercilessly on the edge of the dance floor, you feel a piece of you slot into place.

“Come upstairs with me,” he groans, voice thick as he speaks against your lips. Your mouth is wet with spit, but you don’t bother to wipe it clean when you pull back. Tom’s eyes glint with hunger, and he grabs at your hand when you nod.

The journey upstairs is fast and easy, full of your giggles as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. The moment you’re in his room, Tom pushes you back against the door and flicks the lock, attaching his lips to your neck with ease.

“Tom,” you whine, running your hands all over his back as he sucks harshly against your skin.  

His hands skim lower and you curve your spine away from the door so he can grab handfuls of your ass, your moan mixing with his grunt when he pulls away from your neck to kiss your lips again. It’s as if he’s ravenous—unable to pick between your lips and your neck, your hips and your ass. Tom changes his position every few seconds, and the irregularity fills you with excitement.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groans. Tom pulls back breathlessly, looking straight into your eyes. “Can I… Are you okay with this?” he clarifies, holding your gaze firmly until you nod.

“I’m more than okay with this,” you say.

“Good, good... Pretty baby.” Tom runs his index finger down your face, his knees bending as he slowly sinks down in front of you. He scatters two light kisses to each of your breasts before travelling down your navel, only stopping when he’s fully on his knees, gazing up at you from beneath his lashes. “Darling?”

“Hmm?” You’re light-headed but aroused, your dress feeling tight as you shuffle against the door.

“Can I taste your pussy, baby?”

Your breath catches in the back of your throat, and the first time you try to speak, only a moan comes out. Tom smirks, fingers easily pushing up the hem of your dress. As his fingertips stroke up your thighs to rest on your waistband, he pauses, tilting his head to the side in question. “Yeah,” you manage, voice a whisper. “I want that so badly.”

“Mmm, should’ve just said, darling.” Tom’s head dips, disappearing between your legs. You whimper as he rubs the front of two fingers down the front of your panties, the material wet and warm. “God…” He unhooks them easily and tugs them down your legs, pausing to allow you to kick them off. When he repositions, he holds your thighs further apart and presses a kiss to your soft flesh. “You’re fucking soaked, lovie.” His hot breath fans across your centre. “Pretty cunt’s just waiting for me, isn’t it?”

His cockiness turns you on, and you’ve barely gotten out a garbled moan before he’s delving in. Tom’s skilful tongue runs up your slit, light at first, gradually leading you into it. You cry out as he finds your clit, sucking softly around the bud before lapping his tip across it gently. You have to reach out and grab ahold of the nearby bookshelf as arcs of pleasure spread out from your centre, small whimpers and moans being pulled from your mouth as Tom continues his assault.

“Tastes like paradise,” he whines, speaking against your cunt. “So sweet, baby. I understand why Haz likes being with you so much.” Tom pauses, drawing a few more strokes across your clit as you whimper. “Mine now,” he murmurs, deep voice vibrating across your centre. “My pussy.”

“Tom,” you moan, legs shaking. He responds by bringing his right hand up, slowly curving two of his digits into your heat. As he starts to thrust his fingers, the sounds of your wet arousal fill the air, making you moan louder. “Feels so good,” you encourage, realising he works harder when you speak to him. The top of his curls brushes against your legs as his tongue continues to glide over your clit, merciless and pleasurable.

“You sound so pretty, love,” Tom says, pulling away slightly. The vibrations from the noise make you moan louder, and you glance down to see him staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust and his chin covered in your juices. He looks back between your legs, readjusting his fingers and curving them at different angles before he strikes gold. When you call out his name, his other hand goes up to your hips, holding you back against the door as he smirks. “I want you to cum for me, darling,” he coos. “Let me make you feel good. I want to hear those pretty little moans. Be loud for me.”

You don’t take much convincing, as once Tom’s got his mouth back on your clit, you’re arching your back as you fall over the edge. He laps your bud with his hot, firm tongue, his fingers continuing to stroke at your walls until you spasm into climax, reaching out to grab his hair as you moan and writhe against the door. He holds you up, even when you feel like falling, and it has to be the most intensely pleasurable orgasm that you’ve ever experienced in your life.

“Fuck,” you pant, only able to calm down when Tom pulls back. He sits on his shins, smacking his lips as he looks up at you, smirking. You’ve still got a hand on his head, so you fiddle with his hair as you recover. “That was so good.” A breathless smile finds your face. “So good. Thank you.”

“No problem, darling.” Tom clambers to his feet, and your eyes find themselves drawn to the bulge in his jeans. “Knew I could make you cum,” he says, speaking almost to himself. “Looked like an angel. Taste like one too.”

You swallow a moan and step forward, hands twisting behind your back to release your zipper. Tom’s eyes widen as you push down your dress, stepping out of it with ease.

“We’re not done yet, are we?” you ask, biting your lip as you look over to the bed. Tom shakes his head and offers you a hand after you’ve pulled your phone from your bra and placed it down on his desk.

“No way,” he agrees. Tom pushes you down onto the mattress but stays standing at the edge, nimble hands quickly releasing his belt and pulling off his jeans, then his shirt. You admire his Calvin Klein boxers, black with a white band skimming across the top, and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Fuck,” he adds. His eyes skim your figure, appreciation held in his gaze. “I can’t believe I’ve got you here.” He gets on the bed, pushing you down and climbing on top of you as he kisses his way up to your mouth. When he’s hovering above your face, he cups your cheeks. “Most beautiful girl in the whole world, love. Girl of my dreams.”

You kiss him, your hands finally able to learn the curves of his muscular back. Tom grinds down into you, his covered crotch meeting your bare pussy, and the friction to your clit makes you moan into the kiss. As you admire his form, you settle into his lips, your heart beating faster and more persistently against your ribcage.

“Tom,” you say, speaking against his mouth. He pulls back, lips red and puffy. “You’re so handsome. Have I ever told you that?”

Tom bites his lip, continuing to roll his hips down against yours. When you start to grind up to meet him, an expression of enjoyment darkens his face. “Thanks, love.”

You lick your lips as you wrap your arms around him, holding him closer as he continues to grind into you. “Every time I’d see you out doing weights or walking around shirtless, it’d turn me on,” you admit. You snake a hand between your bodies, managing to press your palm up and against the outline of his cock. Tom groans loudly, dropping his head into the crook of your neck and whining as he ruts against the pressure. “I want to feel you,” you whimper. “Properly. I want to feel how good it is to have you inside me... I can feel you. I know you’re big.” You bite your lip. “I’ve thought about it for weeks.”

Tom forces his face away from your neck and meets your eyes, his pupils completely dilated. “You are going to be the death of me, lovie,” he says seriously, drawing a chuckle from your lips. Tom leans up and kisses you, softer, but only for a moment. He reaches across his bed and rummages through his bedside table, procuring a condom a second later.

“Let me do it,” you offer. Tom nods, and you swap positions with ease. Tom settles on the mattress, raising his hips and watching as you tug his boxers down his legs. You feel yourself salivate slightly as you take sight of his cock, erect and flushed, pressing up against his lower stomach. Holding the open condom in one hand, you run your thumb over his tip with the other, gathering beads of his silver precum on your fingertip. You meet Tom’s eyes and sit back on his thighs as you push your finger into your mouth, exaggerating your moan as you lick it clean.

Tom tosses his head back, his hair fluffing up against the pillows. His cock twitches against his stomach. “Fuck, baby… You’re driving me crazy.” When you reach back and roll the condom over his length, he can barely keep still, rutting up and filling your hand the moment you’re done. “You know… every time you stayed the night with Haz, I could hear you guys,” he says, looking at you through hooded eyes. You give him a few pumps, biting your lip as you admire his member and try to imagine how good it’ll feel filling you to the brim. “Used to get off listening to your moans. Imagining it was me fucking you. Thinking… Thinking about how good it’d be to- fuck- to open you up on my cock.”

His words make you feel hot, and you speed up the rhythm of your hand as you watch his face flush with heat. “I know,” you admit. “I could hear you sometimes.” You lean up and press a kiss to his chest, feeling his hot skin between your lips. “You make the hottest noises, Tom.”

“For you,” he groans, jaw tensing. “It’s all for you.” He continues to rut into your hand, and you smirk as you feel him throb. As Tom grows more erratic, you feel your slick between your legs thicken and your core begin to throb.

“Can I ride you?” you ask.

Tom immediately bounces his head, eyes lighting up like you’ve spoken the only thing he’s ever wanted to hear. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes—”

You bend over to kiss him, sliding up his body with ease. Tom reaches up your back, eager hands falling to a stop at your bra. He manages to unclasp it after a few attempts, grinning victoriously against your lips as it falls slack. Once you’ve thrown it aside, you sit back, watching as Tom’s hand goes down to guide his cock through your slit. One of his hands rests on your hip, palm hot and heavy, and he gives you a short squeeze as he presses his tip against your entrance.

Slowly, you sink down onto him, moaning loudly as his girth stretches your cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut as you adjust, breath hitching when Tom adds his thumb to your clit, the pleasure easing the stretch. When you’re completely seated, you find yourself shifting, Tom groaning when you clench and slowly start to ride him.

“Oh my god,” he moans. “Feels like heaven, darling. Actual heaven.” His jaw is tense as he tosses his head back, prying open an eye to watch as you bounce over him, moving faster as you find your rhythm. “So wet, sweetheart. So tight… So much better than I’d ever imagined.” He’s looking at you with pleasure screwed across his face, and the sight of him so desperate makes you feel powerful.

“Tom,” you whimper. “I can feel you so deep.” You’re starting to unravel, feeling him everywhere. With the thumb still rolling over your clit, his hand weighing down your hip, and the tip of his cock brushing deeper each time you come together, you can feel yourself on the verge already. “Can you… I can’t…”

“Y’wanna flip?”

“Yeah. Please.”

It happens easily, without Tom falling from you. A moment later, you’re resting over the warm mattress, wrapping your legs around Tom’s back and pulling him closer as he rails you into the bed. He’s faster than you’d been, and the new angle opens you up deeper, allowing his tip to press more pronouncedly against your g-spot. His chain dangles against your neck, the cool metal scorching against your flushed skin.

“Oh god,” Tom groans. The sounds of your bodies meeting as he roughly thrusts into you, again and again, fill the air. “You’re so perfect. Feels so good.” His eyes are dark as they meet with yours, swirling with unrestrained lust. “So wet, lovie. D’you like it when I fuck you? Yeah? Pussy’s squeezing me so tight. My pussy, isn’t it? You’re mine.”

“Yours,” you agree, liking how it sounds.

Tom grunts and drills into you faster. With each rotation of his hips against yours, his thick head reaches further, dragging across your g-spot with ease and causing sparks to race up your spine. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and you clutch at his torso for purchase as you scramble to stay grounded. When you add a hand to your clit, you feel your cunt clench, squeezing his length and making him groan again.

‘I’m not gonna last, love. Shit. Feels too fucking good,” he whimpers.

You bring his lips back to yours, meeting them clumsily as you moan. Your skin is hot and sweaty, being smothered by the heat of his body bearing down on you. You wind your free hand into his hair. “It’s okay,” you get out, voice catching. “I’m so close, Tom. Fuck. Make me cum. Please.”

You ride the edge for a few moments more before Tom cries out, calling your name in a voice so exerted and broken that it pushes you over the edge too. As his cock pulses against your walls and his groans fall like music to your ears, you let everything go, basking in the pleasure that crashes over your figure in thick, consuming waves. Tom’s hands are slick as they grasp at your sides, but he’s holding you tightly in place and you like it.

When the air finally clears, Tom pulls out, collapsing onto the mattress beside you with a loud groan. You flip onto your side, quivering as your core pangs with pleasurable aftershocks, your tired eyes drifting up to meet his. He reaches out, sweaty palm drifting to your face as he cups your cheek and smiles at you.

“Well,” he starts, voice low. He pulls you closer, and you carefully curl yourself into his arms. Tom nuzzles his lips against your forehead and leaves three light kisses to your skin. “That was a heavenly experience.”

You snort, burying your face in his chest and feeling the cool metal of his chain press to your skin. “Heavenly?”

“Mhmm. Because you’re an angel. My angel.”

You smile into his front. “What a charmer,” you say.

Tom combs some fingers over your hair and softly coaxes you away from his chest. Both of you share a pillow, his deep brown eyes feel of inquisition as he looks at you.

“Darling,” he mumbles, speaking slowly, almost nervous. “I like you a lot. And… And I know the circumstances are messy and complicated, but… I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I want this to be an every time thing. I want you to be my girl.”

“Your girl?”

“Yeah. My girlfriend.” Tom’s handsome eyes flutter over your face. “What do you say?”

You trace your index finger around the sculpted lines of his face, smiling softly as his lips pull into a grin. You think about how your life has changed since the first night you met him, and how your heart has slowly learnt to gravitate towards him. Tom’s right—it is messy, and maybe your union is complicated and a little wrong too, but it feels good. Him kissing your forehead and pulling you closer feels good. He feels good.

“Yeah,” you agree, speaking slowly. “I would really like that.”

Tom’s face splits into a smile, and he pushes in to kiss you. “Good,” he murmurs. “‘Cos I’m gonna woo you every single day of your life. I’ll bring you tea every morning, tuck you in at night. Make you moan louder than you’ve ever moaned in your life—”

“Alright, alright. You’ve already won me over, Tom, you can calm down—”

“Nope.” Tom’s grinning widely as he continues to peck your lips, unable to keep his hands off you. “I’ll keep charming you until I’ve won your heart, babe. This is just how it’s got to be.”

You kiss him, not knowing how to tell him that he’s already had your heart, firmly in the palm of his hand, since the very first night you met.

“Well,” you respond, voice quiet in the air. “I quite like the sound of that.”

Tom nuzzles his nose against you, lips brushing yours. “Yeah?”

You hum affirmatively and reach up to bury your hands back into his hair. “Yeah.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

:D let me know what you think please !!! I would love to know if you have a favourite scene...?! I am torn between y/n putting tom to bed + the lecture theatre...lmk (if you want !!)

mlist + taglist are through the link in my bio <3 

thank you for reading!! <3<3

[beann-e]

“ honestly Suna sometimes it feels like your just sitting there — calculating — thinking of ways that you can piss me off” you let out in a huff of anger as you slammed your hand onto the arm rest placed in the middle of the car. Voice loud enough to be heard from a mile away and then some “ And then you don’t even fucking care “

“ I’m sorry you feel that way “

“ seriously ? seriously Suna “

“ oh I’m sorry would you like me to say it jokingly? “

The silence that towered over the both of you was tall and it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon “ WELL WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY “ his hand came up to run down his face as he sighed

“ look I'm sorry baby but — “

“ but nothing — I'm tired Rin—I'm tired of you screwing with me“ you groaned “ honestly at this point just fuck off “

he moved to pull the keys from the car unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door as your jaw hung open “ what the fuck Suna — “

“ I'm fucking off you ungrateful bit—“

“ you asshole — all of a sudden you take everything literal right ?? huh only when you want to right “

“ y’know what— no you fuck off —ok y/n “

“ see that’s what I'm talking about “

“ honestly I doubt you even know what you were talking about in the first place “

your steps quickened as you followed after the male who stopped at your front door imputing the code and opening your house door “ This is what I mean by you keep fucking with me Suna “

“ oh “ he moved to sit down on the couch arms flung behind it and legs spread wide out in front of him. “ is it really— because , the 40 minute argument in the car about your best friend hitting on me didn’t quite make that clear “ he scoffed shaking his head along with it “ your shitty reasoning must of gotten lost on one of the many streets of Japan y/n “

His eyes glowing body perking up with his next sentence “ yknow what how about you go find it hmm then we can have this little talk sometime later -- preferably when I'm sleeping id hate to be awake for another one of your hellish complaints babe.”

your anger was only growing as the argument continued “ you fucking douchebag I bet you don’t even know why I'm pissed off “

He let out a small sigh of a laugh his legs shaking and hitting each other in a wave before they resumed their earlier position “ I don’t“

“ and you don’t care either do you “

“ I don’t “

Your heart broke for the first time ever in your relationship with the stoic male after hearing his words and tone. In all the time you and your boyfriend had been together you two never argued about his lack of emotion or care.

It never bothered you

It never affected you

until it did

4 hours ago

You smiled up at the taller male as his mouth continued to run while talking to the rest of his volleyball team. This was the first time you’d ever seen him talk for more than 5 minutes with anything other then yeah’s and small mhmms.

The both of you had been invited to a class reunion and you only decided to go because of his new teams constant nagging

Suna had been telling you all week to find something else to do and that you didn’t have to go with him. That it would be too boring and long and that you would be better off having fun without him.

Of course you put up a fight but, ultimately lost and decided to hang out by yourself for the earlier half of the day spending last weeks paycheck on this weeks shopping spree

it felt nice to treat yourself but you couldn’t help but want to treat your boyfriend too. The thought of him being bored alone plagued your mind and you had to get it out.

The only way to do that was to go to the reunion.

Now how you imagined it would go is you show up in your fancy new dress surprising him smile a bit , talk up some of the host and sneak your way in and then mingle and go home and cuddle and kiss your boyfriend all night

funny thing is somewhere in that prewritten script you had created you didn’t realize imagination is not always reality.

The sight of your boyfriend leaning against a wall with a glass in his hand and his other on the string of your best friends dress had you reeling in the disgust that you wanted to spill so badly on the floor right now

All you’d done was go to the restroom but now you sat with your eyes widening while you watched his eyebrows come together in annoyance with the string that wouldn’t come undone.

Your best friend faced away from him back to his chest and a small smile on her face. Cheeks heated from his touch and in that moment you cursed her for having a look on her face that made it visible how much she enjoyed his warmth. You wished she didn’t make it so obvious how the closeness to your boyfriend was making her feel

how it was encouraging her

Your heart broke when you seen Suna finally relax and blow air out of his cheeks before nodding softly almost thanking the gods that he figured it out and it was over

Your feet moving before you could even process what to say to either of them.

“ y-y/—“

your hand came in contact with your best friends face before she could even finish the loud slap echoing through the room as everyone turned to find the source of the noise

Eyebrows raising when they noticed it was not only a slap but a full on one sided battle between you and the girl who everyone seen as nice and quiet during your school years

They never knew of the undercover bitch that was lurking behind the surface. They’d never see the way she was smirking as she took every hit given to her in stride. Your boyfriends hands wrapping around your torso as he looked down and seen that you were hovering over her ripping her to bits

You never letting go of the grip your thighs held around her own as she whispered to where only you could hear “ aw poor y/n’s defending someone that doesn’t even want em—gonna go to jail for someone so unloyal huh “

Your eyes lit up with pure hatred as the security made their way over to you reaching to take you from Sunas hold and lessening your grip on the woman beneath you

“ sir we need you to let her go “

“ don’t touch me until you actually make it all the way to police academy you fucking lowlife. “ you spit out “ how the hell do you only make it to security much less high school reunion security “

“ the hell do you know — you don’t even know how hard police academy is asshole “

“ ah I bet your kids’ll be real proud “ your eyes squinted at his name tag “ todd — you kiss your wife with that mouth “

you laughed eyes rolling from him to suna “ or are you like this asshole and kiss your mistress with it instead ? huh toodles ? “

“ ha — ‘m gonna have fun with you--ya little prick. sir — let ‘em go or else i’ll pull out the big guns — they snuck in here and now their disrespecting an officer “

“ big guns “ your laugh circulated through the room “ ‘k sure let me stop before I get pepper sprayed “

“ my hands already on the trigger you lil bitc— “

“ hey “ sunas voice growled behind you “ watch who the fuck your talking to toodles“

“ just— get—get the fuck off dude I didn’t go to police academy so I could avoid this — their full on disrespecting me come on man get off“ your face scrunched up in annoyance as you saw the security look like they were about to cry

“ well I mean — “ he sighed “ it’s not like your a real officer right“ suna sighed out as he began to bite his lip in worry “ I mean we can let this slide right ? “ he nodded looking towards the males name badge “ uh toodles“

He coughed “ todd — I mean todd “

“ I’m sorry but, even if I could “ his gaze dead set on you “ which I really don’t want to — seeing as though they disrespected me “

His voice sounding proud as he continued “ and I'll have you know I'm security guard of the mouth asshole “

“ oh whoop dee fucking do Tinkerbelle ”

“ y-fucking-/n “ you could feel the way Suna was seething above you breath hot and you could tell his face was made up in a snarl “ if you don't shut the fuck up I swear on Atsumu’s unwashed boxers ill leave your ass prison letters starting tonight “

“ see —— sir I'm trying “ he sighed “ I really am trying to let this go but — “

“ their with me — “

“sure “ he scoffed “ I'll need to see some relations or — “

“ their my s/—their my plus one “ his eyes moved to look at everyone surrounding you guys then back to the position he now held you in before finally dropping you to the floor. Your heart dropping and ears tuning everything out from that point on.

Everything on mute until you got in the car and were finally met with his low voice as he buckled you in and walked to his side turning the car on “ y/n “

You turned to look out the window “ y/n that — “

His voice was so hard but so weak “ y/n that was so fucking embarrassing “ Your body shivered at his words

“ having to watch my fucking s/o almost get fucking arrested “

His hands tightened their grip on the wheel “ then turning around and having to talk you out of it in front of our whole graduating class “

his voice went deadpanned as he swerved a bit on the road mixing lanes “ and — and my team — oh fuck my team “

he started to breathe a bit heavier as you began to feel bad hearing the sadness in his voice. His body shifting in his seat “ all so you could “

he laughed a bit at the situation “ all so you could take your ugly ass insecurities out on your friend ? “

he scoffed looking from you to the road and back to you “ when did you two even stop being friends huh ? did I miss that or ?? do friends just go out and leave bruises on each other or is that something new? What-- is it like a new TikTok trend -- a fashion statement huh ?? the fuck is it because, I'm not a friend person so maybe you know something I don’t “

He scoffed “ maybe — maybe I'll never be a friend person after something like that. If friends are just beating each other’s asses in broad day light out the fucking blue then I'll just stick with ‘tsumu at least I know I can beat his ass if he were to pull some shit like that “

‘ friend ‘ you thought silently

“ poor kid didn’t even see it coming “ he shook his head at you turning back to the road “ holy hell that’s shameful y/n “

he whispered “ I don’t even wanna think about the rumors that’ll spread about us tomorrow “

The car was quiet only for a minute as Suna re arranged his thoughts before he could beat into you again “ friend Suna ? “

your voice was dry “ Rin do friends help each other out of their clothes ? “

your eyebrows creased “ do they focus so intently on another woman while their own is in the same room “

“ I didn’t know you were there “

“ SO YOU ONLY TAKE FRIENDS CLOTHES OFF WHEN IM NOT THERE “

“ NO I “

“ YOU ONLY TOUCH OTHER WOMEN WHEN IM NOT THERE “

“ y/n jus— “ he took a deep breathe and let it out “ just shut up its not like that “ he let out an uncomfortable and tired scoff of a laugh “ it wasn't like that “

“ it’s always shut up Suna it’s never ‘ what’s wrong y/n ‘ ‘ are you ok y/n ‘ it’s just ‘ shut up I don’t wanna talk so you don’t wanna talk either ‘ “

you locked eyes with the male in front of you “ I'm done Rin I'm— I'm done “

“ you cant leave me-- heh not after that shit you pulled back there  “ 

“ fuck if I cant--you don't look like my legs to me and as far as I know their still Bluetooth connected to my mind so-- “

“ you'll be an overnight clown you-you need me y/n “ he shook his head “ we need each other “ 

“ no you need volley ball because you need money-- because guess what asshole as of right now-- your homeless”

“ fuck you as if “

“ we’re over Suna don't let my words finally hit you when you walk out the shitty door”

“ that’s fine by me “ he scoffed “ get the hell out for all I care — I'll pack your shit for you “

“ no— I'll pack your shit asshole your living  in my house bottom feeder “

“ if you don’t shut the fuck u— “

“ then what ? huh what — you’ll leave me “

“ I swear to god I'll —”

“ you’ll what cheat on me with my best friend ah I'm so scared — “ your voice holding nothing but mock enthusiasm “ I can just imagine the way you’ll kiss her when I'm not there — these thoughts for some reason almost feels real y’know “

you watched as the man you’d taught yourself to love for 7 years since high school finally walked out the door. His perfume from earlier still hanging in the air long after the door slammed. Your mind racing when you were finally brought to one thought

‘ how did we end up like this and how the hell do we get back ‘

[kimnjss]

just perfect || jjk

⤑  series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: barely any angst... smut!!

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 7.1K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: cursing, slight dirty talk, mentions of blue balls, oral sex (f. receiving), multiple orgasms,  (mutual) masturbation, grinding/dry humping, quiet voyeurism/exhibitionism, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, jungkook is a lot whiner than you’d think, nipple play, spitting, penetrative sex, yn being a quiet dom, riding... yoongi nd hobi run in a museum.

⤑ A/N: this is out a lot later than i wanted ., but a bitch got sad nd didn’t feel like writing :/ - we good now tho . thank you for being so patient w meee .i hope you guys like this one lowkey a big one so let me know what you think x 

MAY 16TH, 2020 | 15:56

From the moment the two of you stepped onto the shooting set, it was pretty obvious to Jungkook that you were a big deal around here. He was used to putting you on a pedestal and treating you like a princess, but the fact that the other models, the majority of the staff, and the photographer treated you the same way was a bit mind-blowing for him.

Before you're even shedding your jacket, a short woman dressed in all black is rushing over with a robe in one hand and your swimsuit in the other. Ushering you in the direction of where to get changed, all while placing a chilled sparkling water in your hand. Complete with a straw. He follows behind, only half listening as the concept is explained in great detail to you. Following you to the gigantic dressing room, just for you.

A large couch is pressed against one wall, facing a dramatic vanity with an equally dramatic cushion bench. Jungkook is plopping down onto the large couch as you're lowering yourself onto the bench, hair being pinned back by two stylists who are quick to start on your makeup.

Simple chatter flows between the three of you and Jungkook finds himself admiring you with an unwavering smile on his face. You're so pretty. Always so pretty and sweet too. He likes the way you speak to the ladies as if they're old friends, laughing along with them with the prettiest smile on your lips. He's sure he could sit here and watch you forever.

Positive of it when the ladies are finishing with a final brush of your neatly straightened hair. They're waving goodbye as you stand, shimmying out of the tight jeans that you had arrived in. Carelessly tossing them onto the couch beside him before reaching for the hem of your shirt. Getting undressed right in front of his greedy eyes, he's not even ashamed for the way he leans forward on his knees to get a better look.

Forcing a gasp down when you reach back, flicking the clasp of your bra loose. It takes everything in him not to reach forward and take hold of one of your heavy breasts while wrapping his lips around the other. The sounds you made that first time still imprinted in his head. You sounded so pretty underneath him.

“What do you think? Should we get something to eat after this or...?” You speak so casually as if you're not putting on an unexpected right in front of your sexually frustrated boyfriend.

Sexually frustrated might be a stretch, honestly. The two of you found ways to enjoy each other without actually doing the do... but there were times where he hoped, silently of course, that you'd just say fuck it. Sober minded as him to fuck you because he'd deliver no doubt. He'd be more than happy to do it. “Yeah, I could eat.”

He sounds distracted and he is. Rightfully so, because you've just discarded the tiny pair of panties to pull on an equally small bikini bottom. Giving him a pretty good look at your ass and the way it jiggled with each tug of fabric.

“Great. I'll get us something. You're not going to be bored, right?” Arm wrapped around your chest to shield your breasts from him, you toss the bikini top around in your other hand, attempting to untangle the stringy garment.

Jungkook can't even focus enough to answer you properly. He's more concerned with the growing bulge between his legs and whether or not you can tell how turned on he is right now. You do notice, but it's way much more fun to see the uncomfortable shift of his hips, the hesitant tug at the end of his shirt, and the dust of pink in his cheeks than indulging him right now.

Taking your time to secure the bikini top on to your body, you don't pull your gaze from him. And you love the tiny pout that appears on his face once your tits are disappearing from his view. You make a big show of leaning over to reach for the robe you strategically set behind him, chest in his face.

He's letting out a laugh, hands reaching out to find your waist. They're cool against your warm skin, paired with the smile you can easily feel your body heating up. He's looking at you through hooded eyes, almost as if he could devour you at any moment. “You're messing with me, huh?” Gently tugging you onto his lap, hands sliding down the sides of your body and onto your bare thighs.

You're used to being seated on his lap. It's your favorite place to be, honestly. But, with the lack of layers between the two of you, there's nothing to shield you from the very prominent bulge pushing against his pants. Pressed firmly against your core, just one calculated shift of your hips and he'd be nudging against your clit.

And with that shit-eating grin on his face, it's obvious he knows it. Definitely not one to give up control so easily, you're the first one to shift. Eyes fluttering from the drag of his length against your slit, having to force back a moan as your hands tangle themselves in his soft hair. Shooting a well-practiced look of innocence in his direction, you let a soft smile push on to your features.

“Of course not. Why would I mess with you?” He's rolling his eyes instantly, sitting up to press his forehead against yours. Lips stretched into a teasing smile, hands secured tight on your thighs. Easily using his grip to hold your body against his. “Are you sure about that?”

His voice is so deep and unbelievably sensual, you have to physically stop yourself from ripping his pants off and riding him in this dressing room. With a giggle and a shrug, you're hopping off of his lap. Leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips, “Guess you'll never know,” You say, turning to the perfectly timed knock at the door, calling you on to set.

Jungkook is letting out a huff, used to the blue-ball feeling at this point. He doesn't say anything as he stands from his spot, following you out of the room and on to set where they want you. Watching quietly as you're told to pose. Not being able to tear his eyes from you and how good you look in that way too small bikini.

He has always been a huge fan of your confidence. Loved the way you were always so sure of yourself. Loved how you walked, how you talked, how you acted as the entire world belonged to you. It would if he had any say in it. That had to be the first thing he found himself attracted to when he first spoke to you. How confident you were even just speaking to some stranger online.

Conversations seemed to flow with you because you never second-guessed yourself, you never hesitated. You were you all of the time and he loved that. He felt like he didn't have to guess anymore, although it took some time to figure you out, now that he knew you he felt like he actually knew you. He loved that.

The way that he got to know you, the pace that you set for your own reasons really forced him to take his time with you. Not like it was a bad thing. It wasn't bad at all. Because he wasn't in such a rush to kiss you, feel you, fuck you. He was able to enjoy the experience of knowing you. Learning you. Falling in love with you.

All before sleeping with you. 

Literal chills run down his spine when your gaze meets his. Laid flat on your back with the photographer over you, finger snapping pictures insistently. You've got this real sexy look in your eyes, gaze trained on his. Shooting a kiss in his direction and he feels his cheeks darken at the act.

Unsure when exactly he became so easy, but here he was an absolute blushing mess all because his pretty girlfriend decided to blow him a kiss. 

He finds himself sitting at the edge of the seat. Waited with bated breath for the moment you'll look at him again, granting him any ounce of attention to make his heart flutter. And instantly perking up when you're allowed a break. Grinning wide when you're making your way over to him, your long robe draped over your shoulders.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Taking your rightful place on his lap without a second of hesitation. Fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck and forehead leaning down to bump against his.

Jungkook allows his fingers to creep beneath your robe, landing directly on your ass. Gently using his grip to pull you closer to him. “You look really good,” He's hard again and it's all your fault. Desperate for some type of attention, he can't help the way his hips lift toward you.

You ignore the movement. “Thank you.” Nails scraping against his scalp gently, knowing how much he likes when you have your fingers in his hair. “I saw the way you were looking at me. Kinda makes me wonder what we'd do if we didn't have an audience,” Words barely above a whisper, but he's hearing you loud and clear.

Every syllable going straight to his cock. He can't even think of what to say, mind reeling of all the possible things the two of you could be doing if you were alone. He wanted to taste you. Has been craving it since the first time he had you upon his face. And fuck, you always looked so good with his cock in your mouth. Jungkook loved to see how determined you were to swallow him down.

Or he could fuck you... on one of these plush circle sofas. Stretch you out and make you whine for him. Tell him how good he's making you feel. For the first time. Have you call out his name while you cum, squirming underneath him.

“You're thinking about it, aren't you?” Voice so sweet by his ear, lips grazing over the shell of it. He's on the verge of losing it while you're just enjoying yourself teasing him. Dark eyes find yours, clouded with lust and a type of need that you've never seen before. Without a word, he's nodding his head, teeth cutting into his lower lip.

A grin pushes onto your features, hand reaching up to push the hair in front of his face back. “Should we go straight home after this, then?” The pounding of your heart only picks up, knowing exactly what you're about to hint at. Yet, you've never been more sure of anything in your life.

You wanted Jungkook. You've always wanted him, but no more than ever. In ways that you never really cared to explore before him and now it's like if you don't do something about it, you'd surely explode. You wanted him to be your first. No need for the dramatics or specialties, it was simple.

Jungkook was the one you wanted to fuck for the first time. “I can't stop thinking about how good it'll feel to feel you... you know?” Brow raised with your hand between your legs, resting flat against the no doubt painful bulge in his pants. His eyes are all but popping out of his head. “Do you want to?”

He knows what you mean. The look in your eye giving way to the fact that you're speaking more than what you've been doing all along. You wanted to do more and you were sure of it. You're not nervous or hesitant, so sure of yourself like you've always been. You wouldn't have said anything if you weren't. 

“Y-yeah. I want to.” 

MAY 16TH, 2020 | 17:03

Jimin was never a fan of museums. Not once did he think 'Oh, let's go check out this old painting that a bunch of dudes hung on a wall!'. He didn't care for them and didn't understand the hype at all. Would never be caught dead in one... unless his friend's relationship was at stake and an annoying boy with a pretty smile was dragging him into some elaborate ploy to get them together.

Only in that situation would Jimin pull out his beret and tweed jacket and drive the whole hour to the aging building. Hoseok in the front seat, chatting the entire way about how excited he was to check this place out but couldn't because of... circumstances.

He really said it like that, as if the two of them weren't more than aware of what the 'circumstances' were. That was the thing about Hobi, he liked to act like nothing was happening when literally everything was happening right in front of him. Brushed the entire argument off with Yoongi as if it was some fever dream and acted confused whenever someone asked him about it.

So wrapped up in not being seen as weak for caring, he just chose not to care. No matter how many times his friends assured them they didn't care what he did with his romantic lives... because it was literally not their business... he still kept up with the act. Which was why Jimin couldn't be so sure this plan would work.

Who's to say Hoseok wouldn't just act like he's bumping into a stranger and then turn the other way? That would do way more harm than good, hurting Yoongi way more than he needed right now. Especially since this was the first time he's gone out other than the studio in days.

Despite his worries, Jimin still goes along with the plan. Taehyung seemed sure of it, which had to mean that he knew something that he didn't. It would be fine. There was no way they could be put in a worse situation than they are now. Right?

The moment the two of them are entering the building, Hoseok is taking off in the direction of a piece he's excited to see. Jimin spends the entire time following close behind him, secretly texting Taehyung for the proper time that they can 'accidentally' cross paths. It had to be as natural as possible to keep from the two of them knowing that they've been set up.

A squinted glance across the room followed by the most believable 'Hey, isn't that...' and then absentmindedly leaving them alone so they can work out the problems that they have. It was a good plan. It was going to work. He just had to continue repeating it for it to be true, everything was going to go over just fine. Just perfect.

An hour... or six, according to Jimin pass before the long-awaited text is lighting up his phone. A one-worded message letting Jimin know where to head next. His newfound enthusiasm earns an eye raise from Hoseok, but nevertheless, he allows himself to be pulled in the direction of the next exhibit.

They're just halfway there before Jimin is stopping in his tracks, letting out a slightly forced gasp as his eyes widen. “Oh! Isn't that Taehyung... and Yoongi over there?” Hoseok's head snaps in the direction his friend is pointing, heart rate skyrocketing at the mere mention of the man's name.

Across the way, Taehyung is seen doing the exact same thing. Complete with a dramatic hand over his mouth and even wider eyes. Yoongi is not buying it, standing frozen with this scowl on his face as Hoseok and Jimin make their way over to where they're standing.

Oddly, Hobi doesn't seem reluctant to approach him. This was stupid, the avoiding each other, not talking when clearly they had a lot to talk about. While this would be his preferred method to handle things, he hated it when it came to Yoongi. All he wanted was to be close to him again and if that meant looking weak in front of his friends then so be it. He missed him.

He's prepared to say all of that, lay it all out for him, and try to work on mending things so they could get back to where they left off. The closer he gets though, the tighter Yoongi's throat gets. It feels like he's swallowed cotton balls and the sensation makes his eyes water. Heart pounding in his chest, getting louder with each step taken in his direction.

Until it's all too much to handle. Too scared to hear what Hoseok might have to say. Yoongi was out of line, he was the one in the wrong so there's no telling how upset Hoseok might be with him. He couldn't handle that. So, once he's close enough to speak Yoongi is taking off in the other direction. Running away and leaving the three men to stand there confused.

“Yoongi, wait!” Hoseok is calling after him, legs moving without giving him much of a say. Chasing after him like he should've done that night. Instead of walking away, he should've stayed. Made sure that he was okay, tried to make things better. He had been too negligent in their relationship, ignored a lot of the things that bothered him. And this was where they ended up.

He had no intention of doing that now.

Hoseok chases him until his feet ache and then a few feet after that. Catching him outside just a few blocks away from the museum. He can't help the laugh that falls from his lips when Yoongi is stopping to catch his breath, taking careful steps in his direction. “Yoongi, please stop running. I just want to talk to you.”

Too tired to keep up with the chase even if he wanted to, Yoongi is standing. This awful sad look on his face that he tries to mask with a frown, arms crossed over his chest. “I have nothing to say to you.”

Stubborn was fine. Hobi had no problem with dealing with stubbornness. At least he was talking to him. And in this case, he didn't need him to say anything. “That's okay. I have a lot to say to you. Starting with, I'm sorry.” He's moving closer to him, carefully. Not wanting to overstep and set him running again.

“I should've been more considerate of your feelings, Yoongi. You told me you didn't want to keep us a secret and I didn't listen. I'm sorry for making you feel like I wasn't proud of being with you because I am. I love being with you. I just... I didn't think it was that big of a deal? And I didn't want everyone in our business, but I was selfish and should've paid more attention to you.”

He's had a lot of time to think of what he has done and how he could make things better between the both of them. Had practiced his apology a dozen times in the mirror and then a dozen more. The real problem was working up the courage to take the first step. So seeing him here, whether or not it was a real coincidence, there was no better timing than now.

Somewhere within his apology, Yoongi seems to soften. Arms dropping to his side as he listens to what is being said to him. This whole thing, the base of their fight really could've been resolved easily. There's no doubt about that. But when pride and egos get invoked everything becomes a huge mess. But seeing Hoseok in an almost vulnerable state was new, it was nice in a weird way.

But Hobi wasn't the only one in the wrong. Yoongi knew that. “I'm sorry too...I shouldn't have tried to make you jealous. I knew how you felt and I ignored that because it wasn't what I wanted. I could've been more considerate too, it wasn't just you.” A huge smile is breaking on to Hoseok's face, taking the last few steps to close the space between them. He's landing a large hand on the side of Yoongi's neck, thumb stroking against his skin.

“Can we get back together? I don't like not being with you.” His lower lip is jutting out in the cutest little pout, Yoongi can't help but smile at him. Eyes rolling playfully as he nods his head, accepting the eager kiss that's placed on his lips.

Strong arms wrapping around his body and pulling him close. Kissing him in the middle of the street, for everyone to see.

MAY 16TH, 2020 | 21:11

Jungkook kisses you hungrily, hands roaming around your body with purpose. That being, getting you undressed as quickly as possible. You're giving him the same treatment, teeth and tongue clashing as you fumble with the buckle of his belt. Barely entering his house before his mouth was pressed against yours, not parting for more than a second since then.

He's lifting your body onto his with ease, carrying you up the stairs and into the bedroom. The shirt that he had been wearing was left in the doorway along with your jeans and jacket. Setting you down on the bed, he takes a moment to admire you. Lipstick smudged and eyes sparkling. Your hair fanned around your head against the pillow. The rise and fall of your chest, the longer he looks at you the harder it gets to believe that you're his.

Leaning down, his face finds the crook of your neck. Hands spread your legs apart so he's able to fit between them nicely. Sucking a trail of wet kisses down the length of your neck, he's so hard pressed against you. Harder than you've ever felt him before and you're sure it comes with the anticipation of what's to come.

His fingers are tangled in your hair holding your head steady as he leaves marks against your neck. He's being cautious, careful despite his desires. Not wanting to push you too far or do too much too soon, but all you wanted was him. And you didn't want to go slow. Had done more than enough pussyfooting to last you a lifetime, you just wanted him now.

Plain and simple.

Hands work to unfasten the button on his jeans, tugging them down with motion straying far from being fluid. He laughs at your struggle, pulling back into a kneel. His large hand coming down to replace yours, watching you through a hooded gaze while dragging them down the rest of the way. It had been pretty obvious how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans, but even more so through the thin layering of briefs.

Jungkook was big, that much you already knew. Impressive even when soft and you've never seen him this hard before. Was it all going to fit inside of you? Had trouble taking just two fingers of his and he was much thicker than that. The thought of trying, though, having him stretch you out has a familiar warmth pooling between your legs. A determination settling in your chest. You wanted to be able to take him. Need to.

He's reaching for the hem of your shirt, mumbling something out about fairness. And with a quick lift, your shirt is being tossed somewhere behind him. Large hands cup your breasts, body moving to settle back between your legs. Thumb experimentally rubbing against your nipple through the thin lace and it's not enough.

It seems he has the ability to read your mind with the quickness of the way he reaches behind you, fingering at the clasps of your bra. Moving it out of the way until your breasts are resting freely on your chest. The soft moan that falls from his lips has your walls clenching around nothing. An even louder moan emitting from the back of your throat as his lips wrap around the hardened bud.

“Jungkook,” You gasp. Teeth sinking into your skin while his fingers work the other side into a peak. 

He has been embarrassingly hard this entire day and the sweet moans that leave your glossed lips do nothing but add to that. Absentmindedly his hips rut against yours, thick cock brushing against your wet core, covered by the flimsy material of his panties. It almost hurt how bad he wanted you. Mind reeling with different ways he could take you, but he was so anxious about fucking it up he seemed to be playing it safe.

And you could tell. Even the usually frantic thrusts of his hips were calculated, just barely missing your clit and not nearly as hard as normal. His mouth is releasing from around your nipple to leave a trail of wet kisses down your body, tongue painting wet streaks against your skin. But you're stopping him before he can fit his head between your legs.

“Wait. I-I want to feel you... I want to make you feel good first,” Just as much as this was something big for you, you wanted it to be the same for him. It was not only your first time ever, it was also his first time with you. It should be fun for him too, right?

His eyes are widening as if you just suggested something as bizarre as nude bungee jumping, but the sound of your giggle has his body relaxing almost instantly. He watches as you sit up, arms wrapped around his neck. Kissing him fervently, hands knotting in the soft curls of his hair.

Warm tongue parting his lips, coaxing him into a kiss that can only be described as sloppy. Teeth grazing against his lower lip while your hand palms him through his briefs, his lips fall from yours to let out a low groan. Head dropping to watch the way your hand moves against him. “Fuck,” He sighs out almost in disbelief. 

Soft curses fall from his lips as your grip tightens around him, more pressure applied to the movements of your palm. He's moving his hips along with your hand, eyes fluttering and head bowed. Trying so hard to watch the way your fingers squeeze around him, but it's too hard to concentrate on anything but how good you were making him feel.

“You're so big, Kookie. What do you want me to do?” Voice laced with seduction, it's hot enough to make his cock twitch. If you kept on like that, it won't be long before he's blowing his load. Before even taking his boxers off, how embarrassing. 

He doesn't need to think, because he knows what he wants. Has thought about it on more than one occasion and wanted to try his chances tonight. “I... touch yourself. I want to see you touch yourself,” There's obvious strain in his voice, trying to create a coherent sentence through breathy moans.

His request catches you off guard, so sure that he'd ask you to suck him off or something that would be beneficial to him. But you don't protest, the thought of him watching you do something supposedly private egging you on. It was hot, him wanting to watch you. And it was no secret how inclined you were to giving Jungkook exactly what he wanted.

You're laying on your back once again, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your panties. Making a big show of taking them off, loving the way his eyes follow the material down your legs before he's dragging his gaze up to your bare pussy. Glistening with arousal all pink and pretty.

“Like this?” Middle finger tapping against your clit, body tensing at the contact. Jungkook kneels beside you, breath caught in his throat. Not daring to look away as your finger lightly moves over your clit. “Harder,” He whines, realizing you're teasing him with how gentle you're being.

Giggling softly, you apply more pressure, rubbing perfect figure eights into the little bundle of nerves. His lower lip caught between his teeth, brows furrowed and eyes focused. He looks so hot, gently stroking himself. Cautious in his movements so he's not pushing himself too far too soon.

He watches with bated breath as your hand slips lower between your legs, finger teasing your entrance with your eyes trained on his. Your jaw falls slack as soon as the digit pushes past your walls, eyes fluttering as a soft whimper of his name leaves your lips. “Holy shit.” He groans, picking up the pace of his hand as you do the same.

Not sure if it's the fact that he's watching you or the sight of him getting himself off to the sight of you, but you're speeding toward the edge quicker than you expect. Finger curling up into yourself, just barely grazing the rough patch of skin deep within. The heel of your palm nudging against your clit with a timed accuracy. Back arching as your whines grow louder.

“Fuck. Are you gonna cum?” Wildly in tune with your body, you can't even think to deny it. “Touch me,” You plead and he doesn't need to be told twice. Springing forward and landing his fingers on your clit, rolling it around underneath his touch. Your free hand lifts to wrap around his length, wrists twisting rhythmically. You feel the stutter of his fingers from the effects of your touch. 

All at once, the pressure built in your belly is snapping. Walls clenching around your fingers as your legs shake, eyes blurring as your orgasm washes over you. Jungkook's fingers are quick to replace yours the moment you're pulling out. Pushing deep inside of you and teasing your gspot. Just barely come down and you're already being thrust into a second orgasm, hands flying to grip his forearms.

“Jungkook, fuck. Please, please...” No idea what you're begging for, but the last thing you want is for this feeling to stop. He watches the way your hips move, fucking yourself on his fingers while your arousal leaks out your tight hole. Fists gripping the sheets as you squirm.

He doesn't pull back until your body is relaxing against the mattress, chest heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath. His fingers are wet with your juices, shining in the dull light of the bedroom. Quick to push them past his lips, moaning at the sweet taste of you coating his tongue.

Through hooded eyes, you watch the way his tongue moves between his fingers. Lapping up every last drop of you. As if he had just finished a five-course meal.

“You taste so good, baby.” He's mumbling out, a shy smile pushing onto his lips realizing that you've been watching him. Lowering himself between your legs, wet fingers pushing your hair out of your face. “Are you good to continue?” He smells like you and tastes like you when you lean up to kiss him.

You'd be crazy to say no, knowing how badly he wanted you. How badly you wanted him. The quick nod of your head is all he needs to cover your lips with his one last time, before lowering his body until his face is just inches from your throbbing clit. “Could spend all day down here,” He laughs out, soft lips pressing a wet kiss against your clit.

He doesn't need you to walk you through it, has paid you enough attention to know what you like. Diving it without an ounce of hesitance, tongue lapping against your wet hole. The tip of his nose pressed firmly against your clit, bumping against it so deliciously it has to be on purpose. He's got a tight grip on your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide for him.

Whiny moans vibrate against your pussy as he sucks your folds into his mouth, hand reaching for your clit. Pressing against it more deliberately, rolling it between his fingers as he works his tongue into your tight whole. Moving like a man starved, his groans are just as loud as your moans. Fingers gripping his hair to keep his head in place, hips lifting to meet the swirls of his tongue.

So wrapped in how good he's making you feel, you almost miss the steady rut of his hips. Shamelessly grinding his throbbing cock against the bedsheets. As if he's buried deep inside of you. With his tongue flat against your clit, he's pushing two fingers past your walls. Curling them deep inside of you. And you're seeing stars, back arching off the bed as a loud cry of his name falls from your lips.

Your entire body is on fire, legs shaking while your arousal flows out of you. His fingers continue to move at a steady pace, tongue flicking slowly against your clit until your loud moans are turning into desperate whines. Lips, chin, and nose shiny with your arousal, and all he does is smile. This big toothy grin that makes your heart flutter.

Just about delirious from coming three times in a row... and he hasn't even fucked you yet. God, you wanted him to fuck you. And you could tell he was holding back from doing just that, precum leaking from the tip of his cock staining the sheets. He wanted you too. But he was stalling.

His fingers move between your legs again, teasing your slit as he leans his head back down between your legs. Ready to make you cum with his mouth again. Your cunt throbs with overstimulation, positive that you wouldn't be able to take much more and you wanted to feel him before you were out for the count.

“F-fuck me, Jungkook. Please, I'm ready.” Fingers at his bangs, pushing them back so you can get a good look at his face. The way his movements stutter to a stop, eyes widening just slightly.

But he nods, kneeling back on his knees. Raking his own fingers through his hair, desperately trying to calm the nervous tick in his heart. You were so perfect. Laying beneath him, ready for him to fuck you. And there was nothing else he wanted to do, but he couldn't help but feel a bit of anxiety over it.

It was your first time after all. What if he fucked it up? Ruined it for you and then every single time you thought back to this moment you were filled with nothing but distaste. He just wanted to be perfect for you. And with the way you were looking at him, he felt like he could be. Felt like you thought he might be.

That was something, right?

“O-okay. Uhm...let me get a condom,” Clearing his throat awkwardly, he's cursing himself a million times for not sounding as confident as he should. With a huff, he's leaning over to reach for the bedside table, fishing through the drawer until his fingers are meeting the tiny foil packet.

He puts it on away from you, not wanting you to see him fumble with it due to the nervous shake of his fingers. Once it's secure in place he's moving back between your legs, nearly choking at the sultry look on your face. Long legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer.

And he feels like he can't breathe.

With his chest pressed against yours, you can feel the hammer of his heart almost perfectly. That paired with the flushed look on your face is enough to make you pull back, getting a better look at his face. “Are you alright? Your heart's beating so fast.”

“Yeah, I'm just nervous. Fuck and I don't even know why...” He's laughing at himself with a shake of his head. It was you. He shouldn't be nervous around you. Always felt so comfortable, so sure when he was with you.

But this was big. This was your first time and he felt like he had to be different for some reason. Better? Yet, little did he know he was exactly the way that you wanted. Just being himself. “Do you want to stop?”

He's shaking his head quickly, eyes widening as he reaches back to tighten your legs around his waist. “No! No. I want to feel you... you look so good,” The last part of his sentence comes out as a whine, his hips lifting to meet yours. The action alone pulling a soft moan from your lips. Almost knocking your train of thought from your head.

“If you're nervous...”

Jungkook is quick to cut you off with a kiss, fingers moving between your legs. Middle finger tapping against your clit before he's drawing circles over it. “Shh, shh... I'm fine.” His words are murmured against your lips, tongue jutting out to swipe over your lower lip. And with the insistent push of his cock against your thigh, you're convinced.

“Okay.” He's smiling, leaning back to take hold of himself. Large palm wrapping around his length, lining himself up with your slick entrance. Breathing out heavily before he's lifting his gaze to meet yours. “You ready?”

Legs spreading in response, you're quick to nod your head. Hands braced on either side of his torso, body laid flat on the mattress. “Mhm.”

Extremely cautious with the way he pushes past your walls, allowing you to feel every inch of him as you stretch for him. It's foreign and a little uncomfortable, he's taking his time, being careful not to hurt you. Stopping halfway to give you a chance to catch your breath, thumb rubbing circles against your clit as an attempt to soothe you.

It brings a bit of the pleasure back, but your eyes remained squeezed shut, blunt nails pressed into his skin. With his head bowed, he's allowing a glob of saliva fall from his lips and onto your pussy, treating it like a lube as he pushes the last few inches inside of you.

You can tell he's holding back, cheeks burned red, and brows furrowed. He's got a tight grip on the sheets above your head, the thick vein at the side of his neck throbbing. Slowly, he's dragging his hips back, pushing back in roughly.

“Fuck, Jungkook.” You gasp, surprised by the pleasure that mixes with the painful stretch. He repeats the action a few more times until he's feeling you loosen around him. But you're still squeezing him so tight. “You're so fucking tight, baby.” He whines, desperate to go faster, harder. Be greedy. 

He's pulling back until his mushroom head is catching against your hole, pushing forward with a loud whine. “I'm gonna cum. Fuck, you feel so good.” You're opening up nicely for him now, his cock slipping past your walls with ease and it's too good to bare. For both of you.

Much different from your fingers or his. And you're not ready for it to end yet. “Not yet.” You groan, fingers holding his hips steady you lift up to take control of the pace. Moving a lot slower, giving him the chance to collect himself. “Hold it, Kookie. Be good for me,”

Your words flip something deep inside him, turning on the compliance inside of him. He wanted to be good for you. Of course, he did, he always did. But hearing you say it just made him desire it more. But at the same time, he was right there. It would be hard to hold back, no matter how much he wanted to.

“I-I can't... Yn, baby.” Soft whines hit the shell of your ear, the grip he holds on your hips tightening, trying to get you to move faster. His face buried in the crook of your neck, sucking sloppy kisses into your skin. All while rutting against you urgently, clutching on to every bit of self-control he has not to finish until your say so.

And you can't help but enjoy it. Having him come apart for you like this. Fingers moving quickly over your clit, whining each time your walls clench around him. It's not long before the pressure is building in your stomach once again, your moans growing high pitched as his frantic thrusts become stuttered.

His head lifts, lips covering yours. His breathy moans dying on your tongue, growing as he feels the beginning effects of you cumming around him. With the flutter of your walls and the shake of your legs around him, he can't hold back anymore. “I'm...” He tries to warn you but is a second too late, already feeling the condom expanding inside of you.

Pretty moans fall from his lips as he cums, fingers continuing their movement between your legs through it all. He cums long and loudly, untimed thrusts hitting against your hips. Your fingers toy with his hair until he's calming down, placing soft kisses against the inches of skin you can reach.

He finishes with a curse, arms giving out and body collapsing onto yours. He's breathing heavily against you, vision blurry and sweat sticking your skin together. But you have no desire to move, enjoying the hammer of his heart against your chest. It matches yours.

It takes him a few moments to come to his senses, pulling out slowly when he does. You feel every inch of him on the way out, a soft moan following. He's quiet with discarded the used condom, cheeks flaming red paired with a dopey smile on his lips.

“What?” You laugh after the third time catching him staring, looking away with blushed cheeks. A soft chuckle falls from his lips, shoulders shrugging as he reaches for you. Gently tugging you into his embrace. “Nothing. I just... liked that?” His cheeks darken, eyes lifting to inspect the ceiling.

Insane how he quickly he could turn into this cute guy afraid of eye contact just seconds after begging you to let him cum. “Me too.” The tips of his fingers mindlessly trace the indents his abs make on his stomach. “It was perfect,” A large smile splits your lips, nodding your head at your own words.

Perfect was the best way to describe it. And it had everything to do with the fact that it was with him, save for anything else that occurred. It was perfect because it was Jungkook. Your head bobs in another affirmative nod, hand lifting to touch his cheek, turning his head down to you.

Kissing him sweetly for a moment, waking the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. A welcome feeling that comes each and every time his lips are on you. As if it were the first time. Everything felt like the first time when it was with Jungkook. “Yeah,” The grin grows on your lips, arms wrapping around his body and head finding his shoulder.

There's not a single thing you'd change about him. About you. About the two of you together. It was exactly what you wanted. 

“Just perfect,”

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you�� forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

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[buckyownsmylife]

Animal of the Night - Tom Hardy smut

The one where you decided to tempt Tom by wearing a sexy Venom costume.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, oral sex (m), spanking, dirty talk, name-calling, choking

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: this was requested by the lovely @jbreenr​ a while back and it’s finally here 😎

Tom’s P.O.V.

I’d been casually watching the door, waiting for her to arrive like it was no big deal, but it absolutely was. I’d been dying to see her ever since filming wrapped, but because there was still so much to be done until I could go back home and she was knees deep in some work herself, we’d agreed that we’d meet at this off-season Halloween party one of our friends was throwing. Even though I much preferred to be locked inside a room with her all night.

“Hey, man! What you’ve been up to?” I got distracted as the host of the night finally approached me to make some light conversation. It had been a while since we had the opportunity to chat - I’d been spending all my time in the city at her apartment or mine, consequently ignoring our group of friends as I’d much rather be buried deep inside of her, but I had to admit that I did miss the guys.

Not enough to stop me from wishing I was alone with her, though.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve been so absent. You know… work. What have you been up to?” I accepted the beer he was offering as well as the hug, throwing one last glance at the door before turning my body to fully concentrate on him.

“Just the usual. Work hard and play hard. Not a lot going on at the moment.” I nodded, taking a swig of the beer before I realized I should probably ask about the rest of the gang.

“What about everyone else? Is something different going on?” Tyler seemed to think for a moment - it’s never too easy to come up with stuff to talk about when put at the spot, I should know that - but then his eyebrows shot up and a big smile opened on his face, clear indications that he had thought of something interesting.

“Yeah! I don’t know if you’ve heard this already, I know you two are kinda close, but with you being away… Apparently, Y/N has a boyfriend.” My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach at that, panic clawing my insides and begging me to start yelling.

How could she start dating and not tell me about it? Sure, she was free to find a boyfriend, what we had wasn’t exactly official, and consequently, not exclusive, but I thought I deserved at least some update when she found someone to replace me.

The thought of her being with anyone else burned me to the core, and I held the bottle of beer so tightly I was surprised it didn’t break. Grinding my teeth so Tyler wouldn’t realize there was something wrong, I asked as monotonously as I could, “Oh, really? Who’s the guy?” But all I got was a shrug.

“We don’t know, she hasn’t introduced him to anyone yet. We just assume that’s the case because she’s been skipping all of our meetings but when she does come, she giggles at her phone all the time.”

She used to do that with me. When we were all out and I’d text her something I couldn’t say out loud. I always found it adorable, and the idea of her giggling for someone else’s stupid jokes almost made me puke on the spot.

“It’s no wonder she’s been keeping him hidden, really,” Tyler continued, completely oblivious to what I was going through. “She always did like the bad boy types.”

That comment made me frown, thinking back on her exes. In all the time that we had known each other, she had only had a handful of boyfriends - but maybe those were just the ones she introduced me to. The only thing that they seemed to have in common was their absolute inability to treat her how she deserved to be treated, so while I didn’t necessarily think that she had a type, if there was one way to define them, it would definitely be as “bad”.

“Mind if I join you, boys?” A seductive and familiar voice came from behind me, instinctively making me stand up straighter before turning around.

“Oh, fuck…” I heard Tyler comment at the same time that I took in her costume, my eyebrows shooting up as he continued, “You look fucking hot!” and I spilled out, “What the hell are you wearing?”

Y/N frowned, looking down at her own clothing like she had honestly forgotten what it was that she was dressed into - a sexy, slutty version of my venom character, barely recognizable with the lack of fabric.

“I’m venom!” She excitedly exclaimed, looking up at me again with a huge grin. “I thought you’d be the first to recognize it. What kind of an actor are you, really?”

Tyler chuckled behind us, but I could only focus on the woman looking up at me, provoking all sort of conflicting feelings to course through my body. There was jealousy and longing, desire and possessiveness. All I knew was that I needed to get her in a secluded environment in the next five minutes, or I would publicly explode.

“Come here with me, will ya?” I took her by the elbow, effortlessly moving us through the crowd of our drunk friends until I found an empty room I could shove her in, paying no attention to Tyler’s low whistle as we left him behind.

Once the door was safely closed, I turned around to stare down at her, really taking in her outfit. “I thought you knew better than to tease me like this,” I chastised, clicking my tongue as a smirk painted my lips at seeing her shiver when my voice dropped. Boyfriend or no boyfriend, I could still pull a reaction from her.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“We have quite a lot of things to discuss, little girl…” I bit my lower lip in an attempt to reel myself in and remain motionless, instead of just jumping on the man I was so desperate to feel up.

It’d been way too fucking long. Any time apart from Tom was already hard on me, but ever since we started fucking, any night I had to spend without his gorgeous body hovering over mine was particularly painful to me.

Which is why I decided to wear this “sexy” Venom costume. Even though he offered to meet me back in my place, I knew he missed his friends - our friends - and this way, we could get everything we wanted.

I just had to make his resolve crack so he’d pull me into the nearest bedroom and bang me five ways into tomorrow, and later we’d rejoin the party and mingle again.

By the way my night had been going, I could see I was very close to getting what I wanted.

Tilting my head to the side, the picture-perfect idea of the innocent little girl he always liked to treat me as, I asked, “What’s wrong, daddy?”

Tom’s reaction was… surprising. His mouth fell open, his fists curled and he stood there watching me until suddenly he was all over me, pulling me to stand on my tiptoes so our lips could connect.

I moaned into the kiss, briefly forgetting about his odd behavior as the familiar taste of him invaded my mouth. “God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned when we parted, leaving me almost dizzy with desire as I rapidly blinked a few times to be able to focus on him once more.

“What would your boyfriend think about you being locked up in a bedroom with me, wearing this, huh, sweetheart?” And now I was back to confused. What the hell was he talking about?

“Boyfriend?” I asked, pushing him away just enough to look him in the eye. Tom’s expression was inscrutable as he stared down at me with that fire in his eyes that never failed to make me shiver.

“Yes, boyfriend. Tyler told me all about it,” he commented, shrugging as if it was no big deal, yet his fingers pressed tightly against my hips, keeping me close to him. The anger was clear in every single one of his features.

I could read between the lines. I knew Tom like the back of my hand, through the years of friendship and now… whatever the hell this was. The hint of possessiveness was there, just threatening to take over, and my God was I desperate to see how it would play out.

“What did Tyler say?” I asked, looking up at him from under my eyelashes as I tried not to let my smile grow, so he wouldn’t catch up onto what was happening earlier than I wanted him to.

“That you’ve been skipping outings and whenever you do go, you’re always staring at your phone and giggling.” I bit my lip so I wouldn’t giggle right then, turning away from him in the hopes of hiding my expression.

When I turned around once more, his eyebrows were raised. It was clear he wanted an explanation, so I cleared my throat and tried to speak as seriously as I was able to do at that moment.

“Oh, right…” I didn’t deny it, fiddling with some random knick knacks on the bedside table. “You mean… like I do when I’m talking to you?”

Looking at him over my shoulder, I watched as realization suddenly hit, and that’s when I couldn’t control myself anymore. I dropped to my knees before him, mouth watering just at the prospect of having that delicious cock of his deep in my throat, filling my mouth.

A beautiful blush spread over his chest as he panted over me, a sign of just how affected he was, with his lustful eyes watching my every movement when I started to suck on his member.

“What about the costume?” He asked, making me giggle when I pulled back to answer, but kept my hands working his cock, keeping him hard and ready for me.

“I just wanted to tempt you.” A growl escaped his chest, making me even wetter just as he reached for my hair and pulled me back to my feet.

“You should have reconsidered if you wanted my dick anywhere near you.” I whined when I realized what he meant. Even though I loved his punishments, I was aching for his cock, and he was right - I wanted it now. So maybe I should have thought twice before looking for this slutty venom costume just so I could rile him up. “Now I’m gonna have to spank the shit out of you.”

He bent me over the bed, pushing the cheap fabric of my clothing to my stomach and exposing my naked pussy to his gaze. “You’re such a whore,” he chuckled when he realized I had forgone any type of underwear, and I found myself rubbing my thighs to get some relief from hearing him call me names.

Should I feel bad that it got me so hot? Oh, well. There was really nothing I could do about it except hope he would take care of me eventually.

Tom’s P.O.V.

Witnessing her pleasure in being humiliated like this only added to my frustration. She really was the perfect woman for me, but instead of ravishing her like I wished I could do, I’d have to entertain myself with her delectable ass, all ‘cause she decided to behave like a slut to catch my attention.

“You look so delicious, darling,” I teased her by running my fingers over her pussy lips, gathering some of the nectar already threatening to spill from there. “It’s a shame you misbehaved.”

I let my hand fall over her right cheek then, startling her so I could hear her yelp. I knew she got off on the pain - it was another thing that I loved about her - but it wouldn’t be half as fun if she didn’t pretend this truly was a punishment, huh?

“Can’t reward that kind of teasing,” I kept admonishing her, slowly inserting a finger into her hole, frustrating the both of us further just so I could have her trembling in anticipation, trying to guess what type of touch I’d grant her next.

But I needed to get this show on the road so I could fuck her properly, so abandoning all type of play, I laid slap after slap on her ass, watching it bounce back after each spank, hearing her moans before they were drowned by the sounds of the party downstairs.

“Daddy!” She moaned, clinging to my thigh, making me even harder inside my jeans. She really did love getting her ass spanked, and I loved her ass, so I’d take any opportunity to get my hands on it.

“You know how long I’ve been dreaming of burying myself deep inside this pussy, little girl? Do you?” I snarled, hearing her whimpers like they were music to my ears. “And then you pull shit like this, and how the fuck am I supposed to keep myself together long enough to tame your bratty ass?”

Her thighs began to tremble, fingernails biting on the skin of my thigh. I knew what this meant, so I immediately stopped spanking her, pulling her by her hair so I could whisper in her ear, “I know you’re a whore, but no cumming before I have my dick inside of you, got it?”

She cried out at the authoritative tone in my voice, but I knew her well enough by now to know that she wasn’t done testing me yet. “You can’t control my orgasm,” she dared to fight me. “You don’t own me. I’m not yours.”

I clutched her throat, cutting off her air so I wouldn’t have to listen to any more of her shit.

“Shut. Up.” Her eyes were wide when I threw her on the bed, pulling her by the ankles so her legs were dangling off of it, keeping her on her stomach as I unbuckled my belt.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” I complained as I climbed up her body and forced her legs open as wide as they could go, considering the position, and slid home. I knew it wouldn’t hurt her because she was already dripping, but I also knew she’d feel the stretch from being without me for so long.

Call me sentimental, but I didn’t feel like I had to ask to know she hadn’t been with anyone else, considering our previous conversation.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“You didn’t say shit like that when I had you over my lap, screaming for your daddy, huh?” He taunted, hand pulling on my hair once more as the other held my hips down, granting him the leverage he needed to fuck me against the mattress. “Or when I fucked you so hard that you couldn’t walk without feeling me for a week.”

That was a fun day. Memories of our last time together rushed through me, adding to my arousal, especially once I remembered how smug he was when I told him about my difficulties to walk during our weekly calls.

It was good to know he’d thought about it so much that it still lived in his mind, all those months later.

“Should have known I’ve owned you ever since I shoved my cock inside this tight little pussy, sweetheart.” I shivered when he whispered the warning against my ear, voice low and seductive like that night he took me in a bar’s bathroom before taking me home. It’d been the culmination of years of sexual frustration and dirty dreams, and I still thought about it every time I had to get myself off.

“How did you think this would go?” He questioned, incredulity clear in his tone. “Did you think you could fuck me until you were tired and then I’d let you go find a little boy toy you could control? Oh, no, darling.”

“There’s no going back anymore, little girl.” The threat had me coming around him, eyes rolling to the back of my head as the entire moment became too much for my poor hungry body to handle.

I’d always been known for biting off more than I could chew, but honestly, I’d rather die than waste the opportunity to be owned like this by Tom fucking Hardy.

“I’m not gonna leave this pussy, sweetheart,” he continued, like he was honestly telling me something that I didn’t want to happen. “Ever.” To drive his point home, he kept fucking me through my orgasm, pulling on my hair as my moans became whimpers and my hands bunched up the sheets of a stranger’s bed.

“It’s mine now.” With that, he pulled me back enough that he could meet my gaze, allowing me to witness him panting with his own pleasure, eyes darkened as he took in how my body folded to abide by his wishes. “You’re mine,” he announced, such firmness in his tone that any doubt that could have lived inside of me instantly disappeared.

I knew this wasn’t just dirty talk anymore. He was telling me the truth - he was warning me of a fact, now. My body belonged to him.

Still, I guess even he needed to be reassured from time to time, because the next thing to fall from his lips was a plead, “Tell me that you want me.” His cock kept plunging in and out of my cavern, caressing my oversensitive walls in that way I loved so much. “Say that you are mine.”

I didn’t even hesitate before granting him exactly what he wanted.

“I’m yours, daddy, all yours!” I cried out, entire body trembling underneath his,  desperate to make sure he heard me so he wouldn’t keep me away from my second orgasm of the night. “Oh, God!” I pleaded, fucking myself back against him. “Please don’t stop, daddy! Please!

Tom’s P.O.V.

“I’m not gonna stop, darling,” I assured her, hands caressing her back in an effort to calm her down. “Not until I feel you clenching around me.” A groan escaped me when I felt her do just that, and I didn’t know if it was on purpose or if another orgasm had hit her.

“Why would I ever stop fucking you?” I was babbling now, I knew - delirious with my own pleasure, trying to get her to cum one last time before me so she could milk my orgasm in that way only she knew how. “Best fucking pussy I ever fucked, would never leave you if I could.”

A strangled cry escaped her, right when blinding white bliss took over my sight and I pulled out just in time to stroke my release over her ass, grunting in the relief that followed.

“Fuck, I love you,” I whispered to the silence of the room before she turned around from underneath me, unworried about dirtying up the bed that didn’t belong to either of us.

Pulling me by my shirt, she whispered against my lips, “I love you more, daddy.”

[maddiwrites]

The Hybrid (Prologue)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: So happy to be back with another series!!! I honestly really missed posting. Unlike Secrets of the Shore, updates will be slower because I don’t have them all written out yet. A couple things I wanted to let you know before you read. I based Y/N’s family off of Gilmore Girls. I thought they were the perfect fit for this story and the show in general and I just love their dynamic. (Including Luke who I renamed Steve for obvious reasons). Chapter 1 will explain more obviously but I wanted to give you guys a little snippet of the characters and relationships. So let me know what y'all think!

Word Count: 3.3k

Outer Banks. Paradise on Earth. It's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island. As you know, the Outer Banks is essentially divided into two groups. If we want to be blunt - it’s the rich and the poor. Figure Eight is home to the rich. Aka the Kooks. With houses bigger than necessary with extra rooms that go untouched, boats the size of homes on the Cut - the other side of the island. Most people who live on Figure Eight are your naturally raised assholes. People who don’t know the value of a dollar and take advantage of people who do most of their dirty work that lets them prance around the island with perfectly manicured fingernails. These hard workers are the Pogues. They live on the south side of the island where most Kooks wouldn’t be found dead. They serve fancy meals at the country club for shitty tips, mow lawns, and work their asses off at any other job for minimum wage. The drastic difference in lifestyles tend to cause many spats and arguments between the two communities. Especially between the teenagers who still don’t know how to control their raging emotions or know when to bite back their tongue. For the Kooks, every fight is a fight for dominance where as the Pogues fight for equality - to put the Kooks in their place. Many of these fights happen at summer parties where the two groups clash to find a good time with their friends filled with alcohol, drugs, and good music.

That’s where they find themselves tonight. The infamous Pogues. John B, JJ, Kie, Pope, and now Sarah Cameron. Although born a natural Kook, she’s earned her spot next to the adventurous teens and her boyfriend. Unlike her brother Rafe who basically is the leader of his notorious group. Topper and Kelce are his best friends who follow him blindly.

The Pogues watch them from their spot surrounding the keg. Kie purses her lips in distaste as the boys cat call for the ladies around them. Somehow most of them finding it flattering. Sarah sips on her beer to hide her embarrassment, often wondering how she and her brother grew up to be so different. Pope and John B stay mostly disinterested, only worried if they try to make a pass at an unwilling girl or fire a degrading comment at their short tempered friend. JJ Maybank is known around the island for his trouble making behavior. Usually if he gets in trouble for fights, no one ever asks who the other people were in the scuffle. Because if JJ Maybank is in the fight, he’s the one who started it, right? Wrong. In fact, JJ usually is never the one to start it. He’s good at keeping his head down and only speaking when spoken to when it comes to the Kooks - the only form of advice worth taking from his father. But his short temper is something the Kooks his age loved to take advantage of because they liked getting a rise out of him. It was like an adrenaline rush.

Luckily, tonight both groups were keeping their distance, either only talking to each other or random Tourons that have found their way to the party. This is usually JJ’s favorite part of a boneyard party. Finding his one fish in a sea of many that he can reel in just for the night and never have to worry about seeing them again.

He has his eyes set on a beautiful blonde making her way to the bonfire when all of a sudden Kie’s voice pulls him out of his trance.

“What’s she doing here?”

JJ follows her line of vision, spotting you walking down the wooden steps that lead to the beach, pulling your best friend behind you by his wrist. He first notices your smile and how it brightens up your entire face. Then of course his eyes scan down your slim but athletically toned body. You’re wearing a pair of jean shorts and a cropped white T shirt that says UNC across the chest. Who knew someone could look so good without even trying?

Well JJ did. He’s known it for a while.

“Careful. I think you’re drooling,” John B whispers in his best friend’s ear.

JJ pushes him away and mutters, “Shut up. No I’m not.”

But maybe he was.

Y/N Y/L/N is a unique resident of the island. Unlike majority of the island, she doesn’t fall in either Kook or Pogue category. She’s what everyone calls the Hybrid.

People who work hard for what they have but haven’t fallen to be Pogue status. Quite literally living in the middle in a place they call the Crest.

Your story is well versed among the gossipers of the island (which tends to be just about everybody).  And mainly that’s because of who your grandparents are.  Claude and Doris Y/L/N. Two of the riches people on the island, living in a three story house on the beach. Many people fear them, others envy them. Most feel both. Even Ward Cameron walks on egg shells around them, which is quite often, considering he works for Claude. They’re the kind of people who have never heard of Barefoot wine or Walmart. They keep their noses up and turn a blind eye to the suffering communities around them. Thirty four years ago, Doris gave birth to a daughter that couldn’t be more opposite than them. Lorelai Y/L/N was a wild child. A rule breaker. She snuck out at nights, dated boys her parents would never approve of, dabbled in breaking the law here and there. It didn’t matter how many times her parents disciplined her. She always managed to make her parents’ life a living hell. 

No one was surprised when word got passed around that Lorelai had gotten pregnant at eighteen. Although it was with another Kook, she brought shame upon her family name when she refused to get an abortion, even when her mom tried dragging her by her hair. 

Lorelai risked everything by running away from her parents’ home in the middle of a windy night. With only one suitcase, the baby daddy out of the picture, and less than a grand in her pocket, she managed to make a life for herself on the South side of the island. She worked two jobs, found an affordable apartment for cheap rent, and managed to save some money before her babies were born.

Yes, babies. As in more than one. Five months after running away from home, she gave birth to twin girls and they instantly became her entire life. With the help of her best friend Steve, who she met one month after being on her own, meeting him at his automotive shop when she very much literally rolled her junky car into the garage, she raised you and your sister on the Cut. The two of you are her greatest accomplishment. Every now and then, she mentally throws up a middle finger to everybody who doubted her, proud of who the two of you have become. 

Right before you turned ten, your mom took a business risk and opened her own Cafe. The Bikini Beans cafe, very popular amongst both Kooks and Pogues. The business did so well that she was able to move the three of you out of your shitty apartment into a beautiful one story home with three bedrooms in between the Cut and Figure Eight, aka the Crest, the summer going into your freshman year.

You actually used to be best friends with John B Routledge, JJ Maybank, and Pope Heyward. It was easier being friends with them than the girls, finding more joy in sports and rough housing than makeup and gossip. 

Doing the same summer that you moved, your mom pulled you out of Kildare County High and placed you in Outer Banks Private Academy. Aka Kook Academy. Around this time, your grandparents had also become more involved in your life, and you wondered if they had somehow bribed your mom into forcing you to transfer schools. You tried asking her during one of your many fights that started with you begging her to keep you at Kildare County High, but she quickly shut you down and told you to be grateful. That was ironic coming from the woman who ran away from the people giving her an expensive high school career. 

You had no choice but to do what your grandparents wanted and attend Kook Academy. Making friends was a lot harder there than it was in Kildare County High. You managed to make one friend in your freshman year. Andre Cortez. Due to an incident a couple years back, you built thick walls and Andre was the only one able to break them down. You were grateful for your friendship, but hanging out with him was nothing like hanging out with the Pogues. 

When you transferred schools, you lost touch with the Pogues slowly. Your life became busy with school and playing dress up for your grandparents and the boys were starting to work. Eventually all contact was cut and ever since, you’ve felt a void in your heart.

“Look,” You tell Andre. “I told you I would be your wing woman and I’m not backing down from what could possibly be the most important role in my life.”

You didn’t notice the Pogues or any of the stares around you. It’s true you’re not much of a party girl. I mean, you’ll go out here and there, have a drink or two, but you felt more comfortable at places where you weren’t surrounded by drunk and horny teenagers. 

“He’s probably not even here,” Andre says. He’s trying to look nonchalant but you notice the way his eyes dance from face to face of the people around him. 

“He told you he was going to be here, right?” You ask him with one brow raised. Andre nods. “Then, we’ll find him.”

Sarah and Kie never made any effort to talk to you at school, but to be fair, neither have you. You’ve heard mixed reviews, some people call them spoiled brats, ungrateful...some even go as far as calling them ‘The Cut Sluts.’ Of course you never take any of those things to heart. You can’t judge a book but it's cover. Plus, they’re friends with your old best friends. They can’t be that bad for John B and JJ and Pope to be hanging out with them, right?

“You think she'll come over here?” Kie asks. No one’s ever said it out loud, but her friends wonder if deep down, Kie was a little jealous of you. Because you were their first real girl friend. You were the first girl they ever let in and opened their heart too. That was a tough pill for Kie to swallow when she originally thought she was that girl. Of course the boys don’t like you any more than Kie and vice versa. But sometimes Kie wishes she could have grown up with the boys the same way you had. 

“Probably not. Unless she’s drinking,” Pope says and motions towards the keg they’re near. 

“I have an idea,” John B says and fills up a red solo cup. He hands it to JJ. “Why don’t you go offer her a cup.”

JJ snags the cup out of John B’s hand and glares at him. “Fuck off, dude.” 

“Do you guys ever see her around at school?” Pope asks the girls.

Sarah shrugs. “Not really. She doesn’t really get a long with my old group of friends.”

Kie rolls her eyes. “No one gets along with your old group of friends.”

Sarah playfully shoves Kie by the shoulder and they laugh. 

“I heard she turned down Raymond Easterling a couple weeks ago and he didn’t take it very well,” Pope says, remembering the words he heard from the kids in his class roaming the school hallways. 

Raymond goes to Kildcare County High with the Pogues. He’s known to be a trouble maker and a class clown. He works with JJ at the country club. The kid can make JJ laugh sometimes, but he wouldn’t necessarily say he likes him all that much. He can be an arrogant asshole with an ego bigger than it should be.

“She turns down everybody,” Sarah says. “Some people at my school call her ‘The Heart Sucker’ because she can pull people in with the snap of her fingers and break their heart just as quickly.”

Something stirred in the pit of JJ’s stomach.

“Hey! Where you going?” John B calls out to JJ who’s making his way deeper into the sea of people on the beach. 

“Taking advantage of a good boneyard party, my friend,” JJ calls back and slugs the rest of his beer. Looking left and right, he searches for the blonde he had eyes on earlier. Because right now, he needed a distraction. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The party starts to die down a little after midnight. Some people leave to find another party, some are passed out in the back of their cars, and others had already found what they were looking for - someone to leave with. 

The boneyard party wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be. You had found a couple of kids from your school who were nice enough to make small talk with you while Andre left to find a guy named Devon, a Touron he’s been talking to who’s renting for the entire summer. 

Now you’re waiting for Andre to come back so the two of you can walk home. You find comfort under a slanted palm tree towards the back of the beach, scrolling through random apps on your phone to pass the time.

“Y/N?” You look up from you phone and smile when you see your former best friend inching closer to you, squinting in the dark to see if it’s really you. 

“Maybank? What are you still doing here?” You stand up and pat the sand off your hands on you thighs. 

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you look at him. He’s beautiful. Lucious blonde hair, perfectly tanned skin, piercing blue eyes. You always knew JJ was going to grow up to be gorgeous. He was cute when he was younger. At least you always thought so. 

“I was just leaving, but I thought I saw you sitting here and wanted to make sure you were all right.” He knows it’s not like you to stay this late at a party, especially all by yourself. When he first saw you sitting there, he didn’t know if he should say something. Mostly due to nerves of seeing you again. But the other Pogues had already left and he didn’t trust anyone else at the party to be near you alone late at night. It didn’t matter if you were sober or not. 

“Aw. Was JJ Maybank worried about me?” You tease. Talking to him felt easy. As if you never stopped being friends. A few years ago, you and JJ had the best banter. Despite constantly bickering back and forth, John B always swore the two of you would get married one day. The two of you just always clicked like a natural connection. And even now, when only seeing each other every now and then for a few minutes at a time, it felt normal. You smirk when JJ rolls his eyes. “I’m kidding. Yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for my friend to come back from his little rendezvous,” You say. 

JJ nods. “Did you have a good time? I feel like I never you see at these things.”

“Yeah. Parties aren’t really my thing. But Andre was nervous to meet this guy he’s been talking to for a little while so I came for moral support.”

“Looks like he didn’t need much of the support.”

You shrug. “It’s better that way, anyway. I don’t mind waiting for him. What about you?”

“What about me?” 

“Did you have a good time tonight? I hear your quite the ladies’ man at these things.”

“Come on, Sparky. You know better than to believe everything you hear.”

Your face lights up at the mention of your old nickname. You use to always be busting out the seams with energy. On days where the boys just wanted to chill and play video games, you would drag them to the park for a game of kick ball. Or when they wanted to sleep in after a long week, you showed up at 8 am to drag them out of bed to catch the morning waves. So one day JJ started calling you Sparky, and it stuck with the rest of your little gang. You always pretended to hate it, but secretly you loved it. 

“Oh I don’t believe everything I hear. I do, however, believe what I see. And your arm around that tall blonde in the little black dress looked quite convincing.”

You first saw JJ at the party when he was making his way to the pretty girl by the water. Your teeth involuntarily clenched and there was a twisted feeling in your stomach you couldn’t shake whenever you looked at them. 

In that instant, JJ felt grateful for the dark sky. He felt the rush of heat rise up his neck to his cheeks before he could stop it. He knew the motivation to see that girl was because of you. He just wished you never saw it. But he didn’t know why. 

“I walked her home. She wasn’t my type,” JJ plays it off. 

“I didn’t realize you had a type,” You giggle, but a small part felt relieved to hear this. “So what is it? Your type?”

Hybrids with a Pogue attitude, bright smile, beautiful eyes, and a mouth that could make any sailor turn around, JJ thought. 

“I don’t know. Haven’t figured it out yet.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Well, when you figure it out let me know.”

“Why? So you can transform into my ideal girl?” He teases.

Now you’re the one thankful for the dark sky. “In your dreams, Maybank. But so far, I do have the perfect wing-woman track record, so if you needed help -”

“I don’t think I need any help in that department. Thank you very much.”

You throw your hands up in fake surrender. “Ooo. Touchy subject.”

JJ rolls his eyes at the same time your phone pings with a text message. You pull it out of your shorts pocket and open the text from Andre, telling you to leave without him because he’s gonna stay out late with Devon and won’t know what time he’s going to be done.

“Everything all right?” JJ says, watching you read the message.

You lock your phone and stuff it in your back pocket again. “Like I said. Perfect wing-woman track record.”

“That was Andre?” 

“Yeah. He’s most likely not coming home tonight.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“At least one of us is,” You joke. 

JJ’s grin slightly falters but you don’t catch it. You have no idea how much he wishes the two of you could be equally as lucky. Together. 

“Well, I should probably go,” You say and bend down to grab your flip flops.

“Let me walk you home,” JJ offers. 

“Oh no. It’s okay -”

“You’re cute. It’s wasn’t up for debate. I’m not letting you walk back by yourself.”

You scoff lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Just humor me.”

You roll your eyes and smirk but choose not to argue. In fact, you’re excited to spend more time with JJ. It’s been so long.

“Fine.”

“And here I thought you might’ve grown out of your stubborn phase by now.”

You shove him playfully by the shoulder. “Shut up!”

And just like that, it felt like old times.

[deanstead]

Reel to Real

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Request by anon: hiii! can i request a dean winchester x reader where they have to fake date for case and they end up confessing their feelings for each other by the end of it?? please and thank you so much!!!

Warnings: mention of suicide (kind of), mention of injury/passing out

A/N: First Dean Request! Sorry I’ve been having a drought since the end of Supernatural but here it is! Hope you like what I did with it, thanks for the request! Dean requests are open, so please feel free to send in an ask! ^^

---

Dean leaned over, putting his arm around you in the diner.

You felt your heartbeat spike, although you knew all Dean was doing was pretending. You looked around the diner, trying to memorise the faces that were here, pausing slightly on Sam who was seated at the other end, not looking at the both of you.

You guys had no idea what you were hunting. What you did know was that it was couples that went missing and that they all stopped at this diner – which made sense considering it was the only diner for miles.

But because of the fact that couples were disappearing, that left you to have to play a couple with Dean. Dean who could make your heart jump out of your chest with just a smile or a little chuckle. But you had to remain cool.

You let out a breath as Dean looked down at you. “You okay?”

You looked up into his green eyes and gulped, smiling. “Yeah.”

You shook your head. You had to focus.

“What can I get the both of you?” The waitress came by, smiling.

Dean looked back up and smiled. “We’ll both have the cheeseburger. And two coffees.”

The waitress smiled as she wrote down the order. “New in town?” She asked, her eyes lingering a little too long on Dean.

Dean smiled. “Road tripping with my girl.” His hand tightening a little around your shoulder, his fingers running down your upper arm. Dean was a natural.

A small disappointed smile flitted across the young waitress face as she waved her order pad. “I’ll get your orders in.”

But the diner was a complete washout. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary – no EMF, no cold spots, nothing.

“Maybe just showing yourselves has already set something in motion, let’s just hang tight for a while more.” Sam reassured you as the three of you pulled up at the motel after leaving the diner.

You nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Dean tossed Sam a key. “That’s yours.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Gotta keep up the act.” Dean said, winking at you. “After you.” He said, swinging the door open.

Great, now you had to share a room with Dean. That wasn’t going to be pretty.

Sam smirked. “Later, lovebirds.”

You would have kicked Sam if you had been near enough. Instead, you rolled your eyes and headed into the room, dropping your bag off at the entrance.

“Dean.” You sent him a glance, as you stood in front of the king sized bed.

Dean grinned. “Come on, you love sleeping with me. At least I don’t snore.” He pointed to the wall.

You chuckled. “Point taken.”

By the time both of you had settled in, you were itching for a drink. “I’m gonna go grab something from the vending machine downstairs. You want anything?”

Dean looked up from where he was loading his gun and nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

You raised an eyebrow and Dean shrugged. “Hey, I’m just being a good boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes. “You really think this thing is watching us?”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe.” He looked out the window, tucking the gun into his pants. “Come on.”

You followed Dean out, heading straight for the vending machines as Dean leaned against the wall outside the room, his eyes following you. You looked around as you reached the vending machine. It was quiet. A little… too quiet.

Dean seemed to share the sentiment as he looked at you from across the lot, his eyes roving the deserted lot.

You jumped as the canned drink fell with a loud thud. Now you were just scaring yourself.

You shook your head, chuckling at yourself when you felt a pair of hands grab you.

The last thing you saw was a blue light, as the sounds of Dean yelling your name faded out.

---

Dean groaned as he opened his eyes, the room swimming in front of him. He looked down, his hands tied securely to a chair. “What the…”

He looked up again and that’s when he saw you, your head lolling to the side. “Y/N? Y/N!”

Dean’s eyes darted around the room, his hunter instincts coming to the foreground, trying to find a way out. He needed to get to you.

The sound of footsteps made him look up again.

“Oh you’re awake.” It was a female voice and Dean growled as he noticed the markings along her arm.

Djinn.

“So you’re the one responsible for the couples disappearing? What, is this like a fetish of sorts?”

The female djinn laughed. “One for me, one for my partner. I happen to like the guys, he the girls.” She motioned her head towards you, where another male djinn was circling you.

“You stay the hell away from her!” Dean yelled, before turning furiously back to the female djinn in front of him. “What did you do to her?”

The female djinn just chuckled. “You are really a couple, aren’t you?” She cooed. “My partner prefers to feed on dreams and desires, you know their happy place.” Dean growled again but she continued, “I, on the other hand, like to leave my prey awake. At least, at first. It’s always tastier when the males get all... protective.” Her hand glowed as she touched Dean’s forehead.

Dean groaned as he was touched, before his eyes rolled back.

---

Your eyes snapped open and you sat up, panting as if you had run a marathon. You were in an unfamiliar room that seemed too… homely?

You were extremely confused and you crawled out of bed. You frowned. There was too much crap here, things you never thought you’d see. Photo frames of you and Dean littered around the shelves. What kind of crazy world was this?

You closed your eyes, trying to remember something, anything, but you came up blank, it was like your whole life had been erased and now you were standing in the middle of what seemed to be your house that you had no recollection of.

“Y/N?”

Your head snapped up.

“Dean.” You breathed, glad of at least one thing.

“How did we get here?” You asked.

Dean’s brow furrowed a little in confusion before he smiled. “Still asleep? Go on, get ready then come out for breakfast.”

You cocked your head to the side, wondering what the hell was going on.

In slight confusion, you re-entered the room after getting dressed to see Dean dressed… nothing like Dean. “Dean, what’s going on?” You asked again.

Dean frowned a little. “Honey, you okay?” He reached out to touch you as a searing pain ripped through your skull and you thought you heard Sam’s voice.

You spun around. “Sam?”

Dean, who was sitting in front of you raised an eyebrow. “Y/N?”

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the headache but images were now flashing in your brain. The Dean in front of you wasn’t talking but you could hear his voice in your head, calling your name over and over.

You dragged your chair back, standing up and moving backwards.

“This isn’t real.”

You looked around, at everything that was almost too perfect. The happy pictures of you and Dean, Dean standing over the breakfast he had made you, the too-perfect life in a too-perfect house.

“This isn’t real.” You repeated.

You sprinted to the kitchen counter, grabbing a knife.

“Y/N wait!” The Dean in front of you called out. Everything felt so real that you were worried you were going to give in to him.

“Don’t do it, honey. Put the knife down.” He said, his hands outstretched, those green eyes you loved so much staring back at you.

You shook your head again.

“Honey, look at me, it’s me. It’s Dean. Your Dean.” The words bounced around in your head.

“Out there? That’s not real. This is real. You can stay here with me, for the rest of your life, we can be happy together.”

You could feel the strong magnetic pull towards this Dean, this Dean that loved you, this Dean that wanted to be with you.

This Dean that was fake.

You ground your teeth against each other.

“No.” You spat before you ground the knife into your heart.

---

“Dean!” Sam yelled, pushing a syringe filled with the antidote straight into Dean.

Dean gasped, his eyes snapping open, panting.

“Sammy?” Dean was still panting.

Sam yanked off the ropes. “You’re okay. Take this.” He handed him a knife dipped in blood.

“Y/N.” Dean breathed, “Where is she?”

Sam spun around. Your head was still lolling by the side, the colour slowly leaving your face.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean breathed, running towards you, Sam following close behind him.

“Y/N, Y/N!” Dean called, as Sam pulled the restraints off and you collapsed into Dean’s arms. “Damn it.” He cursed.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled again as your eyes fluttered open. “Oh my god.” He breathed.

“Y/N, you with me?” Dean called again, his voice frantic.

You fought against the fog in your brain. “Dean?” You mumbled. “The real Dean?”

Dean sighed. “Yes, I’m right here, okay?”

“Dean!” Sam yelled. Dean spun around, his eyes falling on the two djinn.

Dean growled, propping you against the chair. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

You were slowly starting to get the energy back in your limbs and you pushed yourself up as Dean growled at the male djinn, plunging the blood-stained knife deep into his chest.

His howl of pain was drowned out by the cry of rage from his partner who was struggling with Sam.

Dean ran towards his brother as she pushed Sam off of her, lunging at Dean.

He dropped to the ground, rolling towards the side before pulling the knife upwards again.

It was over.

“Hey, come on.” Before you knew it, Dean was back next to you. “You okay?”

You smiled and nodded. “Great.”

Dean still held you close to him as he pulled you upwards, supporting you as best he could as he followed Sam out.

---

You weren’t sure if you really still wanted to be here but both Sam and Dean had somehow convinced you that it was still better to sleep it off before the three of you headed back to the bunker.

“Can I ask?” Dean said softly, sitting down next to you on the bed.

You looked up at him.

“You scared me back there.” Dean offered. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You cracked a small smile. “I’ll be honest, you almost did. It was a perfect world.”

You went silent again although you could feel Dean’s eyes upon you.

“You kept dying.” Dean whispered and your eyes snapped back up.

You turned towards him. “What?”

“That was my fear. The one that kept replaying. Losing you.”

Your eyebrows shot up. Dean usually refrained from sharing so much, he packed up his emotions into a box and shoved it down into a deep dark corner in his mind.

“I don’t know what’s worse, getting scared or being tempted into a perfect world.” You commented. 

Dean sighed, leaning back against the headboard. “How’d you realise?”

Maybe it was because you hadn’t fully recovered from the djinn’s attack or maybe it was just being alone with Dean in here, but it was like you had no control over what you were saying. Your mind was screaming at you to stop but your lips kept moving.

“It was too perfect. A perfect world, a life with you. That’s what alerted me that it was all wrong.”

Dean sat up. “What do you mean?”

You looked away. “Dean, come on. I know where I stand with you. It’s fine.”

Dean tugged at your arm, forcing you to turn around to face him. “You don’t know shit.” He growled, his hands reaching for the sides of your face gently as he pulled you into a kiss.

Your eyes widened but it was too late for you to react. You felt an entire wave of emotions rush in, you could feel Dean’s breath, his stubble tickling your chin, his hands moving into your hair, his lips full on yours as he pulled you deeper and deeper.

When he finally stopped, you pulled away, furrowing your brows.

“I’m not totally sure I’m back in the real world.” You muttered, looking up at Dean.

Dean chuckled, “Oh sweetheart, trust me, this is very real.”

You put your arms on his chest, as if to push him away but you didn’t. “Dean…”

“Dean, you’re just... this is because we had to act like a couple. The hunt’s over, it’s okay, you can stop pretending.”

Dean shook his head. “I’m not. I was never pretending.”

You took in a shuddering breath, as you dragged your eyes up to his. “I swear if I’m still stuck in the djinn’s fantasy universe…” but Dean didn’t let you finish your sentence, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Real enough, now?” He asked, a smile playing on his lips.

You shrugged, “Are you sure?”

Dean gave you a look. “I’ve been sure for a long time. You’re the only one who couldn’t tell.”

Gently, he pulled you back into his arms, your head resting on his chest.

“See, the bed was a good call.” Dean teased.

“Shut up.” You snapped, smacking his arm. You let a small silence fall between the both of you before you spoke again, “This still feels… weird, like surreal.”

“You’ll get used to me.” Dean chuckled as you laughed and he gently took your hand. “I love you.” He whispered.

You closed your eyes, shifting closer to him. “I love you too, Dean Winchester.”

——

Dean Tag List

@akshi8278

[bluefirewrites]

not sure if u are still taking this but, celebrity/fan au for JUKEE 🤭

Okay this one's a little involved but I got you!

Rated T for mentions of sex and maybe some language

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

******

Julie tugs against the rather short dress Flynn had squeezed her in, not caring for how much she looks like a glorified candy wrapper in the shimmering gold.

She feels like she's some Ferrer Roche, waiting to be devoured.

Which seems to be her intention for tonight because she's insane, and so is her bestie Flynn, because she's supposed to grab the attention of a certain someone in this club.

Her motives for tonight sound like they come straight out of a Wattpad story, but her boyfriend- or well maybe an ex boyfriend now'- forced her hand.

So a year ago, right around the time they started dating, they both disclosed their 'hall passes'. Just a list of celebrities they were both 'allowed' to cheat on their partners with. It was fun. Just to see who the other person would pick. 

It was harmless because the whole point is that these people are so famous, so far out of reach, that the odds of hooking up with them would be essentially impossible.

Nick's was the lead singer of the world famous pop group Dirty Candi. And Julie remembers drunkenly applauding the choice ("She's pretty! Wowww you like them Bubblegum Pop girls?")

They had a laugh that night and Julie doesn't really consider that hall pass conversation all that much since then-

-Until fast forward to last week when Nick disclosed to her that he ran into Carrie Wilson at an event. And then promptly disclosed to her that he invoked his 'Hall Pass' rights.

His rights?! She had exploded at him, and he claims that its no big deal. That he thought she would understand that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, a crazy set of circumstances, and that- 'Holy shit Jules, she was actually into me. Like what?'

Understandably, Julie stormed out and has been staying with Flynn for the time being. And it must have been the haze of crying and watching a lot of true crime series to cheer herself up that she and Flynn concocted this... plan.

One fueled by spite and pettiness.

Get back at Nick, make him jealous, make him feel how she did- by invoking her own 'Hall Pass' rights- 

-which so happens to be Sunset Curve frontman, Luke Patterson... 

"There he is" Flynn whispers from their corner of the club and Julie gulps.

"I don't think I can do this," Julie hisses at Flynn, when they spot him at the bar, nursing a drink with his bandmates like he usually would (they did their research). 

See, Julie’s been a fan of Luke’s for a long time. Ever since she heard ‘Now or Never’ in freshman year of high school, she’s been hooked onto their music- especially Luke and his voice and playing. 

She had their posters on her bedroom wall and had been that girl who would (when no one’s looking) press her fingers to her lips then press them against Luke’s image before going to bed. 

It was that bad. 

And Julie had probably fantasized on more than one occasion of meeting him and all the other scenarios you would picture in a typical Celeb x Reader scenario. 

And she’d like to think she grew out of it, now she’s in her mid-twenties and just casually listens to Sunset Curve, following up on their careers every now and then. 

But you can never really shake your first major celebrity crush. Hence he had been on her so called ‘Hall Pass’ list. 

(”You into rockstars, Jules?” Nick had teased her that night.)

Seeing him there, in the same place as her, is so surreal, but Flynn’s continued pinches to her arm remind her just how real this is. 

“This is ridiculous,” Julie crosses her arms, ready to bow out because what is she thinking? Why would Luke Patterson pick her up, of all people, at the bar? It’s like a supermodel runway in here, filled with girls more accomplished and famous. Her confidence is shaken a bit and she rethinks everything. 

"Nick didn't seem to have a problem when he did it," Flynn points out, “And girl, you look great. He would be blind to not want you.” 

The mention of Nick still boils her blood, which only reaffirms her plans for revenge. She’s still nervous but they both stand up from their booth and walk over to the bar. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend,” 

“No. You’re musician extraordinaire, Julie Molina! The world may not have heard about you, but they will one day. I bet that’s something you can talk to him about. Music? Lyrics?” 

Julie could use her songwriting credentials to her advantage, “I mean I guess-” 

“Quick, he’s getting up!” 

“Flynn, wait I’m not-” 

With a forceful push, Flynn sends Julie into the path of Luke Patterson, colliding into him and effectively spilling his drink all over her dress. 

“Oh my god,” Luke gapes at her, “I am so sorry-” 

Julie fans herself, shaking slightly from the fact she’s drenched and also that her freakin’ high school celebrity crush is looking at her, actually talking to her. 

But she recovers quickly, and she speaks, “It’s fine. Really. I guess I’m just... clumsy.” She shoots a glare at Flynn, who merely winks and retreats to their booth. 

Luke grimaces and takes her by the hand, leading her somewhere, napkins in his other hand, “Here, let’s get you cleaned up. Again, I’m sorry. Hate to ruin a pretty... dress.”

It’s the way he eyes her that catches Julie off guard. He’s... not talking about the dress, is he? 

Julie reels it back in tries her hand at a joke, “I wouldn’t call this a dress. I feel like fancy leftovers in this thing.” 

Luke stifles a laugh, “Okay, I mean I wasn’t gonna say anything but yeah. I guess it’s a bit tin foil-y.”

“Not your style?”

His gaze drifts over to her one last time, “Well, any way to take a meal back home is fine by me. I mean-” Luke scrunches his nose, wincing, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that. Shit. That was too... much. Are we-” he laughs nervously, “Are we still... talking about food?”

“Unless you just called me a meal. Then no.” 

The look in his eyes say that he’s absolutely mortified, “...yeah. I think I did. I was hoping that was a nightmare.” 

“Nope, it definitely happened,” 

“Feel free to slap me,” 

Julie giggles, somewhat delirious because she hasn’t tried to flirt with him but here Luke is, flirting with her. Or trying. And failing. Like a far cry from the suave rockstar she had pictured him to be. 

“No need. Just, can you-?” she points to the napkins he’s holding hostage. 

“Oh yeah. Here,” They stop in front of the coat check, and he hands her the napkins so she could try herself off with the best she can.

Suddenly, a weight falls onto her shoulders, she looks up and sees Luke draping a jacket over her- his presumably. 

“You looked cold,”

Julie wraps the jacket tight against her, relishing in the warmth, “Wow, thanks.”

Luke smiled and stepped back, “Just so you know, if I made you feel weird in any way, I’d like to throw out my third ‘sorry’ of the night. Nothing has to happen though. So, just say the word and I’ll leave you alone.”

Whew. Um, okay. Julie stands there, faced with this decision. 

The compliments aside (she will revisit those later), Luke’s giving her an out. Any reservations she has about moving forward with this plan, this is her chance to leave. 

She could just treasure these amazing few minutes for the rest of her life. This could be a story to tell friends at a dinner party, about the time a rockstar lent her his jacket. Would be up there with the time Jack Black passed her on the street and said “Nice hat!”. 

But-

Maybe she wants to see where this goes. 

“All this talk about food is making me hungry though...” she says and Luke lights up, “I could go for a bite to eat.” 

Luke snaps his fingers, “I know just the place.” 

*******

Half an hour later, Julie and Flynn are in a smelly alleyway with the guys from Sunset Curve, in line for a street dog cart just a couple blocks away. 

“An Oldsmobile?” Julie gawked after hearing Luke and the guys describe the delicacy, “Are you trying to poison me?”

“I swear by it,” Luke insists, taking her hand and moving them up in the line. Flynn sees this and doesn’t comment, but Julie’s starting to get used to Luke doing that, “You have to try!”  

Julie doesn't know when she got over her initial starstruck, but by now its so easy to treat Luke like a regular person.

Well, celebrities are all regular people in the end, but more so now that he and his friends, have their sleeves rolled up, smiles wide, ready to dig into what may be the most disgusting hot dog she has ever seen.

Julie takes a bite out of hers and her eyes widen. Wow. It's not terrible.

"Ayy! We got another one, boys" Reggie laughs, noting her reaction.

"Told ya" Luke needles her sides and she giggles, ticklish. Her knee jerk reaction is to playfully shove him, but in the process accidentally smeared some mustard onto his face.

Luke goes to lick it off with his tongue, making funny faces as he did which amused Julie even more.

"Here," she takes a napkin and wipes at his cheek, "Now we're even."

The whole group gets to talking over by the couches, while Flynn chats up the other boys, Julie and Luke are sequestered in their own corner, and yes, eventually the topic switches to music.

"Wait, so you know Rose and the Petal Pushers?" Luke chokes out, "Like everyone I talk to hasn't heard of them!"

"Yup. Have their record actually" Julie beams proudly, censoring out the part that its her mom's band and hence she has one of the few records ever released.

Luke is floored by that and continues to poke her brain for music and Julie finds that their spiels go on naturally, that she could probably talk with Luke for hours and hours.

Which ends up happening. Flynn had already made her escape, having texted her to come home safely, the boys had gone too, leaving them in the nearly empty lot.

When the food truck closes down for the night, they end up taking a stroll down the streets of L.A, talking and getting to know each other.

Julie learns so much about Luke, things she's never heard about from the press- like his songwriting practice, that he cries at Finding Nemo, and that he can do a cartwheel only when drunk.

And in return Julie shares with him her crazy college stories, how she misses her mom sometimes, and that she is encyclopedia of commercial jingles (a fact Luke exploits by rapidly quizzing her at random moments)

Somehow they end up near the beach, with Julie pointing out the different stars she could see, but finds that Luke isn't looking at the sky.

"Hey, Julie..." He gets her attention, "I had a really good time tonight."

"Me too"

"So... would it be alright, if I kiss you?"

Julie's mouth parts, speechless. It happened. Holy shit it happened or... is happening. She has Luke exactly where she wants him.

She could only nod and Luke takes it as the sign to lean in, but just as his lips is about to brush against hers, she freaks-

"Wait" she steps back. Luke opens his mouth, "No. No more 'sorry's from you. This one's one me. I'm sorry but... this- this" She sighs, "I have to be honest with you."

Then she tells Luke everything- Nick, The Hall Pass, her plans for tonight- basically admitting to using him.

When she's done, she expects for Luke to get angry, to leave in a huff and never want to see her again.

That's not what happens.

"This Nick guy sounds like a piece of work" he says.

Julie nods slowly, "Yeah... I guess he was. So maybe that's why I did it. But I don't think I could have gone through with it. Like I don't think we're together, me and Nick but-"

"You wouldn't want to do what he did. Because you don't want to hurt people," Luke surmises, understanding, "And by doing that, that means you're a better person than he is."

"I guess"

"No Julie, you're a good person" Luke insists, "Man, I think that makes me like you even more."

Julie laughs, "God, if my high school self could see me now..."

"You were a big fan?"

"I'm not having this conversation right now with you,"

"Okay cuz now you got me curious-"

Julie swats his shoulder but it doesn't deter the guy from snickering.

On a more serious note though-

"I think..." Julie hums, "I think this means that I got some stuff to work through. Before I could start considering... this."

"I understand"

"But thank you... Luke. For tonight"

"It's been real, Julie,"Luke smiles and pulls her in for a half hug, "And you should keep the jacket. Looks better on you anyway."

****

Julie goes back to Flynn's that night and her bestie's still awake, wanting all the deets. But there's not much to tell. Nothing happened.

She shrugs off the jacket and resigns to the couch, not caring that her makeup is still on. She's about ready to pass out.

Her phone dings.

She pulls it out and sees two notifications.

luke_patterson is now following you

luke_patterson is requesting to message you.

Curious, she accepts the request.

'here if you want to talk, Tin Foil :P'

Julie rolls her eyes and collapses onto the couch, sleeping with a smile on her face.

She doesn't know it now, but the oncoming years would be filled with more messages back and forth, meetups with their friends for more shady street food, building a solid foundation of friendship and eventually, when Luke asks again if he could kiss her, Julie would eagerly prop herself on her toes to close the gap.

Yeah, Julie's high school self would definitely be screaming...

[boldlyanxious]

Boop

Jasonette July prompt 12: dare

My masterlist

Jasonette July

Marinette, Jon and Damian were happy to be together again even though they had only been apart a couple weeks. Marinette flew back in from France arriving after Jon had stopped back by from Metropolis. She knew they had been together a couple times since she had been home but it still felt great to have them all back together again. It was so weird not seeing them every day. They finally gave up their wonderful New York apartment since they were all graduated from university and getting jobs soon.

It was really weird at first to live with two guys she barely knew but they ended up getting along great and she had been desperate for a place to live when her place flooded. The landlord had offered her another apartment at the same price but it was really gross and too far away. The flooded apartment, she was told would take too long to repair so they could get rid of the lease. She passed it 6 months later and people were living there and it had a fitness center, coffee shop, and a water garden. She looked online and the rent was 3 times what she had been paying. She was pretty angry, but she ended up with 2 besties from the situation that she probably wouldn’t have gotten to know very well otherwise.

Tonight they were celebrating being back together again. Marinette barely had time to look around Damian’s house because he and Jon were rushing her. She was shoved into a room and Damian gave her a dress that his (sorta) sister helped him pick out and they had food ready for them to eat before they rushed out the door. The plan of the evening was to celebrate job offers and all of them being together again. Marinette wasn’t even given a chance to rest so she was reeling a little from the flight still. But she wasn’t going to pass this up. Jon was always willing to go out and have fun, but Damian feeling in a partying mood was rather rare so they were going to enjoy it.

It was loud in the place even though it was not a large New York club. Marinette had loved going to those so much it had probably eaten into her budget far too much. It was always better going with the guys because they wouldn’t let her pay. They knew she had a much tighter budget. Actually it was mostly Damian paying the covers and the tab without ever saying anything. She was pretty sure that he paid more rent than her too but he just told her that there was already an extra room and she more than made up for it with her constant cooking and she did more of the shared chores.

She knew his family had money, but she had a feeling she had no idea how much money until she saw the house. It was massive and the grounds went further than she could see. She never really talked about it because he didn’t. It was so much different from the people she knew growing up. Chloe who talked about the money all the time or Adrien and Kagami who didn’t talk about it but they were kept separate from others by their parents. She had never even met Damian’s family and they didn’t live that far away. She knew they talked but they didn't tell him how to live all the time.

They got drinks as soon as they were in the door and they did not go slow. Marinette was making up for all her time being considered a minor while living in New York when she left France right as she reached the drinking age there. She could finally drink in public here and they kept feeding her fun fruity drinks and laughing at her stumbling on her heels while still loopy from her flight. She didn’t care though. It was pretty standard for them to all pick on each other a bit it was all in good fun.

She pushed Jon towards a girl who had been watching them. He looked terrified and he tried to fight against her pushing him. He managed it but then she stumbled. She knocked into Damian who kept her on her feet but her arms still swung around wildly. Then she knocked over a drink. She looked back at them sheepishly but they were already looking at her grinning. They would not let her out of a dare even after having just gotten off a plane from Paris. They had been doing dares for knocked over drinks for a couple years but she had gotten a lot more of them that they had. She was significantly better about being more careful now, but It only took one little stumble to ruin her good streak.

---

Jason sat in the corner of his favorite bar looking sullenly around at the noisy crowd around him. He saw Damian across the room and wondered if his presence was responsible for some of the overly excited younger crowd. He may not care about his presence in the media, but they certainly cared about him. He was rich and single and a new college graduate, so he must be looking to mingle. Of course the Demon Spawn wasn’t interested in the crowd around him. He was perfectly happy with Jon nearby. Jason didn’t think he would ever want or need any other friends but as he glanced back he notice a girl with them.

Initially he thought that maybe she was trying to get close to one of the boys but not only did neither seem very interested in the beautiful girl but she seemed to be hanging around with them and bantering. He looked back up and saw her trying to encourage Jon to approach a girl at another table who had been looking their way. Jason nearly lost his foul mood when he saw her stumble and flail around being propped up by Damian. He could see their maniachal looks from across the bar and thought she was begging. But she soon squared her shoulders and took Damian’s fresh drink and drank it until it was only ice left.

She looked around and he looked back down at his drink so he wouldn’t be caught watching her. He finished his drink and signaled the bartender to make him another. He didn’t realize she had moved from beside his brother and friend until he glanced that way and saw her walking right his way. She seemed to be focused on a spot behind him as she walked. He looked back away again as he received his drink. When the waitress stepped away the girl was right behind her and looking right at him.

---

Jon and Damian laughed as they watched Marinette walk across the bar to complete her dare. She looked back at them several times hoping they would change their minds but they were more interested in laughing at her than anything else. She didn’t know anything about the angry looking man sitting alone at the end of the bar, but Jon and Damian knew that at least her fears about him lashing out at her were false. She had never met Damian’s brother so it was a bit fun for them to find a way to play a joke on both of them at once.

Marinette froze as she made eye contact with the man in front of her. He would have been very nice looking if her were smiling but he looked like he had had a very long day and just wanted to be left alone. But Marinette didn’t want to face the consequences for not doing the dare. Damian and Jon would never let her live it down. The man watched her standing there but he didn’t say anything and neither did Marinette. That was part of the challenge. She wasn’t allowed to say what was happening. She reached over to him and tapped his nose with her finger.

“Boop,” she said, as she touched his nose.

She almost expected him to yell or be angry. But she figured she could get away from that. But he just let it happen; he had no interest in causing a scene. As if he knew exactly what she would do he reached out and grabbed her arm before she could retract it. The way he held on caused her to lean heavily on the bar next to him. His face didn’t look angry, she almost thought he had a hint of a smirk. He loosened his hold but didn’t release her arm completely.

“Where did Damian and Jon find such a lovely friend to send to poke the bear?”

“Wha--do you know them?” she asked.

“I do. Do you feel like getting them back for tormenting you?”

He let his fingers slide off her arm but he leaned close to her. She leaned in close to him too.

“What did you have in mind?”

---

Jon and Damian watched, laughing as Marinette approached Jason. They expected to have an epic reaction from both of them to leave them with a story to tell in the future. But when Marinette reached out for Jason and didn’t pull away they didn’t know what to think. The two leaned close and seemed to be talking. They couldn’t see Marinette’s face, but Jason looked pretty serious. They hadn’t expected him to be very angry but maybe he was telling her off. Maybe they should have made it a comment to him rather than actually touching him even if it was a rather innocuous action.

They quickly decided he wasn’t angry and was possibly hitting on their friend when he reached over and pulled her close to him. Marinette went willingly and rested her weight against his thigh while he put his arm around her and the other he motioned for a waitress so they could order drinks. Marinette didn’t look back to see them at all. She continued talking close to Jason, and he was just as engaged with what Marinette was saying. They waited around trying to decide whether to go pull her away to hang out with them again but she didn’t use the signal that she wanted a rescue so they didn’t think she would be grateful for the interference.

---

“Are they still watching?” Marinette asked.

“Yeah. But they are trying to not be obvious about it.” He leaned down close to whisper in her ear. “Do you want to give up or do you want to up the ante?”

“I’m having too much fun to give up now.”

“Glad you think I’m such a good time.”

“Very funny. They always get me with dares. Its about time I got them back for it.”

“Well, I’m all for it. Did you want to leave with me?”

“I think you may have the wrong impression about what is going to happen here.”

Marinette pushed back from him slightly.

“I don’t have the impression that anything is happening after. But I would help you give them the impression. I am the delinquent brother after all.”

“So we would just walk out the door together as a joke.”

“Its all up to you. We could give them a show and stumble out together or just exit together and call them to meet you out there.”

Marinette considered carefully for a bit. She still thought it was unfair of them to enforce the challenge when she was fresh off a plane. Both of them had had a relaxing day before going out where as Marinette was still on Paris time and off a 9 hour flight. She made her decision and then moved in on Jason before she could back out. If he was shocked he didn’t show it. She held onto his collar while his hand slid to the back of her head. She was almost sorry that their kiss was far more chaste than it appeared to those around them. It was also far too brief. Jason just waited until her friends watched in shock before they separated and he took her by the hand and they left the bar.

The car he had called was already waiting so they were in it and off before they could be followed out. The other 2 would have to call a car still before following after them. Marinette laughed in the back of the cab and Jason grinned back at her. She recognised Damian’s house when they got there. It made sense that he would know that was where she was staying.

It was barely five minutes after Marinette and Jason arrived before Jon and Damian burst into the room they were in. Marinette had set the scene when she heard them rushing their way so her hair was partially pulled down and she had her legs resting over Jason’s. His arm was around her on the back of the couch and they had a movie started.

“Hey, did you guys want to watch a movie with us?”

They tried to act put out by the turn of events but after a moment they laughed at the turn of events. They joined the other two on the couch, but from that moment on they never made Marinette do another dare.

Taglist

@jasonette-july-event | @theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo | @adrestar | @zynna

[write-orflight]

Settle Down: Chapter 2

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers)  

Rating: M

Words: 2K

Warnings: SMUT!! (fingering, sexual content, small breeding kink i guess), cursing. things of that nature

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a family, right?

AN: Unedited. This chapter has smut, not intense smut but it is to further the plot. comment on this chapter or message for taglist. much love Cia!

 Chapter 2: Would it help if I dressed up like Spock?

You never want to thank serial killers for anything but you were slightly grateful that they decided to chill for a week. You and Spencer didn’t really want to have to put this off another month and you very well couldn’t go to Hotch like “you mind if Spencer sits this case out so he can knock me up?” 

You decided that you wouldn’t tell the team what you guys were doing until you were at least 4 months pregnant, which getting Garcia to keep it a secret was proving to be its own task. You thankfully had been able to intercept her before she could tell Derek. 

Spencer was over every night after work now, cuddling you on your couch watching a new Disney movie. For a man who seemed to know everything, his classic children movie knowledge was lacking. Right now, you guys were watching Ratatouille. He was sitting on the couch and you were on the floor beneath him between his legs, his hand aimlessly raking through your hair. You were on the verge of purring like a cat. You had forgotten how it felt to be comfortable around someone. 

“I don’t understand. If this movie is supposed to be about a rodent in a gourmet restaurant. Why is he making a peasant dish?” 

“It’s called Ratatouille. Why do you think?” You say, looking up at him. “It’s a pun.” 

He smiles down at you. “Well, it’s a play on words. Not a pun.” 

“Whatever, nerd.” You go to turn your attention back to the screen but his hand slides from your scalp to around your chin, forcing your head to stay up. 

“Tomorrow’s the day, you know.” Spencer says. 

“Trust me, I know.” You say. 

“Are you…. nervous?” He asks, eyes kind of shifting. 

“You don't make me nervous, Spencer.” You say, turning so you can look at him fully. “But something tells me you are. Tell me what’s bothering you.” 

“It’s just…. Idontwantittobebadforyou.” He rushes out. 

You look confused for a second before you realize what he’s saying to you. “Oh, Spencer you don’t have to worry about that.” You say, tapping him on the leg. “After all, you are kinda the only one it needs to be good for.”  

“Actually some studies have been showing that women are more likely to become pregnant if they also achieve orgasm.”  

“Now that’s something I didn’t know.” 

“I just… it just feels selfish. You’re not getting anything out of it.” 

“But I am getting something out of it, Spence. The best thing, our kid.” You laugh. “That’s what we’re doing this for, right?” 

He hesitates slightly. “Y-Yea, it is. Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

“Hey, it’s alright. Caring if I orgasm already puts you above like 90% of the guys I’ve fucked.” You shrug. “Now, shut up. I’m trying to watch Remy.” You say, turning your attention but to the kitchen antics on the screen before you. 

———————————————

You had been antsy all day. Penelope tried to pry out of you what was making you so jittery but you never told her. As far as Penny was concerned, you and Spencer were going through the clinic. She didn’t need to know the details of how you were getting pregnant. 

After work, you and Spencer piled into your car and drove to your house. Once inside, Spencer waited in the living room while you went to the bathroom and took an ovulation test. Not exactly the sexiest thing to set the mood but what are you gonna do? You come out some time later brandishing the test before tossing it in the trash. 

“Well, I’m ovulating.” You say. “How are you feeling?” 

“F-Fine.” He stutters before clearing his throat. “I’m fine.” 

“Ok so you’re clearly not fine.” You say. “We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re having doubts. We can wait as long as you need.” 

“No, I’m fine, just nervous.” 

“This is probably the wrong time to ask but you’ve…. Done this before right?” 

He looks at you incredulously. “Christ, Y/N. I’m not a Virgin.” He exclaims. You hold your hands up in surrender. “It’s just weird. You’re my coworker.” 

“We can pretend I’m someone else if you want. Like I’m someone from the bar? Or where do you even meet girls? The library? Comic con? Pen gave me a Star Trek shirt last year. Would it help if I dressed up like Spock?—“ 

“Can I just kiss you?” He cuts you off. “Can we start there?” 

Your face can’t help but soften at that. “Yea, Spencer. That’s fine.” You say, stepping into his space. You feel his hand cradle your face before he leans in kissing you softly. You go at his speed for a while, slowly letting your tongues meet in the middle as you wound your hands into his hair. Soon a gasp is leaving you as you feel hands circling your waist pulling you closer as his kisses become rougher. Soon, you find yourself pressed against your wall. You let out a small yelp not expecting that at all. Spencer slots a leg in between yours, rubbing it against your clothed sex slightly. You groan when you feel his erection against your hip. Spencer’s now kissing you extremely rough. His hand drifts from it’s hold on your hip to the bottom of your jaw, fingers spreading slightly so he's almost gripping your neck like he wants to but is trying to hold back for right now. You’re a little surprised at that, you would’ve never thought Spencer Reid was into that. He pulls away for a second, hand still on your jaw looking at you with hooded eyes. 

“Bedroom?” He asks. You nod. 

———————————————

The two of you didn’t even have time to have an awkward moment because as soon as you’re in your room behind the closed door Spencer is on you, his lips finding your neck and that spot behind your earlobe that makes you moan. You reach to start unbuttoning his shirt, he helps you and you feel the slight smirk against your jaw. As soon as he’s undressed, you take off your clothes and sit on the bed. You look up and see Spencer still standing up at the end of it, watching you. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. 

“Nothing.” He says. “You’re just- you’re beautiful, Y/N.”  

You don’t like the way your heart flutters at that. You need to get a grip and remember this is just a one time thing, a business interaction. 

“So do something about it.” You say. 

Spencer is on top of you at the speed of light, trailing kisses down your neck and chest. You moan loudly, back lifting off the bed when his lips circle around your nipple, fingers playing with the neglected one. He looks at you softly as he starts to pull your underwear down. His fingers ghost above your sex, waiting for your permission. You nod, moaning when you feel the first digit slides across your wet folds. You had thought about Spencer’s hands before but nothing could prepare you for how they’d actually feel inside you. He says nothing, just gently pumps the two fingers inside you, smirking at how much you’re falling apart under him. It’s somehow hotter than when guys talk to you in bed. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the line you had set for yourself as you get closer to the edge. You shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you were. Your moans got more and more loud as you felt yourself falling over the edge, praising Spencer’s name all the while. He still says nothing, just studies you with a look of wonderment crossing his face as you ride out your orgasm. 

“You ready?” He asks. You nod, helping him pull off his boxers before he settles in the space between your legs. You feel the tip of his member press against you before he looks you in the eye again, silently asking for permission. You push back against him, granting it. The two of you groan loudly at the feeling as he presses inside of you. Spencer gives you time to adjust to his length, he was definitely a lot bigger than you thought he was going to be, then again you never really thought about any of your coworkers genitalia before. You nod when you're ready and he starts moving, slow at first but quickly picking up pace when he hears the groans and moans escaping your body unintentionally.   

“Fuck, Spencer. R-Right there.” You stutter out, Spencer moves your legs higher up on his waist as he started fucking you faster, hitting that spot inside you nearly every thrust. You went into this expecting nothing, really just the most mediocre sex possible. Which was fine, you were only doing this for your baby. You certainly weren’t expecting Spencer to actually be good at this. But here you were, moaning like a pornstar underneath the man she didn’t even like just weeks ago. 

“Fuck,  Y/N.” He moaned, head dropping into your neck. You could feel him panting into your ear. “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so tight, baby.” 

You don’t know where that baby came from but you were too caught up in it to care. Your moans get louder and louder and Spencer drops a hand to your sex, rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves that had your back arching off the bed. You were so unbelievably close you and Spencer could tell by the scratches you left down his back. He placed a small bite on the small patch of flesh behind your earlobe and that was all it took back over the edge for the second time that night. You felt Spencer’s thrust start to falter shortly after.  

“Shit, you feel so good, Y/N.” He groans into your ear. “Fuck.” 

You knew it wasn’t wise and if you could take it back you would. But you got swept up in the moment and still reeling from the two orgasms you had that you turned your head and whispered directly into Spencer’s ear. 

“Give me your baby, Spence.” 

Spencer’s leans his head up to look at you now, an almost feral look crossing his face as he starts fucking you harder. Looking you so intensely in your eyes. He brings a hand up to your neck squeezing the sides slightly and gripping your head so you can’t even look anywhere else if you wanted to. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you?” He says, fucking you impossibly hard. You moan loudly, gripping his wrist attached to the hand around your neck. “Fuck, I’m gonna--” He cuts off, and you watch him shake as he releases inside of you, thrusting shallowly as he rides out his orgasm. 

A minute passes and he separates from you, placing another pillow under your hips. “I’ve seen some studies say it’s better to keep the hips propped up for five minutes after sex to increase chances of fertilization.”  He says. “I’ll be right back.” 

He leaves you alone in the room for a second and you decide to spend that time gathering your thoughts. This could not be good. Spencer just gave you the best sex of your life for what most likely, was going to be a one time thing. You don’t even know how to go about working with him and raising this child knowing what he was like in the sack. This was a bad idea, but it was also a little too late now. 

He comes back in with a cold water bottle, prompting you to drink it which you happily accept. He goes and runs a hand softly through your sweatshined hair. 

“Sorry for… doing that, I know you said it wasn’t necessary before but you seemed close and it felt cruel to just not.” You look at him confused for a second before you realize what he’s saying. 

“Are you…. Apologizing for making me cum?” You ask. Spencer looks down awkwardly for a second. “Spencer, trust me it’s fine. In fact, it’s more than fine. Thank you for this. I know it was less than ideal for you.” 

Spencer playfully ruffles your hair. “It was not as bad as I thought it would be.” 

You roll your eyes at that. “Gee, thanks Casablanca.” 

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughs. “I should get going.” 

“It’s already late. You could just… stay if you want.” 

“I don’t want to impose--” He starts but you cut him off. 

“Spencer, stay with me.” You say again, looking him in the eyes. “Please.” 

He looks at you back for a second, decoding if you were serious before nodding and crawling into the bed next to you. You immediately turn and toss an arm over his torso. 

“Goodnight, Spencer.” You say. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says back. 

You can almost swear you feel a kiss at the top of your forehead before you drift off but you’re so tired. 

 You probably hallucinated it. 

      Taglist: @moonshinerbynight​ @crimeshowtrash​ @no-honey-no​ @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel​ @chenlemure​ @sizzlingclamturtlesludge​ @tclaerh​ @k-k0129 @takeyourleap-of-faith​ @trashyhipsterfangirl @haylaansmi​ @spencerreidlivesrentfreeinmyhead​ @waspyyy​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @octaviaxanadu​ @whxt-to-write​ @meowiemari​ @b99andsoc​ @boba-king-iroh​ @punkndisorderrly​ @richardrosejpeg​ @underratedmisfit​ @gredvb​ @criminalminds4days​ @fanfictionislifetho​ @justpeachykeeeen​ @kopfkinomind @moonchildkei @appleblossoms-posts​ @urguardiandevil​ @cm-imagines-07​ @ajeff855

[daddy-chiluc]

Inextinguishable Fire | Chiluc Week Day 1

Fake Dating/Accidental Confession/Roommates AU

Chiluc Fluff

Tw: Mentions of a Stalker

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

“Ajax! I need your help!” He chimed, his pale knuckles knocking lightly on the door. The sound of creaking soaked through the door, floorboards cried under his weight as his shadow shifted beneath the door. The faintest sound of a groan resonated through the door as it was slowly opened.

The sunlight from the apartment began to creep into his dark room, it’s darkness swallowed around the tall, pale figure before him. The veins in his hands moved as he gripped at the door and it’s frame, his muscles stretching as he curved his back in a weak attempt to pop it. Whatever he had done last night must’ve been eventful, bruises littered his knuckles as cuts and scratches tore at his skin with every breath.

“What’s up Sparky?” He groaned, the sound reverberating through the quiet hallway as he yawned, his bed head unruly as it curled and stuck out in different directions, his sleepy tears rolling down his freckled cheeks.

“I have a problem and I need your help.” Diluc had muttered, determined to fix his gaze upon those ocean blues that drowned him shamelessly with every look. They’d look down at him, up at him, study him and care for him. An overwhelming tsunami sure to swallow him whole and send his head underwater, taking away every breath he took.

“What kinda problem?” Ajax was intrigued. A problem? Whatever this problem was it obviously stressed him out a great deal — his hair was a frenzied mess, curls displaced down his back and along his shoulders from where they had been agitated; probably from where he had been running his fingers through it. Even in his sleepy haze, he could see his fingers were irritated, most likely from scratching, and his lips were chapped, his bottom lip with patches of raw skin, swollen and bleeding. He’d been chewing and pulling at the skin of his lips.

“So you remember why we’re rooming? Because I had a stalker on campus?” He worried, starting to scratch at his neck, most likely from anxiety.

“Yeah…I remember very well. They tried to break into the dorm you shared with that Albedo guy. I chased ‘em off,” he groaned, rubbing at his face, trying to rub his drowsiness away, “What about ‘em? Do I need to beat the shit outta them?” He murmured as he studied the man before him.

“Well…no, not yet I don’t think. That’s not…”

“What’s wrong Diluc?” He whispered gently, his voice deep and raspy from having just woken up. His voice alone was enough to send a shiver down Diluc’s spine.

“I’ve been invited to a double date and the people who invited me think I’m dating you and I don’t know what to do so I came to you thinking you’d know what to do and even though I know how to protect myself I’m still not comfortable knowing there isn’t a restraining order on that stalker so I figured —,”

“Diluc, slow down. You’re rambling, I need you to have mercy on me here,” he laughed as he reached for a t-shirt, “Look, I get this is making you anxious. Why not just tell them you don’t feel up to hanging out right now? Better yet, invite them to the apartment, I don’t care.” He slipped the tee on, the collar hang forward from where it had been stretched out.

The idea of ‘asking another friend’ really wasn’t much of an option for Diluc. He had far too many trust issues and the only reason why he’d hung around Ajax was because he was there the night the stalker had broken in, talking pictures of him and stealing precious items. Had it not been for Albedo’s attempt to stop him, Ajax wouldn’t have heard the ruckus.

“Look, I need you to calm down before you tell me. I can’t keep up when you anxiety ramble,” he smiled softly, nodding to the living room, “Go sit on the couch and wait for me, I’ll brush your hair out and you can go from there okay?” For someone as flamboyant as Kaeya — maybe even more so — he was rather calm in the mornings whereas Kaeya would be loud and dramatic.

Striding along their shared apartment, he sat on the couch as he listened to the winds howl and the birds chirp. He remembered telling the pair he had online classes to worry about, the classes becoming stressful, only adding to his exhaustion after the stalker incident. Feeling the sofa dip behind him, he relaxed instinctively as he sat behind him, pulling his hair behind him before he gently brushed at the hairs, careful not to snag a single strand.

“So start from the beginning for me,” he said calmly, his fingers carding through his hair with each stroke of the hairbrush.

“I was invited to a double date…,” he whispered, slumping forward just a bit as he fiddled his his fingers.

“By who?”

“By Albedo.”

“You’re old roommate?” Diluc nodded as best he could, his weight sinking into the cushions beneath him.

“Why not just invite him and his partner here?”

“I tried but he said he doesn’t want to be a bother and he’d rather pay for coffee down the road.” He sank into his touch as he lightly massaged his scalp.

“And you said he thinks we’re dating?” Diluc hummed, tilting his head back, melting under his touch.

“Yeah, I couldn’t get a word in over the phone, I tried to tell him we weren’t and he didn’t believe me.” He sighed, some of his tension leaving his body.

“And you’re worried about that stalker again?” Diluc hummed again, his eyes closing as Ajax braided the sides to pull into a small ponytail, draping the rest if his tamed hair over his shoulders and down his back.

“Then we’ll go and just call it a fake date.” He shrugged, his hands leaving the tamed red locks his fingers were busied with.

“The two of us on a fake date?” Diluc had thought of it, he just hadn’t expected for him to have the same idea, “What would we even do, how would that —,”

“Dont stress about it too much, just follow my lead,” Ajax soothed, brushing a piece of his hair behind his ear. It was brief when Diluc looked away, Ajax’s eyes stealing a glance at his red lips, his gaze lingering a moment longer than he would’ve liked as the other stared off at the pristine, white wall.

“Look, if it bothers you that much then I’ll just go as company alright? No need to worry your pretty head Aphrodite,” Diluc’s skin burned violently as his mind began to crash, he could feel himself drowning once more, water filling his lungs and his throat as a light kiss was pressed to his temple.

“Why did you —,”

“We’re fake dating right? We gotta make it believable Rosebud, might as well get a head start,” he chuckled as he walked back to his room to get dressed, “Let me know what time we’re leaving,” he called down the hall, his voice bouncing and echoing down the cramped space as Diluc sat mindlessly on the sofa. God, he could be so insufferable sometimes. His fingers feathered over his temple, the ghost of his lips setting his heart aflame as he scoffed. Sure, he helped when he was needed and slept most of the day because of his night classes, but he could be so…so annoying.

An hour had ticked away along the clock’s hands, Diluc looking on in severe distaste at the basic tee and jeans Ajax had chosen. It was so basic Diluc couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he drug him back to his room, rifling through the other’s wardrobe, desperate to find something better for him to wear.

“Take that off, before I rip it off you,” Diluc’s tone was bitter, as he glared at him.

“So forward Diluc,” Ajax snickered, pulling the t-shirt off slowly, teasingly, loving the irritated noise that squeezed itself past Diluc’s throat. His touch against his skin was scalding as he took his shirt off for him. It made his heart flutter and burn like a forest fire in his chest with each breath, becoming far more dire with every inhale — dire for the need to touch him delicately, to let his fingers gingerly trace the underside of his jaw and press chaste kisses to his neck. He swallowed thickly, knowing his pale cheeks were burning with his hidden passion, the tips of his ears must have been burning as bright as the other’s hair. If they had, Diluc had chosen to ignore it, surely.

“Put this on.” Clothes were pushed to his chest, an assortment of colors that worked beautifully together, “I think a slate grey would look better, it’s softer,” he started to ramble, right, he was studying to be a fashion designer, he was also a minor in art, “No, no wait,” he went off, fingers gently skimming against his clothes, “Try this instead,” he handed him another outfit, taking away the sweater and pants he had handed him previously.

“Diluc, it’s a fake date…,” he whispered slowly as Diluc went back to looking through his clothes, “Why are you dressed like it’s a fancy outing, wearing heels, and going so in depth with clothes?”

“Well, Ajax,” he hummed with a swift turn of his heel, his hair spinning as he lifted the other’s chin with his finger, sending Ajax reeling from his spot on his bed. Don’t even get him started on the way he said his name like that, “One, it’s called having a taste in fashion and being a minor in art. Two, they aren’t heels, they’re dress shoes,” he leaned in closely, a smirk danced uncharacteristically along his features as his breath fanned over his lips, “We gotta make it believable…Seerose.” Had it not been for rooming with him for four months his German would have been rough. He…he called him Water Lily in German. The perfect payback really. Ajax laughed lightly as the finger slipped from his chin as he stood up.

“Alright alright, I’ll be out in a moment.” Diluc had been grateful he had the other by his side, his heart hammered in his chest.

“How do I look Firefly?” He chimed, a cheesy grin on his face as he walked back into his room.

“Better,” Diluc was pleased with the outfit. It had gone silent rather quickly, the incessant buzz of the AC being the only noise that had filled the room, “Hey…I have a question.”

“Shoot Sparky,” Ajax relaxed, slouching back just a bit as Diluc eyed him, watching his every move like a hawk.

“Did you want to go on the double date with me?” Ajax’s face flushed. Yes, yes he absolutely wanted to…but how could he admit that so casually?

“Just thought it’d be a cool idea, that’s all.”

“A cool idea?” Diluc had doubted that with every fiber of his being. He could tell by the way he spoke and the way his body had tensed up there was something up.

“Yeah, pretty much.” He shrugged, his body going rigid.

“You’re lying.”

“What?”

“I said you’re lying.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time but what makes you think I’m lying?”

“You’re too tense.” He said simply, stepping closer eyes cut to examine every bead of sweat that formed on his face, every freckle and every line in his forehead, “Why did you propose the idea of a fake date, and be honest.”

“I am being honest!” He panicked, he could feel his body begin to flare with heat as Diluc walked closer and closer.

“No you aren’t Ajax.”

“Why does it matter?” Ajax argued, as he took slow, consistent steps back.

“Because I’m the last person you should love—,”

“So what if I do?!” Ajax’s voice echoed within the dark room as sunlight streamed through the curtains as he was backed into the wall. His heart raced in his chest as it clicked. He…he just admitted to loving his roommate. The very roommate he saved four months ago and offered to go on a fake date with. He hadn’t meant for it to be so raw, so unromantic that he himself had to groan at his own stupidity.

“…So you’re actually in love with me?” Ajax’s lips pursed shut, as he looked away, embarrassment settling in his bones, flooding every crevice of his body.

“Ajax?”

“Yes, Diluc, I’m in love with you, for fuck sake.” He groaned, his head thumping against the wall as he threw his head back. He was dizzy, his eyes wide as warm hands cupped his cheeks with a forceful kiss pressed to his lips — desperate. Everything in this moment was a blur to him, he just knew he tasted sweet, like sugar and pastries. He could feel the quiver of his lip and it felt right. It felt so, so right.

“C-call, call it off,” he groaned, melting into the kiss with every touch as his lithe fingers traced the veins in his neck, “Call off the meet up—,” he whispered thinly, pulling him impossibly closer as he kissed him feverishly, passion burning in each press of their lips. Diluc gasped as he was suffocated with every gentle kiss pressed to his skin. He pulled at the hairs of his neck, allowing himself to be dragged down to the bottom of the ocean. Lightly, he pushed him away to breathe, laughing lightly at their disheveled state as he cleaned them both up as best he could.

“Or, we could actually make it a date instead of a fake one,” he proposed, hands busying themselves with bronze curls.

“Yes. Fuck yes, I would absolutely love that,” he whispered as he went back to kissing him over and over, grateful for his stupid mouth talking too much.

“A date it is then,” Diluc mumbled against his lips as he allowed himself to be devoured by the other’s warm embrace, “A date it is…” Ajax sank into his touch, feeling his fingers hold him closely by his jaw as his lips met his over and over, his warmth scorching his skin, a fire that could never be extinguished…a fire that could never be extinguished.

[revirushifaa]

Hi can I request GN! Mc being really short like 5"2, but is like super chaotic. Whenever the brothers try to pull the "You're just a small weak human bit" they just will drag over a chair so they can look them in the eyes to say fuck you or something. Bonus points if it's when they threatened to kill the Mc because instead of running the just walk over and get a chair to yell at them. They'll just so tall and it'd be hilarious.

Pffft, a shortie trying to intimidate very large demons fufufu! Of course, HC's because it would be very long to write if it was a drabble!

Soon I'll include Belphie, after I have gotten the hang of him. For now I'll give you just six bros.

Enjoy!

Warning: Language

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

Tiny MC not scared of the brothers:

Lucifer and MC:

-Oh, the mighty firstborn is intimidating by nature and he's full of authority, so when MC's been a little brat, he'll scold them and hover them.

"What is this? A pathetic little nut of a human trying to intimidate me? I, Lucifer, the eldest of this family? How endearing-"

-Right after he laughs at them, they just grab a chair and now they have the same eye level so they answer with preppiness.

"Fuck you, peacock boy, I'm ain't afraid of ya so shove yer pride up yer butt."

-Oh, believe me when I tell you that Lucifer almost rip them to pieces, but he finds it amusing that a tiny human is there being insolent with him.

Mammon and MC:

"YOU? You the tiniest shrimp trying to be the "tough guy" and have me right down on my knees before ya? Me, THE Mammon?! Ahahahaha!!"

-MC then stands on the chair and looks right into the greedy demon's eyes.

"And ya think just because yer big n shit I'm gonna cower before you? Please, why don't you buy yourself better balls if you have the guts to try and scare me, yer balls might just be as diminute as a baby's!"

-Oh. Oh. OH. Mammon blushes bright right at that comment, that he freezes there and has no idea what to say. This human is something else, don't mess with 'em, they've gotten a lot of guts!.

Leviathan and MC:

-The shy shut-in babe actually smirks at their insolence and their idiocy of trying to be the intimidating one.

"What is it normie? Trying to be tough? Oh don't make laugh, normies like you are just the pathetic of things without any abilities or powers, you don't stand a chance against me or any of my brothers."

-Again in the chair and showing not fear, MC stares at the envious demon.

"And you an otaku nerd gamer, is intimidating or frightning? Don't make me laugh nerd, yer only good at games and anime. Why don't you just kiss that Kuri-Pan pillow of yers, cuz ya won't ever get a partner."

-Oh... Levi's self-steem drops ten meters underground. They hit him right where it does hurt the most. Why... they're small yet they're strong in their determination and words. He's so envious now because he can't actually insult someone without stuttering.

Satan and MC:

-Avatar of Wrath and cat lover has cornered a very imprudent MC as he smirks at them.

"Pathetic tiny little fly, you won't ever win against me. Oh no, I'll wreck ya and incapacitate you so you can't stand anymore.

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm not scared of ya! Man, take a chill pill or somethin' cuz ya are like an old grandpa. Pretty much like that peacock boy. Relax and go give yerself more care, is it because they ignore ya that much that yer such an atomic bomb? Hahaha, funny little angry gramps."

-What the hell?! And they just stood on a chair and say that while looking into his eyes and just what...? This human surely has something. Oh but he feels the wrath rising inside him, how dare them compare him with Lucifer?!! He's anything but him, ahhhhhh-

Asmodeus and MC:

"Aww, how cute of you trying to sound intimidating. That's Lucy fur's job though. You wouldn't be able to win a fight against me, cutie~"

"Asmo, the lustful one eh? Well, yer just all bark and no bite. Creepy girly that only is good as dressing and posing before a mirror, are ya even strong? I don't think so, if all ya do is being like how ya are!"

-What... how can a human be like this and actually have the guts to be sassy? And a creepy girly? Good job MC, you managed to break the lustful one's heart, how dare you.

-After that, Asmo doesn't even direct the word to them and pretty much has casted them out. Unwilling to forgive them, no matter how much they cry and plead him.

Beelzebub and MC:

-The gluttonous demon who's actually a sweet pea. He's the giant of the brothers, now he has a MC standing on a chair as they snatch his sandwich to eat it. Oh, the audacity of that human...!

"Ok, you little peanut. Give me back my sandwich or else I will crush you and then eat you!!"

-Seeing that they have indeed pissed him off, they only grin and give a stare at the glutton.

"Ya only work for eating and eating. Don't you even do exercise? Yer gonna get fat and gross. No one will find you attractive, because yer so ugly! I won't even reel back in fear, cuz ya don't cause fear!"

-They're so rude and he just wants to smash them and knock 'em all the pegs down. Ugh, he watches as they eat his sandwich. He gets grumpy all day after that incident.

In the end all brothers are so pissed off, and just want to kill this MC already. What was Diavolo thinking on sending them such a rude little prat!

[captcas]

Trucks, Tenders, and Tying the Knot

Claire plays wingwomen for Uncle Cas while watching the trucks. Prompt from this tweet. read on ao3

Castiel is already planning the next six days in bed from a god awful migraine as the loud whir of what might be a front loader clashes with the sound of a jack hammer.

But Claire loves trucks.

And Castiel has the hardest time saying no to his six-year old niece so obviously— despite it being 90 degrees in the shade and the obnoxious amount of noise— they’re sitting outside watching a construction site.

Cas wishes he could say it wasn’t his best (only) option for his Saturday night. But, when Meg begged him for a night off, he didn’t even hesitate. He owes his adopted sister more than he’d care to admit and Claire really is one of his favorite humans.

So, again, they’re watching the trucks.

Pointing curiously at all the different types of trucks, Claire asks Cas to name them off, but Cas truly couldn’t guess the different names for these things if his life depended on it. At first he tried Googling the answers, but Claire’s patience waned so he started just making them up instead.

It’ll only be a problem for him once his adoptive-sister is fielding phone calls from kindergarten when Claire calls an Excavator a “Whoozitkabob”.

It’ll be very hard for Cas not to laugh.

After a while of watching the free (loud) show, Cas realizes it really is 90 degrees and they should probably be keeping hydrated.

This is why Castiel isn’t a parent.

They walk out of the nearby Starbucks a few minutes later, Cas with an iced coffee and Claire with her Vanilla Bean Frappuccino which Cas had to convince her was just a milkshake with a fancy name . He glances down at his niece who is now enthusiastically guzzling the beverage down as though she wasn’t almost in tears about it minutes prior.

Kids, man.

As they reapproach the construction site and their front row seats, Claire stops walking and Cas almost trips trying to stop with the same abruptness.

“Phewwww, I don’t know what he’s fixing but mines broken.” Cas chokes on his coffee before following her gaze to the man in question.

Damn.

“Claire— where did— nevermind—“ Cas knows where Claire heard that, his sister never being subtle with her sexual innuendos despite the impressionable nature of her kid. The most impressive part is Claire is… not wrong.

Flustered by the comment and whether he should tell her objectifying men is not a good look but also by his extreme want to objectify the same man that made Claire stop in her tracks, Castiel just stands there.

And then he stares.

Because damn.

He thinks Leonardo Da Vinci may have been a time traveler because when he described the perfect man he must have been talking about this man. Strong arms, broad chest, bow legs, sandy hair, a smile to power the Chrysler Building, freckles for day, and the greenest eyes Castiel has ever seen even from this far away. He’s dressed a little nicer than most of the workers so Castiel reasons that he must be the contractor or project lead but holy shit can he wear a flannel and jeans.

Tight jeans.

Maybe they can watch the trucks for a bit longer.

Before Castiel can realize what’s happening, Claire is pulling him in the direction of said man. As much as he knows he shouldn’t let a six-year-old wander toward an active construction site he also knows he would never have the guts to approach the man otherwise. He does a quick sweep to make sure there aren’t any Thingamahoozies around and that there’s a fence and decides they’re probably fine walking closer.

As long as his heart doesn’t beat straight out of his chest.

“Hey, Mister. Whatcha fixing?” Claire is yelling as she runs toward the guy who at first looks a little taken aback by the precocious child hurtling towards him but then he notices Cas and breaks into a wide smile that practically knocks Castiel onto the ground.

He reminds himself that the contractor is just happy this kid is supervised and that he is entirely imagining the way the man’s jaw slacked at the sight of Castiel.

Now that he’s drawn to them, Castiel knows he’ll be picturing those lips every time he closes his eyes for the foreseeable future.

The man is laughing and shaking Claire’s hand through the chain-link fence and Castiel realizes he’s staring again. He approaches the two of them, and apparently they’re fast friends, because Claire introduces him, “Oh, there you are. This is Dean!”

Dean .

Cas smiles what he hopes is a normal smile because he feels like he’s lost all control of himself being in this man– Dean’s presence. Somehow his brain tells him to reach out his hand and before he knows it, their fingers are intertwined and he’s speaking, “Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel.”

Then he stares some more but maybe Dean doesn’t mind because he’s staring right back and it’s giving Castiel all the time in the world to study every fleck of gold etched into the summer green of this man’s eyes. In no time at all he moves onto the constellation of freckles that are patterning his cheeks which, if Castiel isn’t mistaken, are starting to red in a blush that may be the most adorable thing he’s ever seen– Claire aside.

Oh yeah, Claire.

Castiel reluctantly lets go of the man’s hand when Claire snaps them out of their trance, “We need you to fix whatever we’ve got broken.”

Oh, fantastic, now he’s mortified.

But Dean doesn’t bat an eye, in fact he throws his head back in laughter and it’s the sweetest sound to ever grace Castiel’s ears and he swears if he could he would spend a lifetime trying to hear that laugh everyday.

Dean glances at Castiel’s left hand– not subtle at all – and then looks towards Claire fondly, “Is that what your dad said?” Castiel doesn’t have time to focus on the fact Dean thinks Claire is his because if he thought his mind was reeling from Dean’s check of his marital status then it’s absolutely worthless when the man looks back towards him and winks.

Carve up his tombstone because Castiel is a goner.

Claire, apparently completely unaware of the absolute stupor she’s put her uncle in, continues chatting, “Oh, he’s not my dad, that’s my uncle, Cas.”

“Cas.” Dean looks like he’s mulling the nickname over like an award winning wine and then he smiles. “Well, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you and your uncle Cas.”

Claire beams before gasping loudly, “OH MY GOD, UNCLE CAS! IT’S A ZINGAMAHOOEY!”

Send that tombstone via express mail because Castiel just died of embarrassment.

Dean’s face screws into something too cute to be legal and he shoots a glance at Castiel, clearly looking for an explanation. Somehow Castiel finds words, “She kept asking what they were called and I’m clueless.”

Cas could swear Dean’s eyes twinkle before speaking again, “Well maybe I could teach you… uh… over dinner?”

“Oh yes please! I love chicken tenders!” Claire, apparently paying attention again, chimes in.

Cas is about to object but then Dean laughs again and says, “Of course! I know the best spot for chicken tenders.”

With Claire satisfied and looking again at the construction site, Dean looks back toward Cas with nervousness etched across his face, “Is— uh— I mean— if you want to..”

He can’t help but enthusiastically put the man out of his misery, “I’d love to.”

And they do.

A week later they’re munching on burgers and chicken tenders listening to Dean talk about all the different kinds of trucks and Claire try and tell him he’s wrong because Uncle Cas said.

And if Cas thought the night couldn’t have possibly gotten better, Dean drops off Claire first and walks him to the door and kisses him goodbye with the promise of another dinner— just them two.

Dean keeps his promise and a million promises... including the biggest promise of their lives with the tiniest Maid of Honor by their side.

[capesandshapes]

All You Had to Do Was Stay (Post Reveal/ Pre Relationship) (3/4)

Summary:

Three years ago, Marinette revealed her identity to him. Three years ago, he promised to wait in a hotel room for her. Three years ago, she opened the door to find it empty.

Now she's expected to play nice with him, since she's the maid of honor and he's unfortunately the best man. But old habits die hard, and old feelings die harder.

"This is a wedding, not a death march, Marinette."

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

It was going well.

Or, at least as well as a combination Bachelor and Bachelorette party planned entirely via awkward emails could go.

Which could be attributed solely to her and her thousands of schedules and planners, along with the fact that she checked the weather almost religiously and the tide predictions. Adrien just bankrolled most of the thing, which worked well enough seeing as he was the head of a multi-billion-dollar fashion house and she was an up-and-coming designer with an Etsy shop focusing on affordable fashion for normal people. Sure, he insisted on a few things, such as not using the Couffaine’s houseboat (He’d actually tried to argue against a boat entirely) or serving shots with Kim and Alix finally reuniting at this party—But most of it could be attributed to her.

She was pretty sure that was him trying to please her, to play nice after that disastrous night outside the bakery. He was avoiding her as much as possible, and any time he was faced with her he resolved the tension by agreeing to her as much as possible.

He was capable of learning, she supposed.

Marinette stood to the side of the bar as the boat they road on bobbed upwards and downwards, a hand braced on the counter and a glass of water that had she poured into a wineglass in the other. She hadn’t admitted to anyone, but she had a habit of getting seasick. The dim lighting of the fairy lights twinkling overhead combined with the loud pounding of music did a good job of hiding that.

She gave a small, weak smile as she looked out to her friends on the dance floor, some of them being people who she hadn’t seen for far longer than Adrien. Kim and Alix were locked in an exaggerated slow dance that had the two cackling, Juleka and Rose had stolen away to a corner, and Sabrina was excitedly explaining her business as a personal assistant to anyone who would listen. It’d been a long time since she’d seen them all, and it made her sentimental. She rarely saw anyone outside of Alya and Nino now.

“Makes you nostalgic, huh?” A deep, familiar voice asked her, obviously having slid in beside her at the bar at some point.

The side of her mouth tugged harder, and that nauseous feeling in her stomach momentarily left her. She let her blue eyes drift over, practically beaming as she took him in. “Luka Couffaine,” she said. A part of her wondered if he would come.

His long, shaggy blue hair and sharp eyes were now the highlight of the evening. Or almost the highlight. “Marinette,” he said, “fancy meeting you here.”

“Oh yes,” Marinette agreed, “it’s shocking for the maid of honor to be at the Bachelorette party.”

“Well, when she’s got a problem with the best man,” Luka began.

Marinette shot him a look. “Be quiet, someone could hear you.”

“I think everyone would have to be blind not to know,” Luka said, leaning against the bar beside her. She knew where he was looking, who he was watching. Yet, despite that, he said, “a part of me always hoped it would be us out there. Doing all of this.”

Her smile fell. “But you’re happy now?”

“Immensely,” he confirmed, and one look at his face reaffirmed that. He was still watching, still taking it all in. If her eyes traveled to the same place, she could do it too. She could look at Adrien Agreste and wonder how everything got so utterly awful. “I knew it wouldn’t be us, Marinette. We weren’t those type of people.”

“The type of people to get married?”

“The type of people to fit together without any gaps,” he explained. “No room for concern, no regrets.”

She sighed. There was more to it, of course. There was so much more to everything, like the fact that she could never do it, never give herself completely to Luka. She was always waiting, lingering in hallways at the slightest flash of the right shade of blond, and hearing familiar laughter in the silence.

She loved Luka, but she was always wanting. She needed Chat, she needed Adrien, she needed whatever form of him he would give her—

“You still love him, don’t you?” Luka asked. It was a stupid question. She’d seen Adrien six times since he came back, and half of those moments were in passing. Any rational person would say no, only crazy romantics would say yes.

So, she stayed silent.

“I want you to be happy,” Luka said finally, and it was a bucket of cold water poured on her. A reminder of reality, of where she was now, and a rush of that seasickness back to her gut. But when he said it, there was that hint of leftover desire, that underlying subtext that there was a hole in his heart, and it would always be there for her.

And the cold understanding that she never made a groove in her heart for him.

She turned to look at him, only to find him gone.

And with that came sickness.

Awful, churning sickness. A vile wave of nausea that assaulted her stomach. The boat lurched, and with it, so did she.

My god, she was going to die.

Marinette Dupain Cheng, beloved daughter and friend. Died of seasickness because of her own poor choices while planning a party to celebrate her friends’ upcoming wedding.

She threw her head back with another large wave, her eyes watering as she fought the overwhelming urge to die. Lila Rossi was at the party, slithering onto the guest list with a perfectly timed apology to Alya about an awful Instagram post. If Marinette turned any greener she was sure she’d be on Rossi’s snapchat story, paired with a caption questioning why exactly the poor girl was so sick. Another pregnancy rumor.

She grimaced at the thought and nearly fell to her knees as another wave jostled her. Luckily, a hand caught her before she could fall, the warmth of a thick blazer spread across her shoulders and distracted her momentarily.

“And this,” said a voice as she was hauled back onto her feet, “is why I argued against the boat.”

She turned both quickly and unsteadily, catching a mixture of blond and green before, unfortunately, practically falling against it.

She could have done worse.

She could have done much worse.

Such as vomiting on his Burberry jacket or ruining his Chanel shoes.

Adrien’s arms caught her easily, hooking underneath her armpits and hauling her upwards once more. “I’d make a joke about you falling for me, but all things considered… I’d say you’re sick of me.”

Badum tss.

Marinette groaned, resting her forehead against his chest only because it was the main thing keeping the rest of the world from overwhelming her. “Were your jokes always this stupid?”

“Things seem a lot funnier when you’re madly in love,” he said, and she made sure to fire back a glare in response. “That’s good,” he said with an air of authority when she looked at him, “eyes on me, focus on the conversation instead of the waves.”

“Can I have a different conversation partner?” she fired back.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at her as he kept a hand braced on her back, the other braced on her shoulder to keep her upright. “Do you want someone else to know you’re sick?” He asked, “because I guarantee Alya and Nino will hear.”

Ugh.

“We’re going to get you inside,” Adrien decided, evidently having spotted a door back into the cabin.

“And then?” She asked, she didn’t see how that would help.

“And then I’ll stay by you in case it all goes south, and you can play YouTube videos on my phone to distract you for another hour or two until Alya goes looking for you. Then you’ll take some selfies, come back, and we’ll wash, rinse, and repeat.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “I don’t trust you to stay anywhere, Agreste.”

He flinched. “Okay, fair, but… I’m your only option here so,” he tilted his head at her, looking down as he withdrew his hand from her waist only to offer it to her again. “Either you take my hand and we go, or I leave you here at the mercy of the Seine, which seems to be in quite the mood today.”

He had a point.

“Fine,” she said, slapping her hand into his. “I’ll sit next to you, but I will not talk to you. Don’t expect a miraculous turn around.”

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

“I hope you know that nearly every YouTube recommendation of yours being highlight reels of Ladybug and Chat Noir is not endearing,” Marinette informed Adrien, “it makes you look self-obsessed.”

“It’s not every YouTube recommendation,” Adrien scoffed, moving beside her to point at his screen. “See? Anime.”

“Top ten anime waifus?” Marinette read out, shooting him a look.

“You know that’s not what it says,” he responded, yet she couldn’t help but note the way that he took a second look as if making sure.

They were on the ground in the cabin of the boat, nearest the hallway where the kitchens and bathroom were. Adrien was the one to declare that the safest, a place where she could get water if needed, and if worse came…

“When will this finally pass,” Marinette asked yet again as she let herself fall onto her back, she’d repeated the question with every single video finished, but her impatience continued to grow.

And he repeated the same answer, “in four hours when the boat finally docks and we end up on dry land.”

Four hours.

“You were never good in the water,” he said, “and this is coming from the guy dressed like a cat.”

She glared, slapping his thigh. “When this boat lands, the truce ends.”

His smile faltered at that, and he let himself sink down onto the ground beside her, his eyes trained towards the ceiling.

This had a time limit; all of this had a time limit. Even she had almost forgotten that. Because eventually the wedding would end, eventually there would be no more forced interactions, eventually he would go home. Eventually she would go back to her life and wonder the same damn question.

“Why weren’t you there that night?” There was no gracefulness to how it was presented, it merely clattered from her like a knife falling from a kitchen table. It was heavy and loaded, the kind of question that you swallowed down every time you saw someone, not the type that you lobbed out when you were laying side by side and wishing it had been like this so many other times.

She could feel his eyes on her.

“I…” he began, but whatever he meant to say was a false start. He swallowed the letter and tried again. “I don’t…” Know? Care? Want to talk about this?

Why did she care anymore?

What would it change?

Nothing.

“I was scared,” he said finally.

“Okay,” she said.

And that was that. That should have been that. That should have been her hint, her great sign.

“Why?”

And with that single word he rose to his forearms, looking over at her. He was in her field of vision, where she couldn’t ignore him. A hint of pink graced the edge of his green eyes, but his lips were set in an almost determined look, and she wondered if he would stumble over his words again.

“My father was just arrested for being Hawk Moth, my mother was found in my basement, I lost the only home I ever knew to police investigations, and suddenly guardians were at my door asking for Plagg—all in one day. Choose a reason, Marinette.” It wasn’t vile, it wasn’t angry, it wasn’t even cold. She didn’t know how to describe it.

“You disappeared.”

“I couldn’t stand to be in Paris any longer.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“What would I say?!” He replied, his voice loud, far louder than he obviously intended. He flinched as it echoed through the air, and suddenly she was all knives and anger.

“Hello Marinette,” she responded, “or should I say Ladybug, the girl I’ve claimed to be in love with for six years! It’s been great, a fun time and all, but man am I tired—see you in three years without a single message! Good luck wondering if it’s because of you, if you being the girl behind the mask is what changed it all, even though the only difference was one scrap of red fabric!” She glared, sitting up, “Miss. You.”

“You think that’s how it was?” He began, his eyebrows narrowed as he raised from his arms, his eyes staring holes into hers. “I told you…”

“You’d love whoever was behind the mask,” she finished, pushing off of the ground. “But let’s be honest here—Not Lila, not Chloe, and not me. Never me.” She stumbled to her feet, gripping the wall as she finally stood. “I told you who I was, and you were terrified! I saw it, I knew! I should have known why—"

“Because you’re you, because you’re Marinette, because you’re--” he was scrambling to his feet, scrambling to keep her there, scrambling to make some sort of sense.

“Because I’m Marinette?” She repeated, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to hear the mistake. To know that she was right, that this was all some stupid curse put upon her by a universe that would thankfully, in a month’s time, solve the situation.

“That’s not—Jesus Christ, I—”

He didn’t need to say more.

She began to walk away, to risk the treacherous river waves. Anything was better than this, anyone was better than him—

“Because you’re perfect,” he called before she could even begin to walk out that stupid door, and every cell in her body stopped moving. “Because you’re pretty and you’re kind. Because you have a perfect family and everyone loves you, Nino loves you, Alya loves you, I—” He thought better of saying whatever came next there. “Because you were going to be a fashion designer, and the best one anyone’s ever seen. Because you try to be good to everyone you meet. Because at the end of the day you’ll always be good, too good for me, and I’m…”

“You’re,” she was surprised that she asked it, that she could process anything.

And there was a pause, a long, heavy one. One where anything, any combination of words could go wrong.

“Because people would see you walking beside me, and you would still be good, and you would still be kind and you would still be gentle; but they’d see none of that. Because they’d look over and see me. They’d see what my father made and what my father ruined.” Quietly, he confessed, “you would be perfect and none of that would matter, because they’d look over and see Hawkmoth’s son.”