#Pretty Pink Patterns make me Hypnotized | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

worldoftom · 2 years ago

Text

Blep! 👅 [18+]

words » 16.3k

verse » Fantasy & Putts [18+]

pairing » roommate fwb actor Tom x fem reader

warnings » all smut, explicit warnings under the cut

disclaimer » this story is 18+ ; unsuitable for minors

special thanks » @hypnotized-so-mesmerized ; @nowayhomeparker ; @spidey-sophie ;

b’s note » hey everyone! this came out of nowhere, but in the fantasyverse Tom gets so much oral and y/n not so much, which isn’t fair, right? our poor y/n. so here it is, a oneshot feat. *drumroll please* cunnilingus! lots and lots of it! and the best part is: it can be read as a standalone, no need to read what happens before :D a very special thank you to my hoes because this wouldn’t exist without our fascination with that picture of Tom in the pink polo, you’re the best 😍

fantasyverse masterpost | main masterlist

explicit warnings : Tom eats out a lot (not at a restaurant) aka oral sex, fem receiving in several places, including standing by a window (they don’t get interrupted, but the Harries are aware of shenanigans) and the garden + creampie & y/n recording it on camera, Tom gets so excited about it, it’s adorable + oral sex, male receiving in a bathroom. i think that’s it! also please don’t try this at home, it’s just fiction, nobody should be expected to have such a short recovery time!

~ ⛳️ ~

(timeline: springtime, six months after MFL)

So. Here’s how it happened.

It was just a roommates night out and it was all about fun because it had been too long since you’ve all hung out together. You have been the one to spend the most time at home, thanks to your now full-time job at the Toasty Den and the vlog channel you still manage to create content for every week.

As for the boys, Tuwaine is the one you see the most, even though he comes and goes; as far as you know, he spends a lot of time at his family home. Tom’s been out of the country for a month and will go back to work in only a few days. Sometimes Harry goes with him, but when he doesn’t, he’s always going in and out of town with Harrison to work on their doctrails—or so they say. And Sam spends most of his time away because he’s enrolled in a twelve-week culinary course, and when he isn’t in class, he applied to an apprenticeship in a restaurant a couple of towns over.

This means it’s really tough to gather them all for a few hours of fun. Not knowing when it might happen again in the future, you wanted to document pretty much everything, which was why you brought out the new camera that Tom bought for your half anniversary.

Harry freaked out when he saw it, twirling it around in his hands. “This was such a good choice, oh my god, you’ve gotta let me try it out.”

“Nope, sorry mate,” you said, making ‘gimme’ gestures with your palms turned upward. “This baby contains very sensitive pieces you don’t wanna be messing around with.”

Harry let it drop onto the kitchen island counter right away. “You’re gross.”

After that, since he wanted to check the quality so badly, you went upstairs and deleted anything that could compromise the original purpose of the new camera and later, you took your new baby out for a spin. Harry experimented a little like a boy with a new Christmas present, you took some pictures of everyone as well, and by the end of the night the memory card was filled with plenty of great moments among friends.

Tuwaine and Harrison were in charge of the night’s activities. And boy, was it messy and fun. It started with a drinking card game at home to get you all pumped, then a late dinner at a new pub Harrison had been obsessed with, a short visit to this ‘Glow In The Park’ party that was being held at the city park —though you all spent more time getting drunk by the spiked ice cream sundae bar truck than anything else— and finally you went clubbing. Tuwaine’s choice. And it was perfect.

In the club, neon lights distorting everyone’s sight, it was dark and loud and hot. Especially Tom. He was in a tight patterned shirt and your favorite jeans, scrumptiously snug around his perky bum, and he was all glowing and toned and huge because he’d been on a serious muscle-up plan at the gym for his next acting role. His thighs had gotten thick, his shoulders massive, his biceps no longer fit in any of his tops so he kept dragging a finger under the sleeves to, you believe, alleviate the pressure of being a proper hunk. And of course, you being absolutely smitten with his fingers, that’s not news to anyone, you kept staring at him and he always caught you just when your eyes were skimming down his veiny arms and focused on his gorgeous hands. Fuck.

“Take a picture, darlin’, it will last you longer,” he taunted you one of those times, wrapping an arm around your waist and blowing a raspberry into the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder.

“I’ll take a picture when they’re in my cunt,” you nearly spat at him as you grabbed his hand and tugged him closer.

“I will gladly make that a photoshoot, just name a date and a time.”

Then you dragged him to the dance floor, but all you wanted was to fuck yourself on his hand with the music loud around you and everybody lost in the sway and sweat of the crowd. Tom, however, he’d be enraptured by the column of your throat and the curve of your ass and the curl of his fingers kneading your sweet spot on repeat. But sadly none of that happened.

You do have a little decorum. Occasionally.

After a while, you followed like a kitten as he strolled towards the bar to fetch another round, but when you got there, he must have sensed your presence —or probably saw your reflection in the mirror behind the counter— because he turned around with a couple of beers in his hands and bumped into you. Spilling them all over your cleavage.

“Fuck. Meee,” you cursed at the cold liquid slithering down between your breasts.

Tom’s face showed no surprise, only a smug grin. “Whoops. Guess we’re gonna have to go home.”

Asshole.

You went home right after, as he expected you to. Tom’s hand was heavy on your knee on the taxi ride over, nails digging into the pliant flesh on the underside, his leg bouncing anxiously as he tried to contain his excitement. And as soon as you stepped foot inside the house, the lock barely closed behind you, his mouth was on you and that same leg slipped between your thighs, pressing up. Shoes were thrown into the hallway, your purse lost somewhere in the middle. You pressed the camera into your chest and sneaked your other palm inside Tom’s shirt, all while his hands groped your body.

You started going up the stairs with him in tow, lips sucking a wet kiss into your neck, but you tripped on nothing and he tripped on you when he tried to catch you, and you fell on your ass, and he ended up with his head at the level of your waist. Both of you laughed like crazy at the mess of limbs spread everywhere. Being slightly touched by alcohol as he was, he bit on the side of your breast and kissed your half exposed tummy, and then tugged on the edge of your skirt until it was all hiked up around your hips.

Before you noticed it, he was pushing your knickers to the side and diving headfirst between your thighs. It was so good while it lasted, his hands holding you up, his nose breathing over your clit, the relentless jabs of his tongue past the ring of tight muscles. Though after the first, heaven-sent stretch of his fingers into you, the lock on the door clicked and you had to bolt out of there.

By the time you got upstairs, you were laughing so hard at the mess of the night and slightly disgusted by the stench of beer on your bosom, and the mood faded. It didn’t help that Tom was fast asleep by the time you got out of the shower, either.

So here you are now, sitting on the window seat in your shared bedroom, in a flimsy top and your knickers because your bottoms were driving you mad, extremely horny and extremely wet, thinking of Tom’s crooked mouth and his beautiful dick. That loser really had to leave for a work meeting at morning-fuck o’clock, didn’t he? He’s unbelievable. He lets you sit on his lap, teases you, and then bails on you. It’s ridiculous. Although he did suggest a self pleasure fest in bed after he left, and you did try, but it ended in frustration. You couldn’t stop picturing his fingers and his thighs and his cock, but had absolutely nothing like them to bounce on.

You sigh.

You’re waiting for him to come back home after his meeting, though you think he mentioned a brunch with his mates or something like that. This means it might be a while before he returns, so you have to entertain yourself somehow.

Adjusting your position on the cushion to keep your legs from being cramped under your ass, you pull the camera out of its bag and connect it to your laptop. It’s propped on the large windowsill, and you click through the photos from last night, from the pub to the Glow In The Park party and many more.

From group pictures to singles and doubles and trouples, there’s a bit of everything hidden in the memory card. Tom is in most of them, either with all of his friends and their silly ways, or with Harrison because those two love sharing the camera, or under Tuwaine’s arm reaching up to kiss his neck or his face, or with his brothers in what you have learned to be a tradition of theirs, Tom in the middle with his arms around them. Pictures of the two of you, of course, and of just him with his tongue out or in his favorite poses, a wide grin with his eyes scrunched closed or his middle finger pointed at the photographer.

There’s a sequence of images on what you think might be the way to the club at the end of the night, clearly taken by Harry from the back. You’re walking ahead of him, showing something on your phone to Tom, who seems unaware of it in the first picture, looking over his shoulder and flipping the camera in the second one, a third one where he’s looking at the phone, and a last one where you’re both laughing at whatever you had found, his arm around you by then. You don’t remember the specifics of that moment, but it did result in a few cute shots.

Already at the club, the next photos are darker and less frequent. A few interesting ones at the table where you were stationed with your drinks that you take note for later, but for the most part it’s pictures of the six of you. You do click onto ones of just Tom, flipping you off and with his mouth open trying to tell you something, and then his palm getting closer and closer to the lens because he wanted you to stop taking pictures and go dancing with him.

And apparently, you did. On the dance floor, it’s obvious that you tried to take pictures, but they came out dark and blurry. There are videos, though, and they’re all pretty decent, the boys having a good time though the focus shifts to Tom. He’s hilarious when he thinks he’s being a sexy dancer. You shake your head at his laughable dance moves on the screen. After, you find a couple of selfies of you, of you and the boys in silent cheers, arms in the air and all because they’re silly and dramatic like that, and finally of you and Tom. You’re both smiling in one, in the next you’re smiling and he’s wiping something off your brow with a sweet look on his face —you totally stop on that one for a few seconds, saving a copy into the cloud— followed by one where his mouth has dropped to an affronted ‘oh’ because you’re shoving his face off camera. And in the next one, it’s just his ass.

You remember this moment in particular quite well. After the selfies, you were going to take another one with Tom’s squinty face in the background when someone knocked into you and you had to move the camera away. It seems to have clicked anyway, so all you got was a shot of his ass in the dark. You adjust a few filters to brighten it up just to check, and yep, that’s a pretty centered picture of Tom’s remarkable bum. You’d find it hilarious if it wasn’t so pretty.

A couple of random pictures of the crowd later, there’s another video. A shorter, sneakier one, though you don’t recall what was going through your mind at the time. The scene in itself doesn’t seem familiar, but it was clearly filmed by you. Tom is mouthing the lyrics of the song with his eyes closed, sipping his beer next. For a little while, the image zooms in on his face —well, on his jaw, let’s be honest— as he sways along to the music. When it zooms out, Harrison’s face comes into shot and you can perceive him shouting, “You’re here to dance, missy!” and then there’s your laugh and when the video freezes at the end, Tom’s very furrowed brow is front and center.

Anything after that is blurry as hell. What is supposed to be a group photo after you left the dance floor for more drinks, one of the twins making a toast, another of Tom, Harrison and Tuwaine making a stupid pose you believe was their hallmark in acting school, and several others, it’s all a mess of color and distorted faces.

“What the fuck.”

It seems as though someone wasn’t in a good state by that time. You don’t remember drinking that much, but clearly you were wrong.

Laughing at it, you realize that not all of the next photos are like this. There are very, very clear photos of Tom’s hands and Tom’s forearms and Tom’s neck, which leaves you questioning your drunk self’s intentions. In one of them, he’s standing by the table, his brothers around him having a conversation, but he’s staring at the dance floor, a beer bottle between his hands, and his tongue is poking out of the corner of his mouth. If you remember correctly from what you’ve seen so far, it’s something you caught him doing a lot throughout the night.

A lightbulb turns on brightly in your mind.

You figure that Tom’s meeting must be over by now, so you decide to send him this picture because it won’t bother him if he’s already at brunch or on his way over. You save the photo in a folder in your cloud and grab your phone to crop it to an appropriate size, with his face at the top and his veiny hands at the bottom, blurring out the background around him.

When it’s ready, you open Tom’s favorite messaging app and send it to him.

You: what do you think about when your tongue goes 😛

Not expecting him to answer right away, you go back to the laptop and search for those pictures of what you believe are accidental close-ups of his body. You want to save those as well. For a rainy day…

Tom’s reply comes after you’re finished deleting them from the camera’s memory card.

Tom: depends

Tom: but mostly ⛳️!

You: Why did i even ask

Tom: you tell me darling

Tom: what do you want me to be thinkin about 😏😏😏

You: I’m gonna wipe that f-ing emoji off your phone

As it is, his response turns you on more than it should. You hate those damned smirking emojis, but you can imagine his face while he’s choosing them from the huge list of yellow little faces at his disposal. You’ve seen it so often by now. He’s a cheeky little fuck by nature, but things get naturally more difficult for you when you’re as extra horny as you are at the moment.

The problem was that while Tom was gone for the last month, he kept traveling back and forth and the time zones were tricky to get a phone call in, so you did most of your talking to him via text message. Which sucked. When he came back on Wednesday, he was exhausted, and Thursday was an awful day for you at the Den, and on Friday he had a few errands to run and then you went out with the boys, so there was no time to quench that one month old thirst.

Hence the state of your legs right now. They’re weak, craving him, and wet in the middle.

Instead of sitting there in frustration, you take a few pictures of yourself and choose the perfect one to send to him. It’s mostly your naked belly, panties peeking at the bottom and a hint of a nipple at the top. First, you send him a little heads-up:

You: 18+ picture incoming

You: Watch your back!

Then you select the picture and choose the temporary message option at the bottom to make sure it won’t stay visible in the chat after he sees it. The message status turns to ‘seen’ almost immediately.

Tom: tease

You: Blep 😛

Tom: its pussy oclock and i’m stuck at brunch 😡😡😡

You: 💦🐈 waiting for 👅

You’re not sure if that sequence of emojis makes total sense, but Tom has seen it and he sends back a cheeky emoticon:

Tom: :D!

He must have understood the message.

Afterwards, every half hour, you send another message: a 💦 emoji after a clock emoji, always showing a different time up to 12—which you interpret as a countdown to zero. He doesn’t respond until after the third message, sending you three middle finger emojis and his favorite exclamation points.

Tom: 🖕🖕🖕 !!!

You stop with the texts and focus on flicking through the photos, paying more attention to detail. In one of the pictures at the pub, Tom has once more his tongue poking out of his mouth, and you send that picture to him.

You: BLEP 😛

You: Blep my pussy as often as you do this mf

He replies a few minutes later.

Tom: is this your idea of sexting

Tom: (its working)

You laugh at his response because how could you not. He gets you.

Later, a while after you’ve put down your laptop and started working on a rich salad for lunch, you have your phone resting on the kitchen island counter when it pings and buzzes once.

Tom: guess who

Shortly after you read it, he sends a selfie. A close-up of his face with his tongue tipping at the corner of his mouth. And a second one of him with his eyes all wide and fully sticking out his tongue. From what little you see of the background, it seems like he’s in the car already.

You want to send something back that follows the mood of your previous conversation with him. Something that will show him how you’re still craving him for more than just a sweet welcome home hug. The loveseat in the corner of the kitchen catches your attention. You sit on it and spread your knees, taking a picture of your thighs with a space large enough for Tom in the middle.

You: There’s an empty spot waiting for you

Tom: 😛😛😛

Tom: actually no

You: WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO

Tom: I MEAN

Tom: 👅👅👅

You: Oh

You: 🤤

Safe to say, it isn’t a salad that you want to have for lunch.

When Tom arrives, he marches up to you with his mouth in a tight line and greets you with an intoxicating kiss, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other hand grabbing and squeezing a butt cheek. It’s full of tongue and teeth and pure hunger, leaving you breathless in a matter of seconds.

“What’s gotten into you?” you gasp out a question, thumbing at the corner of your mouth to wipe a little spit.

“Nothing,” he says, breathing heavily. “But I’m getting into you.”

You chuckle at him, but have no time to react. He smacks your butt and says, “Get that hot arse upstairs, young lady. Gonna blep that pussy so hard you’ll pass the fuck out.”

“Uh, excuse me?”

The Harries are right behind him. Not even you had seen them. Tom apologizes, but dismisses them with a gesture of his shoulder, adding, “We’ll see you at dinner.” And as he pushes you past the living room and up the stairs, your bottom lip doesn’t leave its spot between the two rows of your teeth.

You expected this, after being interrupted last night and not getting it off your mind this morning, but you didn’t think he would be this raw with you. Or with them. Nevertheless, you follow the touch on the small on your back and trek all the way to the bedroom, with the ghost of Tom’s breath hot on the nape of your neck.

“You look so pretty today, baby,” he whispers into your ear once you cross the invisible border between the hallway and the bedroom. Kicking the door closed, he grabs your hand and twirls you on your feet a couple of times, stepping forward and stopping you mid-turn so you’ll crash against his chest. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this morning the whole time.”

“How come?” you tease, wrapping both arms around his neck.

“Can’t believe that stupid alarm went off when you were about to sit on my dick,” he grunts into a peck.

“Guess we need better time management skills,” you say to him, collecting his soft, smiling lips into a proper kiss.

It lasts less than a few seconds. Tom pulls away with a smack and says, “Now. Where’d you take that picture?” You blink at him, unsure which one he means. “The one with the legs. ‘Cause I fucking loved it and I want to claim the spot you saved for me.”

You hum into his mouth, then say, “Sadly that was downstairs, so—”

“Okay, that’s out of the question.”

“The Harries would kill you.” You chuckle, thinking back to his brother and friend, your roommates and friends too, and to how tired they must be of sharing a house with two people like you and Tom. “And me.”

Truth is, you both have caught them in the action as well in the past six or so months. The house is big enough for the six of you, but it’s not a freaking mansion. Not to mention that the walls are thin and the piping in the bathrooms is the same as every other smaller house in the country. Sound travels. Fast. So you and Tom have had your scares, too. It’s not often, but it happens. In the end, it’s tit for tat.

“Yeah, they would, and I’m already on very thin ice.”

“Maybe you should control yourself a little,” you suggest with a giggle.

Tom gasps and smacks your butt jokingly. “Uh, I’m sorry, miss, who climbed on who’s lap this morning?”

“But that’s different,” you remind him. “They weren’t here this morning.”

“And I didn’t think they were there just now,” he groans, rubbing an eye with one hand, the other wrapped around yours now. “Oh, I know just the spot. Here, sit over there.”

You look at where he’s pointing even though you know exactly where he means.

“The window seat?” Tom shrugs like it was so obvious. And okay, knowing him and his exhibitionist ways, it was.

“Do you not want to? We could do—”

“No, no. It’s fine, champ. It’s just a little… narrow, that’s all.”

It’s a 24-inch wide bench, so you can see it working a little, but judging by his haste right now, it could end up in disaster.

“We’ll make it work.”

He makes sure to push the curtains to the side before tapping the cushion where he wants you. It’s right in front of the largest of the three windows surrounding the seat. As you turn on your heels to do sit down, he stops you and keeps you turned to the window, tilting your torso forward a little bit. You look for support on the glass and look behind you at his puzzled expression, sensing the hand on your waist before you actually see it. Tom undoes the button at the front of your shorts, the zipper, then removes them and your underwear at the same time, exposing you to the room. He throws both garments somewhere behind him, but you don’t check where. Then, he needs just a couple of seconds to slide his hand up the inside of your thigh, seeking your wetness between the legs.

“Had a better idea,” he says with a grin, giving your butt a light slap, adding, “Knee on the seat, baby. Lean forward and push those lovely hips backwards, will you, hm? For me?”

With each of his words, his hot hand massages your sex, fingertips resting at the top of your mound when he cups you there. Tom helps you get into position, placing your left knee further apart than you would have and pushing your head until your cheek rests on the glass, ass tipped back in an angle that would require him only to drop to his knees to get a face full of cunt. Which is exactly what he does.

You moan at the very first sight of him down there, at the first press of his tongue in your slit, at the first poke of his nose so close to your needy hole. Hips pushed back, you enjoy the little licks and the little dabs and the really pointy tip of his tongue slithering over every inch where it’s wet. His hands grasp your butt before they move downward and spread your lips apart so he can reach your clit with an acute angle of his neck. He keeps moving up and down, dipping it here, lapping up there, with the tip or the whole pad or even the sides from what you can tell, sucking on your lips or the nub that’s starting to swell up with blood, or even on the patch of skin right under your thigh, which shouldn’t turn you on so much but it does.

When he grasps your hips in his arms and pulls you even closer to his face, his mouth opens over your pussy and he applies an insane amount of suction. Bits of slippery skin sucked into his mouth with a loud wet noise that drives a shiver up your spine and burns in your ears. Your eyes close at the sensation, but then you flutter them open at what you see outside. Downstairs.

Harry is doing something in the garden. All it would take is a glance to the upper floor of the house and he’d get a very explicit view of your face against the glass and the top of your breasts showing through your top. You try to move away, not wanting to expose yourself like that and make things worse between the two brothers, but as you do, your hips flinch back and Tom has his mouth open and his tongue slides straight into your hole.

“Fuck,” you can’t help but moan, calling Tom’s name in a hoarse voice, followed by, “Again. Fuck yeah.” And he does it again and again and again, fucking your little hole that clenches around his tongue when it slips inside. It’s so good, and it shouldn’t be because it’s so thin and small compared to what you usually have up in there.

Tom drives forward with his shoulders and your body slams against the window. So much for not wanting to expose yourself. Your mouth fogs the window and your nipples chafe on the back cushion despite the fabric, knee sliding in the seat and spreading you open even more. You ride his tongue just like that, letting out desperate tiny ‘oh oh oh’s through your open, panting mouth.

You’re getting so fucking close by now, your insides churning with it, but you must say something or make some kind of noise that Tom recognizes because he pulls back and smacks your ass hard.

“Not so fast, young lady,” he says, slapping your cunt right after. The force of it jolts through you at lightning speed.

“Uhh, Tom,” you whine and try to press back into him, but he’s already gone.

He’s up on his feet and grabs you by the hair. You think he’s going to pull backward, towards him, but instead he presses your face against the glass and licks a straight line from your jaw all the way up to your temple.

“What were you looking at, darling?” he asks in a murmur, biting into your ear lobe.

“Nothing,” you say, flicking your eyes to the garden and finding both Harries out there now.

“It’s never nothing with you, uh,” he taunts, his face really close to yours, eyes also seeing what you saw just now. “Fucking Harries, y’know? I mean, I love those dudes, I do, but sometimes I really wish we had kept the other flat.” You moan at the thought. Unspeakable things would happen if you and Tom were to live by yourselves, you just know it. “Would you have liked that, baby girl? Just me and you, getting naked everywhere, as loud as you fucking want.”

You try to respond, but your cheek is too tight on the glass and your throat is too tight from his previous ministrations, so all that comes out is a garbled, “Nghhhhh.” It means absolutely nothing at all and everything at the same time.

“We’d have so much sex on that bloody balcony,” he moans. “You know that, right?”

There’s no denying that the balcony sex was pretty hot, and that you have rarely said no to anything he suggested in bed. It’s safe to say you would have sex out there every other day if that’s what he wanted. You truly just can’t resist him and that’s the truth.

“Alright, enough of scaring those two to death,” he says, letting go of your hair and dropping a sweet kiss on your cheek. When you look through the window, the Harries are nowhere to be seen. You can only hope they didn’t look up.

Tom moves first next, helping you straighten back on your feet. Your legs aren’t too wobbly, so you let go of his hand right after with a faint thanks and a quick peck on the lips. He disappears to the left, and the next time you see him, he’s lying down on the window seat, his eyes on you and his bare feet climbing up the seat next to your legs.

There isn’t a lot of room for him. It’s barely enough for a person to sit up straight, really, but he looks so small lying there on his back, though one of his shoulders isn’t supported by the bench at all. He’s become so massive that it makes sense that he doesn’t fit, but somehow he does make it work. Just like he said he would.

“C’mere,” he asks, patting his chest. “Come sit on my face, darling.”

“Can’t say no to that,” you giggle, unwary of the risks. Of course you won’t fit with your knees around his head, his neck and shoulders take up too much space, so you prop your foot on the bench the best you can and the other stays on the floor. You’re a little slanted to the side, but Tom has both hands on your ass and pulls you onto his mouth before you can make sure the position is right.

Everything is misaligned down there, and he ends up kissing the cleft of your ass instead. Tugging you to one side and then even closer, Tom lifts his neck and gives you a long lick from top to bottom. Your hips hesitate and press down on him to find an open mouth awaiting. He manages to suck on your lips and on your clit a little, but he can’t make his arms work to keep you spread open, and you need both hands to balance your weight on top of him. You can see what’s going to happen mere seconds before it does.

“Fucking— fuck,” he curses and tugs on your ass again. As if that would be a good idea.

You topple over him and collapse with your face on his groin, his cock almost poking your eye if you didn’t swerve to the side, your legs give out and you hit your ankles on a piece of wood and his hands don’t provide support enough. So you end up rolling off of him, and he rolls off of the seat, and you both drop to the floor with muffled painful cries.

“Fuck.” You half sigh, half giggle.

“Fuck indeed,” Tom fully laughs, hiding his face in his hands. “Moving on. This is part of it, isn’t it?”

“Sure,” you say, still giggling, accepting his hand so you’ll both get up on your feet. Tom guides you back onto the seat, sitting your butt on it this time and keeping your legs apart with both hands on your knees.

“There we go,” he says, kneeling in between them.

“Now that’s your spot.”

“Exactly. What the fuck was I thinking?” Tom giggles, placing a small kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Let’s go back to business.”

The moment Tom leans forward and grabs your hips to dive back into kissing your pussy, you immediately regret his choice. You’re fully seated and you won’t fall from here, probably, you think, and he’s on the floor which is fine, but the bench is too low for what he’s trying to achieve. At least with a torso as large as his right now.

Somehow, he manages to slip his shoulders under your thighs and he gets a little lick on your clit, but then he pulls back and sighs. “This isn’t what I expected, it’s too—”

“Low,” you complete the sentence for him.

“Yeah.” He sighs, caressing your thighs as he looks around. “You can’t move any further on this thing, can you?”

“Nope, I’m right at the edge. Maybe we should—” You want to suggest the bed since you both know that will be a secure place for what he’s planning to do, but he shushes you before you can speak.

“We can make this work,” he insists. “Hang on. Put this foot up— No, no, no, wait. I got it. Lie back.”

He proceeds to place you where he envisions it will be a decent spot. You lie down on the seat with your left side pressed against the pillows on the back, your left foot on it with your knee propped up. The other leg is still stretched in the cushion beneath you, but then he moves it upward and to the right, spreading you open. He’s still kneeling on the floor and slips his head underneath your right knee, so you sort of lay your thigh over his shoulders. You must look ridiculous from a distance, but the determined gaze in Tom’s eyes keeps that embarrassing thought at bay.

“This is so not gonna work…” you trail off. There’s no way you’re not putting too much weight on him, but if you lift your leg from where it’s resting on him, you will be all tense and you’ll feel nothing.

“Of course it will work,” he says with a kiss on the bottom of your belly. “Alright, here we go.”

His face is lined up with your middle but sideways, so when he sticks a thumb into you and sucks on your clit, it’s different but good and just as intense as before, and you let yourself enjoy it. You’re somewhat comfortable and he seems okay as well. The laps of his tongue and the fingertip he keeps buried at your entrance help you forget everything, first quietly, but soon bucking your hips up to meet him halfway.

At one point, you have to shift your back because there’s something weird pressed at the bottom, probably one of the pillows you forgot to remove, which means you move your leg to the side and your knee knocks against Tom’s head.

“No violence please,” he giggles into your cunt, angling his head in such a way that his tongue licks at the top of your hole while he slips a long finger in and out of you. He pumps it repeatedly for a little while, and at a particularly sharp brush on your spot, with his nose nudging your clit, the pressure builds inside you, your back arches, and your mouth fills with a moan.

There’s a little pleasure and a little pain, the odd position keeping things new and innovative. It’s not a traditional approach, Tom’s nose rubbing from side to side on your clit as he fucks into your hole, and it’s really good after you figure out how to distribute your weight and how to control your hips and your legs to avoid suffocating him. And once you get the hang of it, Tom and his miracle mouth get you really close to an orgasm, head spinning from it.

It’s when you try to grab his hair to press him against your core that things get a little complicated. Your hips lift up, your legs squeeze together around his neck, and Tom tugs on the right one to stay in position. And that’s the movement that gets you rolling to the floor again, as you crumble down onto your ass and with your legs still tight around his neck.

“What did I fucking say?” you yelp, rubbing the back of your thigh where it hurts a little from the fall.

“Sorry…” Tom sits up with his side against the window seat, rubbing his neck with a faint ‘ow’. And then he bursts out laughing.

“You…” you grunt, sitting up to rest your back against the bench. If you kick him in the process, it’s by accident but deserved.

“Okay, that fucking sucked,” he says through a few more laughs, getting up on his feet with a couple of groans as his legs refuse to stretch on the way. “C’mon, let’s regroup.”

“Are you kidding me?” you almost yelp, but accept his hand just the same.

When you get up on your feet, he says, “You asked me to blep your motherfucking pussy, y/n. It’s what I’m trying to do.”

“Ugh, no,” you scoff. “I mean, yes, I said that, but like, regular oral sex is awesome too. The bed would’ve been fine for that.”

Tom laughs at you again, smacking your butt and squeezing you there. You give him a side look, squinting eyes and pursed lips, the whole ordeal.

“C’monnn, baby,” he says with his lips puckered as if he’s about to lean into a kiss. You refuse him so, and he pecks your cheek instead. “What would be of us if it weren’t for this kind of fun stuff in the bedroom? It keeps things interesting.”

“Sure it does. It’s not your pretty ass on the fucking floor.”

“Hey,” he calls for you and holds you under the jaw, squeezing. “I’ve fallen plenty of times on my arse. Remember the wellies?”

You chuckle at the memory, one of so many moments where a minor slip-up could have ended up in a really big problem. You’ll never forget that day. Inevitably, with the amount of fluids the both of you produce during sex, things down there started slapping way too loud and he had the brilliant idea to say, “Maybe I should have brought my wellies.” Enough said, you laughed at his comment and shoved him to the side until you were on top, but he was just as cheeky and rolled you both over again until you were on your back, except his leg slipped off the mattress and he hit the floor and almost dislocated his shoulder. If you remember correctly, he was in pain for a couple of days after that.

“Yes, I remember the wellies,” you say with an eye-roll.

“Hell, one time you whacked me across the face with my belt.”

“Because you wanted me to use it like a whip!” you say, laughing into your hand at the memory. Tom doesn’t think it’s that funny. “All right, fine,” you add, refocusing on his pouty lips and kissing them back to normal. “But I’m getting on that bed right now.”

“Be my guest…”

As you do, standing by the foot of the bed with your hands on the mattress, ready to climb on it, Tom’s face suddenly appears between your legs.

“Hi.”

He’s sitting on the floor, though you have no idea how he got there so fast, with his back to the bed and his face to your middle.

“Nuh huh, I’m getting on this bed,” you warn him, ignoring his puppy dog eyes and his delightful grin.

“I don’t think you are, darlin’,” he threatens, leaving little kisses on your sex with each word.

You roll your eyes in response, but that’s all you can really do. After calling you ‘darling,’ Tom covers your hot nub with his mouth and starts to suck hard. Your head tilts forward between your shoulders from the immediate pleasure.

He holds your hips with both arms around your thighs and with his eyes on yours, he teases, “Tell me you don’t want me right here, my whole face shoved up your cunt. C’mon, say it…”

“Fuck you,” it’s what you say, bringing a hand to the back of his head and darting your hips forward until his awaiting mouth wraps around your whole pussy all at once.

His eyes are on you when he kisses your mound, sparkling while his hand caresses your inner thigh. You’re wet and his lips are hot, creating an incredible sense of fire straight to your nipples. They're really fucking hard and poke out of your top so much, you have to use a hand to soothe them. In the end, you stay there cradling your breast as the tip of his tongue teases between your folds, collecting beads of pre-cum where it’s been pooling up since this morning.

“Best bloody taste in the whole damn world,” he mutters before his teeth tug softly on your nether lips.

You’re about to say he’s too cheeky, but he dives tongue-first into your pussy. Nose brushing your clit in every direction it goes, sucking on the skin first, then scissoring it open with the help of two fingers to expose you to his hot breath. He looks at it for a second and sucks the little nub into his mouth, lightly using his teeth around it too. You hiss but moan at the same time, the mix of pain and pleasure absolutely divine, feeling your fluids trickle down to Tom’s chin.

Pulling away for a moany breath, Tom licks you a few more times, thumb grazing your clit alongside his nose. You’re throbbing down there, the idea of the bed forgotten by now, hips tipped downward to seek all the friction you can find. Tom splays his hands on your thighs, squeezing the flesh, to keep you in place as he drops kiss by kiss across your folds, up your mound, down to your legs, one at a time.

Without warning, his hand finds your hole and you push down onto it. Riding his fingers while he watches your face, but your eyes close at the sudden press against your spot.

“Fuck, Tom,” you whine, rolling your hips around and downward and in every direction that plunges his fingers further into you.

“You getting close, huh, pretty thing?” he chimes in a teasing tone, the smirk obvious against your so sensitive skin.

You grab his head and push him closer, knocking your clit against his nose by accident, but with a swift tilt of his head, he’s got two fingers stroking your spot and his lips around your swollen nub. Sucking and applying pressure, drawing pants from your chest, shivers up your spine, fluids out through every pore.

“Fuck,” he says at some point, pulling away. His breath scorching on your skin. “You’re dripping all over my shirt, baby.”

“Tom, I’m gonna come,” you warn him, fisting at the curve of his head. Your legs keep him hostage as his mouth suckles your clit and your folds and everywhere. His fingers deep in your cunt, in and out at a restless pace.

“Fuck, fuck,” you whine and almost shout, pushing your legs together. His hair is soft and tantalizing on your skin, searing everywhere like kindle. Your nails carved into his scalp. His fingers at the right spot, massaging it inside so fast you’re a bomb about to explode. Your clit is stuck between his lips as he sucks and licks and pulls until all you see is a bright light behind your eyes.

Your legs give out and you totally knock into his teeth, but Tom never stops. He sucks your orgasm out of you, fingering you to help ride it out. When your thighs stop shaking, you let go of his head because you’re about to collapse, pushing both hands on the mattress and looking down through hooded lids.

Watching as he licks your clit a couple of times, toying it with the very tip of his tongue. Teasing it downward to your hole. Circling around it, around his fingers, collecting drops of fluid where he finds them. He hums into your pussy, vibrations reverberating everywhere, all the way to your toes and traveling straight to your brain until your vision is restored.

When you can see again, you can’t stop the gasps and little moans that fall from your throat. Tom remains sitting between your legs, watching as you’re surely still clenching around him and dripping profusely.

One last peck to your clit, his eyes find yours and you can tell he’s smirking. From the glint in them, and from the shape of his jaw against your cunt. You know it so well by now, you can tell when he opens and closes his mouth around your folds, pulling on them between his lips to tease because that’s what he does best.

Then he dips his fingers inside and pulls out, over and over again, making you tremble with oversensitivity. Yet you seek nothing but his touch, hands curled around the bedding, feet adjusting on the ground because the soles are sweating so much.

“Tom,” you pant, knees almost buckling.

“I got you,” he says, his eyes on you just to test your reaction, you know this much, but there isn't much you can do. Not after such a fucking great orgasm.

You love coming on his mouth. He’s skilled and attentive, pressing in all the spots where you inadvertently lead him to. Applying pressure and letting go in perfect timing, keeping you at bay or stimulated just right. Fuck, he’s so goddamn good. Your legs are still trembling with it when he places a final kiss and emerges from where he’s sitting.

Tom pushes up between your body and the bed, and you move away so he will fit. Hands tight on his shoulders so you won’t collapse. Covering his mouth with yours when he’s close enough. Your arousal tastes delicious mixed with the spearmint that’s all him, spread all over the softness of his lips and on the tip of his tongue that you claim into your mouth.

It’s when you press closer to him that you notice how hard he is in his jeans. They’re unbuttoned like he needed to relieve the pressure at one point. His cock fills the v of his crotch completely, reacting with a twitch when you nudge a fingertip on the head.

“Want me to help you with this, baby?” you mumble into his mouth where he collects yours into a short kiss.

He nods into it, as expected, so you grab the hem of his briefs with both hands and tug them down until his cock springs out for attention. It’s leaking, red at the tip, and very, very stiff, twitching harder when you grasp a hand around the shaft. Tom moans as you start to pump immediately, feeling the flow of his blood in your palm. He probably won’t last long, so you waste no time. You sit him on the bed and lean over him, your breasts peeking out of your top at the level of his eyes, with your hand jacking him off at a fast speed.

It takes only a few pumps before he’s begging you to stop.

“Wait, wait, get the camera,” he says within a moan. You obey without a question. Grabbing the camera from where it’s propped on the windowsill next to your laptop, and disconnecting it from the cable. It’s turned on and ready to fire by the time you get to the bed.

“Where do you want me?”

“Oh, uhhhh…” he trails off, thinking about it, one hand squeezing his cock so it won’t end the party before it’s truly over. “Oh, I know. Sit on the edge of the bed and lie back?”

“Mhmm. I see where this is going,” you say, practically foaming at the mouth at the thought of him releasing his explosion of cum all over and around you.

Following his instructions, you sit on the edge of the mattress and lie back, the camera propped just under your breasts and pointed at his middle. He’s standing in front of you, between your spread legs, and you need only a minimal adjustment of the lens until it’s perfectly centered on his leaking, neglected dick.

“Photos or video?”

“Video,” he says, grabbing a hold of himself and starting to pump. “We can, fuck— we can screenshot it later. Fuck, ‘m not gonna last at all.”

His fist jacks his cock expertly, twisting and pumping and thumbing at the head in regular intervals, and his hips keep jabbing forward as his moans start to garble in his throat. You send him little incentives to help him release, but it takes less than a minute before he’s all curled in on himself. Gasping and making these small noises like he can’t hold them back. His hand grasps your thigh and props it up, with your foot on the mattress. You reach out for his hand there, squeezing it under yours, and watch him surrender, so giving and pretty.

At the raise in tension in the air, you sit up and hold your weight on your elbows, watching him closely.

“Tell me,” you say, licking your lips at the beautiful sight of Tom thrusting his cock into his hand rather than the opposite. “Tell me when you’re there, okay? Wanna record this from a different angle.”

Right now, you have the camera pointed at his face, zoomed out enough that you can see the shift of his muscles under the tight shirt and the clench of his jaw from his wide open mouth.

“Please— fuck—” he moans and curses all around you, leaning his head forward until he meets your forehead. You’re both sweaty from the effort, but you let him be and angle the camera downward so you have a full view of his cock where it’s pressed just under your clit. His dick is swollen and just on the verge of busting out. You focus on the little screen to make sure it’s centered on the right spot.

It is, so you glance back at him and lick your lips at the sight of his tongue peeking at the corner of his mouth now, before he draws it back inside to moan really fucking loud and bend over you again. One, two, three strokes of his fist and he spritzes all over you, jerking back and forward on his little legs, his upper body shaking. His hand never stops moving on his cock as it spills mostly on your mound. Some of it gets on his clothes and your legs and his face, on your mouth a little too, a few drops hitting the lens making it blurry and wet.

As for Tom, he looks like his brain has sparked out, hips jerking forward a few more times before his body slumps and falls on the bed next to you. You smile at his satiated expression and film everything that you can. The cum between your legs, his spent dick still clutched in his fist, the up and down heave of his chest and that gorgeous fucking smile on his face when the camera catches his eye.

“You got everything?”

You nod. “Mhmm, you’re gonna love this one.”

Tom lies there on the bed with his arms spread open, clothes still on except around his crotch, a hand caressing your naked bum where it’s dipping down the mattress. You don’t move otherwise, clicking the button to stop the recording and putting the camera down in the middle of the bed.

With a single glance at your middle, you can tell that Tom got most of his cum on you this time. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of damage in your surroundings today. That’s awesome. It’s what he wanted to do and despite the odds being against it from his history of exploding cum all over the freaking place, he’s managed to coat your pussy in the majority of it.

You want to take a picture of it, want to see how it really looks from his point of view, but you don’t dare grab the camera again. Instead, you place a hand on his belly and ask, “You all right?”

“Fucking brilliant.” He grins wide. His breathing has slowed down by now, cock deflating on his lap, and he tucks himself into his briefs before he sits up next to you.

He smiles and kisses your mouth and says, “Look at you, not a single drop of cum on your face. What a day.”

You laugh at him, but show him an approving smile. “I got a little on my mouth, but I licked it clean. Other than that, most of it is right… there,” you say, pointing at your crotch.

“Oh I know,” he says sprightly, getting up from the bed next. “Let me take a picture of this, I bet it’s fucking gorgeous.”

With a giggle because you’d just had the same thought, you hand him over the camera and wait for him to take a couple of pictures. He insists on taking a few of you in different poses, all of them with your legs open and his seed proudly sitting in between, but after a while you tell him to stop so you can clean up.

“Oh no no no,” he says immediately, setting the camera back on the bed without turning it off. “I’m going to take care of that.”

“Oh really?” you ask, but it’s to no avail because he’s already kneeling between your legs and holding them apart by your thighs.

“I’m calling it, it’s Pussy Lickin’ Weekend, baby.”

You fetch the camera again, beaming at the wonderful idea he’s just had.

He grins at you when you point the lens at him, but wastes no more time to reach out and get it done. Your thumb presses record right as he starts to tease you in all the places where it tingles, even though you believe you won’t have much of a response. Nonetheless, Tom still has a broad smirk on his face as he licks you clean with his twinkling eyes on yours. You caress his hair in return and focus, breathing calmly through the bliss that is his smooth touch.

“‘ove this pussy,” he mumbles against your still hot and very wet skin. You tilt your head at him, laying back on your elbows and propping both feet on the bed so he’ll have more access. His face still centered in the image on the little screen of the camera. “It’s so pretty,” he keeps saying, with tiny licks between his words. “And juicy. Mmm, delicious. Finger-licking good.” At this word, he wiggles his eyebrows from where he’s looking at you and pretends to lick his thumb, pressing it into your hole right after.

“Stop…”

“I’m not going to, don’t worry,” he tranquilizes you. “Wish you could taste this, though.” Before you can stop him, he presses the pad of his tongue against your clit and hums into it. The sensation travels across your body and up to your head way faster than you expected it to.

He pulls away completely after that, however. Taking the camera off your hands and turning it off, he says, “C’mon, let’s get into the shower. Then I want to check if you’d be any good at directing porn.”

You chuckle and place your hand on the one he offers to you, palm up. Your fingers enlace almost immediately with his.

After a much deserved though quick shower, you run downstairs because you’re starving. For food, this time. Your sexual hunger is satisfied for now at least. That was a good one. Like, really good. Despite the accidents and the hysterical laughter, Tom makes a pretty amazing lover and you can’t believe how lucky you were to have fallen for him. It took a while, and it was really freaking complicated, but things worked out for the best. Six months into a proper relationship —because unlike Tom, you do not count the time you spent fooling around with him and fooling yourself— and no sign of regret just yet.

The rest of the boys don’t seem to be home when you get your salad from the fridge, chilling outside on the porch under the warm London sun. With sunglasses on, feet propped up on the sunbed too, you dive into the colorful bowl in your hands.

It’s empty as is the bottle of water on the floor by the time Tom comes find you out here. He’s now in a pair of comfortable shorts and a loose t-shirt, making you feel underdressed in short shorts and a tank top.

“Oh, hey, there you are, look at this,” he says all excited, crouching by the sunbed and practically shoving the camera in your face. You slide your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose and look at the screen. He’s showing you a portion of the video you recorded earlier in the bedroom, a clear up-close shot of his dick covering your skin with white liquid of bliss. “Look how beautiful it is.”

“Uh, no?” you say with a giggle, putting the sunglasses back on your face. “I would make a darn good porn director, I guess, but that’s all.”

“What? C’mon…” he trails off, and from the sound of it, he’s replaying the same section of the video. Perhaps he cut it somehow— no, that can’t be it. He’s not that tech savvy with this new camera yet, you think. “I mean, I’m going to delete it, but fuck me I could watch this every day, I swear. Look at the curve of your—”

“You don’t have to delete it,” you tell him in a calm tone. He looks at you surprised, but you don’t get why. After all, you were the one who wanted to start filming yourselves in bed. Close-ups like this are a little strange because you can see everything good but also every flaw, but technically they are better because there’s no risk of identifying either of you.

“Right,” he chuckles, looking down at the screen and rewatching it again. “If only. You know if I keep this, someone else will see it. It’s my curse. Me and tech, yeah, we no match.”

“I guess, but still. I could save it for you.” You smile genuinely. His whole face lights up at the thought. “For a rainy day.”

“For a rainy day.” He hums as though he’s considering it.

“Yeah. Like,” you sniffle dryly. “I don’t think I ever told this, but I have my own rainy day folder. Personal, private, encrypted, everything you could ask for, so.”

“Really?” he chuckles. “Pics of me?”

“No. Michael B. Jordan and your mate Chris Evans, of course.”

“Right.” He chuckles. “Of course.” When you roll your eyes in response, his grin lights up his face. He’s too damn smug for his own good sometimes. “Anyway. I could actually keep this?”

“Absolutely. As long as that disk never leaves the house,” Tom ‘mhmm’s as he listens to your instructions, “and you don’t accidentally use it for something else, we’re fine.”

“That’s brilliant!” He grins so fucking wide, the sun reflects indirectly on his teeth. You laugh at his childish enthusiasm, leaning backwards when he presses a kiss onto your mouth until you’re lying down on the sunbed. “Thank you, thank you, thankyou…” he says on repeat.

“You’re welcome. Now get off me before you get any ideas.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Oh boy. You’re screwed. “Ideas have already been had. Did you see the note on the fridge?”

“Mhmm…”

The fridge in the kitchen includes a white board with a couple of markers of different colors and tons of magnetic emojis that every occupant of the house uses for notes and reminders and other shenanigans. It’s easily spotted because it’s big and colorful, and it’s right there when you enter the kitchen. So it was very hard to miss when you came downstairs earlier. The note was signed HH and included a row of disgusted-looking emojis and a very clear message in capital letters.

😒🤬🤢🤮😷

BE DECENT BY 7 YOU PIGS!!! we’ll bring dinner

“Do you think they saw us?”

“On the window?” You nod in response to his question. “Nah, I mean, why would they? They knew we were up there, they heard what I said before we went upstairs. They would have to be very dumb to even dare to look at the upper floor windows.”

You giggle, of course. He makes a very solid point. “I suppose you’re right. Can I interest you in some food, putting on some music and enjoying the rare London sun while we’re out here?”

It takes a while before Tom and you agree on the details, but eventually you both lie down in a couple of the sunbeds on the back porch, one of your phones blasting soft music into the air as he holds a new script he has to analyze for work and you, a book. You thought you could get the laptop down here and do a little research for your channel, but screw it. You have enough material for your next three weeks of posts, so you can lay back and chill. In the actual sense of the word. Not the ‘other’ kind. All in all, it’s a peaceful afternoon.

At least until Tom huffs out loud and throws the script onto the floor, saying, “Uff. This is rubbish. Wanna fuck?”

You give him a look over the rim of your sunglasses. “You’re freaking nuts.”

“Why not?!” he whines, sitting on the edge of the sunbed, turned to you. He uses big gestures for no reason as he adds, “Listen, I’m here. You’re there—looking positively fuckable in those shorts by the way—”

“You say that about pretty much every piece of clothing I wear—”

“Because I’m a good boyfriend!” he argues. You don’t disagree with the logic, but you do a bit with the method and the reasoning, so you roll your eyes and continue pretending you’re reading your book and not listening to whatever he’s going to say next. “The boys are gone and we don’t know when they’ll be back—”

“They said seven.”

“So that gives us… an hour to do this. I always wanted to try this…”

When you glance at him, he’s looking out into the green ahead of you. “Nuh huh, not the garden.”

“But it’s perfect! And,” he pauses, clearing his throat, waiting until you drop your book open on your lap with both hands holding each side of it to continue. “Who knows when all of them will be gone again, not to mention that I’m leaving again. Next week. For another three weeks, baby.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell its only purpose is to add a dramatic tone to when he says, “Three. Weeks. Without me again. Oh, and of course— how could I fucking forget— it’s Pussy Lickin’ Weekend, baby. So let me lick your bloody gorgeous pussy, will ya?”

“All right, fine. You, um, you make a fine point there. About you leaving. This last month was un-bear-able,” you say with a huff. You sit up as well, a finger marking the page you were reading. “Okay. I’m in.” His grin grows impossibly wider. “What were you thinking? That big rock by the shed…?”

You take a look at the garden and that rock has always puzzled you. It sort of looks like a seat of some kind, but you figure it was accidental more than anything because of the way it was put up out there on the grass. Tom confirms it was a happy coincidence.

“As soon as I saw it though, mmmm,” he hums with his lip between his teeth. “As soon as I saw it, I knew I’d have to spread you open on it one day. Might as well be today.”

“Might as well be right now,” you agree with a sly smirk. Tom gets up immediately, making you struggle for the book so you can use your marker to know where you stopped later. He’s too antsy, though, and too handsy, nothing to complain about, but he does end up tickling you and you threaten him, “Oy! You tickle, the clothes stay on.”

He grins at you and says, “I can work with that.”

When he tries to grab your butt or your shorts or something in that area, you flinch to the side and escape his touch, saying, “I’ll get one of the big towels from the bathroom. You go over there and get in position.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It takes you a while to find a decent towel to drape over the rock. All the towels are pretty new which would be a waste, but you’re ninety percent sure that there are still quite a few that you brought from the flat. You find them right at the back of the cupboard, fetching one with a strong pull of your arm.

As you return outside, Tom seems to be waiting out there in the garden. Shirtless, now, the top button of his shorts undone.

“You started without me, I can tell.”

“Not really,” he shrugs, grabbing one of your hands and pulling you into him. “Just don’t want to have to think about it while we’re, y’know. Getting frisky, and things get a little tight down there.”

You kiss his pliant mouth and melt into his arms, either from the warm sun or simply from the hot touch of his palms under your top. The sizzle on your skin, burning your nipples when he cradles both of your breasts, kneading them for a little while as his tongue descends deep into your mouth.

You’re now both standing by the big rock he was talking about. He has mentioned it before, this was a debate you’ve already had out of curiosity during a to fuck or not to fuck sort of game as you discussed which parts of the house would be off limits. You just never thought you’d end up here, mostly because there’s always someone else in the house. Must be his lucky day, then. No one’s home and you’re both in the mood to fuck.

This is going to be quite ridiculous again and a totally impossible position because the rock isn’t leveled. It does look like a chair when you look in a certain angle, but from up close the ‘seat’ is all tilted and you fear you might just topple over if you sit over there and your reflexes are too busy with sex to follow through and keep you up. You just know someone’s back is going to get fucked in a bad way if you have sex on it, probably yours because riding Tom on this block of stone would be a hazard; you’d have to lean forward way too much and that would make it impossible to move over his lap. Although if you suggest it to him, you’re positive he’ll be more than glad to try. He’s the one who always says that laughter is sexy. You agree, it is, especially his —his eyes get all crinkly and you swear you fall in love with him a bit more every time you notice them—, but you don’t mind the uneventful, quiet sex you sometimes have up there in your room.

Nevertheless, Tom looks so giddy about this as he peels off your shorts and your knickers with hands that are shaking in his excitement. The music is still playing in the background, and he’s swaying his hips to the beat, humming the lyrics to himself, his tongue peeking at the corner again. It’s adorable and sexy and he’s beautiful all over, still glowing from this morning’s shenanigans and from the hours in the sun. His skin all soft and smelling good, his muscles on display on his torso, so yeah, of course you wouldn’t say no to this. He’s still very much irresistible. The months of your relationship and the quirks and habits you both picked up since turning official haven’t changed a single thing.

He starts by crouching in front of you to kiss your thighs, one then the other, then the inside of them, slowly making his way up in between them. You’re not in the right mood yet, but all it takes is a few tweaks of his fingers, a couple of licks, and your brain swoons, your gut churns, your legs squeeze at the way he caresses every inch of you like you were made to be blessed by his touch and nobody else’s.

Soon after he crawls back up to your chest, sucks on a nipple through your top, tugging at the fabric until your whole breast pops out. The way he licks the hardening bud is impressive, forcing you to close your eyes and cradle the back of his head, nuzzling his face into your warm skin until he starts sucking and you get a little wet from the obscene laps of his tongue. Tom gives it a tentative bite, not hurting at all, more like grazing his teeth around the areola.

“So hot,” you tell him with a hiss, sucking on your bottom lip. Tom’s mouth pops out with a smack and he gazes up with his warm little eyes glistening from the daylight and his overall glee.

“Can I remove this too?” he asks politely, tugging on the fabric. For a second, you consider it and slowly pluck your other breast out of your top. It stays there all rolled up under your chest, but it feels too exposing. Too vulnerable. Especially because he won’t be removing any more clothes.

His gaze is transfixed by the sight of your boobs as he cradles them both, leaning a bit to lick at the nipples, one then the other, repeatedly until you moan. Your back arches into his soft touch. However there’s a shout from someone else’s garden, and the idea of being fully naked is suddenly terrifying, so you cover up again.

Tom nods in understanding. He then drapes kiss after kiss on his way to your mouth, raising goosebumps in his wake. Before he kisses you, even though your head tilts forward seeking his lips, he plucks the towel from your hands and sets it over the rock, then sits you on it and kneels in front of you, holding your knees together for now. He asks, “Mouth only or with fingers?”

You hum into his soft ways and say, “Mmm, mouth only.”

He widens his eyes at you. “Surprised you don’t want my fingers.”

“Maybe the next weekend you stay home we can host yet another fingering marathon,” you suggest, spreading your legs open so he’ll fit in between. He slides closer immediately, tongue prying your mouth open as his hands lift your thighs up to rest them on his shoulders.

“You good?” he asks with his eyes on you, then flicking them downward to your center.

“Will you just eat it already?”

Tom doesn’t answer anymore. He gives you kitten licks on your thighs, fingers dribbling in the same spots right after where your skin is all tingly and sensitive after his touch. Holding your thighs against the sides of his head, he kisses your navel, your lower belly, your mound and that spot right over your clit, leaving you shivering from the closeness. His hands never leave your legs as he kisses and dabs and sucks on your lips and clit and everywhere around, not only getting you wet, but making you moan his name in the middle of the garden like this.

It’s like your body switches on whenever he touches you, that’s not unusual, but it’s strange when there isn’t the comfort of walls or a bed or the fact that you should be able to see his face, but you can’t. You can’t because your legs are in the way, and your hands are the only thing holding you upright on this motherfucking rock that did not seem this rounded and slippery every time you studied it and considered this very moment from the porch.

“Fuck, more tongue,” you ask of Tom, and he seems to nod and give it to you. Only the tip at first, but soon he laps at your slit and presses the whole pad of his tongue into you and something clicks in your brain.

All the muscles in your thighs are tight, sweaty where his shoulders are pressed on the underside to keep you in place. His head swings back and forth, from side to side, in every fucking direction, darting shots of pleasure with it. When you look down to try and see something, you get a glimpse of Tom’s lips wrapping around your clit, and when the suction starts getting stronger and stronger, you take a deep breath and hold it in, your head tilted all the way back, neck dampening with sweat.

There’s a nip of his teeth right on your clit, and another on your swollen lips, Tom smoothing the two spots with a wet lick from the top down, thrusting into your hole next. You feel it everywhere, from the crook of your knees to your brain that’s swimming around in bliss, and you choke on your own spit as he fucks in and out of you with deliberate jabs of his tongue. Your pussy clenches around him, and your hands squeeze around the towel, nails nearly breaking on the hard rock beneath you, and you totally swear at him and curse him for being so damn fucking good. “Oh, fuck, yes, that, there, more, fuck fuck fuck.”

Your hips buck up against your will and you can tell your butt slides down at least a few inches, but Tom catches you with his strong hands and his massive shoulders, and he holds up your weight like a fucking champion as you shake and lose track of time and location, only thinking of the sparks of pleasure shooting off of your cunt and setting your body alight like a lightning storm.

It pulses through you, the further Tom sticks his tongue inside you the stronger it gets, and then his hands— fuck, his nails dig into the flesh of your thighs and he presses his whole face against your core, slurping up your wetness and sucking on your lips and wherever else he can reach, you can’t even name all the body parts you have down there. Your stomach coils around the feeling, legs starting to shake in his grasp, and your high rolls through your entire fucking body in these waves that are completely different from when you come from his fingers.

“Please don’t fucking stop, that’s so gooood,” you whine and moan and cry, trying your best not to fall off the rock when you move a hand to yank his hair and pull his face further against where he’s rubbing it on you and slathering it with all your cum.

Tom pushes up with his shoulders and dives right back in, using more of his nose than his tongue, but it’s still so intense and good and you want this feeling to last forever. Your hand slips and you can’t move the other fast enough from his head, but thankfully you only end up lying back on the hard surface. Your back all curled backwards in an impossible angle, your legs the only muscles keeping you upright as the blood rushes to your head where it’s hanging off the side of the rock.

You think this is it, you’re about to drop to the floor yet again, but Tom seems to catch you just in time. He gasps away from your core and expertly twists you where you’re laying, so you end up on your front on the rock. There’s just enough room beneath your legs that you can press the knees on the floor and shove your hips back.

Except where you hope to meet Tom’s face, there’s a big nothing.

“Don’t stop now,” you demand or beg or plead. All you know is that your brain is burning for a second round, knees weak from the thought.

“Fuck, sorry,” he says, letting you fist at his hair and press his face against your buttcheek. Then he says, “Was checking— fuck, it’s so close to seven.”

“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” you cry around the empty void of discontempt growing in your belly.

Immediately, he buries his face between your cheeks, kneading them tight in his hands, his tongue lapping quickly at the clenched hole. He sucks your skin and down to your clit, the wet noises mixed with your desperate moans and his eager throaty tips of encouragement. Nose nudging at your entrance and making it so unexpectedly good, Tom rubs himself all over your cunt, and you push back and forth riding his face and his tongue. And in less than a minute, you’re shouting and shuddering and coming all over again.

“That’s it, gimme it, baby,” he moans against your sex, biting into your ass before he dives back in and collects every single drop of fluid that drips out of you.

It takes a while to recover from that. A double orgasm with so little time in between is rare, so it’s not a surprise that when Tom helps you get back on your feet, your legs are totally wobbly and he’s got a motherfucking smug grin on his face.

“Came twice, uh?” he goads before he kisses you and shoves the taste of your cunt into your mouth.

“Best weekend ever.”

Tom laughs into the next kiss, gobbling up all of your mouth with a moan as you slip a hand into his briefs. You grasp his cock and he leans into you, his jaw all shiny from your fluids. He’s blocking you from crouching in front of him and takes a look down at his watch instead.

You see it, too. Less than five minutes to seven.

“Fuck,” he curses, ramming his cock into your fist, but hissing and pulling away next. “We can’t fucking do this here.”

“If not here, then when,” you rush to say. A glance over your shoulder shows you that the boys don’t seem to be back at the house yet.

“Tonight, I don’t know, but not now,” he says, grabbing your wrist. He moves it away and tucks himself into his clothes before he picks up your shorts from the floor. You’re already fetching your knickers and putting them on.

“Okay, okay, I got it, but I’m licking you later, then.” You grin, both hands in the air. “No hands.”

Tom chuckles but nods, looking around to check what’s left to do. You have to move fast before you get caught out here in a hot state of undress. Still you grin at Tom as he fetches the towel and balls it up under his arm, grabbing your hand and walking you into the house as naturally as possible.

As you step into the kitchen, Harry comes into the room with a bag in his hands, which he drops on the dining table with an excessively loud noise. “We heard that, too.”

Behind him, Harrison shouts, “We said seven.”

Of course you have to punch Tom’s shoulder when he laughs.

After the comfort of a homely dinner with friends that refuse to look you in the eye, you sit on the couch with the first batch of beers of the night for a short cinema session. Harrison picked the film, a comedy you believe. You sit there holding a bottle and looking at your feet, thinking back to today’s wet adventure. Legs and brain liquified from Tom’s hot words and erotic actions and from that sinfully skillful tongue of his. Speaking of, he sits next to you and grabs a beer for himself, splaying his arm over the back of the couch in that way he has of wrapping it around you without really touching you. You cozy up to him and smile at his domesticity. It is just as infatuating as anything else he does.

Except Harrison kicks his ankle lightly and tells him to move to the end of the couch. Tom rolls his eyes particularly hard when his brother Harry stands in front of you as well.

“You spent the whole day together, fuck knows what—” Harry gulps down his words as though he’s disgusted. “Anyway. We go in the middle, ‘kay?”

“So dramatic…” Tom trails off.

“I’m okay with that,” you say brightly, squeezing your hip against your end of the couch. Tom sends you a peeved look at your answer, but Harrison sits next to you and his annoyance fades from sight.

Sam and Tuwaine join in a little later, having come home in the middle of dinner. They stare at Harrison and you, Sam points at Tom inquisitively but they don’t ask questions. They only laugh at what they’re seeing. You reckon they’ve heard the lewd and totally incorrect version of the facts from the Harries or perhaps only a repulsed Harrison —who by the way, grabbed the green disgusted emoji from the fridge door and pretended to glue it to your forehead, doing the same to Tom with the vomiting emoji. It was a whole skit after dinner, making you laugh and ‘pin’ the huffing emoji to his tank top.

The movie you’re watching happens to have a non-explicit sex scene. You were familiar with this title, so you knew it was coming eventually, and try to sneak a glance at Tom who’s literally on the other end of the couch. His arm is splayed over the back of the couch even though you’re not there, the other one holding a beer that he sips every now and then. Looking over the back of the Harries’ heads, you stretch your own arm and grab his hand, trickling your fingers over the back. Tom catches your eye next and grins around the bottle he’s drinking from, wiggling his eyebrows when you gesture with your head towards the screen where the characters are prepping their own funny perversion on an office desk.

Out of nowhere, the characters’ voices become all distorted and when you check what’s happening, Harry has the remote in his hand and is fast forwarding the scene. “We get enough of this, thanks very much.”

Tom spits his beer all over his shirt and starts cackling at his brother. You’re amused by Harry’s exaggerated act as well, but you make sure to kick Tom’s shin when you pass by him to grab another round from the kitchen. He swats at your ass in return.

After the movie, the boys want to hang out on the back porch. It’s a lovely spring night, not too cold, not too warm, so you bring them a couple of beers each and excuse yourself to the bathroom. The plan is to distract them. There’s a little something you have to do before you join them. You set it in motion as soon as you close the bathroom door, pulling out your phone to text Tom.

You: Downstairs bathroom, tell them you’re making snacks 🍆>😮

You expect him to take a couple of minutes, so you shove your top down to the middle of your belly and lean against the counter, waiting for his knock. There isn’t one. Tom bursts in through the door with his hands unzipping his shorts in a rush.

At the sight of you opening your mouth to speak, he says, “Shut up.”

Obedient, you reel him closer by his t-shirt and immediately sneak a hand into his clothes, grabbing a hold of his cock and rubbing it to make it hard. His mouth clashes onto yours in a frantic kiss, his hips helping the motions and his dick growing larger and thicker with every stroke. He sucks on your tits for a little while, lathering them up in spit, warm from his moans.

The next moments are quick as fuck. Your brain barely registers them, but you are in control. You yank Tom away from your chest by the hair, keeping him at bay with both arms when he tries to kiss you again, then shove him around until his back bangs against the counter with a muffled sound.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he moans when you drop to your knees. You think he says something right after, but it’s all a strangled moan because you swallow his cock in full right away.

You drag him forward into your throat, quick and messy and hopefully everything he was thinking about earlier in the garden. Bobbing your head over the length, applying suction on every move, you squeeze and swirl a hand around the base and massage his sack with the other.

“No hands—” he reminds you, completely breathless. That had been the deal, so you put both arms on your back, one hand clasped around the other wrist.

Above you, Tom keeps making delicious, garbled moans, way too fucking loud, and when you look up, he’s bracing himself on the crown of your head, his mouth open and wet, just watching as you suck his cock. It takes him less than two minutes of that before he starts cursing filthy fucking words, totally coherent out of nowhere.

“Sweet little mouth, take my fucking cock, swallow, fuck, fuck, that’s fucking right,” and many, many more words that burn in your ears and leave you wet on the bathroom floor.

After that, hips rutting against your face to meet you halfway because you never stop bobbing your head, licking it and swallowing it and unable to take it but taking it all just the same. With his hand fisted around your hair and his cock swelling larger, your lips panging from the stretch. Choking you when the tip hits the back of your throat. It’s too much but it’s just right, and as soon as he sucks in a breath over you, you slap your hands on your thighs and stretch your mouth open as far as it fucking goes.

“Filthy kitten desperate to eat my cum, holy, holy, fucking fuck, I’m gonna come,” Tom says in a rush, the words all mumbled together. His hips jab forward and back, and your head follows the move until he’s nestled completely in your mouth. When you suck and swallow, the taste of hot spunk fills your mouth and he comes, jerking all over the place.

You use little bobs of your head to devour every single drop. He tastes like heaven right now, and it’s all from the knowledge that it was you doing this to him. You look up and moan at the sight, his eyes closed, sweaty lashes fanned out over his cheeks, his mouth crooked and wet from spit where he’s biting into his lip. You love that look on his face, love putting that look on his face. He looks fucking beautiful and blissed out.

“I am so paying you back for that.”

“Do you think we have too much sex?”

Your question makes Tom turn to you very, very slowly, a hand holding his toothbrush where it’s hanging off his mouth.

You’re both in your shared ensuite bathroom, getting ready for bed. Tom is wearing his joggers, you in shorts and a spaghetti strap top you’ve been using to sleep during the warmer nights. He doesn’t say anything yet, but after you inspect his frowning gaze in the mirror and he spits into the sink, he shrugs and says, “I know my brothers do.” Next he goes back to brushing his teeth, like he hadn’t just said that.

A stupid answer to a stupid question, you think. You laugh nonetheless. He makes a fair point.

“We don’t, right?” you insist, going back to your night routine.

“I don’t think so, I mean,” he wipes his face with a towel and stands there, all ready for bed. “I’m not home for about half the year, so it makes sense that when I am… y’know.”

“Yeah.”

That’s what you thought as well, but you have been wondering about the other side of the picture. You do have roommates, and you’re all going to have partners at some point, so it would make sense to dial it down a little and keep things private. The reputation of the house is bad enough from how many occupants it has. Five dudes and you, that would raise some relevant questions.

“No, you’re right. I was just, um, y’know, just asking.”

“Don’t listen to Harry, it’s not like we haven’t seen his bum… or worse in my case, am I right?” Tom points out with a smack of his lips.

Again, he makes a fair point.

On your way out of the bathroom in silence, Tom walks ahead and opens the bedding for you, as per usual. Even in bed he’s a gentleman, that’s so freaking unnerving. He’s too good. Why wouldn’t you have sex so regularly with him? Ugh.

“Did you have a good Pussy Lickin’ Weekend, baby?” you ask him, honestly curious. You don’t want to start anything, hopefully the fact that you’re lying in bed and pulling the covers over you will tell him just so.

“It’s only Saturday night, darlin’,” he replies with a giggle, wiggling his eyebrows. He’s only just draping his first leg under the bedding, but he immediately crawls to the middle of the bed, making grabby hands at you.

“Oh but you’re done,” you tell him rather firmly.

He laughs and tugs you into his embrace, spreading silly little kisses all over your face. When he rolls onto his back, pulling you over him, he smiles his flirtatious smile and says, “That’s what you think.”

“God…” you almost whine, rolling your eyes half in exasperation at his neverending libido, half in delight at his suggestion. A boyfriend who never gets tired of sexing you up, that’s a first.

“It’s Tom, actually.”

You caress his cheek and down to his shoulder, tracing the top and his clavicle with a finger right after. When you look back up, he’s got his tongue peeking at the corner of his mouth.

“Blep,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him, very briefly, like a cat would. Like his kitten would. Curious like one, you ask, “Not thinking about golf, are you?”

“Not at all…”

His reaction is endearing as fuck. He’s still got that stupid beautiful smile teasing at his lips, then he licks them slowly before he licks yours, craning his neck further to collect your mouth into a proper kiss. You chuckle and hum and melt into it by instinct, slithering your tongue inside to harvest the very obvious taste of spearmint from the back of his teeth.

“Okay,” you say when you pull back, chest panting a little from the kiss. Tom’s face is swarming with desire and a cheeky silent proposal. You tilt your head at him and ignore the tongue that keeps teasing you from the corner of his mouth, then say, “I think we’re done for the night, champ.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he protests with a grunt, spreading his legs. You fall in the middle, and between the position and his tight grasp around your waist, it wouldn’t be easy to roll away from this spot. Not that you want to, it’s cozy and comfortable, his body welcoming and warm in a domestic way.

“Don’t listen to those guys, they love it.”

“They what?” You frown.

“They love it… for me, that’s what I meant,” he says with a little laugh.

“Mhmm, sure.”

Tom’s face is lit up in his bliss, either from his usual perkiness, or from the many orgasms he’s managed to literally suck out of you today. And the one you sucked out of him. He pecks and growls into your neck, rolling you over until you lie on your back, on your side of the bed. You spread your legs for him now, letting him rest there. Just him, no second intentions. Except he asks, “Ready for your night class with your expert cunnilinguist?”

“My what?” you giggle. You understand what he’s saying, familiar with the expression he’s trying to invoke here, but he modified it in a way you’d never heard before. “Where’d you learn that word?”

“I dunno,” he says, muffled by your neck where he’s licking you. “Somewhere.” He drops another lick, now much closer to your shoulder, dragging the tip of his tongue down the side of the strap resting on your skin. “Does it matter?”

When he starts kissing further down and tugging on the fabric to expose your breast, you rest a hand on the nape of his neck. You want to tell him to stop, but his mouth is so hot when he wraps it around your nipple, and his tongue is so wet when he licks the little nub up and down, several times in a row, hardening it even though your mind is empty of naughty thoughts. So you embrace it for a little while, popping out your other breast and guiding his face to it so he’ll tend to both sides of your chest.

Yet the second his fingers dribble over the hem of your sleeping shorts, you force your eyes open and pat the top of his head.

“Tom, I meant it,” you hum, back arching up after he stops licking your chest. “Fuck. Sorry, but, um, I really think we’re done for the night.”

The truth is that you’re a little sore. You know he’ll understand, so you’d rather stop him early before he thinks you’re trapping him into sex and then pulling back at the last minute. Understanding, Tom sits up on his knees between your legs and pulls on the hem of your shorts, slapping them back against your hips.

“But the weekend isn’t over yet,” he pouts, puppy dog eyes and everything. “And it’s Pussy Lickin’ Weekend, baby, it’s a big deal,” he reminds you with a smirk. It’s the same expression he’s been saying to you all day, but in a completely different tone. He’s all pitiful and supplicant now, but when you shove his face away with your palm over it, he laughs.

“Mhmm, but sadly this pussy hurts, so no licking for you, champ.”

“Well, you know what?” He grins. His hands rest on the outer sides of your hips now, thumb rubbing the skin between the two pieces of clothing you’re wearing. In return, you caress his bicep a couple of times, moving your hand down to grasp his. He uses that to tug on your arm hard enough that you slide off the mattress with a laugh, eventually following his silent instruction and sitting up to stay at the level of his face.

“I think I could kiss it all better, kitten,” he purrs, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. “Call me Dr. Holland, if you will.”

“Dr. Holland, expert in—”

“Cunnilinguist,” he finishes the sentence for you. You giggle at his cheeky expression. “It’s cunnilinguist, darlin’.”

“Anyway, doctor,” you say with a shake of your head. “My back hurts too. From that rock in the garden you so badly wanted to fuck me on, remember?” He nods, the most pleased and proud expression on his face. You kiss it away, just so you won’t have to look at it anymore. “And I don’t think you can heal that with a tongue, so…”

“Is that a challenge?”

You giggle at him and say, “No.”

Tom grins in response and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you back down and rolling just enough that you’re both lying down on the bed. “It was hot, though. Tell me it wasn’t hot.”

“It wasn’t hot.”

He gasps. “Excuse me?!”

“You asked me to tell you that!” you laugh, shoving him away when he threatens to tickle your sides. “Get the fuck off me, or I’ll call Harry.”

“Which one of them?” he teases back jokingly, tickling you anyway. You almost kick him in the face to avoid his touch.

With an eye-roll, and still reeling him in by the shoulders for a hug, you peck his mouth a couple of times, sort of as an apology for what you said. It was a joke, because he did ask you to say it wasn’t hot, of course, so you settle back down and say, “Yes, it was very hot.”

“Fucking knew it.” He grins up at you, hand softly resting on the small of your back as you cuddle up to him.

“If you couldn’t tell from the double orgasm…” you add. “Will you let me sleep now?”

You expect an answer from him since he has stopped making advances, always respectful when you say no, the same way you are when he happens to not be in the mood. Still, he responds with another question, “Can I wake you up with my tongue?”

You roll your eyes at his suggestion, but the idea isn’t that bad. You can’t imagine anything better than his hot, wet, skilled, perfect tongue licking you awake.

“I love Pussy Lickin’ Weekend, baby.”

~ ⛳️ ~

fantasyverse masterpost « · » main masterlist

final note » this is it, the end of the fantasyverse. thank you for all your support and kind words

#fantasyverse #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #holland #b writes

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corpsekiller · 3 years ago

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✝ 𝖧𝖤𝖠𝖵𝖤𝖭 𝖨𝖭 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖤𝖸𝖤𝖲 — 𝖳.𝖲𝖧𝖤𝖫𝖡𝖸

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. thomas shelby x fem!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. tooth rotting fluff

MASTERLIST

Mornings like this are a rare gift you learned to treasure for the rest of your life. It’s the moment of silence you experience in the middle of chaos, gang wars and cruel death as you watch Tommy sleep soundly next to you, naked legs tangled in his sheets and strong arms lazily draped over your stomach to hold you close, even in his dreams. It’s the security of your presence that lets him rest so easily and keeps the vivid memories of dead soldiers and suffocating tunnels at bay.

Was he always this beautiful?

Full lips curved into a slight pout, raven curls tousled and sharp features illuminated by the soft glow of the rising sun that paints the sky behind your windows in a hue of pink and purple. It’s going to be a good day, you think while you caress his delicate collarbones and nuzzle further into his warmth. The faint smell of cigarette smoke and his cologne lingers on his exposed skin and you can’t help but brush your nose over the juncture of his neck to inhale the familiar scent of him.

“You are the light of my life, Thomas Shelby,” you murmur after a while of listening to his quiet snores, resting your hand on his chest to feel the steady beating of his heart. A calming rhythm, strong and persistent against the palm of your hand. God, how you wish he would never leave this bed and stay by your side for just a moment longer, buried here in the comforting safety of your home where nothing can hurt him. Tommy deserves that.

“I know.” Dark lashes flutter against his cheeks and then you’re suddenly greeted with a sea of endless blue, unwavering and hypnotizing you until you feel your face blush under the intensity of his stare, forcing you to look away with a timid giggle. A lazy smirk pulls at the corners of his mouth and his arms tighten around your body to pull you flush against his chest before he leans forward to kiss your flushed cheeks. "Why are you already awake, love?"

Your response is only a soft hum, too lost in your own thoughts and the utter bliss you sense in his arms to give him a proper reply. The unfaltering movements of his calloused fingers drawing small patterns on the small of your back lure you into a dream-like state and you try to cherish his touch, but the sadness that settles in your limbs seconds later makes your stomach churn and your muscles tense with new-found agony at the thought of having to watch him leave when he decides that it’s time to work for the company and his family.

Because mornings like this are rare and never last long.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hmm?” Tommy tips his head to the side and carefully brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The delicate gesture lets you shudder in his grasp, only for a second, before you melt against his lean body. The burning question you want to ask so desperately lies on the tip of your tongue, itching to tumble from your frowning lips, but something seems to hold you back. Irresolution? Fear of rejection? No, it’s simply the hopeless certainty of his answer, because you asked this question a thousand times before and every time he turned you down.

But maybe, this time...

“Can’t you stay here with me? I’m sure your brothers can take over the business for today.” You wiggle out of his embrace and cautiously swing your leg over his hips, hoisting yourself up and straddling his thighs with drowsy effort. “Pretty please?” Fiddling with the hem of the white sheets, still entangled with his legs, you peer down at him, only to find him already staring at you with a stoic expression and an arched brow. Oh, how foolish of you to ask him that question when you both already know what reply he’s surely going to give you.

Just as you open your mouth to give your husband a measly apology, he sighs and nods.

“Alright, I’ll take the day off,” Tommy mutters with an almost undetectable smile while he reaches for his cigarettes, one of his hands resting on your waist to keep you steady in his lap as he shifts under your weight. The wide-eyed and utterly perplexed look you give him earns you a low chuckle before he runs the end of his cancer stick over his lips and bites it in place with his teeth. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

#🕷— drabbles #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders x reader

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inkykeiji · 4 years ago

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at least i have the memory

character: takami keigo | hawks

genre: smut with the teeniest, tiniest hint of angst

notes: for @babyybitchhh & inspired by a dm they sent me at exactly 3:58 am <333. uhhhh is this set in the i can take you there universe??? quite possibly. do u need to read that monster before reading this??? absolutely not!!! this also isn’t the scumbag!keigo i’ve been working on ehehe i just kindaaaa banged this out last night in a bit of a frenzy, so!! why is it always keigo + touya at a house party lately????? | title credit: thinking bout you by ariana grande lmaoooo

warnings: 18+, noncon, drugging, implied stepcest

words: 3.3k

synopsis:

“Here, let me,” he’s saying as he takes you from Touya, wrapping a firm arm around your waist and supporting most of your weight as you lean against him heavily. “Go,” he nods in the general direction of the voice still hollering for your niichan. “Duty calls,” he pauses, and the two men share a look before Keigo laughs easily. “Don’t worry, I’ll put her to bed,”

You’re snuggled up on Touya’s lap when things begin to feel off. He’s throwing another one of those stupid parties, with too many people you don’t know crowding the main floor of your house, one of those dumb parties that you’re never allowed to invite any of your friends to, where you’re forced to share your niichan for the night with all of these dumb people.

“Dumb,” you whisper, mumbling the word against your step-brother’s neck.

He hums a little, breath hot on your cheek. “What was that, princess?”

Your head rolls from one side of your neck, and then the other, then back again, a weak imitation of shaking your head. A soft, nondescript noise sounds from the back of his throat and you try to raise your head, to look him in the eye, struggling with the simple motion.

Because no matter how hard you try, you just can’t seem to keep your head up anymore, whining a little as it falls forward again, forehead resting against Touya’s shoulder. It’s just so heavy; your neck can barely bear the weight any longer, and with a tremendous amount of effort you’re able to loll it back—too far back—or to the side, yet ultimately incapable of holding it up, of holding it straight and steady.

“Oh, I think the princess is sleepy,” Keigo’s singsong voice floats through the air, tickling your ear and making you wriggle. Touya chuckles, sitting up a little straighter as large hands readjust you in his lap.

“Is it bedtime, baby?”

“No,” you mumble, though you’re fairly sure the word just comes out as a petulant sound.

“I think it is,” Touya continues, ignoring your little noises and standing, letting you drop down his body and placing you on the floor gently. You sway a little, vision fading in and out of focus, and try to shake your head again, the motion sluggish and delayed.

Someone calls Touya’s name and he swears softly under his breath, looking towards the voice and then back at you. Trying to blink up at him, your eyelids simply fall shut, your brow furrowing cutely as you work hard to force them back open.

Something isn’t right.

“Goddamn it,” Touya sighs, oblivious to your struggle and raking a hand through his hair. “Princess, hey, look at me,”

I’m trying to, you want to snap at him, frustration bubbling up in your chest as you finally pry your eyes open again, wincing against the bright light of the living room.

Touya starts saying something, but you can’t focus on it, can barely understand him, his voice sounding muffled and distant as you concentrate on purely keeping your eyes open.

No, something definitely isn’t right, but your hazy brain can’t seem to figure out what it is, barely able to form a fucking sentence now, any word you try to speak coming out garbled and near unintelligible.

Keigo’s reaching for you, and you make grabby hands at him, suddenly craving his heat, an abrupt, insatiable need to be close to him blazing through your veins.

Cobalt eyes dart between the two of you, sharp and analytical. You’re nuzzling your face into Keigo’s chest—God, he smells so good—and he’s chuckling a little, thumb rubbing little circles into your hip. Touya makes a soft noise; a coo, you think, though you can’t be bothered to look, too enticed with Keigo to expend the immense amount of energy it takes for you to move any part of your body.

“You sure?”

“Yeah man, it’s no big deal. I’ll tuck her in and stay with her until she passes out—I know the way she gets,”

And as if on fucking cue, you whimper, little fingers tangling in his t-shirt as you pull, trying to get closer. Christ, Keigo could kiss you right here and now for unwittingly playing your part so goddamn well, for fortifying—validating—his plan that much more.

“Poor thing,” he looks down at you, trying to force the shit-eating grin off his face. “She’s exhausted, can barely even stand—Really, I should get her to bed,”

Touya’s teeth nibble at the inner skin of his lip, cerulean eyes studying your face carefully, half hidden in Keigo’s chest, before he finally sighs, shoulders deflating a little.

“Yeah, alright. Thanks, Kei,”

“Don’t mention it,” he responds lightly, waving a hand dismissively. He glances back down at you, golden eyes glittering, the slightest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Alright kitty kat, let’s get you to sleep,”

M’not tired, you try to tell him as he scoops you up into his arms, but your tongue feels like a slug in your mouth, heavy and wet and slimy and not doing what you want. Keigo chuckles a little at you, tells you you’re cute, especially when you’re like this, and you want to question him, try to question him, but you tongue barely even moves, only wiggling a little in response.

Something soft, something almost cloudlike is placed under you—no, that’s not right, you’re being placed on something feathery, something fluffy, little hands smoothing down the material as your head falls to the side, rubbing your cheek against it.

“You always get a little catlike when you’re like this, didya know that?”

Keigo’s standing over you now, face partially shrouded as he stares down at you, eyes a pair of shimmering topaz in the darkness. Your forehead crinkles a little, lids falling a bit in a poor attempt to narrow your eyes.

Like what?

The question is fleeting, merely floating through your mind for a moment before you’re captivated by the calloused hands sliding up your bare thighs, legs falling open automatically as you whine a little at the sensation.

More.

The word drifts through your mind slowly, languidly, and you swear you can see it in the air, swirling around Keigo’s head, wavering and wiggling a little. A soft giggle slips from your lips, eyes squinting as you watch the fading word, head foggy and feeling like it’s been stuffed with static. But you’re unable to grasp it; it slips away too easily, just passing by, really, just out of your reach—

“What’s so funny, pretty girl?” Keigo’s asking, a smile on his lips, revealing white teeth that gleam in the pale moonlight spilling through your window, sending shivers skittering across your skin.

It doesn’t sound like he expects an answer, not that you’re in any state of mind to give one either way. His hands have pushed your dress up around your waist now, revealing your panties to him as he kneads your hips mindlessly, fingertips running across your tummy, exploring the supple flesh.

“Just gonna make you a little more comfy, kay? Take this pesky dress off,”

He doesn’t wait for any sort of response as gentle hands curl around the hem, tugging the dress further up your body, a tender palm helping you lift your head a little as he removes the garment completely.

It’s cold, and you whine a little about it as you shiver, wanting to wrap your arms around your torso, but they’re too heavy for you to lift by yourself, whimpering up at Keigo who glares down at you with a sharp smile, mockingly cooing at you.

Honey eyes scan your body once, completely, from head to toe, and he sucks in a sharp gasp through his teeth as his eyes roam.

It’s risky—he knows he should probably fuck you with your dress on, or at least one of those cute, expensive nightgowns Touya always spoils you with, or something—but the adrenaline buzzing through his veins only heightens his senses, makes him feel giddy with the thought of Touya catching him defiling his precious baby sister.

The bed dips as he perches on the edge, palms running over your smooth skin, chills forming in their wake. He snorts to himself, skilled fingers tweaking a peaked nipple, the action causing your nearly shut eyes to open again.

“K-Kei?”

“Yeah, it’s me, baby,” he murmurs.

“You stay?”

“Just for a little,” he promises, eyes glinting in the low light of your bedroom. His gaze glides down your bare chest and to the waistband of your panties; cotton, pink—not that he expected any less��trimmed with lace and adorned with a pattern of blooming roses.

“Aw, these are so cute,” he breathes, a smirk spreading across his lips, his thumb caressing your clit through the thin material.

A little whine escapes your lips, body instinctually arching off the bed, hips involuntarily pushing towards his hand, desperately seeking more.

“Wh-What—You…” you trail off, blinking your heavy eyelids, trying in vain to force them to stay open.

“Just wanna make you feel good, sweetheart,”

And his voice is so low, so soft, makes you want to do anything for him, makes you sure you would do anything for him, anything to get him to continue talking to you in that hypnotic, melodic voice. Eyes finally slipping shut, you give in, and his fingers circling around your swollen clit and playing along your clothed slit feel so good, sending tingling warmth shooting through your veins, a smoldering desire for more encompassing your body.

But then sapphire sears through your mind—burning, blazing, glowing sapphire—and your heavy lids lift again, just enough to make out Keigo’s silhouette.

“Niichan?”

“Shh,” he hushes you as his fingers push the fabric aside, the pads of his fingers swiping along your slit and collecting your wetness, pussy fluttering around nothing eagerly. “Don’t worry about niichan, he’s busy. You want me to make you feel good, don’t you?”

Your head is nodding—slow, jerky movements up and down, up and down—even though you never told it to do that, and you stare up at him with glazed eyes, pupils blown to hell, breathing escaping your parted lips in shallow little puffs.

God, what he’d fucking give for a photo of you like this, quietly berating himself for leaving his phone on the couch downstairs. He’s barely touched you yet and you already look so fucked out, gazing up at him with bliss, adoration, like he hung the moon and painted the stars himself.

Something prods at your hole—a finger, you think, maybe two—and pushes in slowly, Keigo’s dark eyes glued to his actions, huffing out a curse when he reaches the second knuckle.

“Christ, baby, you’re already so fuckin’ wet,” his eyes flick over to your face, taunting smile gracing his lips again. “Were you thinking about this, hmm?” the fingers curl almost vengefully, and you mewl, hips rolling up. “Are you really such a good little slut, like Touya always says you are?”

Humming an affirmative, you whimper out his name, burying your face in the mattress as you pathetically try to fuck yourself on his fingers, grinding against his palm in an almost frantic manner.

He wishes he could take his time with you, wishes he could tease your cute little hole until you’re positively sobbing, cheeks shining with tears and sweat, begging him to just let you cum—you’d look so pretty, he just knows it.

But he doesn’t have the time to daydream—he’s already wasted a bunch of time just staring at you, entranced by the way your lips have been bitten swollen, little tongue peeking out as his fingers curve inside of you, pulling the most adorable moans from deep within your throat, strings of drool dribbling from your mouth, pooling in a small puddle and soaking your bedsheets.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes, compliment slipping from his lips seemingly without his knowledge, most of his focus captivated by the way he’s rapidly pumping his fingers in and out of your dripping pussy, his digits gleaming with your slick.

His voice is off, you think. It doesn’t usually sound that soft, that hoarse, does it? Fingers curling scatter your thoughts and your back arches, little pleads falling from your lips. You’re not exactly sure what you’re saying, babbling out a steady stream of words that just sound like smothered nonsense to your ears, but Keigo seems to understand, laughing and nodding.

“You don’t wanna cum on my fingers, songbird?”

No, God no, s’not enough, want more, need more, please, please, more, more, more.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you,” he huffs, but he’s got that smile on, the genuine, easygoing smile, lazy and effortless and so perfect slapped across his face, the one that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges, just a little, revealing glossy, sharp white teeth—a more sincere version of the smile you know has broken so many hearts in the past.

Hips are between your thighs now, and you can feel the head of his cock nudging against your hole as large hands force your legs to bend, folding them up on either side of your torso and instructing you to be a good girl, hold yourself open for him.

He didn’t prep you enough—doesn’t technically have the time to, not the way he’d like to, at least, though he’s not sure your greed would’ve let him either way—so it burns a little as your cunt struggles to accommodate his girth, tiny whines escaping your lips.

You’re doing so good, baby, take my cock so well—

The words swirl around in your head, dense and echoing through the space around you, a little pout forming on your lips as you try to place the voice—voices—saying them.

It’s praise you’ve heard before, so many times before, in situations exactly like this one, and your foggy mind has a difficult time telling whether it’s niichan saying them or Keigo. It sounds like both, but…

No, niichan isn’t here. He’s busy, like Kei said.

But the praise, the voices, murmured in the same soft, adoring lilt, makes your stomach churn painfully, something akin to guilt, dark and sour and heavy, taking root deep in the pit of your belly and spreading quickly, beginning to infect the surrounding organs.

The bottoming out of his cock shatters your focus, snuffs out that guilt in an instant, burning it to ash in the fire it ignites, now blazing in your tummy and spreading, higher and higher and higher with each snap of his hips until it rushes through your veins, alighting your entire body as you writhe beneath him, his thrusts working up a steady rhythm.

“One day, I’ll get to fuck you properly,” he grunts, ramming into you hard and fast. “One day, I’ll spend hours eating that sweet lil cunt of yours, one—fuck—one day, I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk,” he’s panting now, getting chatty the way he usually does when he’s close, a truth you’re sure of, even though you’re unable to discern how. “You want that, baby? Huh?”

And the whine you emit, high and needy and broken up by his harsh thrusts, is much too loud; he’s positive anyone standing down the hall—maybe even anyone on the top floor of the house in general—would be able to hear you, a fact that only works to inspire him to fuck more of them out of you as his hips gain speed.

It’s stupid—he knows it’s stupid, it’s reckless, it’s dangerous for the both of you—but he can’t stop, lost all control of his body, his actions, his entire fucking mind, as he pounds you hard enough to shove your whole body up the mattress, basking in the beautiful cries he rips from your throat, mingled with your pitiful attempts at pronouncing his name, coming out in airy little K-Kei’s.

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere, tearing through your convulsing body and splitting it in two as your nails dig into the flesh of your shins, fluttering little hole forcing a hiss through his clenched teeth.

He’s praising you, you think, though you can barely hear it over the blood rushing in your ears, your mind gone absolutely numb—everything’s numb, body heavy and boneless as sore fingers unclench from your legs, head hazy and vision fuzzy around the edges.

Your throat feels raw and dry, and you wish you could do something to silence the rough whimpers he’s quite literally fucking out of you, powerless to stop them from leaking out of your lips as your vision whites from excessive pleasure; so much, too much, it hurts, Kei!

But he isn’t paying attention as he grunts in time with his borderline vicious thrusts, breathing rough and erratic as his hands fist in your soft bedsheets—never gripping your hips, always careful not to leave any marks, any evidence of his presence—emitting a low, throaty moan that breaks off into a whine as his hips stutter and then still, cockhead pressed snugly against your cervix as his cock pulses, spurting ropes of thick, hot cum and stuffing you full.

He’s panting as he leans down to crush his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, breath hot against your face. You use all of your strength to meet him, mouths slotting together messily, coating your lips in sticky saliva.

He tastes like sunshine—pure sunshine, you’re absolutely sure of it—syrupy sweet like toffee and fiery like spicy cinnamon.

“Oh yeah?” he breathes out a small chuckle, shaking his head a little as he sits back on his heels, gentle fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties and pulling them down your limp legs. “And what, exactly, does sunshine taste like, songbird?”

“You,”

“God,” he snorts, rolling his eyes while he uses your panties to tenderly wipe away his cum oozing out of you. “Even high and fucked outta your mind, you still manage to be so goddamn cute—it’s a gift, sweetheart, a talent, it truly is,”

Soft giggles bubble past your lips, a few mumbled words sandwiched between them as he finishes buttoning up his jeans, stuffing your soiled panties in his back pocket. Keigo’s fairly sure you’re talking about how tired you are—you always get giggly like this after he fucks the life out of you—so he hushes you gently, nimble fingers carding through sweaty hair as he pushes it back from your face.

“Rest now, angel,”

“Want you to stay,” you pout, and he frowns for the first time tonight, molars grinding together as he exhales a deep, controlled breath through flared nostrils.

He fucking hates it when you do this, when you ask—sometimes beg—him to stay the night, and he swallows thickly, shaking his head and ignoring the pang that sears through his chest, a feeling he’s come to know intimately.

“You know I can’t,”

“Don’t care, wan’you to,”

“I can’t,” he snaps, and his harsh voice feels like a slap to the face, stinging your flushed cheek. Your nose twitches, bottom lip jutting out as your chin begins to tremble, and he sighs, pushing both hands through his hair. “I can’t,” he repeats, much softer this time, fingertips tracing the lines of your face in a tender caress. “I…Want to. You know I do,”

The confession spills from his lips in hushed whispers, entirely without his consent, and he’s not even sure you heard it.

“Soon? Soon, then?”

And you sound so small, so fragile, it nearly breaks his fucking heart. He doesn’t have it in him to tell you no, not when you’re gazing up at him like that, hope and desperation overflowing in your shining eyes.

You won’t remember a thing come morning, anyway.

“Yeah, songbird, soon,”

“Promise?”

Choking back the acidic bile rising in his throat and eroding the back of his tongue, he nods.

“Promise.”

#takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #takami keigo smut #takami keigo #todoroki touya #aaaaah y’all so sorry i just couldn’t resist making him a leeeeettle bit soft <33 #anyway sugar i hope u like it and i hope it makes you smile <33333 #it really isn’t anything special; just a lil something yk???#sending u tons of love!!!!!!#tw drugs #tw stepcest

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

Text

Catch me - Tom Hardy smut

The one where you’re Tom’s neighbor and he comes to your place after he’s locked out of his house on a rainy night. Requested by anon. + Dry Humping also requested by different anon ask

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cursing

A/N: okay, so here it is! My Tom Hardy requested smut! I’d also like to announce that I’ll be attempting to partake in this years’ Kinktober, and this is my first fic, fulfilling the prompts dry humping + face sitting. I’ll post the list of prompts I created for myself, along with the characters they are paired up with, a bit later. I also say “attempting” because I actually had a pretty bad accident last night and I’m still unable to do regular things like sitting or walking, so it’s been a struggle to get this done. If in anyday I am unable to write, I won’t force myself to do it. But that’s all, please enjoy this fic and let me know what you think of it! My requests are now empty, so feel free to send me any ideas you might have - I can either integrate them in one of my fics for the kinktober challenge or work on them in November.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I had watched with only partly concealed interest as the new neighbor slowly grew more comfortable at her place right next door to me. At first, it truly was just a slight curiosity founded in my observation of just how beautiful she was. But then, one day, right after she moved in, she caught me staring, and opened up the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. Just like that, I was stuck with a teenage-boy crush that left me blushing and stuttering every single time she so much as looked my way.

If there was one thing people knew about me, was that I was not the blushing, stuttering type.

But things only got worse as time went on. She turned out to be just the perfect neighbor, usually coming around to offer me cookies or other baked goods precisely when I needed it the most.

“How do you always know when I’m feeling down or hungry, sweetheart?” I even ended up asking as I accepted yet another tray of brownies from her tiny hands. Her sweet little giggle went straight to my pants, instantly hardening my severely ignored member.

“It’s not that hard to figure out, Tom. Anytime you get back home this late, I can pretty much assume you barely had anything to eat all day, and it’s very clear you won’t have the energy to whip up anything right now.” My eyebrows raised up at her comment, but before I could satiate my curiosity, she quickly added, “And before you ask, no, I don’t spend my life looking out of the eyehole, you just have pretty loud steps when you’re tired, I can easily hear from my living room when you walk the hallway during the evening.”

Chuckling, I nodded, granting her that. I knew that she meant no harm, but I couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll try to be more mindful next time.” Her eyes widened at my apology, and she immediately waved my words away, clearly mortified by the fact that I had interpreted it as a complaint.

“Gosh, Tom, no, that’s not what I… Please, don’t worry about it. I’m just a terrible insomniac, and I have good ears. It’s not like you’re waking me up every time you come home or anything. That would be a bummer, but also highly improbable, since I’m a very heavy sleeper…” I had come to understand that she was very capable of maintaining a conversation completely by herself, but everytime she took notice of it, she scrambled to get out of my sight. I figured someone in her life must have told her she talked too much, but personally, I’d do anything to witness her little monologues at least a bit more. She just seemed so interesting, and selfless despite the constant stream of consciousness that poured out of her lips whenever she was nervous.

I liked knowing I made her nervous. It made me feel less terrible about wanting to know more about her. Did that make me a creep? Hell, probably. But I couldn’t pretend like I gave a damn. I felt this inexplicable attraction to her, her personality and body, and that was it. I wanted to uncover what it was about her that had me so engrossed.

And one night, the opportunity presented itself to me. I had gone out of my car in a hurry because of the rain that had decided to pour all over the city and didn’t look like it was stopping any time soon, so I only noticed that I had locked my keys on the trunk of the car when I was already in front of my own apartment’s door, dripping all over the hallway.

Fuck, that was just so typical of me. Why did I even bother to get my backpack out of the car, when I was already arriving home close to midnight and would be back at work early in the morning? It wasn’t like I would have the time to use my computer or anything.

Sighing, I ran a wet hand over my face in an effort to figure out my next move. Obviously I would need to get someone to open my car for me, but in the middle of the night, it’d be hard to know who would come. It would definitely be easier to find someone in the morning, and I could very well get an Uber to some cheap motel and spend the night there.

I was about to do just that when suddenly the door behind me opened, and a delicious smell of lasagna filled my nostrils, making me aware of just how hungry I was. “Tom?” Her sweet, sweet voice instantly calmed my tense muscles, making me open a smile at the sight of her despite the series of events I had just lived through. “Is something wrong?”

A low chuckle escaped my lips at the awareness of just how pathetic my situation was, but there was no real humour in my tone. I looked down at my wet shoes before gathering the courage to look her in the eye again, giving her a small smile. “I locked myself out,” was all I said, and before I could even further explain my situation, her eyes had widened and she was reaching out to me, holding me by my wrist and pulling me inside of her place.

“You poor thing. And right on the worst night for it to happen? Here, sit down while I go look for something you can change into. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold, would we?” I briefly considered offering some kind of protest, explaining how I intended to go spend the night in a motel, but the truth was, I didn’t want to. It was late, I was tired and I was really fucking cold and just by being in the close proximity of this beautiful creature, I already felt a little bit better, so I’d just shut up and wait to see how this would play out for me.

She came back with some sweatpants and a large cotton shirt, a bashful look on her face. “I bought these sweatpants from the male’s department because they’re usually comfier than the ones I find in the female department, they should fit you well.” I accepted the small bundle of fabric she offered, one eyebrow raised as I stared down at her in curiosity.

“What about the shirt?” I asked, and she blushed five different shades of pinks and reds, making her just that much cuter. It made me want to eat her whole, and the fact that she stood a few good feet under me didn’t help that at all. I knew I could break her so easily.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I felt like I could slap myself over how silly I was behaving over something so ordinary. Why would Tom care about me having an ex? It was only natural, it’s not like I was a blushing virgin nun who never did anything slightly out of the ordinary. Sex was ordinary. I’ve done it before. I’m sure Tom wouldn’t assume I hadn’t.

Oh, what am I saying? There’s no way he has even considered this subject when it comes to me. Why on Earth would he be thinking about my sexual past? What is going on with me? I feel like I’m going insane.

I could feel just how warm my face had gotten, but I still had some amount of pride in me to salvage the situation, so I managed to roll my eyes as I pushed Tom further inside my house, in the direction of my bathroom.

“You’re a smart man, you can figure out where the shirt came from.” His chuckle shouldn’t be so sexy, but what about this man wasn’t?

“That’s not the answer I hoped for.” And with that mysterious sentence, he locked himself in my bathroom and left me alone with my thoughts. Granted, most of them revolved around him, so I couldn’t really say I was that alone, but the lack of someone to talk to only meant that my mind was swirling and a lot of different things I shouldn’t be thinking about managed to dominate my head.

Just what did he mean by what he said? Could it be that he… No, of course not. There was no reason for him to be jealous of me. It’s not like he could possibly want me. Right?

I spent the entire time he was taking a shower stuck in the same pattern of thoughts, so much so that I didn’t even notice he had come back to the kitchen and was watching me from the doorway until he cleared his throat, making me jump out of my skin while carrying a plate full of very hot lasagna.

“Oh,” was all I said as I felt some of the sauce spill on my hand and my chest, some even managing to get on my face. But Tom’s rough ‘Shit’ brought a giggle to my lips, despite the discomfort of the slight burning sensation on my skin.

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I thought you’d noticed me standing here.” While he assured me of his lack of intention to hurt me - as if I didn’t already know- he had grabbed the plate I was still holding onto and placed it on the counter, quickly procuring an already dirty rag and eagerly starting to clean me up, first my hand, and then…

Before he pressed the fabric to my chest, he looked up at me, his beautiful eyes catching mine and making me suck in a breath. “T-that’s alright,” I managed to get out, trying to look away from his hypnotizing gaze. “It doesn’t really hurt that bad. I think with a bit of cold water it might calm down.”

He nodded, agreeing with my words, but his gaze still searched mine for something I didn’t understand. “I sure hope so,” was all he said initially, his eyes finally dropping from mine to focus on the task at hand. “But I must say, I’m very disappointed.”

The comment puzzled me, rendering me useless for the time being. I could only tilt my head as I looked down at him, still crouching in front of me to clean my chest before he finally stood up on his full height and grabbed my face, gently engulfing it in one of those huge palms of his.

“I was really hoping that you were single, but I guess that would be expecting too much from the universe, considering how beautiful you are.” My eyes grew twice their normal size as I immediately tried to push him away and hide my face from his view, suddenly incredibly shy. But of course, he didn’t let me, instead pressing me against the counter and his very hard body, while he very carefully wiped away the few drops of sauce on my cheek.

For a few seconds, I let him work in silence, still trying to gather my nerves so I could say something. I should say something, shouldn’t I? I mean, here lies an opportunity that I never thought I’d experience, and here I was, being all silly about it. Finally, when he had at last finished slowly rubbing the rag against my skin, and seemed to be about to separate himself from me, I sprung into action, pulling him to me again by his forearms.

“I-I am,” that’s all I managed to say, immediately cringing at my own lack of social skills. “Single, I mean.” Very smooth. Well done, Y/N. But despite my stupidity, it seemed that I was able to achieve my intention, since my sentence made Tom finally get rid of the rag and hold my face between both of his hands now, his thumbs softly running over my cheekbones.

“Oh, is that so?” He breathed out against my skin, our lips inches away from one another, and I shivered against my best wishes. That reaction caused a predatory smirk to appear on his face, and I knew then and there that I was in way over my head. “Good to know,” he whispered, and then his lips were on mine, forcing me to accept his tongue, eating me whole.

He tasted like peppermint and coffee and I was already addicted to his taste, hoping to God I tasted as great to him as he did to me. At least, he didn’t complain. In fact, by the way he sucked on my tongue, forcing his deep inside my mouth, I’d go as far as to say that he did like what he tasted.

Before long, he had pulled me up on the counter, his hands holding me by my waist as his lips ventured from my mouth to my jaw, until they found a spot on my neck that made me gasp and hold his shirt tightly, and then he was sucking, rolling his tongue on the spot where I could already feel a bruise forming, before his teeth carved their own impressions on my skin, imprinting himself on me.

My head swirled with the force of the emotions bursting through me. My legs wrapped themselves around his strong body, and I was happy that my hands knew what to do when my mind hadn’t still managed to catch up to this turn of events. When his tongue came out to lick right over my collarbones, the response gasp he elicited from me came out sounding much more like a sob than anything else.

“You’re so sensitive, princess,” He teased me, still otherwise occupied with marking my skin as his. “I’ve barely even started and here you are…” His hands ran through the expanse of my body, like he was showing his proof to an audience. “... a mess already.”

He wasn’t wrong. I was somehow dripping already. I could feel it, dripping from inside of me, slowly ruining the panties I was wearing. They were so not appropriate for the activities I was currently partaking in, but how the hell would I have known this was going to happen?

All I knew was that Tom had lit the fire inside of me, and now the flames were threatening to swallow us both.

Tom’s P.O.V.

She was just too cute, so out of breath and trembling with desire with the little I’d done to tease her. It just made me want to ruin her even more. My little neighbor, so perfect and sweet, so needy for me.

She didn’t even realize she had started to grind herself against me, in search of some sort of release. Well, I wasn’t about to cut her off. Unstead, I took advantage of my grip on her, pulling her body until I was the one keeping her up, trapped between my body and the counter.

“Rub your tiny wet cut against my jeans, love,” I ordered in a demanding whisper right on her ear, making her shiver. She obeyed without any sort of hesitation, looking up at me underneath her eyelashes with her eyes glazed over with lust. “That’s it…” Fuck if the pressure wasn’t exactly what I needed to help ease up some of the tension from the need I was feeling in my veins. “Rub yourself against my hard cock, don’t be shy.”

My words seemed to be gasoline for her, giving her the push she needed to grind herself even harder against my bulge. I decided to help her, pushing her more firmly against the counter and following the movements, rejoicing in the pleasure gasp that escaped her lips as the added pressure provided more friction to her clit.

“Fuck…” She whispered, and I think that in the entirety of the four months of conversations I’d entertained with her, that was the first time I’d heard her cuss. The four letter word I was so familiarized with had a new, unexpected effect on me, making the situation inside my pants so difficult I had to stop my movements and slow hers down by her hips, so I wouldn’t just jizz on my pants like a fucking teenager.

But Y/N didn’t stop, despite accepting my silent request to decrease the fervor of our activities. When I finally managed to get control over myself again, I realized why. She had gripped the counter behind her and was using it to better control her movements, and it was clear by the way her head hung back and her mouth fell open that she was about to cum just like that.

“Shit,” I cussed just as the realization hit, and it felt like all of the control I’d managed to build in the last few seconds I closed my eyes had suddenly escaped through the window. My cock was painfully hard again, and all I could think of was that I needed to get out of these fucking jeans.

Who could blame me, though? When she looked like that, creaming her panties with her clothes still on? Shit, I couldn’t wait to get her naked and underneath me. I needed to feel her from the inside, explore her wetness with my hard cock.

But first, I was desperate to get a taste of her. So as soon as her breathing came back to a somewhat regular pattern, I was careful to put her on the ground again, making sure she was able to stand on her own legs, before dropping to my knees in front of her.

“What are you… Oh.” I couldn’t help but to chuckle at the innocence of her mind that stopped her from immediately understanding what I intended to do, but then I was pushing her skirt up and away from my view and her panties were in front of me and they were drenched, absolutely ruined by the sticky liquid that made my mouth water.

“Fuck, princess…” I moaned as I carefully peeled the cotton fabric down her legs, keeping it pooled around her ankles as I pushed her legs open as far as they could go. She was dripping, a single line of her wetness connecting both of her thighs, making me groan at the sight. “You might just kill me…” I commented before reaching up to pull her to me, effectively burying my face on her.

“T-Tom!” The sound of my name escaping her lips with that reverent tone left me even hungrier for her, as did her exquisite taste. It painted my tongue with its sweetness, embedding itself in my cells, making sure I’d never be able to forget it. I already knew I’d be hungry for her again the second I pulled away from her cunt.

Nonetheless, I forced myself to stop for a moment to gather my senses, as her taste made it harder and harder to control my need to relieve my aching member. I needed to be inside of her, and quickly.

Abruptly rising up to my full height, I picked her up by the back of her thighs so she’d wrap her legs around me and took us to where I’d assumed her bedroom would be, considering I was familiarized with the general layout of the apartments. The second I laid her on the bed, my hands were struggling with my own belt, as I watched her pull her dress over her head, now completely bare before me.

“You’re so fucking hot.” When my pants dropped to the floor and my cock slapped my lower stomach, I pounced on her immediately, crawling on the space between her legs and pulled her by the back of her neck to connect our lips once more. “Do you want to be railed tonight, pretty neighbor?”

She fucking whimpered in response, repetitions of “yes” and “please” escaping her lips as she tried to pull me closer to her by the legs she embraced me with. Not having it in me to stop this moment any longer, I gripped my member with one of my hands while I held her hips down with the other, briefly rubbing the blunt head of my cock over her sensitive clit before pushing myself completely inside of her.

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, blindsided by the tightness, wetness and warmness that now surrounded me. “I knew your cunt would be fucking delicious.” I watched her as I pulled out until just my tip was inside of her, only to push it back in as forcefully as I could.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her hands flew up to hold my shoulders, almost as if she wanted to push me away or tell me to take it easy, but as her legs continued to pull me even deeper inside, I knew what she really needed was to be properly fucked.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Tom was not exaggerating; he really did pound me against my mattress, immediately setting up the most brutal of paces. It hurt, especially with how much he was stretching me, but it felt too fucking good to complain about it.

The only thing I could do was to relax and accept this invasion, this possession of my body by my next-door neighbor. I knew I must have been quite a vision, my arms thrown up in search of something to hold on to, spit escaping the corner of my lips by the intensity of the thrusts, my breasts shaking as he pulled me back to meet his thrusts by my hips. I hoped I’d have some bruises on the shape of his fingertips to remember this night.

Not like I would ever be able to forget, anyway. Only a lunatic would expel the visions of Tom looking like this while fucking them, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the sweat gathering over his eyebrows. I wanted to kiss it away. I wanted to taste its saltiness.

Just as my head began to twirl in time with the growth of arousal in my lower belly, Tom’s eyes travelled upwards from the point where his cock was buried inside of me to find my breasts, one of his hands immediately following suit. When his pull on my nipple was accompanied by the feeling of his warm mouth engulfing the other one, I screamed as I came all around him, my head thrown back and eyes closed as I relished in the feeling of being so perfectly filled, so perfectly touched.

“Fuckin’ tight.” Tom fucked me through my orgasm, but at the sight of my eyes blinking back open, he pulled out, easily manhandling me into turning around and rising on all fours. “This fucking ass… Do you have any idea how long I dreamt about fucking you like this?”

I didn’t know how, but his words and the way his huge hands sprawled over the cheeks of my butt reignited the flames that had just been fed, and I found myself pushing back against him, offering myself up to him. Anything to get his cock inside of me again.

“Please…” I all but begged, and I heard his breath hitching behind me. “Just… please keep fucking me.” Perhaps that was all that he needed, because in a second his cock was tearing me open again, so fucking deep that I could feel it in my stomach.

“Fuck… If I had known how it would look to have my little perfect neighbor begging for my cock, I would have fucked you ages ago.” Every single thing that came out of that man’s mouth was like sin. He wrapped my hair around his fist, suddenly using it to pull me back to him as he raised one of his legs to the mattress, the new angle making each of his thrusts hit that spot inside of me that made everything just a little more satisfying.

I could feel tears running down my cheeks, falling on my spread out hands as I struggled to keep breathing through his assault on my senses. “Are you gonna cum again, love?” I could hear him asking, and I wanted to answer, I really did, but every time I opened my mouth, only sobs came out. “Are you? Here, let me help you out.”

The feeling of his rough fingers softly caressing my clit was such a stark contrast to the way he was still brutally pounding into me that instead of trying to push him away from my much too sensitive lower region, I opened my eyes in surprise as another orgasm took over me, somehow even stronger than the previous ones.

“Yeah, that’s it… Fuck. Come for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel your cunt milking my fucking cock.” His words did nothing to help ease my arousal, and just when my arms started to give out, I felt him spilling inside of me. “FUCK!” He shouted, following my body’s motions until he was covering me with his own torso, still very much inside of me.

His thrusts finally coming to a stop after he had slowly fucked his cum inside of me, I felt his thumbs caressing my hips as I remained face planted on my mattress. “Well, this isn’t how I expected this night to go, but I can’t say I’m not satisfied.”

A snort was all I could give him as he finally pulled out and allowed his body to fall by my side, giving me a quick kiss on the shoulder that was closer to him. “You ok?” He asked, and I snorted again.

“More than okay. You still haven’t eaten though.” It was the truth. After all of this… incredible distraction from my cooking plans, he still hadn’t gotten around to eat dinner. I heard him take a deep breath next to me as he pondered his answer.

“Really? ‘Cause I remember eating some very delicious pussy a few minutes ago.” It took me a few minutes to process what he had said, but when I did, I turned around to playfully hit his chest while feeling my face warm up from the reality of what we had just done.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re hot.” And when he put it in such simple terms, as he pulled me in his arms so that I could cuddle his chest, how could I feel embarrassed?

#tom hardy #smut #tom hardy smut #my fics #tom hardy reader #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fics #tom hardy one shot #tom hardy oneshots #tom hardy fic #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy y/n #tom hardy writing #tom hardy imagine

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katzkinder · 3 years ago

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Tag, You’re It

Servamp Week Day 2 Entry: Pride/Hospitality

—

In retrospect, you should have realized sooner that something was wrong.

This family was rich. Filthy, stinking, rich, with the kind of wealth that never came from clean hands. Their estate was massive, with such eccentric building design that being a recluse was nearly a given, with an absolutely obscene amount of land surrounding the main house, a veritable forest planted right on top of it, and all smack dab in the middle of Tokyo.

Charity be damned, these people had to be embroiled with something beyond shady to even amass an ounce of the ridiculous fortune that sat in their coffers, and you had been the unlucky soul who thought it would be a good idea to try and rob them blind.

The security, or lack thereof, should have been your first clue that something was horribly, terribly, wrong.

As things were, though… You’d felt uneasy, but pressed onward. No dogs. Cameras at the front gate, but not much else. Guards? You could see none, find none, no matter how many times you staked the grounds.

No one noticed you doing it, either. Or so you had thought.

Now… You realize that they probably just hadn’t cared. Hadn’t thought you worth their time.

You? Were merely a bug, barely worth a thought, and as you stand in the checkered hallway, with its black and white marbled tiles, being stared down by two small children with their red, red eyes, a creeping sense of dread informs you that you are no more than the most insignificant pawn on their board.

Which was ridiculous.

They were only children.

"You shouldn't take that," one says to you, a little girl no more than seven. Her mousy brown hair is in ribbons high on the side of her head, edged in white frills that match the baby pink of her frock. You don’t remember your research turning up a daughter.

"It's bad to take things that aren't yours," says the other, a boy of maybe five with a jet black mop, bright green clips holding his too long fringe out the way. A toy car is in his hands. He’s too young, you note dimly, to be the heir of Alicein.

"Put it back," says another child, with her shiny black mary-janes and kitty patterned coveralls. Her voice makes you jump. You don't know where she came from. She wasn't there a second ago.

More eyes peer from around pillars, around corners, from inside a coat closet where a game of hide and seek had been interrupted, staring you down, and they only seem to be multiplying the longer you stand there, the heirloom you'd been attempting to pilfer clutched tightly in your hands. Their voices rise in volume in their attempts to chastise you until it's all unintelligible.

Abruptly, though, they go quiet, listening to the steady, unhurried footfalls of what's unmistakably an adult. Corn silk hair flutters delicately just above his shoulders, and the smile on his face is sweet, unassuming, red eyes the same as these children deceptively gentle.

"My, my, what do we have here?" His voice is smooth as silk, almost mesmerizing, even, unhurried and unconcerned as children, children, more children, clamor around him and tug at his sleeves, point at you and the proof of your guilt.

As if a spell has been broken, you whip your head around and realize you're surrounded on all sides.

There is no escape.

The man before you realizes it the same time as you do, head tipping coquettishly as he takes a step forward. You take a step back, and the throng of tiny bodies behind you move to become a wall.

“Now now, everyone, let’s not be rude to our guest,” he chides, tracking your every movement, every breath, every twitch. “So..." he starts, clapping pretty, milky white hands together beside his head with cheery glee, "Who wants to play a game of tag~?”

A chorus of meeee! sprouts from each child, hands waving and legs bouncing excitedly, giggling laughter as the fear seeps into you in this dark, awful place, guarded by what are most certainly monsters.

Stupidly, you find yourself worried for the young heir, a boy of only fifteen and whose health is reported to be in poor standing.

Any other thought is scattered when a pathway parts, each and every child running this way and that, leaving you open to attempt to flee. ...And yet you remain frozen as the beast wrapped in beauty’s guise bears down on you, glistening fangs revealed from between grinning, pale pink lips, shining like precious pearls in the light of the moon through window panes.

“I guess,” the man starts, and cold sweat trickles down the back of your neck as you beg your legs to move, move, move, “that makes me It~”

You finally find the energy to bend your traitorous body to your mind’s bidding when a weapon appears in his hands, death’s scythe, beautiful and terrible, dark blade curving elegantly and swinging through the air with far too much grace.

He lunges, and the last thing you hear is that voice, hypnotic and soothing even while your heart pounds so loudly everything else is drowned out by your own terror.

“Have a good dream…”

#kat's katerwauling #servamp #servamp week 2021 #day 2: hospitality #snow lily #pawprints

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dragoncarrion · 3 years ago

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Iris is so prettyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! Can you maybe expand on that tribe? If they're open, I'm going to make an OC just for the aesthetic-

HGSYHSYHFFSRYBFYSHFRY IM SO HAPPY YOU ASKED

Idk if Tumblr will give you a notif so I'm @'ing u jic @the-unhinged-fangirl

Ok so I'll make this a s brief as i can (it was not brief I'm sorry i can't open my laptop in at the moment so no read more), no lore just the basics enough for ppl to make an OC

-GemWings are descendants of an offshoot of icewings that probably hybridized with RainWings (hence their appearance). The offshoot dragons didn't really have a name, (let's call them slushwings) but due to conflict they moved to the Southeastern part of the forests below the sky kingdom and creating modern day Gem kingdom. Slushwings are believed to be extinct (they're not, they are now ashwings that look pretty similar to the original offshoots but they aren't important rn)

-Appearance: Gemwings have slender and flexible bodies, long tails and (generally) smooth heads with a slight curve on the snout. Their scales are shimmery and shiny, coming in a wide variety of colors and patterns; the general look is having a white body with either dark or very colorful markings. They have frills bigger than those of a Rainwing, being also notably reflective and varied in shapes and stuff. Eyes can be basically any color, and their mouths and tongues commonly go from shades of pink, red, orange, purple and blue (but you can go more creative with these).

A notable feature are the sharp blades in their tails and wings. These are common called gem blades, or just blades, and they can appear as spikes on their necks and backs, on their arms and legs, and a few other places, except on the head, as only royalty has small thorns of blade on their heads or horns.

-Abilities: Gemwings are very agile and swift, and even though their thin scales don't offer much protection, they do aid in flexibility. Their claws are sharper than an icewing's, and their blades are deadly with the correct technique.

The "special ability" of this tribe is that of hypnosis. Hypnotics as they're called, have the ability to hypnotize dragons to a certain degree, depending on the strength of their power and mastery of it. The effects can go from confusion, sleepiness, hallucinations, to borderline mind control, although the last Is very hard to achieve. Hypnotics can hatch at random, but chances can increase with at least one hypnotic parent. They can be distinguished by their oddly shaped pupils and irises, most commonly a diamond shape. When they hatch they have a "predetermined" strength in their abilities, and they can train to become better at it, but not to reach WAY higher level.

A mutation that is more common in this tribe than others is a condition similar to myostatin deficiency, making the normally slim Gemwings a lot taller and muscular (Sard is one of those). They are stronger although less agile and they heal quicker from injuries than the average dragon, but sterility is extremely common and they also have slightly shorter lifespans (but not for too much).

-Naming system: names are most commonly of gems and minerals, colors and properties of gems like radiant or chatoyant for example.

So to wrap this up, they're an open tribe, you can make hybrids, Animus dragons (btw those are only in the royalty), mutations, royals, etc as long as you DIRECTLY credit me as the creator of them and DO NOT use them for anything nsfw or problematic/hateful (the 100% open status may change in the future but not too much). You can take Iris as the semi average gemwing, remember that colors and markings can be extremely varied and the shapes and placement of the blades is also different on each dragon (quick note: the blades on the wings can be on like, the top of other digits and have either a small articulation where the bone bends or just are placed on whole bones as to not interfere with flying)

If you have any questions you can just ask more or dm me!

#wof #my ocs #gemwing #ask #the-unhinged-fangirl

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twstedbeauty · 4 years ago

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Twisted Wonderland Pokemon AU Pt. 2

I said I would do a part two, so here it is! This will be covering what the Vice Dorm leaders would have as their main Pokemon!

DISCLAIMER: THESE ARE JUST MY OPINIONS AND JUST MADE FOR HARMLESS FUN. IT’S OKAY IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ANY OF MY CHOICES! I’D LOVE TO HEAR WHAT YOU ALL THINK~♡

Vice Dorm Leaders + Main Pokemon

Trey Clover - Slurpuff

IF YOU THOUGHT I WASN’T GOING TO GIVE TREY SOME KIND OF PASTRY THEMED POKEMON, WHAT GAME ARE YOU EVEN PLAYING. This man grew up in a bakery and can bake like no other, so of course he’s gonna have a Pokemon themed around sweets! And Slurpuff fits perfectly!

“It can distinguish the faintest of scents. It puts its sensitive sense of smell to use by helping pastry chefs in their work.”

These two good bois would have such a good time baking together. (If Slurpuff had been there when Riddle made the tarts, it would have been able to sniff out the oyster juice and that WHOLE fiasco could have been averted.) I imagine when it was still a Swirlix, Trey would joke about nicknaming it “Riddle” because of how grumpy it gets when it doesn’t get sweets. Riddle, of course, didn’t find it very funny.

Jade Leech - Gorbyss

Some of you may think this is a weird choice for Jade. Some of you may not know why I chose this Pokemon. It looks pretty unassuming, right? Just a sweet little pink fish Pokemon. Totally nothing wrong with it...

“Although Gorebyss is the very picture of elegance and beauty while swimming, it is also cruel. When it spots prey, this Pokémon inserts its thin mouth into the prey's body and drains the prey of its body fluids.”

You read that right. No, no, go ahead. Read it again. DRAINS PREY OF IT’S BODY FLUIDS. SO THIS SWEET LITTLE PINK FISH LOOKS ALL INNOCENT UNTIL IT FINDS FOOD AND STICKS IT’S HORRIFYING NEEDLE MOUTH INTO IT’S BODY TO SLURP OUT IT’S INSIDES LIKE A STRAW.

How does this relate at all to Jade? Well, think of Jade’s mannerisms. Jade always has a polite and unassuming demeanor, but he’s just as merciless and cruel when he needs to be, not unlike Gorebyss here. Jade doesn’t suck out people’s insides (at least I HOPE HE DOESN’T) but he can force people to admit their shortcomings and basically set themselves up to get an ass whooping. And isn’t that pretty cruel?

Jamil Viper - Arbok

I do not apologize for the lack of originality. HIS LAST NAME IS VIPER AND HE’S TWISTED FROM JAFAR, THE ONE DISNEY VILLAIN THAT IS KNOWN FOR HYPNOTIZING PEOPLE AND TURNED INTO A BIG SNAKE.

“Transfixing prey with the face-like pattern on its belly, it binds and poisons the frightened victim.”

While Arbok doesn’t necessarily hypnotize it’s prey, the pattern on it’s stomach is supposed to distract it’s prey long enough for it to strike, so it’s kinda like hypnotism? But I think it and Jamil would be perfect for each other. (I also think that Jamil’s Arbok would bully and terrorize Kalim’s poor Panpour.) Two giant asshole snakes that use the skills they were born with to get what they want.

Rook Hunt - Noctowl

I’ve been waiting to do this one!! I think Noctowl is perfect for Rook. He had to have some kind of bird of prey Pokemon, one fit for a hunter such as himself!

“Noctowl never fails at catching prey in darkness. This Pokémon owes its success to its superior vision that allows it to see in minimal light, and to its soft, supple wings that make no sound in flight.”

If I remember correctly, I think it said somewhere that Rook is VERY quiet when he walks? Or he can at least make his footfalls quiet? Something like that, but either way, you could say these two are “birds of a feather.” I can see these two pulling off some successful night time hunts. During the day, it sits on it’s perch in Rook’s room, sleeping. But once night time rolls around, you’ll see this big bird perched on Rook’s arm proudly, just staring creepily at anyone that walks by.

Plus, I’d say the two of them have the same unnerving air about them if you look at them too long. Lilia Vanrogue - Noivern

these two are the reason that no one in Diasomnia can sleep

A batty Pokemon for equally batty old fae. (And it’s shorter than him! Imagine that!) But yes, I think Lilia’s main would be a Noivern. According to Bulbapedia, Noivern seems to be based on a combination of wyvern, a long-eared bat, fruit bat, or a leaf-nosed bat, and loudspeaker or tweeter. Inspiration for its design may also have been drawn from gargoyles.

Hmm...bats, loudspeakers and gargoyles, all things that Lilia are pretty familiar with, wouldn’t you say?

“They fly around on moonless nights and attack careless prey. Nothing can beat them in a battle in the dark.”

Lilia was apparently a ruthless warrior that has fought in many battles in the Valley of Thorns. I can so see him ambushing his enemies with a Noivern. The two of them would be a terrifying combination at night. Plus, I find the contrast between a fierce-looking Noivern and easygoing Lilia to be hilarious. Everyone would be terrified to approach him, but Noivern’s actually a big baby. Lilia spoils it with fruit.

Also, you can’t tell me that Lilia wouldn’t terrorize Silver and Sebek as kids with his Noivern. You just can’t.

#twisted pokemon au #pokemon #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twsted wonderland #trey clover #jade leech #jamil viper #rook hunt #lilia vanrouge #pokemon au

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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years ago

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//caution: contents are hot and dangerous. kuroo tetsurou//

Request: Could I request a Vampire!Kuroo x Reader?

Warnings: one (1) swear. Mentions of blood, but no actual blood-spillage.

Word Count: 2.6K (i’m so sorry. i got carried away ;-;)

Notes: Leave it to my dumbass to turn a vamp au into a coffee shop au smh

(Vampire!Kuroo x Human!reader)

It seemed like something straight out of a coffee shop fanfiction AU. The dorky barista who now knew your coffee order by heart, always asking about your day as he brewed your latte. He would write you little notes on your cup, usually some lame science joke that would bring you back up to the counter, asking him to explain it to you. You would watch his face fill with a smile, eyes shining as you take interest in what he’s saying, the setting sun casting long shadows throughout the quiet cafe.

Wednesday evenings had become Kuroo’s favorite shifts as it was the one time a week when you would indulge him with your presence. Once 6:30 would hit, every jingle of the bell above the door would cause his heart to thump a little harder, in hopes to see your bright smile. Your school bag always sat heavily on your shoulders, tired eyes from a long day at university, but the happiness that spread over your face when you saw him leaning his long form over the counter, that lazy smile plastered on his lips, it made the whole atmosphere feel ten times lighter.

Today was no different. You pushed open the door, clutching your wallet, looking over the menu as if you were going to try something new, just like you always did. Standing in line behind the other customers, Kuroo couldn’t help but try to rush through taking orders and making beverages, just wanting to get you to the front of the line, just wanting to see you smile up at him.

“Vanilla latte with soy milk and an extra half shot of espresso,” Kuroo said, already punching the drink order he knew better than the periodic table into the cash register as you stepped up to the counter.

“$4.26,” you answer, handing him your card to swipe, but rather he pushed it back towards you, that staple lazy smile dancing across his face.

“It’s on the house today. Consider it a thank you for being such a loyal customer.”

“I can pay, really. It’s no problem.” You try to hand him your debit card once more, but he just shakes his head, laughing lightly as he pushes it back once again.

“No, seriously. Don’t worry about it,” he says, scribbling your name and a little joke onto your cup. “So, how was class? It was psych and- hang on, don’t tell me,” he pauses, tapping the pen against his chin in thought. “French!”

You tilt your head in confusion, but yet a small laugh still escapes you. “How’d you know?”

“Easy. You always sit at the table by the window and copy notes from your psychology book and your French book.”

“Very observant of you, but I’m just going to work on French today. I have a test tomorrow,” you explain, watching him attempt to make a cool design on the top of your drink, but inevitably failing and just creating a blob in the foam.

“I’m going to figure out how to do latte art one of these days, just you wait.” He smiles teasingly as he places the lid on your cup, handing it to you. A small pink tinge dusts over his cheeks as his fingers brush over yours in the exchange. “Careful, it’s- it’s still hot,” Kuroo mutters, moving his eyes down towards the counter, letting his bangs fall into his face in a desperate attempt to hide the heat that had risen to his cheeks.

But, if you did notice, you didn’t say anything, instead you examine the cup, just like always. This week, under your name was a circle, a few ‘Fe’s scattered around the perimeter. It appeared to be standing on some stilts, but you could’ve stared at it for hours and still not know what the hell you were looking at. “Kuroo, these are just getting harder, you know?” There’s a small hint of laughter in your words, the playfulness evident in every syllable.

“It’s a ferrous wheel! Get it?” The look on your face was all the answer he needed. No. “Okay, so, Fe is the atomic symbol for iron, right? But, like, why?” Any ounce of embarrassment or awkwardness that had once clouded the barista’s brain had since flown out the window. You had him talking chemistry, the one area in which he was completely comfortable. His thoughts were now so jumbled with the thoughts of atoms that your hypnotizing scent escaped him, even if for only a moment.

You watched him blabber on about science, explaining the joke, taking a million and seven detours to explain something else that was barely related, but you couldn’t just stop him. He looked so excited, hands flying in every direction as he spoke, practically buzzing as he broke down the history of iron and why it was displayed on the table the way it was. The dorky barista who had stolen your heart with science jokes and his lazy smile only stopped talking long enough to make orders as they came in, but he would jump back in immediately the minute he was done. This was always your favorite part about coming here, seeing him get so passionate about this field that he loved so dearly.

“I’ve probably bored you, haven’t I?” He interrupts your thoughts with an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just took up some of your precious study time, I’m sorry,” Kuroo apologizes.

“No, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind, really.”

“Hey! I could help you, I mean, only if you want, of course. It’s gotten pretty slow, so I’m sure no one would notice if I stepped away for a little while.”

You smile warmly at him and nod. “I’d like that, Kuroo. Thank you.”

It all seemed so innocent. The awkward barista nestled into a booth with his favorite customer as she tried to teach him the correct pronunciations of the words on the page. The orange glow had settled into a much deeper purple as the hours ticked by, quiet laughter being exchanged as the foreign words stumbled clumsily off his tongue. His arm had settled on the back of the booth seat, letting it hang around your shoulders, but at the same time, not overstepping any boundaries. But, the way that your body was slowly inching closer to his led him to believe that most of the lines had been erased. To anyone with an outside view, it was a beautiful image of a newly blossoming romance.

But, Kuroo’s head was fogging at the close proximity. It was one thing when he had a counter separating you from him, but now, with your head leaning on his shoulder and his arm that had just naturally sank down to rest against your form, it was hard to shake. You smelled so good. Your body absolutely dripped that delectable scent that made his skin prickle. Every time that you entered the shop, he could feel his fangs trying to push through, trying to just get some sort of taste of your blood. With that counter between the two of you, it was easy for him to shake the desire, but now? Your neck was so exposed. It would be so easy. He found himself absently tracing patterns up your shoulder towards your collarbone, fingers seeking out that soft spot that would feel so nice to simply sink his fangs into.

“I should probably be getting home.”

His eyes snapped away from the soft curve of your neck to look at the time on your phone. It was nearly nine, nearly time for him to close. Kuroo let out a small sigh, pulling his arm away. “You know, it’s really not smart for you to walk home by yourself at this hour,” he says, sliding out of his seat.

You just shrugged, putting your books back into your bag. “I’ll be okay.”

“If you want, I could walk you home. I just have to do some cleaning, but it shouldn’t take too long.”

“I’d like that, Kuroo. Thank you.” There’s a smile behind your words as you sit back in your seat.

It should’ve been as sweet and simple as that. But, you weren’t living in a fanfiction, were you? Everything would have been too easy and too beautiful if this was just your typical coffee shop love story. You should’ve gathered that something wasn’t quite right about the situation from his shift in demeanor. That lazy smile that always seemed to be evident on his features melted away, settling into a thoughtful expression. He wasn’t talking as much, preferring to simply hum and nod in agreement with what you were saying. If he was forced to talk? Well, his answers were short, nothing like the extensive rambling that you had become used to from the barista.

It’s not like he wanted to be passive with you, it’s just that the soft poking on the inside of his lip told him that he better keep his mouth shut. Kuroo was usually so good about keeping his fangs hidden, but for some reason, you ruined his resolve and before the two of you even left the shop, those two sharp teeth had emerged and he just couldn’t seem to will them away. Especially when you were holding onto his hand, pushing your body up against his side. You were so tantalizingly close and so naive to what dangers this situation really held.

It wasn’t safe for young ladies to walk home by themselves at this hour, but it wasn’t exactly safe for them to be escorted by one of his kind either. God, to drain you right then and there- The thought of your mouth falling open in the mixture of shock and discomfort, hands pawing defenselessly at his chest as that sweet red liquid dripped from your neck, the mental image of you being so vulnerable had his amber eyes shifting a few shades darker.

You were still smiling, so caught up in whatever you were telling him that you didn’t even notice how heavy the mood had become. You were so caught up in this little fantasy that everything was perfectly normal and that you were just getting to spend a little extra quality time with the man that had caught your eye all those months ago. But, he couldn’t help himself, really. This wasn’t how he expected his first long evening with you to go, but it had been awhile since he had had anything to fill his stomach and there was just something about the way your blood smelled that made his resolve collapse and his mouth water.

Imagine your surprise when the usually sweet barista pushed your back against a wall, standing over you, eyes glazed over in hunger, hooded by desire. Kuroo’s fingers gripped your chin, tilting it so that your eyes would meet his. And he smiled.

Except it wasn’t that cool grin that made him seem so laid-back, this one had an air of menace to it, those white fangs catching the rays of the moonlight. The little squeak that had left you as your back had hit that hard surface only made a low chuckle rise in his chest.

“What’s the problem, kitten?” The pet name dripped teasingly from his tongue, the tone only making you sink further into yourself, but his breath fanned so nicely over your skin, that part of you didn’t even care that he was potentially going to kill you. He tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. The sharp points of his fangs graced teasingly over the skin as if trying to decide the best place to finally make their mark. “I bet you never thought that I could be dangerous. You were always so sweet and innocent, never once thinking that I should be the one that you needed to be afraid of.”

There’s a soft whimper and a shake in your bottom lip. Kuroo can feel your slight shake and it almost makes him pull away from you, apologizing for saying such things, but this- this was an opportunity that he couldn’t just pass up. After this night, there would be no guarantees that you would come to see him again and then he would never have the opportunity to just get that little taste that he so desperately craved. But, even so, the grip on your chin softened and the malice in his smile seemed to disappear.

“If you’re going to kill me, please- please just do it already,” you whimper, the tremble in your voice echoing through his ears as you closed your eyes tightly.

That was all it took for him to fully pull away from you, that fear that had crept up within you brought him back to his senses. The ominous creature that had loomed over you only moments before, fangs threatening to pierce your skin, had been replaced by the boy from the coffee shop who got overly excited about chemistry and talked feverishly with his hands. He could feel his fangs shrinking away and Kuroo leaned away from you, sadness being the only emotion on his features.

This wasn’t what he wanted. He never wanted to scare you, to make you shake beneath his touch, but that’s exactly what he had done. To be frank, he hated it. He hated that after months of getting to know you and building a meaningful friendship with you, he let it all waste away as he was driven by an urge of hunger. Kuroo hadn’t offered to walk you home just so he could get a little late night snack. He had genuinely been concerned for your safety and yet, here he was, being more of a danger to you than anyone else.

His mouth stuttered absently for anything that could be an explanation or even an apology, but there was nothing. But when your eyes opened cautiously, surprised that you were still alive, Kuroo could see the soft glisten of tears on your cheeks. Someone could’ve hit him over the head with a brick and it still wouldn’t have hurt anywhere near as much as the knowledge that those tears had fallen because of him, because he had made you fear for your life and for your well-being.

So, when you flung yourself into his chest, clutching at the fabric of his t-shirt, letting your quiet sniffles dampen the material? Kuroo was shocked to say the least, but nonetheless, he wrapped his arms tenderly around your form, mumbling soft words of remorse against your scalp, planting sweet kisses on your temple.

“Please,” you whisper, your words getting caught in your throat in a choked sob. You tighten your grip, pulling him closer to you as if you were trying to completely disappear from the world. “I don’t care what you are, just please- please don't do that to me again, Kuroo. I like you a lot, but I-” You looked up at him, fresh tears shimmering down your cheeks. “But, you scared me and I-”

He shushed you, petting your hair softly before running his thumb over your face, ridding your skin of any remaining tears. “I know, and I’m sorry, Y/N. I guess I just like you too much to pose any real danger to you, huh?”

#i am absolutely not sorry about the title #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #kuroo #tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #vampire au #but also??#coffee shop au #x reader #imagines #dorky rooster boy could never scare you ;-;

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anntidote · 4 years ago

Note

yaku tricked me at 19:00 today, but he gave me a treat(5) so it’s okay? (if the event’s open <3) Thank you!!!

back to:

trick or treat event || ann’s playground

19. “friends don’t do this shit!”

5. “hold this for me?” *holds hand*

you initially met him at an after party.

you leaned over the bar, asking for a couple drinks from the bartender, only for this guy to do the same, chatting you up after plopping on a stool next to you, about nothing in particular. introduction with a name, pointing out something dumb, and laughing about it.

but you already knew he was morisuke yaku. playing in japan’s division 1, and how you watched nationals a couple years back. nekoma versus karasuno with your jaw dropped to the floor, stunned by their reflexes and how he dug the ball out of nowhere.

even after you hand recieved your drinks, you stuck around a bit. intrigued by the way he spoke, how his eyes glinted under the dim lighting, how he held himself.

“so what’s up with you?” yaku asked, pushing his hair out of his face, watching you sips from your glass.

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s up with me?”

he let out a hum. “yeah. what’re you doing here tonight?”

the underlying message behind the question and buzz of alcohol on your tastebuds sends a rush of excitement down your spine. black dress shirt, a couple buttons undone with the collar popped, angled collar bones and built stature. you swallowed the liquid courage with a slight burn before responding.

“i’m here to make some friends.” the slight pink of your lips distracting him for a second.

“oh?” a tinge of surprise etched on yaku’s face before quickly recovering to mischievousness. “that can be arranged...”

fast forward to into the night, a couple dances on the floor, drinks and words. finding a corner booth, isolated from the hot bodies and flashing neon lights, his hands were all over you.

tongues clashing sloppily, he groans into your mouth as you straddle his lap. grinding your bottom into the dark denim of his pants, blood rushing lower and feeling the hard outline of his cock against you. he takes his hand, entangling it into your hair and pushing you impossibly deeper into the heated kiss.

it was like both of you were set on fire, lighting each other’s fuse to burn all night with no signs of stopping.

shifting your hips against him, you practically hypnotized him. hard against your clothes folds, you moaned into him, pressing yourself harder against him for that delicious friction you craved. panties beginning to slick and stick with just the thought of him taking you right here, right now.

you pull away from the kiss, catching your breaths in heavy pants, with the string of saliva connecting your mouths.

and yaku thanks whatever God that’s you there, because if you didn’t pull away then— he knew he would’ve came in his pants.

“y-yknow...” you start, fingers tracing patterns into his wrinkled shirt, then making eye contact.

“friends don’t do this shit.”

yaku chuckles, softly swiping a thumb across your cheek, staring at how pretty you look with blown out eyes, rosy cheeks, and pink swollen lips.

“we don’t have to be friends to get outta here.”

his implication making your heart stutter for a second, breaking out into a grin. both of you stumbling in your steps out of the party and onto the street. the only things following you were your shadows and the clack of your shoes towards his hotel.

“hey, wait!” you called out, making turn around quickly, having you catch up. “hold this for me?”

he held out his hand hurriedly, thinking it was your clutch or that you finally gave up with the shoes you were wearing, only for you to place your hand in his. fingers wrapping around each other comfortably.

comfortably, huh?

“you-“ yaku’s jaw drops, face reddening when you cheekily wink at him.

“as cute as you look, if you don’t fuck my brains out in the next ten minutes- so help me- i’m gonna—“

before you can finish your sentence, he pulls you in the direction of the hotel.

“shut your mouth before my cock does it for you.”

and let’s just say you guys were more than friends and comfortable by the end of the night.

a/n: missing yaku hours anyone? same. i cant believe s4 is right around the corner. super excited!! anyway, i hope you enjoyed!

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harlot-of-oblivion · 5 years ago

Text

Flowers By The Sea (Part 8)

Your darling devil helps you face your fear while the romantic tensions rises higher and higher with every wave of the sea.

The second part of the beach episode is here! Hope you enjoy! 😘

Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part 🌺😊🌺

Chapter 2: His Radiant Rose

When you were invited to a party on the beach, you expected delicious food fresh from the grill, skipping down the shore while searching for pretty shells, and spending time with your darling devil under the sun. You were not prepared for just how gorgeous Vergil would look dripping wet in a speedo. He was the epitome of perfection when he slicked back his hair while walking out of the sea. And while you hold his hand and kiss along every knuckle, you cannot help but to think of the gallant knights from your childhood storybooks.

They were always there to protect their lady…just like you are now, my darling devil.

If anyone would have told you that you would be facing your fears by wading out in the ocean today, you would have laughed at such an unlikely outcome. And yet here you are…agreeing to let Vergil take you out into the salty unknown in hopes of experiencing the wonders of the sea for the very first time. You look up at him as your lips trail off his hand, which is still holding the token of your affection and trust. His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he stares right back with a faraway look in his eyes.

He looks so cute when he’s lost in thought, you muse quietly, adoring the little crinkle between his brow and the flecks of blue shining out of his silvery gaze before knocking him out of his serious stupor.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

Vergil blinks as your sweet inquiry brings his attention back to the matter at hand. He stares down at his hand still within your soft grasp for a moment before speaking. “I’m just…touched that you have so much faith in me,” he admits, opening his hand to marvel at the single white freesia you just gave him.

You smile up at him warmly. “It isn’t hard to trust you, my grumpy gillyflower!”

Vergil quirks a brow and hums in thought as he stores the delicate bloom in the front pocket of his Hawaiian shirt. “I like darling devil more,” he reveals while leaning in closer to you, which makes you crane your neck up more to keep eye contact. “It rolls off your tongue better,” he adds with a smug smirk as he caresses your cheek and rubs his thumb just below your bottom lip.

You shiver at his intimate touch while the rest of your body buzzes with delight at his suggestive words. Ever since that night by camellias you have been longing for more of this handsome devil. You agreed to be his accompanist for the performance at the wedding just so you could spend even more time with him, hoping that all the flirty banter and yearning glances would cultivate the seeds of affection you sowed within his briars long ago. Your constant daydreams of him are now passionate fantasies, and it’s little teases like this that never fail to stoke the desire for more, more, more…

“Are you ready to face your fear?”

The serious tone of Vergil’s voice breaks you away from your pining and smacks you right back down to reality. You notice that his lips are no longer curling into that cocky smile that never fails to turn your legs into jelly. His stoic face is now regarding you with utmost care as he offers you his hand, which quickly wrenches your pleasant thoughts into timid apprehension as you glance over at the rolling surf. You take a deep breath and gulp down enough of your anxiety to take his hand in earnest while putting on the bravest face you can muster.

“Shell yeah! I’m not gonna let this tide me down!”

Vergil shakes his head and groans at your punny response as he stands and helps you up from the edge of the tide pool. You reach down to grab your bucket of shells and giggle while his stern face tries to hide the smirk that wants to break free as he leads you out of the sprawling pool towards the open shore. He stops and looks around for a moment before sticking the Yamato in the sand, explaining that it will act as a marker for him so that they do not drift too far away from their original position.

You nod in understanding as he promptly removes his Hawaiian shirt and hangs it on the Yamato’s handle. It takes all your willpower to not gape at him like a fish while you unfasten your mesh sarong, but your eyes still linger down his chest and long legs. When he turns around to stare out to sea you seize the opportunity to check out his butt, which is looking mighty fine in that blue speedo. And his thighs…they have been the object of your desire in a few of your fantasies, but to see them out of those leather pants in all their scrumptious glory…

Oh! How am I ever gonna get any gardening done with that running through my mind now? you wonder in agony as you drape your sarong over his Hawaiian shirt.

Vergil asks if you are ready to embark once you step up beside him, looking out at the ocean with him as you steel yourself for the challenge crashing ahead. As soon as you give him a shaky nod of your head, he examines your face closely before kneeling so that you can hop on his back. Your arms wrap around his neck as you press yourself close against his body. His hands come around and hook under your knees before slowly standing upright, adjusting his hold on you with a slight jostle before heading towards the object of your deep-seated fear.

Never have you ever felt such an odd mix of emotions churn and bubble deep inside you. On one hand, your cheeks grow hotter the more your body bounces against his back with every step. You were already aware of his impressive strength, but to experience it firsthand is making your mind go crazy with new fantasies for the future. But on the other hand, your stomach feels as if it’s twisting into knots the closer you get to the vast sea. Your legs squeeze tighter around him in alarm when his feet meet the lapping waves on the sandy shore. And as he treks deeper into the ocean you try to focus on the feel of his skin beneath your hands, the sounds of his voice as he comforts you with soothing words…anything to banish the memory that is desperately clawing at the back of your mind.

And it works for a while…until your eyes happen to glance down behind you. The foamy water splashes around about halfway up his calf as he takes slow steps forward, hypnotizing you with its swirling patterns as the sandy floor remains unseen…just like the bottom of the lake in your hometown. It was so deep and so dark while you swam in that huge lake one foggy morning. Your little legs had to keep kicking to stay afloat while you stared down into the abyss…too afraid to scream when a pair of eyes snapped open and stared right back at you from the boundless depths…too weak to swim away fast enough as they sped up towards you with malicious intent gleaming in its unblinking gaze…

A frightened shriek bursts from your lips as you bury your head in between his shoulder blades and shake the memory out of your head. All movement stops as you feel Vergil looking back over his shoulder while you hide your terrified face from him. “How are you fairing, my lovely rose?” he asks softly above the sonorous sounds of the sea.

“I-I’m f-f-fine,” you stutter, trying your best to keep your voice even, but failing since your body is still quaking in fear.

You can practically feel his critical gaze bore into you as he makes no move to continue onward, calmly assessing the situation while you cling onto him for dear life. He’s probably wondering why he’s even bothering with such a scaredy cattail like me, you thought morosely while holding back tears. You start to regret coming out here with him in hopes of tackling your fear since all it has done so far is shed light on just how weak you are compared to the eldest Son of Sparda.

“Do you have any Frost poems memorized?”

“Huh?” Your head snaps up to meet his intense gaze while you ponder his abrupt question. “Yeah, but-”

“Recite one for me,” he interjects with an earnest request.

“Now?!” you exclaim while your mouth hangs open in shock. “B-but how can I recite at a time like this?” you stammer while yours hands motion around the tumultuous surroundings.

“It will help you focus on something else besides the sea,” he assures you with utmost confidence while his thumbs draw comforting circles just above your knees.

Vergil’s gentle gesture sends pleasant shivers up your legs, effectively dispelling some of your anxiety among the waves. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose, catching a whiff of the lavender laced in your flower crown along the sea breeze. The calming scent eases your rattled mind as you think about which Frost poem to recite. You open your eyes as soon as you are ready and nod for him to keep walking before clearing your throat. He gives you a small smile in return and turns back to task at hand as your soft voice rides along the crashing waves around you.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear.

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

The ocean water tickles the bottom of your feet as you finish your recitation. You look back to see just how far away you are from the shore. “Holy Motherwort!” you squeal softly, hugging around his neck tighter while resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m really out here, huh?” you marvel in total astonishment while gazing out in awe at the boundless sea.

Vergil glances down at you from the corner of his eye, carefully gauging your reaction as he brings up the next phase of facing your fear. “Do you wish to stand here with me?”

You bite your lower lip nervously. “I dunno if I can,” you admit weakly before hiding your face behind his neck.

Vergil is silent for a moment before turning his head toward you. “You’ve come this far, my brazen rose,” he whispers by your ear. “I believe in you,” he adds, gently encouraging you to take that one final step in facing your fear.

Your eyes peek up at him from your hiding place at his sincere words. You stare deeply into his eyes, admiring how the azure ocean brings out the soft blue hue among molten silver as you make up your mind. He’s right…I’ve made this far, you thought, reminding yourself that you will always be safe and sound with your darling devil here is by your side.

“Okay,” you murmur with a determined nod before looking around in confusion. “How do I…?”

Before you can even finish your question, Vergil lets go of one of your legs while pulling the other out and further around him. You yelp in surprise and cling to him harder as his arm wraps around your waist, holding you close and keeping you still as he adjusts your body so that you are now facing him in his strong embrace. Your cheeks start to glow pink as you realize just how close you are to his face. He stares down at you quietly as the crashing of waves and squawking seagulls fill the silence between you two. This goes on for a couple more moments before the corners of his mouth quirk into an amused grin.

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re supposed to be standing here with me.”

“Oh yeah!” you blurt out with a nervous giggle while embarrassment flows through you, which only makes your cheeks burn hotter.

You rest your forehead against his chest to hide your flushed face from his gaze as you ready yourself for the next challenge. Your body wiggles against the vice grip of his arms as you unhook one of your legs from around his waist. The cool ocean water licks at your foot as it brushes against his muscular thigh, and after a heartbeat of steeling your nerves you begin to lower it down into the sea.

Your foot slides all the way down against his long leg until it finally enters the ocean, shivering at the cool temperature of the water. You try to memorize every twitch of his muscles as your foot drags down, down, down…until it stops somewhere above his ankle. His arms tighten around your waist as you drop the other leg and slide it down against his leg as well.

Vergil shifts his weight back and forth between his feet as you lift your head up from his chest. His intense gaze penetrates your very soul as you loosen your hold from around his neck. Your body slides against his chest as you lower yourself all the way down towards the ocean floor. It takes every ounce of your willpower to not let out a soft moan at the feel of his soft skin brushing against your own warm skin.

As soon as your feet touch the sandy bottom, Vergil relinquishes his grip from around your waist and places his hands on your hips while you get your bearings. A vigorous heartbeat thrums beneath your hands as you take what seems like your millionth deep breath since leaving the shore. You close your eyes and let its steady rhythm give you just enough courage to turn around and face your fear head on by gazing out into the vast unknown in the arms of the man that helped you get there.

Vergil assists you by gently wrapping one arm around your hips to keep you steady while you turn around in place. And as you marvel at the sea, he moves you back to rest against his chest before enveloping you in his protective embrace. You practically melt into the safety of his arms and hold onto them gratefully while the rippling waves rise right below your knees just as he promised. His chin rests against your head as both of you take in the splendor of the ocean as it sparkles under the warm sun in comfortable silence.

“How are you feeling?” he murmurs by your ear after a few minutes of quiet gazing.

“Juuuuuust peachy!” you reply with a bright smile while giving his arm an appreciative pat.

His annoyed scoff blows against your hair, but you just giggle and snuggle deeper into his warm embrace. A husky chuckle rings close to your ear as he nuzzles your neck while his arms tighten around your waist. You sigh happily at the feel of his soft lips as they brush against your skin, and then shiver in delight when they press a gentle kiss on the nape of your neck. Your body hums in excitement and you find yourself saying the first thing that comes to mind just to keep the whimpering moan crawling up your throat at bay.

“I didn’t expect you to request Robert Frost.”

Vergil stops nuzzling your neck to press his lips against your ear. “Well, I haven’t been able to enjoy his prose ever since you borrowed the complete collection of his works from me months ago,” he reproaches you playfully while his hands glide up your waist.

You giggle as his fingers tickle your sides, squirming a little to get away until his hands settle back down on your hips. “I’m sorry…I keep forgetting about it every time you visit,” you concede as soon as your giggle fit is over.

“There’s no need to apologize,” he insists with a soft squeeze of his hands around your hips. “I know that he’s one of your favorites,” he adds before pausing in thought. “Speaking of which, you still have my copy of Emily Dickinson as well.”

You fight the urge to rub up against his midsection with every squeeze of his hand. “How do you know that they’re my favorites?” you ask in hopes of distracting your overactive imagination from wanting more fuel for your daydreams and fantasies.

“You always return the books that don’t inspire you while keeping the ones that you find captivating.”

Vergil gazes at the endless sea while that little bit of wisdom drifts across the salty breeze. You realize that you have shared this beautiful sentiment with him on multiple occasions at the book café and among your flowers. “But what if it’s not the books that I find captivating?” you ask pensively, thinking back to the earlier stages of your friendship with the grumpy gentleman who currently makes your heart beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings.

“What if it’s the man who keeps lending his books to such a forgetful gardener?”

You feel his head shift down just as you turn your head, raising yourself up on your tippy toes before pressing a kiss right below the jaw. He freezes up at the touch of your lips as your sincerely sweet words weave between the crashing waves, but then a low rumbling hum emits from his throat when you nuzzle his chin affectionately. His head slowly turns until he pins you down with his searing gaze, dipping closer so that you can hear him over the resonant sounds of the sea.

“Then he’s a lucky devil indeed to have caught the attention of such a lovely rose.”

Your knees grow weak as his forehead rests against your brow, the blue hue of his eyes twinkling warmly while a soft whimper manages to get past your lips. Something in the salty air suddenly shifts and you feel as if you are about to take a step beyond an unseen precipice, wondering if your darling devil is also feeling the line of friendship blur as you tremble in anticipation. A part of you desperately hopes that he will finally capture your lips in the passionate kiss you have dreamed of many times since that wild night…while another part wants to take matters into your own hands and pull him down to your amorous kiss. But the patient part of you wins over, not wanting to force such a pivotal moment as you wait with an open heart and bated breath.

Vergil leans down until both of your lips are barely touching…but then his eyes widen before glancing out towards the ocean. You yelp in alarm when he spins you around abruptly towards the shore, curving his body over yours to protect you from a huge wave as it crashes into both of you. A terrified shriek leaves your lips as the force of the wave pushes you forward, the water now up to your chest as you feel something brush against your back. You instinctively reach behind you to swat away whatever has ahold of you, but instead your eyes widen in horror as you realize that the bottom string of your bikini top has become untied.

You quickly bring your hands up to hold your bikini top against your breasts, thankful that the necktie of your bikini is still intact as the errand wave recedes towards the shore. Another type of wave hits you as Vergil asks if you are alright…sheer embarrassment rushes up your body and pools around your cheeks, which turn as red as a holly berry while you whine awkwardly. He must see why you are so mortified…you are after all literally hunched over to hide your crimson face from him. You just want this to end, but the fact that you are knee deep in the ocean and utterly terrified of what may lie beneath its murky depths keeps you from running away.

Vergil tightens his arms around your waist before hoisting you up nearly out of the ocean before making his way back to shore. You cannot bear to face him when he puts you down back on dry sandy ground a safe distance away from the water, disappointed and utterly humiliated by this sudden turn of events. Both of you just stand there stiffly, looking anywhere but at each other as the awkward silence between you two lingers for an uncomfortable amount of time. It takes you a few moments to collect yourself before surreptitiously looking over your shoulder at Vergil, who is currently doing a terrible job at hiding his flushed face while staring down at his feet. You gather what is left of your courage and take a deep breath, preparing your voice to stay calm while you speak to him.

“Umm…if you can just-”

“Allow me to help you tie it back.”

You stop short at his sudden interruption, squeaking in surprise while his offer of assistance makes your entire body feel like it’s got a bad case of sunburn. Vergil tilts his head at your odd reaction but makes no move towards you as he continues. “It’s the least I could do for making you suffer from my lack of vigilance.”

Your brow furrows in confusion while you shake your head, knocking your flower crown slightly askew. “You didn’t make me suffer, Vergil…I’m just really, really, really embarrassed,” you reassure with a weary sigh, “and probably pinker than a peony on a porch too…that’s all!” you add while trying your best to look him in the eye despite your flustered state.

Vergil is quiet for a moment while his eyes bore straight through you, searching for any sign of distress besides what you mentioned before giving you a slight nod of his head. His stiff posture gradually relaxes as he takes one slow step forward just behind your very bare back. “May I?” he inquires softly, raising a hand towards one of the strings, but not grabbing it until you give him permission.

Your arms tighten around your breasts while warm tingles cascade down your back in response to his offer. You bite your lower lip and twirl one of your feet on the sand as you think it over, but you find yourself nodding your head when you see a spark of remorse in those beautiful blue eyes. The hand that is still hovering close to one of the strings swoops in and gently grabs it as you turn your head to stare at the Yamato, which is just a few feet ahead of you. Both strings tug on your bikini top as he proceeds to tie them back together, mumbling under his breath that perhaps it’s best to double tie them just to be safe. You giggle at his soft mutterings as he finishes tying your top, but a soft caress down the middle of your back turns your laugh into a soft gasp.

“Forgive me, my lovely rose.”

You barely hear his low apology over the distant waves as you turn around to fully face him. Just the sight of his forlorn frown makes you wish you had more petals to throw in air. “If I had any flowers on me, I’d be showering you with all them right now!” you threaten cutely with both hands on your hips, which earns you a raised eyebrow from the solemn devil. It only takes one step for you to get close enough to wrap your arms around his waist for a hug.

“You protected me just like you promised, so there’s no need to apologize, my darling devil,” you declare softly, hoping that he hears the genuine tone of your voice among the sea breeze.

Vergil takes a deep breath through his nose as you rest your chin against his bare chest. You listen to his soothing heartbeat and sway gently to its steady beat as you smile up at him in adoration. The corners of his mouth curve into a soft grin while his hands encircle your hips, swaying along to your rhythm as he presses a gracious kiss between your brow. You hum as the pleasant touch of his soft lips makes the butterflies flutter faster in your stomach, and as both of you look into each other’s eyes you are brought back at that unseen precipice once more. For a moment you see a spark of resolution within the depths of his silver blue eyes, but it quickly fades as he breaks away from your ardent gaze.

“We better make haste before the crew starts questioning our whereabouts,” he announces while walking by you towards the Yamato.

You blink and tilt your head at his sudden shift from an open warmth to a stoic demeanor, feeling both confused and a little crestfallen as you follow close behind. He slips on his Hawaiian shirt and grabs the Yamato while you tie your mesh sarong around your waist. Something catches Vergil’s eye just behind you and he goes off to check it out while you pick up your gardening trowel and bucket of seashells. You look over to see him thoroughly inspecting a patch of wildflowers growing by the sea, summoning a tiny blue sword before cutting one lucky bloom from the sandy ground.

Vergil walks back over to you with a single white flower in his hand, but as he gets closer you notice that the petals are delicately brushed with a soft pink hue. Its funnel-shape and tropical flare marks it as an amaryllis, the bloom born from the blood of a shy and timid nymph in hopes of winning the love of a handsome shepherd. Your heart begins to pound as its meaning echoes through your mind, now understanding why the nymph would go through the trouble of piercing her own heart for the sake of requited love.

“Your boundless determination never ceases to amaze me, my radiant rose,” he compliments, presenting the strikingly unique flower to you with a soft smile.

You giggle at the subtle change of his endearment and demurely glance down at the bloom of brazen beauty while reaching out to take it. Your fingers caress the palm of his hand as you grab the stem and your thumb brushes over his knuckles before withdrawing back with the gifted flower in hand. He watches you bring it up to your nose for a sniff, silver blue eyes smoldering while entranced by your every move. You can feel a soft blush creeping up your cheeks as your eyes flicker up to behold his wondrous gaze.

“And you never cease to charm the petals off me, my darling devil,” you coyly confess, hoping that you have better luck than the shy nymph from that bittersweet tale.

Vergil takes a step forward and straightens your crooked flower crown with a soft chuckle before turning right back around. As his back turns towards you, he pops the hilt of the Yamato free and unsheathes it with a smooth flourish, slashing the air with two precise strokes before gliding it back into its sheath. The blue portal that he sometimes uses to leave your garden rips open, making you jump behind his back as you huddle in close to hide. He pulls you around to stand by his side, taking your arm and wrapping it around his own while whispering words of comfort.

You never walked through the portal before, but with your darling devil there to lead you it wasn’t so bad! One minute you are standing by a sprawling tide pool, and the next you are suddenly back hanging out with the rest of the crew. They welcome you both back in various ways: Kyrie and Lady offer you a fruity cocktail while Dante asks if his brother finally got the sand out of his…well, you don’t know exactly what he was going to say since a summoned sword interrupted him. You see that a volleyball net has been set up nearby and after some persuading, as well as some competitive taunting from Dante, they drag Vergil off to play a game of beach volleyball with them.

They try to get you to join too, but you swear that you would only slow them down with your terrible lack of coordination. Kyrie giggles as she wraps her arm around yours and asks if you would like to watch the game together. You gladly accept with a relieved smile and both of you make yourselves comfortable on a large beach towel while the rest of the crew breaks up into teams of three: Vergil, Nero and Lady on side and Dante, Nico, and Trish on the other. Kyrie flips a coin to see which team serves first and after a bit of bickering between the boys they position themselves before Nero starts the game since his team won the coin toss.

You and Kyrie chat about the seashells you collected during your search down the shore while watching the intense game of volleyball. At some point during the game, Kyrie points out the amaryllis still in your hand and you find yourself glancing at Vergil just as he lunges forward towards the oncoming ball as it almost hits the sandy ground. You say that you found it by the tide pool, but Kyrie’s sharp eyes catch the subtle look towards the game and the light blush on your cheeks. She giggles and gives you a playful shove against your shoulder, suggesting that it would be a lovely addition to your flower crown.

Your eyes sparkle with glee at the idea and you quickly undo some of the pins holding your crown before removing it completely from atop your head. The eucalyptus leaves and lavender seem to be none worse for wear after your excursion into the ocean, but there are a couple of freesia blooms missing. You pick out one of the empty spots and carefully weave the amaryllis flower into the crown, unwrapping a few wires to hold it in place since it’s a great deal larger than the freesia. And after a couple of rearranging you don your flower crown and show it to Kyrie for approval before pinning it back into place.

From the corner of your eye you spot Vergil staring in your direction. You look over and smile sweetly while turning your head to show off the radiant addition to your flower crown. His eyes grow soft as one corner of his mouth quirks into a secretive grin before quickly jumping up to hit the ball back over the net. Your eyes linger down his gorgeous body as you watch him move across the sand, wondering how it might feel weighing you down on a soft bed. And his deliciously long legs…you only sat in his lap one time, but it was enough to feel just how strong he really is…and just how long he could go behind closed doors and in between your thighs…

But this nagging feeling comes from the back of your mind as you watch him glide gracefully across the sand. It slaps you with the image of Vergil tearing away from your amorous gaze from earlier…and again when he turned away to open a portal back here. He is a man of action rather than words, and right now his actions denote a sense of hesitancy. Is he really having second thoughts? you wonder, insecurity coiling around your chest as your eyes track his every move. Your heart tells you the opposite: the way he held you in the ocean and came so close to your lips…it all spells out just how much he wants you too, but your intuition warns you about pressing the issue.

Ooh…what do I do now? you fret as your daydreams morph into worrisome thoughts.

“Daydreaming again, I see.”

“Ah!” you squeal softly as the sound of Kyrie’s voice knocks you back down to reality. You look over to see that knowing glint in her hazel eyes again. Your lips curl into a sheepish grin while you shake the anxious thoughts from your mind. “I’m sorry…what were you saying?” you ask apologetically, resisting the urge to fidget under her mischievous gaze by fiddling with a strand of your hair.

Kyrie grins impishly as she turns her gaze towards the volleyball game. “They’re pretty good, aren’t they?”

“Yeah!” you agree with a wide smirk while following her gaze. Both teams are really focused; you can practically feel the tension as your eyes track the ball bouncing from one side of the net to the other until it flies out of bounds. This starts a yelling match between Dante and Vergil, both of their voices raising in volume as their argument grows more heated.

“They’re a little bit competitive, huh?” you observe with a quiet giggle, already knowing quite well how often the twin brothers fight.

Kyrie laughs along with you as her fiancé quickly puts himself between the brothers. “And it always ends with Nero breaking them up.”

You both watch as Nero knocks some sense into his father and uncle while your mind suddenly remembers a minor detail you wanted to know about the wedding. “Oh!” you gasp, “I wanted to ask you something…” you trail off, drawing Kyrie into secretive discussion while the crew resumed their game.

After being asked to be his date to wedding, you immediately ran upstairs to your room and threw open your closet doors. You shuffled through a multitude of flowery dresses of every color and various styles, searching for the perfect dress that would suit the wedding…but none of them seemed right or appropriate for the big day. It was then that you decided to just make a dress and headed straight into your childhood room where you have a stock of fabrics stored. The dress is mostly completed now, but you wanted to check with Kyrie about some minor details before finishing it for the big day.

Kyrie eyes grow wide as you talk about what colors would suit your dress best without drawing too much attention…it is, after all, her wedding day and everyone should be enthralled by her beautiful dress. She claps her hands excitement and assures you that the colors you have chosen will look absolutely stunning on you. You sigh in relief and talk about your plans about the finishing touches to the embroidered flowers. She gushes about your crafty talents and even shares a few of her sewing projects for their kids at the orphanage before her face lights up with a sudden realization.

“You know…speaking of the wedding,” she begins with a thoughtful expression, but her eyes hold that same knowing glint from earlier. “Have you both decided on a song yet?”

Your heart stops for a moment. “Whaaaaat?” you exclaim while your mind scrambles for an unsuspicious response. “What are you talking about?” you inquire, tilting your head in feign ignorance while trying to sound as innocent as possible.

Kyrie smiles and leans in close before whispering in a hushed tone by your ear. “Vergil once told me that he plays the violin. So, when I heard someone playing the violin when I last visited your home…I just figured that it must be him practicing up there since you two are close friends.” Her sunny smile turns into a sly smirk before continuing. “And I may have heard you asking your friend which song he would like to perform at the wedding as I left your office.”

Your eyes widen in shock as you berate your past self for not considering Kyrie’s keen sense of hearing that day. “Oh snapdragons,” you sigh in defeat with a disappointed pout. “I’ve totally ruined the surprise.”

“Aww no!” Kyrie scoots closer to you and wraps her arm around your shoulders. “I was so surprised and genuinely touched by such a thoughtful and creative gift!” she consoles with a soft smile. “Which is why I would like to make a request.” Her eyes glance toward her future husband. “I would very much appreciate it if both of you would perform for our first dance.”

You ponder her request while watching the crew give it their all as the game comes close to an end. Your eyes wander over to Vergil, who is glaring at a grinning Dante while Trish serves, and you cannot help but feel a thrilling burst of joy at the prospect of him playing such an important part in the wedding. “I’ll have to run it by Vergil first,” you inform softly as the crew dashes across the sand to finally determine the winner. “But if he’s on board, then I am too!” you exclaim with an ecstatic grin that matches Kyrie’s own jubilant smile.

The volleyball game finally ends with Nero’s team becoming the victor by a scant hair. After a few minutes of trading quips and biting sarcasm, they all agree that the losing team should set up the bonfire by the beach while the winning team gets to have some rest and relaxation. You and Kyrie trade a knowing look, silently communicating that you need some alone time with Vergil to share her request. A bubbly giggle bursts from your lips as you get up off the beach towel and grab your bucket of seashells before skipping off alone down towards the sea.

The sun is now lower in the sky than before your adventure out to sea, illuminating the sand in its golden orange light as you move closer to the ocean. You notice the tide has receded, which reveals a treasure trove of shells among bits of seaweed and other trinkets. Your head turns to look over your shoulder as you shift through the ocean’s offerings, hoping that your covert glances will catch a certain darling devil’s attention. Vergil is putting on his cute Hawaiian shirt, watching you from afar when he grabs the Yamato and starts walking to where you are sitting down on the wet sand.

“Sooooo,” you begin when he gets close enough, “do you remember my suspicion from earlier?”

Vergil pauses for a moment. “Ah,” he murmurs as his eyes spark with realization, “so my future daughter-in-law has figured out the reason behind our clandestine meetings, hmm?” he surmises while crouching down to sit beside you.

“It’s my fault,” you confess with a guilty pout. “She heard me asking about which song we were going to play while she was leaving.” Your eyes glance flicker over to see his reaction to your folly. His expression has not changed much, the crinkle in his brow furrows a little deeper but he is not giving you a disappointed glare at least. “Buuuuut,” you quickly move onto the matter at hand before he has time to get annoyed, “she did request that we play for their first dance!”

Vergil tilts his head while he raises a brow in astonishment. “She would have us perform an integral part of the wedding reception?”

You nod excitedly. “Yeah! You get to play the song that your son will remember fondly for the years as his first dance with his dearly beloved!” A jovial smile graces your lips as you stare up at him with hopeful eyes. “What do you say?”

A moment of silence lingers between you two while Vergil thinks it over, staring out at the ocean as it sparkles under the setting sun in deep contemplation. You admire his stoic profile while waiting patiently for his decision, seeing a few cracks of emotion here and there within his serious demeanor. And once he has made up his mind, he takes a deep breath through his nose before nodding his head ever so slightly.

“I…would very much like that,” he murmurs, reaching down to rest his hand on top yours on the sand while turning to look down at you. “Thank you, Y/N.” He gives you a soft smile while his thumb brushes the top of your hand tenderly.

Your body instantly responds to his delicate touch, cheeks reddening and heart racing while you shake your head. “You shouldn’t be thanking me…I’m the reason why we nearly spoiled the surprise to begin with!” you remind him with a light giggle, turning your hand to lace your fingers within his warm hand.

Vergil hums in amusement and gently holds your hand while both of you enjoy a quiet moment by the sea together. It almost feels as if we’re… You do not let yourself finish that thought since your darling devil is very perceptive and will only worry for you like he did in the music room. Today is supposed to be about fun and relaxation before the big day…not eating more bittersweet berries! You give his hand a determined squeeze as your head leans down to rest on his shoulder, accepting that you must wait just a little bit longer for him to come around and sweep you off your feet.

Your eyes happen to glance over to the side a little ways, and before you know it an elated squeal leaves your lips at the sight of the one thing you were hoping to find during your visit to the beach. Vergil assumes an offensive stance at lightning speed, hand at the ready to wield the Yamato in your defense. You quickly tell him that you are fine before rushing over to collect two wonderful prizes in the shape of a circle about the size of your palm.

Vergil sighs in quiet exasperation before striding over to where you are carefully brushing sand off the most unique find on the beach. “And what have you found this time?”

“Sand flowers!” you reveal with total exhilaration, gesturing down at the sand while bouncing around like a bumblebee.

Vergil quirks a brow as he peers down at your prizes. “Curious,” he murmurs while crouching down to get a closer look. “And here I thought they were known as sand dollars,” he retorts with a wry smirk.

Your face falls into an adorable grimace. “But look at them, Vergil!” you demand with utmost seriousness while pointing out the petal-like pattern in the shape of a pretty five petal daisies. “They’re like flowers by the sea!” you marvel with a clap of your hands before carefully prying one out of the wet sand.

Vergil shakes his head and chuckles at your argument, letting you win this round of silly bickering as you proudly hold up your sand flower. “I’ve also heard that finding one of these supposedly brings you good luck,” he informs while examining the other sand flower still stuck in the sand with his appraising gaze.

“Really?” Your eyes widen in wonder before tilting your head in thought. “Then here…take one!” You present him with the sand flower in your hand. “It can’t hurt to have a little luck before the wedding, right?”

You give him a playful wink as he accepts your generous gift with a gracious grin. He puts the lucky sand flower into the front pocket of his Hawaiian shirt while you proceed to pry the other one out from its sandy prison. A brisk wave crashes on the shore and rushes right over your feet just as you free the sand flower, making you shriek in surprise while jumping up in fright. Vergil swiftly wraps an arm around your waist before you can accidentally hurt yourself by tripping over some slippery seaweed beneath the foamy water. You make sure that you did not drop your lucky find, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of it still clutched in your hand before giving your devilish savior a grateful smile.

“It seems I’m still a little afraid of the ocean even after all you’ve done for me,” you bemoan softly, mentally ridiculing yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings during all the excitement over your discovery of the sand flowers.

Vergil gives your hip a comforting squeeze. “Don’t be disheartened, my lovely rose. You’ve taken a brave first step. See?” he reassures you softly before turning his gaze down towards the surf. “You’re even closer to the sea now than you were while collecting seashells,” he discerns with a proud grin as he pulls you closer to stand by his side.

“And now every time I read some Frost, I’ll think of my darling devil helping me face my fears,” you murmur, cheeks blushing pink as you snuggle up closer to him.

There is a moment of resounding silence before you hear a thoughtful hum deep within his chest. Your eyes flicker up to see Vergil now staring down at you. His striking white hair looks so soft in the light of the sun while his eyes seem to glow like rivulets of blue among a sea of silver. He reaches up to touch the newest addition to your flower crown with a small grin while reciting some Frost of his own:

The heart can think of no devotion Greater than being shore to the ocean-- Holding the curve of one position, Counting an endless repetition.

As soon as Vergil finishes reciting the short but sweet poem, he bends down and plants a soft kiss just above the corner of your mouth…the same spot he kissed that night by the camellias. A soft whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it while gazing up at him, noting a mix of emotion swirling in the depths of those silver blue eyes. The resolution from before is back, but now there is a certain hope along with some hesitancy…

Your eyes shine ardently once you finally understand; this is meant to be his response to your astilbe flower. You smile and hug him closer, letting him know that you are just as devoted to him as he is to you…and you are not going anywhere while there is still a rose to be found among his briars. All your insecure thoughts from earlier are dashed from your mind as he hugs you back without much pause thanks to your efforts of getting him used to your friendly presence.

It seems I have more luck than the shy nymph after all, you muse, thankful that you don’t have to pierce your heart with a golden arrow to win him over. All you need is a little more patience…only then can you pick the flower that blooms from this sweet devotion and give it to your one and only darling devil.

Read Part 9 here

Read on Ao3

My Masterlist if you want more 💖

I'd like to thank @harmony-redgrave over on tumblr for the wonderful idea of Kyrie asking them to play for their first dance at the wedding! And I gotta give a small shout out to @rodentsunite for giving me the absolutely cute idea of Gardener Reader making dresses uwu

Tagging: @drusoona @bettybattaglia @exsultry @thedyingmoon @veenus-ow @meowykittenn @fandomhell97 @vergilsangel @thenightgazer @cherryvane @yesno18 @diabeticsugarush @queenmuzz @mary-v-o-n @tinamalee @a-midsummer-nights-odyssey @ancientwhitefire @agentdedf1sh @divinity-deos @shiranyaaww @skarlet-red-rose

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ren1327 · 4 years ago

Text

Pretty Boy Ch. 5

Kenji returned the next morning and noticed Ben wasn’t there.

“Hey, is he sick?” Kenji asked, worried.

“No! No.” Sammy said. “You’re early is all. He and Yaz have been doing…yoga.”

Kenji nearly salivated at the idea of Ben bending this way and that.

“Yoga?”

“Yup.” She lied and thought back to Monday morning.

Five days ago…

“What?” Yaz asked.

Ben was blushing fiercely.

“Please teach me to dance.” He said. “By Saturday night?”

Yaz’s hair was done in a high ponytail and she had just finished stretching, practicing ballet to help with her flexibility.

Sammy sat on a cushioned bench in the observation area of the dance studio. “Please, Honey? He’s got a hot mess of a date at Blue tonight.”

“You don’t sound happy, Love.” Yaz said.

“I’m not. But Ben really wants to impress him.”

Yaz looked at her girlfriend’s puppy eyes and looked back at Ben.

“Fine. There’s extra yoga pants and a tank top in my bag that should fit you. Get changed and we can start some basic moves.”

Ben ran off with the black clothing to the changing rooms as Yaz sat next to Sammy.

“Kenji Kon?” She asked.

“Yup.” Sammy said. “They disappeared the other night and I’m…worried.”

“You know it wasn’t anything special. With me.” She said.

“He just dumped you!” She yelled.

“It was mutual, actually.” Yaz said. “He didn’t feel that spark and I learned I prefer cute women.”

Sammy grumbled a bit and Yaz cupped her chin, pulling her into a kiss.

“Besides. Kenji never asks for a date to meet his friends.”

“Omigosh, you’re right!” Sammy said excitedly. “Could this mean…?”

“Maybe. If it is…well, you better say bye to cute innocent Ben.” She said.

“What does that mean?” Sammy asked.

“Oh, Sam~” She cooed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t ever wanted to push it for a crush.”

“I did.” Sammy said and smiled shyly, Ben coming out of the changing rooms with a determined look on his face.

“Okay Ben.” Yaz said. “I’m going to teach you how to seduce your date in one song.”

“Wh-what does that entail?” He asked.

“Confidence, little bean.” She said and started a song. “You’re going to learn to dance to this song. I’ll make sure it’s played, but you. You need to grab Kon by the throat with your pretty face and hypnotize him with your body.”

“I don’t think I have that kind of confidence.” Ben said with a gulp.

Yaz patted his shoulder. “Yes you do. We just gotta dig deep and coax it out to play.”

Ben smiled at her as Sammy got up and joined them.

“Let’s do this all together.” She said with a bright smile. “Then we can work on improve if we need to.”

Yaz smiled at her girlfriend. “Okay you two. Let’s have some fun.”

Ben nodded and put his hands on his hips.

Ben came in with a smile and waved at Kenji. Kenji handed him the thermos.

“Dad loved it.”

“And you?” Ben asked, big eyes gazing up at Kenji.

“I love yo—it! I love it!”

Ben’s eyes became impossibly wide and he turned, running into the counter and squeaking out a sorry as he put the thermos in the sink.

“I’m glad! I glad your Dad loves it. That you love…it…” He said, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

Kenji moved closer and took his hand from over the counter, looking into his eyes.

“I do.”

Ben smiled and bit his lip. “I have a carob banana shake you can try before you go work out.”

“Let me at it.” Kenji said as Sammy smirked and texted Yaz about how impossible these two were around each other.

“Okay. I’m good right?” Kenji asked Dave as he exited his car. “I look good?”

He was in a tight thin blue sweater with black slacks and a black leather jacket with his most expensive boots. Dave meanwhile was in brown board shorts and a crisp flower patterned short sleeve button up with high tops.

He gave Kenji a thumbs up. “You look great, Kenji! Don’t worry about a thing.”

“I really like Ben, Dave. I gotta just…be perfect.” He said.

Dave made a shocked face. “Wait. We got a second date?”

“Yeah?” Kenji said. He stopped.

“Yeah. We do.”

“You must really like this kid.” Dave said.

“I do, Dave. I really, really do.” The boy sighed as he and Dave were let in the front door of the club.

The silver and blue themed club was two stories high with two massive bars on each side, one upstairs and one down. Upstairs were private rooms for groups and booths under sheer blue canopies that wait staff tended. While downstairs just had first come first serve booths. A staircase led down to an area filled with sofas and water cooler watched carefully right next to the dance floor for tired or overheated dancers.

Dave gasped as he saw a familiar man dressed in black slacks and a midnight blue button up.

“Excuse me, kiddo, I’ll be watching from the bar.” Dave said.

“Okay, but—” He noticed Dave was talking to a black man at the bar.

“That’s new.” He said with a smile.

Brooklynn, Darius and Yaz were sitting in one of the sectioned off booths upstairs. Darius was talking to a waiter, most likely ordering drinks.

Darius was in yellow and black patched pants, the latest Jordan’s and a black t shirt with a yellow bandana around his neck. Brooklynn was in a one shoulder red lace dress that went down to her waist and flared out around her knees with some matching red peep toe pumps. Yaz was in a tight purple crop top and a longer black pencil skirt with white lace up high heeled sandals.

“Hey, dude.” Darius called. “We all got here before you.”

“We all?” He asked and turned to see two people walking to them.

First was Sammy in pink cowgirl boots and a white ruffled dress with a tea skirt. But then…

Ben walked next to her, wearing tight faded skinny jeans with rips showing creamy thighs and knees. He was in a short sleeve black and grey button up with the top two buttons undone and black high tops.

He stared at Kenji and Kenji stared back.

He walked up to him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Ben said with a smile.

Kenji slid into the booth, Ben coming in beside him. A waiter brought them a tray of drinks.

“Rose lemon spritzer?” She asked.

Ben took it from her and smiled. “Thank you.”

She looked him up and down, but Kenji gave her a look and she quietly served the rest of the drinks and left.

“Calm down, Ben’s gonna be 21 in like, three weeks.” Yaz said.

“Really?” Kenji asked.

“Yeah.” He said. “Plus. This is non-alcoholic.”

Kenji wrinkled his nose.

“It’s just ginger ale, pomegranate juice and rosewater with some rose petals on top.” He said and held it out to Kenji.

The older male took a sip. “That’s…really good, actually.”

Ben took it back and, while keeping eye contact with Kenji, turned the glass around and sipped directly from where Kenji had. Ben made a show of licking his lips and hummed.

“Tasty.” He said as Kenji’s face lit up.

Yaz gave a thumbs up as Sammy handed Kenji his Jack and Coke.

“You look thirsty.” She said, trying hard to hold in a giggle.

Kenji huffed and sipped his own drink as Brooklynn and Darius went to dance.

Yaz whispered to a passing waitress and she nodded.

The music seemed to get louder and Kenji held out a hand. “Dance with me?”

“Sure!” Ben said and Kenji shrugged off his jacket, leaving it in the booth.

Kenji led Ben down to the crowded dancefloor as a song he knew Yaz had to had recommended came on.

He saw her and Sammy find their own spot to dance and he smiled down at Ben.

Ben swayed to the intro of the song and batted those long eye lashes at him, cheeks red. Kenji could tell he was a little embarrassed but was hypnotized by the way his hips were swaying side to side.

Kenji placed his hands on those hips and Ben stepped back with a coy smile, lifting an arm and spinning as the beat dropped.

Kenji’s jaw hug as he watched Ben sway and turned away from him, bending his knees and rolling his shoulders, making Kenji’s mouth dry up when Ben smiled at him from over his shoulder. His hips popped as he lifted his hands again, bending the elbows and showing off his frame.

He turned and kept the momentum as he placed his wrists on Kenji’s shoulder, eyes staring into his as he popped his shoulders and despite being so close, still danced out of his reach. He looked Kenji up and down, biting his lip and pressing his chest to Kenji’s solar plexus.

Ben cocked his head and rubbed his cheek against Kenji’s, letting out a soft sigh in his ear before he did a slow turn away from him and seemed to pose, neck extended and eyes heavily lidded.

He rolled a shoulder crooked his finger in his direction and Kenji stepped forward as Ben leaned back into him.

Then he started swaying again and Kenji felt like he was going to die.

He wrapped his arms around Ben’s waist and the smaller man rolled his body into him, slotting their shapes together perfectly. Ben’s arms came up and hooked around his neck. The music slowed for a verse and when Kenji leaned down, Ben brushed his lips over his teasingly. But when Kenji moved forward, Ben moved away again.

He took Kenji’s hands and put them on his hips. He placed his hands on Kenji’s shoulders, swaying his hips from side to side. He smiled and squeezed Kenji’s shoulders, mouthing ‘how you like that?’ to the song.

Kenji could feel his heart thudding in his ears as he yanked Ben forward into a kiss, color exploding behind his eyes as Ben moaned and wrapped his arms around his neck. He pulled Ben closer, as if trying to absorb him.

Ben moaned and pulled away with a gasp, giving Kenji a heated look. The lights and music making him look like some kind of ethereal beauty.

Kenji grabbed his hand and led him to one of the unoccupied rooms, slotting his credit card in the payment kiosk and not caring how much it was. He was surprised when Ben threw the door open and yanked him in, slamming and locking the door behind them

The green eyed boy moaned again when Kenji pinned him against the wall, lifting him up. Long legs wrapped around his waist as he started undoing the buttons to Ben’s shirt.

“Kenji…” Ben moaned softly when he started kissing his neck, sucking a mark right over his collarbone.

“Ben.” He moaned back as Ben lifted his hips and bit his bottom lip.

He could hear the loud music still pumping and he wondered if he was getting drunk off Ben’s voice.

Ben wrapped an arm around his neck and with his other hand, grabbed the back of his head, fisting his hair to keep him in place.

He tasted rosewater and tea and Ben, Ben, Ben!

He panted as Ben yanked his shirt up and off his body, kissing him again.

His heart was racing.

His blood was singing.

He felt like he was made of starlight and he was going to burn through the damn world.

This.

This was it.

Ben was his one.

#ben pincus #kenji kon #jw bumpy #jw brooklynn #darius bowman #sammy gutierrez #yaz fadoula #jw benji #jw fanfic #jwcc #jurassic world camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous #camp cretaceous pretty boy #camp cretaceous fanfic

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jungkookiebus · 5 years ago

Text

the future is not fine | jhs

Genre: dystopian au, smut Pairing: club scene!Hoseok x club scene!reader Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: heavy drug use (the reader takes acid), mentions alcohol and smoking weed, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, hallucinations, this is the dark future where people have ruined the Earth and are paying the consequences. Summary: In a world where everything went downhill after 2020, people are itching to forget and live lives without care. For some, that means going to mysterious parties hosted by an anonymous donor. The text comes through in a group chat, with numbers you’ll never save or remember, and you drop whatever it is you’re doing to go. In the future, when the world is rampant with economic disaster and war, you can self-medicate yourself with the flick of a wrist and succumb to the music. That’s when you meet him, the mysterious dancer that brings color into your dull life, if just for a moment.

The sky was a burst of oranges, purples, reds, and bright yellows. The salt of the ocean was fresh on the air as you swayed to the music in the breeze. You opened your eyes momentarily to stare out over the water, watching the sun ripple across its diaphanous surface. ‘Party starts at sunset.’ the invitation had said. Yet another rather anonymous party at some rich kid’s house. Everyone came to these parties, but only when you ran with these crowds. The only way someone could be indoctrinated into this “elite” club of sorts, was to be brought on by someone in the chain. Most people realized this life wasn’t for them amongst the drugs and alcohol. So, they left. Which was all good and fine because it kept the numbers even; making it easier to host at more anonymous venues. But there were those who had been around for a while, like you. Two years into this scene and there was no end in sight. You’d exchange knowing glances amongst those that stayed, between you and the drug dealer who never changed as you made an exchange for ecstasy, and sometimes the rotating bartenders. The beach house you were at this time looked to be someone’s winter home and your party was its squatter. The invitation came through the group text, none of which were saved to your phone because you had no need to know these people. You had smiled when you’d gotten it, smiled sweetly at your date across the table and said, “I’m sorry, this just isn’t working.” Watching his face contort into total shock as you stood from the table, grabbed your jacket, and winked before leaving the restaurant. Pulling a joint from the pocket on your dress, you held your hand in front to block the wind to light it, and took a long, burning drag. You didn’t need to look at your phone again, having memorized the address the moment you read it.

So, here you were, among the others who all showed up as soon as the sun kissed the horizon. A low, thrumming beat pulsed up from your feet, tingling in your fingertips, and left a numb feeling across your lips. You had smoked more once you arrived, wandered outside, and that’s where you currently found yourself. The sun still warmed, but the more it slipped, the cooler it got. At some point someone had turned on the outside heaters, but you barely noticed the people around you. The second time you decided to open your eyes is when you saw him. The sun glinted against the natural blonde highlights in his brown hair. His eyes were closed too as he danced to the music. His body moved like water and he moved so fluidly that he had you hypnotized instantly, swaying on the spot as your eyes kept up with his movements. He wore a loose white t-shirt, baggy pants, and expensive sneakers that moved just as smoothly as him. He moved as if he came out of the womb dancing. Your eyes slid shut as the…third? Fourth? Fifth? Hit overtook you. When you remembered him again, he was gone, and he slipped from your memory along with all your other thoughts.

The next text came through on the shittiest of Tuesdays. You were sitting at your desk when your phone vibrated across your desk. The address was given, a previous venue hosted by god knows who, and was one of your favorite spots. It was an old, abandoned telescope that was once part of the now defunct space program. That one president, back in 2020 when he had gotten re-elected, had pretty much ruined the world as you knew it. That’s why these parties existed, to forget and move on. So, here you were, standing in front of the door ready to flash your invitation to the masked bouncer. He nodded once at you and stood to the side to allow you in. The lights were off, but soft lights, inlaid into the floor, shined upwards, not even reaching more than six feet. Every now and again a strobe light would come on as the beat picked up tempo. That was when you saw him again and your memory was jogged. Under the strobe lights, he looked downright mechanical in his movements. Again, alone. Again, eyes closed and feeling the music. This time you wanted to watch. The bar wasn’t far from the dance floor and you wanted to appreciate him. When the strobe lights ceased its assault on your eyes, you saw him lit from below. It threw his features, half hidden under a cap, into sharp contrast. You watched as he spun, arms lifting towards the heavens, and saw that even his fingers were as elegant as the rest of him. That’s when Sam came by, of course his name wasn’t really Sam, but the local drug dealer needed something for people to call him. He sauntered up next to you, having seen you hundreds of times, half of his face hidden under a highly detailed fox mask.

“Anything for the lady tonight?”

“One sheet please,” you said waving your scanner bracelet over his.

“Open up,” he said.

You turned as he pulled a small, plastic container from his bag. Pulling a small sheet from it he reached out towards you. You opened your mouth, lifting your tongue, and let him drop the sheet there. Closing your mouth, you smiled at him as winked at you from behind the mask before walking away. Thirty minutes later and the strobe light was starting to look like a rainbow in your vision. Trails of multi-colored light followed the man as he danced, creating beautiful patterns in his wake. Your body seemed to melt into the floor as you watched him, but you wanted to touch those light trails. With some effort, you pushed off the bar, and trudged through what felt like jell-o. He shone brighter the closer you got, and the light was almost close enough to touch. Focused on the bright blues, reds, and greens in front of you, you reached out. A jolt of electricity coursed through you as he caught your wrist in his hand and pulled you forward. His hand caressed the back of your head, pulling you in closer so that he could lean into your ear.

“How long were you going to watch me until you decided to come over?” He leaned back as he ended the question. A pattern of suns moved across his black shirt, circling around, and coming back again in a celestial march. His eyes sparkled under his cap and you swore you saw stars there.

“Turn him into stars and form a constellation in his image.”

“And the first thing she ever says is a line from Shakespeare,” he chuckled.

“I can’t help it when you dance like that.”

His hand was still firm on the back of your head as he pulled your hips into his. You didn’t really have to dance. No one would question it; everyone was here for different reasons, but under the one unifying rule that everyone kept to themselves. The second you stepped into his personal space however, you were his. He had you dancing with him, nothing technical, but you still felt as if you were in a pool and he was pulling you through its depths. His sugared skin blurred into the soft glow behind him and he leaned forward again, placing his lips to your neck. The feeling struck like a meteor against your skin, warming the spot and spreading outwards in a shock wave. Peace flooded your system as he moved down your neck, kissing again.

“What’s your poison?” he asked as he ground his hips against you.

“I’m flying with the golden dragon,” you smiled.

“How are the lights?”

“Rainbow prisms and you have trails of it following you.”

“How poetic,” he smirked.

He placed a searing kiss against your lips, and it felt as if your skin had melted through his arms and onto the floor. You were still holding your breath when he pulled away.

“Breathe.”

The sigh you let out had him pulling you closer against him.

“Can I take you to a room?”

These venues always had rooms. Or, Rooms™. You had never heard anyone talk about rooms so reverently than when you were here. There were several of them scattered about depending on the location. All were equipped with brand new mattresses, linens, sometimes drugs, low lights, and fashioned to be soundproof. Everyone only went to a room for one reason.

“Yes.” You were still holding onto to him for dear life. He grasped you firmly around the waist and led you off the dance floor and into the dark halls of the building. Several rooms were fitted with two, small fuzzy lights of red and green. Occupied and unoccupied. He finally reached one with a green light and pushed the door inwards. It emanated a soft pink from within. A pink neon heart hung on the wall above the mattress. To the left was a shiny, low table laid out with more drugs and alcohol, ready to be scanned and taken. Speakers in the room played the music still pumping into the room of dancers. An old Grimes song poured through the speakers lazily. His lips were on yours as the locked slid shut in the door. He pushed your jacket from your shoulders, and you let it fall to the floor. Caressing that perfect jawline, you pulled him in closer to you as you pushed his cap off with your other hand. His soft brown hair came cascading out over his eyes as he leaned in to kiss you. They were the softest lips you had ever felt to date. His tongue was hot against yours, claiming your mouth as his own. He expertly undid your belt and pants, hooked his thumbs in both them and your panties, sliding them down and kneeling as he went. The light from the neon sign spread around the room in a blur, washing the palette absolutely in pink. Below you, his hair had turned a dark pink with lighter highlights. His tan skin had the lightest dusting of that rosy tone as he looked up at you with dark eyes. His fingers dragged down your hips leaving trails of pink honey, left to drip down your skin in jagged ribbons. His lips were on your hipbone now, tongue trailing along your skin. He placed a kiss above your clit and flicked his tongue on the hood. You moaned softly as you moved your hips against him. He gently moved your lips apart to lick at you more fully. You reached for his hair and you swore you saw glitter fall from those pink strands. The music changed then, from the slow melody to a fast paced track that had your heart racing. He pushed your hips against the wall behind you hard and you felt your breath leave your chest in a huff. He started to devour you as if you were the drug he had chosen for the night, forgetting about his woes as he buried himself in your cunt. You tugged at his roots as you doubled over. The stimulation had your thighs shaking and your knees buckling. His fingers dug into your hips as he forced you over the edge quickly. The room burst into light, glowing bright, and you closed your eyes against the burn. You felt as if you stood under a waterfall, drenched from head to toe in pleasure. Somehow, he had you from against the wall to your back on the soft mattress with minimal movement. The taste of you flooded your taste buds as he kissed you. The heat between the two of you was scorching. You tugged at his shirt until he pulled it over his head, revealing a well-toned body. The top you wore was cropped and what was the use of a bra tonight, so it was easy for him to just push the thin fabric up your chest. He wrapped his lips around your nipple as he ran his fingers down your stomach, leaving paths of light. Pushing two fingers inside of you, he sighed. You wrapped him in such warmth and wetness that he couldn’t wait to feel more of you. You reached between the two of you and worked his pants over his ass, enough to free him and have him in your hand. He moaned against you as you wrapped for fingers around his length, silk against silk, pre cum leaking at its tip, and becoming harder in your touch. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that the walls were rotating slowly around the room. The heart slipped into your vision before moving back out, creating a pink spotlight on the both of you wherever it went.

“What do you see?” he whispered against your chest.

“Walls are rotating.” You hissed as he sucked your nipple between his teeth.

“Fast or slow?” he asked as your nipple grazed his teeth when he pulled back. Your chest heaved forward, chasing him on its own will before you let out a breath and sunk back among the sheets.

“Slow.”

“Good.” You knew what he was doing. He was keeping your mood as calm as possible, having you focus on the pleasure and the absolute happiness coursing your veins. He knew exactly what he was working with.

Your hand fell from him as he sat up, but his fingers stayed firmly inside of you. He twisted them and hooked his fingers against your g-spot and pumped slowly. He managed to kick his pants off the rest of the way and sat up between your legs. Looking down, he was admiring what was laid out before him. Reaching out he grabbed your hand and pulled you to sitting. The walls rotated a little faster for a second before settling back into that steady rhythm. It was almost hypnotic, watching the neon heart travel the edge of the room.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes fixed on his and they shined just as bright as earlier. They were clear as night; small slivers of pink shown like tiny Milky Ways in their black depths. He looked at you as if the moon shown down on you and you alone. His fingers were out of you now, squeezing your thigh. He caressed your cheek sweetly as he brought your face to his. Your lips chased his as he moved back slowly, smiling as he went. His warm hand never left your cheek as he kept a breath’s distance away from you.

“What’s your name?” he whispered.

“_____.”

“_____.” He let your name roll off his tongue seductively and it fell out of his mouth like diamonds.

“Yours?” you were still fixated on his eyes; the pink Milky Way had grown brighter the closer it got.

“Hoseok.”

“Hoseoook.” You giggled lightly at the way it sounded coming from you.

His smile was bright, and he seemed to glow in the fuchsia monotony of the room.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice like caramel.

You did and started to get on your hands when he spoke.

“No, no, no. Sit up.”

You turned your head to look at him. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer until you felt his cock nestled in your ass cheeks. More of the pink honey cascaded across your skin as he ran his hands across your chest. One of his hands was between your legs from behind, pushing you upwards. You felt him nudging at your entrance and, adjusting yourself, you sat down. He gasped as you sunk down, your body taking him in as if he always belonged there. He kissed along your shoulder as you moved your hips, his fingers pressed firmly into your skin.

The music was a low pulse with a synth playing a slow tune accompanied by some electronic drumbeats. The neon heart was just sliding into view again when you closed your eyes. Your movements felt slow, but everything felt so good. He kissed the back of your neck as he too started to move. You gasped when he thrust up into you, while barely letting you move with his firm grip on your hip. His name fell from your lips in soft moans and you heard him sigh in satisfaction. When you opened your eyes again you saw geometric patterns of random pulsing color decorate the still turning walls. Your body was strung like a bow, tense, and you refused to breathe. He brought you closer and closer with each thrust and your pussy felt as if it were getting hotter. When your orgasm hit, so did the full force of the hallucinogen. What you weren’t expecting was the explosion of neon animals that now rotated around the room, but they weren’t just any and all animals, there was a wide array of sea creatures swimming around you as if in an aquarium. A neon great white swam by followed closely by a sea turtle and a school of small fish.

“What do you see?” he was still thrusting into you steadily as he spoke.

“Neon octopus…and fish.”

“Do you feel good?”

Your eyes closed, letting the cool water you believed was there to wash over you.

“So good,” you whispered.

He moved you from his lap, rotating you lithely, and he was soon hovering over you. Behind his shoulder and across the ceiling swam a large neon whale, but you weren’t focused on it right now. Hoseok was above you, studying your face intently as he bit his bottom lip. He slid into you with you barely noticing his movements, so he didn’t miss the way your eyes widened before slipping shut, mouth open in ecstasy as he worked you open again. He was up on his hands so he could still watch you writhe beneath him and the expressions on your face.

He leaned down again after a moment, propped up on his elbow, and his lips were at your ear. “I want you to see the universe.”

He reached down, two fingers on your clit as he rotated his hips into you. Fresh tears welled up in your eyes and your body warmed from within. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he expertly worked his cock and fingers in tandem. A scream was trapped in your throat as you came, and your eyes opened as it peaked. You could see that he was still watching your face but behind him, the scene had changed. The room from the floor to about four feet was unchanged. The rest had turned into the night sky and what you would have described the Big Bang to look like. Explosions of color flashed before your eyes as stars formed and died out. Green, pink, and blue gases hovered around a small Milky Way. Comets passed by and so did passing constellations. You felt as if you were seeing a symphony personified, the music of the universe laid out before you.

When you came down and was able to focus somewhere else, you looked at him again. You no longer felt him inside of you. Reaching for his arm you looked at him alarm.

“What about you?” The stars twinkled behind him, moving slowly across the night sky.

He smiled. “What did you see?”

The way he looked at you made you think he could see the stars reflected in your eyes, content to view the night sky and still be able to look at you.

“So many stars.” Your eyes searched his as you spoke. “Everywhere. Stars.”

He smiled at you as you looked at what he could not see.

“You never told me your poison.”

He smirked coyly before speaking. “I didn’t take anything. I did this for you, and I wanted to remember.”

No one ever came to these parties sober. They all came here to forget, so what was he doing?

“What?”

“I’ve been coming to these parties for months. How you haven’t noticed me I don’t know.”

You wanted to know why you hadn’t seen him either.

“But why?”

“I’ve seen your misery. Those moments before the drugs hit, I see you. Then you move to music like it comes from inside of you. But when the parties were over you didn’t look nearly as satisfied with the night as the others did.”

He was right. The weight and misery of the world always weighed heavy somewhere. The increase in drugs never helped fully, but it did help you cope.

“I wanted you to feel something for once.”

Your heart thudded hard in your chest. You realized that the anxiety usually thrashing in the corner of your mind had been told to stay quiet. Suddenly, everything didn’t feel so bad. The stars still steadily floated by.

“Thank you for letting me see the universe.”

“Thank you for letting me see that these parties aren’t the only thing that can make me feel.”

Leaving as the sun came up, he stepped out of the building at your side. The bright yellow of morning was peaking over the mountains and you looked up at Hoseok beside you. He seemed at peace as he gazed over the sleeping valley below. No, the future was not fine as they had promised but there were still people in the world that made it feel that way.

#bts smut #bts au #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #trigger warning: drug use #trigger warning: hallucinations #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #reader insert #dystopian!au #hoseok

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