#and i instantly want to walk into the fog never to be seen again

[aklaustaleteller]

An Unofficial Date

Klaus has had a certain starry-eyed girl on his mind, so when he walks into a museum, not at all with the hope of finding her inside, he can't help but strike up a conversation, which might've just led to Y/n agreeing to see him again.

Warnings - none that I can think of!

Word Count - 1.6k

Masterlist | Please reblog the work to share!

Been writing something that has had me researching left, right, and center! So I thought that while I worked on that one, I'd write a quick little something to freshen up a tad. Hope you enjoy a giddy Klaus hahah!

On a random, foggy Tuesday morning, Klaus found himself taking a quick stroll to the new Art Museum that had appeared out of nowhere in Mystic Falls. Well, for him anyways, for he hadn't come across the building in the months that he had been existing in the small town.

But one couldn't fault him for that, seeing that he had been so busy messing with a group of teenagers, or rather – with a couple of centuries old vampires, a newborn werewolf, and even a newfound witch, should he say.

But what took up most of his time was this starry-eyed girl with whom his eyes always seemed to meet whenever they were in the same room. That was all he got, though. The chance to look into her eyes for a fleeting second before she was shifting her gaze onto something else, leaving him breathless and wanting for more.

He never caught her name, or even a smile. Each time he saw her, he had been in search for a muse. And each time, she succeeded in sending a surge of creativity flowing through his entire being that consumed him so fully that he would race home and embrace that rush of adrenaline until he needed more.

Then, he would go out to steal another glance at her. The problem was, he hadn't been seeing her around for a week now. And he was anxious that she might've left the town, for she was the type of person whose absence went unnoticed for all but those who'd even once shared her company.

So, he felt a bit hopeful since he hadn't heard of Damon or Bonnie complaining about their loss of time with her. But he was also dreadful, wanting nothing more than to meet with her again knowing that this time he wouldn’t miss the chance to speak to her.

If Klaus had to be honest, he'd confess that the sole reason he was even heading to the museum was because he had a feeling that this could be one of the places he'd find her.

On his walk, he came across wildflowers and rose bushes, a couple of pinecones and a odd looking lemon tree, that stood lonely in midst of all the fog that had settled around it. And Klaus wondered if she paid attention to such details, if he should pick out a rose in case he did come across her? But he settled on not doing that, since that would surely give him away instantly.

He strolled through the corridors, sparing each art piece a single glance because he couldn't feel the emotions of looking at them for the first time and the curiousity of trying to unwind the stories in them due to his ages old knowledge that proved the collection in this museum to be quite poor.

There were a few people inside, a few dreamers scattered throughout the place, either sitting on the floor, sketching out what they could see in the painting or standing as if trying to count the stars, their eyes set on complicated pieces that pretentiously twisted the wires of their brains.

His eyes were wandering, and he was people watching now, rather than looking at the art that hung in frames. Which is how, there was a stutter in the search of his eyes when he caught sight of someone sitting against a wall opposite a painting, dressed in something quite vintage with a bowl of blackberries in their lap. A smile threatened to slip on his mouth.

He suppressed it though, looking at the ground to wait-out the disappearance of his blush before he squared his shoulders.

"Hello there," Klaus smiled, looking down at her and nodding when he had her attention. "Think I've seen you around?"

She broke a smile then, a small frown settling between her brows. "Hi, and …think I’ve witnessed a couple instances myself!" She laughed, her palm twitching awkwardly as she battled whether she should continue to eat, offer him some or wipe her stained hands on her thrifted dress.

She offered him to sit beside her instead, and then offered him her snack.

"Why thank you," Klaus murmured, his heart racing inside his chest the moment he caught a whiff of her perfume.

"I'm Niklaus, by the way."

She looked at him intriguingly, swallowing as she nodded to herself. "That's a nice name," she admitted. "Any meaning behind it?"

Klaus looked away, pretending to look at the painting in front of them in order to hide the sudden blood-rush to his face.

"Yes, yes it does," he said. "It comes from a Greek word, um, Nikolaos, I think? Means victory of the people."

"Well, I'm Y/n," she extended her clean hand out and Klaus shook it, electricity coursing through his being.

He sighed and locked his arms around his knees.

"So, Y/n," he tasted her name on his tongue and right away, wanted more of it. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing special, been writing a thesis lately. Came here for a break and some change of scenery," she shrugged.

"A thesis?" Klaus asked, feeling intrigued and when she nodded nonchalantly, he felt baffled. "On what, if you don't mind me asking?"

She was smiling bashfully now, looking down at the remaining blackberries. "You'll laugh," she said.

"And why would that be?"

She clenched her eyes shut. "Because it's on hotels," she raced to say, peeking at him with one eye to see his reaction. He wasn't laughing so she looked at him properly, dumbfounded, noting that his expression was the same as before, if not more interested.

"Tell me more about it," Klaus asked, leaning his head on his knee to look at her.

She was blushing, and Klaus made a mental note to try and get the shade right on his canvas when he went back home.

"Well, it's going to be a tangent, so don't complain, okay?" She looked at him warily. He blinked softly, urging her on and she felt something shift between them.

"You asked for this," she sighed, and he chuckled, picking up another berry as she turned so that she was facing him, sitting cross-legged with a straight back.

She went on then, and Klaus was absorbing every single word that she was saying along with her wild hand-gestures that he felt like were going to hit him at some point. He noticed the sparkle in her eyes doubling-up as she talked about something she clearly felt passionate about.

Her cheeks had grown slightly red, and her mouth was stained by the blackberries. She mentioned how she had an even softer spot for haunted houses and hotels, making him grin with her.

It felt vulnerable for some reason, and Klaus' heart felt like it was growing inside of his chest.

She was spilling for him all of the research she had done so far, and it was admirable how well she was doing at explaining to him all of it. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to look at the hotels the same way again, knowing now the way she looked at them.

And he knew that he was going to pester her again sometime and ask her about the gold chain that she wore, in the middle of which hung a glass globe that held something in the shape of a star preserved inside it. He had a feeling that everything that adorned her body held some meaning to it for her. 

"And I think that's all I've got on it, so far anyways," she finished with a deep breath, looking at him with a big grin on her face. She had lipstick on her bottom teeth, or maybe it was just the berrie’s stain; Klaus looked away.

"I think I have a newfound soft-spot for hotels now," Klaus sighed, straightening his back and leaning against the wall, craning his neck to look at her.

"I'm so very glad to hear that," she chuckled. "My apologies for talking your ear off, but hey, you asked for it!"

"I've got a feeling that I might ask for it again," he winked, and she looked away immediately, the corners of her mouth lifted up.

"Can't be now because I need to get going," she shrugged, checking her wristwatch whose leather band was beginning to wither off.

"Sure, think I wasted some of your time there," grinning sheepishly, Klaus rubbed the back of his neck.

But she laughed as she packed away her book and the empty container back into her bag. "No, Klaus, thank you for listening," she said, genuinely.

"Anytime," Klaus muttered shyly, watching as she got up and waved him goodbye.

Klaus waved back with a wistful smile, watching her walk away when he suddenly realised.

"When will I see you again?" He shouted, ignoring the incredulous looks he got from the strangers. He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged when she turned around to look at him with wide eyes.

"I love taking evening walks around the neighbourhood," she said at a normal volume, and Klaus heard her just right.

He was going to be delusional and tell him himself that today had been an unofficial date, maybe he'd ask her out for an official one when he saw her the next time.

He nodded at her, giving her a salute as he rolled on the toe and then the heels of his feet, grinning shamelessly as she laughed and walked away, sparing him one last glance before turning around the corner, out of his sight but not once out of his mind.

[echowilds]

.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐔𝐛𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: a long awaited cross over that I promised months ago.. please do not hate me! Also, Danes = vikings, but the word viking is also a verb. So, you could say 'Hey Ma I'm off to go viking!'.

Saxons = those from England

Celts are an umbrella term for Native Britons who were here before the Saxons.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

It didn't make sense.

Ubbe's shoes walked the length of the boat and back again. Creaking wherever he put his feet, the wind was howling. Even during the day. With the sun high in the sky; not that he could see it.

None of the men or women could see more than five feet in front of them. Once he, along with two other ships left Kattegat, the mist had surrounded them.

Ubbe had the mind to turn back, but he couldn't see the shorline of Kattegat. Only the thick whirls of fog surrounding the boats.

What would have been a long journey, was shortened to mere seconds. And Ubbe was in a place he did not wish to be.

It was a place where his father had died. Where a many great Viking men had died.

But something was different. The time, Ubbe knew it; years had passed somehow. Many, many years. And when he took 4 men into a tavern to investigate, he asked and was told.

Ubbe and his men had gone through 100 years on the water.

・Life had gotten better since Uhtred and his men frequented your village - hell, everywhere had gotten better; not only were the raids less and less.

・But safety and hope were two words that Uhtred of Bebbanberg gave the people

・Well, Uhtred along with his three men - Finan, Sihtric & Osferth.

・You always had a crush on Finan. His Irish charm and humour always brightened your day.

・But he had never ventured for more than conversation and company

・You thought he must have an eye on someone else, but news never reached your ears about anyone else.

・And then something happened.

・Two ships full of Danes had washed on Englands' shores. It was not like any other raid. The Danes spoke differently, their weapons seemed old and the way they dressed was so ... incredibly different to the Danes you all knew

・Where did they come from? Why hadn't any other Dane claimed to know them? And why couldn't they point to where they were from on a map?

・These thoughts plagude you for days. You did your chores and you thought about it, you cooked and cleaned - and thought about it.

・However, curiosity won out and you snuck into the woods to get a better look at the semi-prisoners.

・One man caught your eye instantly.

・And he ...

・He was ... beautiful.

・Outlandishly so, you hadn't seen such a man and with so many unique tattoos...

・His hair was long and braided, parts shaved on the sides and you were taken aback.

・A blush creeping so bright you swore he would be able to see you in the dark - like a beacon of sorts

・But a body had bumped against your own, a hand over your mouth. You bit down - hard and Osferth hissed

"Ow!" He said, trying to keep his voice low as he flung his hand about in pain.

"Well don't do that!" You whispered incredulously.

"What are you staring at?" whispered Osferth, crouching down and following your line of sight.

"No-nothing, nothing, stop it-"

"Ooh got your eye on somethin' then?" he mocked.

・You rolled your eyes and pushed him. He caught your arm and hoisted himself up, catching you against him in the process.

・This back and forth behaviour was normal between you and Osferth. As soon as you met, it had started.

・He knows about your feelings for Finan, and has helped you to gain his attention time and time again

・The only failure in this was the fact that he didn't want to put you at risk. Finan couldn't bear to have you as some sort of target.

・But god did that change when Ubbe started talking to you.

・You decided to help around with the new Danes

・Your skills were highly renound and useful no matter who you were with

・Ubbe did everything he could to get your attention and soon Finan became a shell of his witty self.

・Grouchy and sensitive, Finan couldn't stop watching the two of you interract.

"I mean wha' does she see in 'im??"

"- Finan, please-" Uhtred interjected, trying to calm him down. He did not calm down.

"Just tell her how you feel-" Sihtric exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I - I cannot."

"You cannot what?" You said coming up behind him, the trees and darkness hiding you easily.

・From that day on you and Finan were together, but the subject of Ubbe hung loosely in the air.

・However, your relationship was changed because of Ubbe. Who shocked both you and Finan.

"It is true, I want you. But I want both of you. The funny one as well."

・Finan gulped.

・Your relationship is very loving. It truly is.

・There's a lot of PDA

・But even more affection when people aren't around

・Like casually sitting on each other's laps

・Forehead Touches

・The union between all three of you created something. It was peace.

・Peace settled over the group, a sense of ease becoming easier and easier to grasp.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Shut Up” (You) x “Make Me” (Ubbe) x “Just Kiss Already.” (Finan)

Found Family

Intuitive & Attentive (Finan) x Restless & Flirty (Ubbe) x Witty & Intuitive (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Intertwined Destinies

Love Transcending Boundaries

Legacy and Legend

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Scotland by the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra

Golden Years by David Bowie

To Bring You My Love by PJ Harvey

[kybercrystals94]

Might

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 2 | Prompt: Injured

Rated: G | Words: 511

“Caf?” Hunter asks one morning, holding out a thick mug.

With a hum, Crosshair reaches for it, the dregs of sleep still fogging his mind.

Hunter pulls the mug back, wincing, as he says, “Uh, sorry. Uhm…other hand, Cross.”

Crosshair looks down at his outstretched hand and sees that it is missing, phantom fingers reaching and flexing. He drops his arm. “I don’t want caf,” he mutters, turning away, the flame of embarrassment burning across his face.

“I’ll just leave it on the counter if you change your mind,” Hunter says.

But Crosshair won’t change his mind. He’s already tugging on his boots and walking out the door.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, but the cool, damp air almost instantly soothes the scorching humiliation of his absentmindedness. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so intensely, why it feels like an abrasive lapse of memory. He’d seen Echo deal with the same, exact issue as he acclimated to the loss of his own limbs after his rescue from Skako Minor. He’d never thought Echo ridiculous or idiotic for it. In fact, he’d admired the reg’s tenacity, how quickly he corrected and adapted.

And yet, here is Crosshair, refusing a cup of caf because he used the wrong hand to claim it.

“Crosshair, wait up!” Omega’s voice floats behind him. He stops, but doesn’t turn, listening as her running steps get closer, tangled with the sound of Batcher’s thundering gallop. Omega trots to a stop at his left side and slips her hand into his. “Can we walk with you?”

“I’m not going anywhere…just walking,” he says.

Omega smiles up at him. “Perfect.”

He shoves his right wrist in his jacket pocket as they walk, and he can almost pretend his hand is still there, hidden from sight.

Batcher lumbers ahead, leading them down to the beach. The hound stops every little while to look back at them, making sure her shadows are still nearby. Omega swings their arms playfully, singing a soft, hummed tune that Crosshair recognizes from the docks. A melody sung by the fishermen.

“Can I help with the specs for your prosthetic?” Omega asks suddenly.

Crosshair frowns. “My what?”

“Your prosthetic,” Omega says again, patiently. “Can I help design it?”

“I’m not getting a prosthetic,” Crosshair says icily.

Omega is looking up at him, he can see her expression crumble out the corner of his eye, but he won’t look at her. He swallows, glancing away, and hiding his face entirely.

“That’s okay if you don’t want one,” Omega says after a moment, “I just thought you might.”

Omega doesn’t hum or swing his arm the rest of the way to the beach. As soon as their boots touch the sand, she chases after Batcher, laughing as the hound crashes into the surf.

Crosshair finds a piece of driftwood log to sit on and watches them play. He takes his right wrist out of his pocket and tries to imagine it with an artificial hand. He doesn’t know if he wants that.

But he might.

END

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[misseviehyde]

INFLUENCED

Bryan sometimes wondered if he should have told his daughter Sarah about his plan to help her with her bullying problem - but by now it was far too late.

It wasn't like there was much of Bryan left anyway. Beckie had seen to that.

It had all started a few weeks ago when Sarah had come home in tears again. She told her Dad that she was being emotionally manipulated and abused by a brat in her class, Beckie.

Beckie wasn't like the other girls. She was... better. She had bigger tits, blonder hair, more expensive clothes and makeup. In short she was a total bully - and like all bullies she enjoyed having a victim to humiliate.

That victim was Sarah. Beckie had correctly identified that the pink haired goth girl would be an easy target. She undermined Sarah at every chance and mocked her for being different.

At first the other girls around them seemed uncomfortable, but none of them said or did anything. Some of them had been friends with Sarah for a long time - but their silence was deafening.

That didn't last long. Beckie had a strange influence on others. Gradually at first, but increasingly rapidly they began to change. They began to dress like Beckie, talk like Beckie - even starting to join in her bullying.

It was like some evil hive mind had taken control of the girls and made them think and act just like Beckie.

They began to get boob jobs and wear tight skirts and tiny tops. They dumped their boyfriends and began to fuck black guys only. High heels and boots replaced comfortable trainers and shoes. Attitudes became troublesome, arrogance grew and bit by bit they became empty souless brats who loved to tease and lead on all the boys

All except Sarah who was left isolated and tormented. Beckie and her goons were now everywhere and Sarah didn't even want to go to college anymore.

That's why Bryan decided to have it out with Beckie. This couldn't go on.

He didn't tell Sarah his plan - not that it was much of a plan. Just go and confront Beckie, get her to leave his daughter alone.

He drove over to the luxurious condo where Beckie and her rich divorced Mom (four husbands) lived. There was a pink Landrover parked on the drive and a giant swimming pool at the back.

Banging on the door Bryan was relieved when Beckie opened it. She was wearing a tiny LA Boutine bikini set and her long blonde hair fell wantonly over her shoulders. It was hard to read her expression thanks to the mirror shades she wore.

"What the fuck do you want?" she yawned boredly examining a long bejewelled manicured nail.

"I want you to leave my daughter Sarah alone!" grunted Bryan in what he hoped was an intimidated way.

Beckie's whole demeanour changed as she realised who he was. Her lips twitched into a naughty smile and her blue eyes twinkled excitedly as she tore off her shades. It wasn't the reaction he had expected.

"Nooooo fucking way! This is so cool. Get in here."

Giggling excitedly, Beckie yanked Bryan into the house. Sliding her small sexy hand into his she lead him inside and he dazedly followed.

A pink fog seemed to instantly descend around Bryan. Rational decisions and thoughts became sluggish and hard. A dreamlike quality now surrounded the day and Bryan found himself going along with his daughters bully.

"What did you say your name was? Bailey?"

"No, Bryan," he croaked weakly.

"I prefer Bailey. Beckie and Bailey sounds a lot hotter right Bailey?"

Bailey blinked. He didn't know why but it made a lot of sense. Yes, Bailey was a much better name.

"So Bailey, does Sarah know you're here?"

"No, I didn't tell anyone."

"Fuck yeah, this is perfect. None of those bitches have quite got what it takes to be my bestie. I was wondering which of them to fully transform, but now you just walked out of the blue and gave me the perfect answer. If no one knows you came here, they'll never find you once we're done."

Bailey blinked. He didn't know what the fuck Beckie was talking about.

"What the hell are you talking a..."

"First rule Bailey. You NEVER interrupt me when I'm talking and you never question me. Whatever I say you go along with, right? That's what besties like you are for! I'm the hot one and you're my sexy little shadow. You don't have any opinions of your own, you just copy mine."

Bailey blinked and his mouth clamped shut. Besties? What the fuck was this demented bitch talking about? Still he should probably do as she said. She probably knew best. In fact Beckie seemed really cool and hot. He bet her opinions were much better than his.

"Second rule is we always dress to impress. I need to get out of this bikini and we need to get you in some decent clothes. Come upstairs with me now."

Bailey followed Beckie up to her bedroom. The pink fog was stronger now. It was like the longer he was in her presence, the easier it was to go along with what she wanted.

"You're obviously not as strong minded as your daughter anyway. The influence doesn't seem to work very well on her. Not that I care so long as it affects everyone else. I'm the best right?"

Bailey just nodded stupidly and said, "Yes Beckie."

"Well you seem very susceptible which is pretty hot. Seeing as you're going to be my bestie I'll tell you about it. I don't know how or why but I was born with a power. I call it the influence. It let's me change reality and people around me. I always get the things that I want eventually. People just change to match my expectations. Those losers at college are all well on the way to being popular girls like me, but it can take time. When I really want something though the influence gets more powerful."

Bailey nodded along, "Wow, that sounds hot Beckie."

"It is hot. It's so fucking hot. It makes me feel like a God. Right now Bailey I've never wanted anything so much as to turn you from that losers nice kind Daddy into my evil, bitchy bestie. Just look at how fast the influence is working. Look down."

Bailey looked down. Whilst he had been talking to Beckie he hadn't noticed how tingly his body had been. He gasped. His male clothes now hung loose and baggy over his body which had shrunk to nearly half the size. He was an inch shorter than Beckie now and his arms and legs seemed stick thin. His tummy was as flat as a washboard and all his body hair was gone.

"Take off those stupid fucking clothes - you look dumb. We need to get you into a new outfit right now.

Bailey didn't object as Beckie helped him out of his clothes. He noticed his skin looked younger. His hands were now more delicate and his feet were tiny. His whole body felt like a dolls. He looked down and gawped at his crotch. His dick was... it was gone!

"What are you staring at Bailey? Haven't you ever seen a pussy before. Kind of weird seeing as you're a girl."

Bailey frowned and she shook her head - but it was hopeless to fight the influence. Of course she was a girl. She had always been a girl.

Grabbing Bailey's hand Beckie pulled her into her bathroom and shoved her in front of the mirror. Bailey gasped at the vision in front of her.

A beautiful girl with small but perfect tits, a perky ass and long dark hair was looking back at her.

"Look how pretty you are Bailey. You're worthy to be my bestie. Now let's get you into a bodystocking and fix that makeup."

Bailey loved feeling Beckie's skillful fingers fix her lipstick, mascara and foundation. "Of course you know how to do all this right?" smirked Beckie. "Show me... you try."

Bailey took the brush from her besties hands and skillfully continued to apply her makeup as if she had done it all her life.

It felt like she was replacing her old personality and thoughts as she applied more makeup. Being feminine felt so good.

"Good girl, you look so hot! Now the third rule is that being a bitch always feels good. From now on you are going to be a bully. Being my bestie means you have to be just as mean and as cruel as I am."

"Yes Beckie, that sounds hot," giggled Bailey as she felt her morals melt away.

"Then say it," gloated Beckie.

"Being a bitch always feels good. I'm cruel and mean and I like it."

As she said the words Bailey felt her nipples get hard and her pussy getting wet.

"And who's the biggest loser we know?" hissed Beckie with evil glee. "Who deserves to get bullied every day?"

"S... Sarah?" guessed Bailey, feeling a flash of guilt that then faded to never return.

"That's right. Doesn't it feel good to know you're better than her? What does she mean to you?"

"N...nothing... she means nothing. I fucking hate her. I want to bully and humiliate her for being such a skank."

Bailey giggled as the words oozed out of her mouth. Yessss this is what she wanted. Wasn't it?

Beckie lifted Bailey back off the bed and walked her to the mirror.

"Very good. Now tell me... who are you?"

"Me? I'm Bailey your bestie and I love being a fucking brat. I hate Sarah and I share all your opinions."

Part of Bailey suddenly rebelled... a bit of her that was shrinking fast. She groaned and gripped her head. "Noooo you can't stop me, this is my body now. I'm Bailey and I love it."

Giggling Beckie slid a long glass dildo into her besties hands. "Don't worry babe, it's just the last part of your old pysche trying to fight back. Make yourself cum and he'll give in forever. My influence is too strong!"

Lying on the bed, Bailey unpopped her lingerie and exposing her tight pussy slowly slid the dildo inside.

"I'm a... unnnnff bitch, I'm a bully I ooooohhh hate Sarah."

Pump. Pump. Pump.

Wet squelches filled the air and the sounds of panting moans as Bailey pleasured her new body and the final barriers to her mind began to break down to Beckie's obscene influence.

"That's it. You're just like me now Bailey. You're a rich, mean, popular slut. You will never escape my influence."

"Yesssss I'm a rich slut and I'm a oooooh fucking bitch. I'm a BIIIIITTTTTCHHHH!"

Bailey screamed and yanked the dildo out as her pussy throbbed and she began to squirt. Her brain went white hot as her new personality and thoughts locked forever.

She was such a bitch and she loved it.

Beckie stroked her hair and giggled. "Don't worry, my influence will give you a new identity. Everyone will falsely remember you've always been my bestie. Well everyone except Sarah. We're going to have so much fun together babe..."

**********

Sarah cried as her Mom tried to comfort her. Bryan had been missing for weeks now and the police couldn't provide any answers. She'd barely slept, barely eaten. No one could find even a trace of him.

Her Mom had taken her out for coffee and they were sat outside in the sunshine when she saw her bullies approaching.

Beckie and Bailey laughed and giggled to each other as they passed, saying something mean. Bailey dropped a note as she passed and despite herself Sarah picked it up.

It was a scrumpled missing note - one of the ones she'd put up everywhere. It showed Bryan and offered a reward for information about his disappearance.

Someone had written in lipstick on the note.

"Your Daddy hates you so he left home. You're a fucking loser."

Sarah felt more tears come as she saw the mean girls laughing at her reaction. In their centre a gloating Beckie smiled approvingly at her protegee Bailey.

She really was a great influence on the bitch...

The End

[missmarveledsblog]

LEAD ME TO YOU PART TWO

Summary: while eddie is gathering his shit together the past becomes too much for reader

Warnings: PTSD , flashbacks , angst , fluffy

Nervous was probably mildly putting how eddie felt , confessions of love or even interest never went well . Once a girl said she loved God too much back in high-school and only time he did get laid was in secret. This was whole new territory especially when it was one of the most important people in his life to. He stayed in living room almost taking it in one last time putting the movie in absentmindedly just as she walked into the room .

" what we watching or still a surprise" she asked smile on her face not a real one he could tell instantly.

" what's wrong , don't give me shit about its nothing spill it pretty girl" he said pausing it.

" it's just three years ago today we got out of the upside down" she sighed.

" almost gave wayne a heart attack, shit it's been that long already" he shook his head.

" I never thought I was getting out of there" she smiled sadly.

" shit sorry I didn't think we can do something else sweetheart" he held her hand hoping she didn't notice him wiping the sweat from them beforehand .

" no the movie will be good which are you going to tell me" she asked.

" come on lets just watch" he winked hitting play .

" it's a surprise" he added only leaving out it was surprise for himself hoping harrinton didn't give him some creeps porn stack returns.

" ok let watch" she smiled brighter as the movie started . Eddie was never religious bar his usually blasphemy taking lords name in vain was as far as it went but now he was thanking Mary jesus Joseph and that ass that carried them .

The opening as the old man holding the pocket watch telling the kids ghost stories around the open flame. He could give a shit what was happening just the fact he didn't fuck it up or steve fucking him up . While eddie was enjoying his slight win as the movie progressed the woman to his side was anything but the moment the colours faded she was trapped instantly in a living nightmare . Movie she'd seen a few times now had reality flickering into a place she never wanted to see again . Her apartment seemly draining of its colour fog and dust adding to the now gloom environment. She was calling for help almost screaming yet same time she was paralyzed in fear. Breathing picking up ,she couldn't hear anything all sense in her body felt like she was back there.

He heard her breathing first that hitch of breathe that made him chuckle ready to taunt her.

" hey your not.... hey what's wrong princess come on" he called only she stared forward glassy eyes and fear on her face. A familiar sight and yet was so different to venca's curse . Whatever was going on he knew it was human or least he hoped it was. She wasn't answering him. He ran but not away he ran to her phone almost slamming into the thing .

"hey family video where all your ...".

" harrington I need your help man" .

" i'm not leaving work to get you condoms man" he chuckled.

" it's y/n something wrong man I can't ... she's not responding" he rambled in his panicked state.

" what do you mean y/n not responding ... oh shit" Steve curse followed by a struggle.

" munson what's wrong with my kid" hoppers voice rang.

" she's sitting staring at nothing scared I can't get her to respond , it not drugs before you say it".

" i'm on my way" was all he heard before the line went dead .

It wasn't that long til door open hopper and steve coming in as nancy , jonathan Robin and Joyce followed after.

" living room" he called as they came in looking as he held her hand rubbing her face.

" we were watching the movie and she just went like this" his voice filled with fear as movie kept playing.

" shut it off ... hey sweetheart it's dad , come on follow my voice " hopper called crouching before her knowing exactly what was wrong . Back when they were found first Dr Owens spoke of will having ptsd he listened knowing the girls would also be going through it .

" put radio on it might help" nancy spoke up as eddie rushed and sounds of Metallica blared through the apartment.

" come on baby girl, fuck sake munson real music not this shit " hopper yelled.

" hey this is real music" he countered.

" dad" her voice rang out .

" hey yeah it's me" he smiled sadly wiping her tears .

" oh dad I thought I was back there" she sobbed . " the movie then fog" she babbled through her tears .

" shit I didn't know sorry sweetheart" eddie felt the guilt hitting him instantly . " I gave it to him" Steve huffed .

" no ones faults it happens" joyce patted their shoulders.

" I should of checked" eddie looked over as she held onto hopper afraid to let go . " I should of warned you also the dude that rents that well not on cinematic movies he watches" Steve winced .

" great I could of traumatised her with porn too" eddie whined as Joyce looked at two men.

" I needed advice and she was coming out so steve gave me stack of videos" he explained .

" I checked the receipt and seen" Steve added .

"Porn would of been better" he huffed only for a clearing of a throat ." harrington gave it to me sir , chief Jim, Mr hopper ... please don't kill me or send me to jail im too pretty " eddie gulped.

" she wants space so let go ... except you" he finally said looking at eddie . " call me if you need me" Joyce kissed her head . " us too" nancy hugged her. " sorry for traumatising you" Steve winced .

He closed the door as she stared up at her ceiling .

" hey how you feeling " he asked slowly walking over.

" sorry I ruined our night we can watch a different movie like" she grabbed the bag before he could even warn her. Eyes widening at the titles when she looked up at her best friend. " why do you have a bag of porn" she hiccuped.

" oh god tonight was a disaster not cause of you by the way that was my fault" he chuckled flopping down beside her making the little smile appear on her face.

" doesn't explain the porn pal" she snorted. " that's on harrington , big boy grabbed a random pile" he laughed . " who's watching the fog and a time to thrill" she laughed louder at the title making his inside turn to goo at the sound.

" hey princess that is a classic , a" he gasped making her laugh harder pushing him playfully . " why the abuse my dearest princess it's for an acquired taste" he held his hands up. " I am sorry for the first one though If I knew I wouldn't have" he said more seriously.

" it's fine I mean it's not your fault at all blame the lab and shit for that one" she smiled weakly.

" no if I wasn't so concerned on advice to tell you how I feel and actually looked at what I was taking you wouldn't had that attack thing pretty sure im going to jail or dead with your dad too " he winced unaware through his rambles what he has said. " a trigger movie and porn jesus maybe i should go to jail" he added.

" how you feel ?" she asked softly making him freeze.

" who said that?" he played dumb unable to even look at her and considering maybe jail was good .

" don't play dumb" she rolled her eyes.

" ok well .. yeah here it goes you can do it munson don't look at me... I've been in love with you probably since the moment I met you and I didn't know how to tell you so I went to the biggest hopeless romantic I know, harrington told me just to be myself and I did which resulted in your having a panic attack and a bag of porn" he dryly chuckled.

"Like love me more than a friend?".

" more than a friend but understandable if you want to get a restraining order" he joked trying to get his heart to calm the fuck down . Before he could even think of moving her lips crashed against his , it took him a minute to process the action but once his brain caught up he completely melted in his spot holding her close to him .

" I love you too ... more than a best friend" she smiled head on his shoulder .

" shit maybe I did die " he held his fingers on his pulse.

" you didn't die asshole" she rolled her eyes head lifting to see him smiling wider than ever pretty sure his cheeks would spilt.

" I gotta be asleep and dreaming then ... oww" he yelped as she pinched his arm.

" nope not sleeping" she batted her lashes.

" oh you little shit " he pounced on her caging her to the sofa below as his large frame cast over her. Her eyes looked up playful energy long gone as she looked at him in admiration and love.

" you know something that one man show made me find my way to the trailer park , ever since then I play that song constantly because that song lead me to the best part of my life , that song lead me to you " she said before her lips where on his .

[princessimotep]

Tienes Mi Corazón - Chapter 9

~*~ 18+ content below. Minors do not interact. Spicy spicy hot content. ~*~

The days seemed brighter; the nights more comforting since Javier’s awakening. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the other gang members how empty Miriam’s tent was as of late. She would spend most of her time by Javier’s side, tending to his needs and cares. The only times she would return to her own tent would be the early hours of the morning to get a few hours sleep before being woken up by Tilly, warning her of Miss Grimshaw’s brewing wrath. Despite losing sleep over her additional responsibility, she did not mind for it meant she could be with him.

Each day that would pass by, Javier got better. Stronger. More himself. It pondered on Miriam’s mind if Javier even remembered what he had said to her in those early hours of that morning. Or if he was even speaking from a sane state of mind. Perhaps he was delirious? His mind on another plain. Or… thinking of someone else? It would ache the young woman’s heart; the very thought of him loving another. The reality that he once doted on another female, going as far as to kill a powerful man over her. At the time, Javier’s words felt true and honest yet since the days had passed, crossing from day to night in a continuous loop; doubt began to fog her mind. To her, it was possible that his words may have been intended for someone else. That distant woman from his rebellious past.

She dared not to ask him. At least for now, she wanted to enjoy the moments she spent close by his side. Miriam remained true to her promise; never giving up on him until her dying breath. Clarification could come later. Now, seeing him recover, begin to smile again, laugh, eat and drink was all she could care about.

Javier found his evenings with Miriam in his tent to be his most treasured part of the day. She would have just finished her chores for the camp and would immediately wish to spend her free time with him. Each time she would scratch at the fabric of his closed tent, asking softly if she could come in; Javier’s chest would swell with excitement. He would either be plucking the strings of his guitar or sharpening his knife. Instantly he would stop what he was doing and encourage her to come inside. This time, when that familiar scratching noise strove forth to his ears, he had not been doing either of those things. He had been reading. The young woman had left her book on the crate next to his bedroll from the night before. She had been in such a tired daze to commute back to her own bed, she had forgotten to take it with her. He took it to his fancy to examine the pages she had been reading all these weeks. The Mexican had concluded that it was a story she was very fond of – she had read it multiple times and bookmarked her most loved sections.

His amber eyes focused on the poised woman before him, his attention on the book now broken. Miriam’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment seeing what he was reading yet her expression softened, finding this sentiment to be almost adoring and heartfelt.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I must have left that here last night…” She awkwardly stated, walking over to kneel beside him. He was sprawled out across his bedroll, one elbow keeping him propped up whilst his spare hand held the book. One of his knees was also bent to give him more leverage if he wished to move. His bandages around his upper torso were slightly dirtied, having been a couple days since they were last changed. His hair was messy, still free from his usual tied back look. The rugged look was oddly attractive to Miriam for it was an appearance that she had never seen before and one that Javier had hardly ever let others see. He had maintained his looks to the point where the other gang members, especially Arthur, would often throw comments about his well-kept attire and fancy looks.

“The Knight held onto her handkerchief, crumpling it in his grip to release his love’s alluring scent…” Javier recited the lines before him in which his index finger underlined. “It was then he realised, no mountain, no beast, no evil could stand in his way. He would fight for not what was right... but for what he believed in.” Miriam’s cheeks grew hot. She swallowed quietly, keeping her eyes on the floor but listening to his voice. Afterall, he spoke the words so beautifully. “She was his belief. His faith. His love; the saviour of his world.”

Miriam smiled at that part. It was her favourite passage from the book. The warmth she felt from within was enough to give her the confidence to lift her head to finally look at him. His eyes had a cushioned temperament to them, fully absorbing the woman who knelt before him. He found it charming how attached she was to the book, clear by her reaction to the words in which he recited.

“You like this part?” Javier’s question was more rhetorical if anything. His fingertips brushed over the words printed on the page, indicating to the pencil marks which circled the section. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she gave a small nod. He looked at her with question which prompted the young woman to elaborate.

“Throughout most of the story, the Knight would struggle with what he truly wanted. The Princess whom he fell in love with was revealed to be from enemy lands. When her bannermen came to collect her… he was faced with his toughest battle.” Miriam crawled forward a little more, her own fingertips brushing over the words. “To do the right thing by his code; which was to let the traitorous Princess go… or to fight for what he believed in. And…” Miriam found herself smiling from ear to ear. “he chose her.”

Javier found himself smiling at Miriam’s telling of the story. “What did she do to be a traitor?” He quizzed, having only skimmed through parts of the book, only focusing on the pages which she had bookmarked and scribbled on.

“She ran away from home…” Her voice was quieter than before. Her eyebrows threaded together in hurtful thought. Javier caught on, knowing there was more to what she was saying. Some truth in her words. A fondness and similarity she held to the Princess in the book.

“Why would she run away from her home?”

“She was expected to do something she did not wish to do.” Her hand returned to her lap where her fingers clenched onto the fabric of her dress skirt. “it… resulted in…” She lost herself in her words, unable to complete her sentence. Her mind travelled far away, thinking back to the time before she got captured by the O’Driscolls. Back to her family.

Javier could see the lost look in Miriam’s eyes. His hand reached over to her upper arm, giving it a squeeze after dropping the book. His hand was almost big enough to wrap fully around the flesh; the dominating action brought Miriam back to reality. Her eyes looked to his having just noticed that he was now fully sat up, leaning over to her so their faces were inches apart. He looked deeper into her orbs, searching for some truth within. How he longed to know more about her. Not for the power of knowledge, but to just understand her more. To know he had gained her trust and that she placed her faith in him.

“Miriam.” He firmly spoke, wanting her undying attention. He placed his other hand on her neck. Once he was confident she wouldn’t look away, he pressed on. “Tell me who you are.”

“Javier. I can’t-”

“You can.” She closed her eyes, turning her head away but the hand which was holding her upper arm rested on her cheek to make her look back to him. “Miriam. You can trust me.” She struggled against his grip, placing her hands on his wrists to get him to release her. He did no such thing.

“But can I trust you not to hate me?”

“Hate you? Miriam…” His thumb brushed over the faded scarlet mark on her neck which his lips had assaulted before his injury. He remembered that moment clear. He had often thought of it and the possibilities of what could have been if the O’Driscolls hadn’t been pursuing them. “Nunca podría odiarte.” (“I could never hate you.”) His language was a captivating incantation to her; her lips brushed against his palm to look back to him. He frowned yet the more he leant in closer, the gentler his features became. “I meant what I said.”

Miriam’s eyebrows furrowed upwards, not knowing what he meant. He understood her confusion by the subtle shake of her head. His thumb pressed on her bottom lip, pulling it slightly down to make her mouth open. The sound of her breath hitching in the back of her throat made the man want to ravish her. The restraint he had was God-sent.

“The time I woke up. And saw you.” Miriam felt sick to her stomach yet it wasn’t out of fear or worry. It was out of revelation and growing affection for the man before her. He could see in her eyes that she knew what he meant. Now holding her chin, he tilted her head back so he could lean over her, looking into her soul from above. “Say it to me.” Her chest pulled towards him like a magnet, unable to deny their bodies need to touch. In return, his hand fell from her neck to find its place on the small of her back. His voice had some much authority, she ought to be a fool if she did not obey.

“Javier…” His eyes became half-lidded, her delicate voice like a lullaby to his ears. His lips pressed against the corner of her mouth and then along the length of her jaw. They were sweet butterfly kisses, gentle like the sound of her voice. His fingers released her chin, holding onto the top corner of her neck, just behind her ear. She tilted her neck back, silently begging for him to do more to her. He would deny her until she said those words.

His lips hovered over her ear. “Dime esas dulces palabras, mi amor.” (“Tell me those sweet words, my love.”)

“Tu eres mi luna y estrellas.” Her words were like warm honey falling from a spoon. Javier placed a tiny kiss below her ear before looking back to her cocoa-eyes. She had pulled her head back forth, her chest still pressed against his, not wanting to leave his heavenly touch. His expression was serious, no smile present.

“And do you mean it?” Without even thinking, Miriam’s fingertips reached to his cheek. She nodded, nothing but honesty in her eyes. This was all the confirmation he needed. He thought it possible that she was the very thing he had needed all his life. The right soul his own needed to be united with. A love from another lifetime. The pair both went to close their eyes, gravitating towards each other to kiss. They were centimetres apart when a brash voice was heard from outside the tent.

“Oi! Greaser! You hidin’ that little trinket in there?” Micah.

The couple stopped each other’s advance and stayed in silence, looking at one another in a mutual disappointment. Slowly, they grew apart in physical distance, looking away from one another.

“I stopped by her tent. Wanted to pay her a visit. She ain’t there.” Micah licked his bottom lip, knowing exactly what was about to transpire inside the tent if he had left them a moment longer. “Was hopin’ to have a little chat.”

“Get lost, Micah.” Javier called out, turning his back to Miriam. The young woman could only shudder at the blonde’s words, knowing there was no purity to them.

“Well… if you see her…” He chuckled from the outside, standing up from his crouching position. “Tell her I’ll be… more than happy… to help her on her way.” Miriam’s eyes went a little wide at his words. What could he have possibly meant? Without elaborating further, Micah walked away from Javier’s tent. He had cruel intentions. The power of rejection had done a number on him and just like Javier, Micah had been unable to get the young woman off his mind.

Like he had told her those many nights ago, he loved a little fight in a woman. She was a challenge he wished to conquer. Conquer he thought he could easily do. Destroy? That was something far more delicious to the scoundrel. He was going to do a little digging of his own. He found it comical that not one person in the camp had a crumb of information on her. He had even questioned Mary-Beth but to no avail. The green-eyed beauty would tell him to go away each time he brought up Miriam. Sadie Adler on the other hand was far more confrontational. The evening before, he brought up possible scenarios of who Miriam could be and it ended with Sadie’s fist slamming into his jaw.

‘The damn girl has loyalty on her side…’ Micah thought to himself as he stepped into Baylock’s stirrup. He mounted his companion and pulled hard at the reins to get his horse to turn, followed by a harsh kick. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting the position of his black leather coat against his body. A smirk followed from under his hat. ‘But let’s see how loyal your friends are when they find out what dirty little secrets yer keepin’.’ The smirk was replaced by a dark frown, thinking about Javier. ‘And yer little greaser.’ Micah and Baylock disappeared into the distance, the cloak of trees covering them. It was clear that the man would stop at nothing to get one over the young woman. He wanted the last laugh.

And he would have it.

Back in Javier’s tent, a spell of silence was still being conjured amongst the pair. It wasn’t uncomfortable between the two. Just solemn and unfortunate. The male still had his back facing her, his black hair falling over his shoulder to greet his bandages. Not wanting to address the rude disturbance which had just transpired, Miriam’s hands went to Javier’s back, now unravelling the bandages. She explained that they were finally ready to be removed permanently seeing as he had healed so well. He did not respond to her.

Admittedly, his silence did sting her. She did not wish to dwell on it for it meant that Micah had won on what he set out to do – ruin their moment. After a combination of twists and loops around his body, at long last his torso and ribcage were now free of the linen. Looking at the bare muscles on his back, his broad shoulders being the most muscular part, Miriam had to fight the temptation to put her hands against him. She wished to feel each crevice of his muscles, each dip and scar that painted across his tanned skin.

The entire time, Javier had been silent. Not wishing to upset Javier with unnecessary words, Miriam held onto the skirt of her dress and picked up her book which Javier had dropped prior.

“I’ll…” She stopped herself from what she wanted to say. “Good evening, Javier.” Without another word being said, she made her exit.

That evening had been a quiet one. Just another regular night in the Van Der Linde camp. Bill, Strauss and Pearson were sharing their history around the campfire. Karen and Sean were kissing and running away from each other like drunk teenagers in love. Hosea, Miss Grimshaw, Uncle, Lenny and Charles were sat round the table having a quiet drink, reminiscing about old times; Lenny and Charles more than happy to just listen to their elders. Dutch and Molly were dancing to the joyful lulls coming from the gramophone.

Abigail and Jack were sat in their tent, happy to watch Dutch and Molly dance. John in turn watched his wife and son from a distance, contemplating whether to join them. Swanson had passed out on his bedroll, his mouth kissing the dirt. Mary-Beth was sat by her tent, listening to Kieran say sweet-nothings to her. Meanwhile, Miriam, Tilly and Sadie sat nearby on the grass, listening to their conversation.

“My, ain’t he sweet?” Tilly commented, noting how genuine Kieran was being to Mary-Beth. Sadie scoffed, adjusting the angle in which her hat sat.

“Sure. Don’t change him bein’ an O’Driscoll though.” It was Miriam’s turn to speak; the volume of their voices quiet enough that the love-struck pair couldn’t overhear but loud enough so the ladies could hear each other.

“Oh, come on. He says he isn’t one of them.” Sadie frowned at her chestnut-haired friend.

“And?” The blonde said with a fearless attitude in her voice. Miriam smiled to herself, shrugging.

“He’s probably telling the truth.” Sadie laughed, perhaps a little louder than first intended. Miriam felt the need to defend her statement. “If he was then I wouldn’t be here. I would have been handed back over to the O’Driscolls.” Tilly gave Sadie a knowing look.

“She’s got a point, ya know?” Sadie spat over her shoulder, knowing that Miriam got her good with that comment.

“Unless he’s waiting for the right time to tell them where you are.” Miriam shook her head.

“No. I don’t think so. Kieran’s a good boy. I mean… he looks after the horses better than anyone and…” The wavy-locked woman held her face in her hand, her elbow propped on her thigh. She looked at Mary-Beth who was clearly falling for the boy. “Look how he’s making her feel.” Tilly and Sadie looked back over to the couple. It was evident they were sweet on each other. By the way Mary-Beth would never break eye-contact when he spoke and how Kieran would stumble over his words each time he got a better reaction from her than he was initially expecting.

Sadie rolled her eyes.

“Well, if he makes one wrong move…” Sadie pulled out her knife and pointed it in Kieran’s direction. “He’s gettin’ it.” Miriam and Tilly quietly giggled to themselves, pitying Kieran if he said one wrong thing to Mary-Beth. Even if it was accidental.

From a distance, Javier watched the women from under a tree. The skies were illustrated with colours of navy and pink from the setting sun. Diamond-like stars peaked through the mixture, pulling the moon up from its slumber. He had lit a cigarette, its orange glow lighting up Javier’s face like an ominous portrait. The shadow of his bowlers hat created a black band across his brown eyes. The fabric of his blue jacket rubbed against the tree as he leant back, crossing one boot over the other.

He couldn’t let it go. That moment they had shared in his tent. It was almost perfect until Micah interrupted them. He had been so close to learning who she was. So close to kissing her again. If they had shared that kiss, he could only fantasise what would have happened after if she wished it so. There was no doubt about it that she wanted him like he wanted her. He saw the way she would look at him. How beautifully she would arch back for him. How pretty she sounded when she reacted to his touches.

He felt robbed. Cheated.

Angry.

A cloud of smoke surrounded him upon his exhale. Another bubble of laughter came from Miriam. The sound was better than anything a songbird could whistle. Javier clenched his fist which was holding onto his belt.

He couldn’t let it go.

Miriam stood up from her seat and said something to both Tilly and Sadie. They had both nodded to her before Miriam began to walk away. It appeared to Javier that she was heading towards the water. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, chucking it to the ground without a single care to give. He saw his opportunity and he planned on taking it.

Walking behind her, he stalked her towards the water. Before she could even comprehend she was prey, Javier smoothly joined her side and slipped his fingers through hers, holding onto her hand. Not faltering in pace, or giving her eye contact, he led her away from the camp, steering their path towards the trees. Miriam did not question the man, her posture in fact relaxing, glad Javier was near her once more. He hadn’t spoken to her since the removal of his bandages. She had been starved of his attention and thus welcomed any intentions he had.

They kept walking, stepping over the branchy pathway which now served as an obstacle course. It was clear by the gradual disappearing path that they were getting deeper into the woods. They were far enough away from camp that they would not be heard… or interrupted.

Javier finally stopped walking, at last looking at his amor. The moon was starting to peak its beams through the branches, creating an elegant mist across the bases of the trees. The sound of the water nearby rippled towards their ears, ignoring the breeze which tried its best to billow past. His heart almost leapt in his chest seeing how her eyes dazzled against the moonbeams. She was a sublime creature to him; unlike any woman he had ever laid eyes on in the past. Her thick lashes batted innocently, looking to him for some form of explanation as to why he had brought them all the way out here.

His silent response was to step towards her, tucking her wavy hair behind her ear like she would always do.

“Javier?” He hummed at her in response. “What are you doing?”

“Robando mi tiempo atrás.” (“Stealing my time back.”) Miriam let out a shaky breath. The way he said those words; his voice had dropped to a lower pitch but dark undertones. How close she was to falling to her knees.

Leaving the touch of her silky locks, Javier’s hand rested on the side of Miriam’s neck, his thumb crossing over her jaw. He angled her head back perfectly so he could once more look down into her eyes just like before. This time, there would be no interruptions.

Not wanting to risk even an inch of that possibility, he closed the gap between. His lips pushed onto her own whilst her hand moved to hold his own on her neck. Without even thinking, she returned his kiss – that flame within her igniting brighter than ever before. This was no gentle kiss but a heavy and longing one. Too many times had they both been restricted by other’s views. By the fear of getting caught. For Javier, enough was enough.

Javier’s teeth pulled Miriam’s bottom lip back just slightly so he could selfishly hear her cute little gasp. As quickly as she breathed in, he released her lip and pushed her head back even more. She was now practically looking up to the skies, only for Javier to crane his head over and press his lips to hers again. Her eyes squeezed tightly, her grip tightening around his wrist but she did not try to pull him away. Instead, she succumbed to both him and the lustful heat she felt between her legs. Every passing second, he was advancing further on her smaller frame; his lips kissing her harder, his tongue dominating hers and his hand tightening around her neck. All Miriam could do was accept the treatment she was getting, gladly playing her part as his next victim of romance. There was still the smallest of doubt in her mind that if she were to give him everything this night, would he move on to another?

Using a short burst of strength, Miriam escaped Javier’s lips for a split second to claim air. He nearly did not give her enough time to do such a thing. She saw the sinful desire in his eyes just before he pushed his lips back to hers. He tasted of cigarettes and smelt of oakwood and pepper with a hint of musk. The very smell of him sent primal instincts to her brain, which in turn made her squeeze her legs tighter to relieve her burning sensation out of retaliation.

“Javier!” She cried out, her legs not being strong enough to stand against his assault any longer. Before she could fall to the ground, Javier crouched down quick enough to place one hand on her hip and the other on her ass to stop the fall. In doing so, their kiss had been broken, the both of them now panting to fill their lungs back with oxygen. The crouch was awkward to continue to hold, therefore, the Mexican softly relaxed the muscles in his arms so the young woman could delicately sit on the grass. Her hair sat beautifully on her shoulders, her waves simulating waterfalls of silver which imitated the moon’s light perfectly. Her lips were now a dusty rose colour due to Javier’s passionate violation. Her cheeks were a faint scarlet and her eyes were half lidded. Miriam leant back on her hands, her breasts pushing against her corset with each desperate breath she took. Javier relished the sight of her.

“Te ves tan dulce como esta.” (“You look so sweet like this.”) Miriam’s cheeks turned a darker shade of ruby, recognising one of the Spanish words he spoke. She understood he must have been calling her or referring to her situation as something sweet to look upon. Her lips parted in awe when she saw him duck his head down, his lips butterflying between her breasts. She frantically tried to squeeze her legs together but his legs were now in the way. He was knelt between her own, having got on his knees from his previous crouch position. He chuckled darkly when he felt the pressure of her thighs. He lifted his head to look at her. “Something the matter, cariño?”

She could have passed out. The realisation hit her that he knew exactly what she was trying to do. Bashfully, she shut her eyes and turned her head over her shoulder to avoid his gaze.

“You treat me so cruel, Javier.” There was half-truth to her words. Of course, Javier was nowhere near a cruel man, but his actions as of late had been taken as cruel by the young woman. The silent treatment from earlier, his touches back near Wallace station, the constant uttering of Spanish when he spoke to her, knowing she could not understand and the endless teasing he was doing to her mind, body and heart. Her words however made Javier’s expression soften. He placed a curled index finger under her chin to steer her gaze back to his.

“How so?” She couldn’t put all her thoughts into words. All she could do was frown sadly and say something more abrupt and to the point.

“Do you do this often?” It was a painful question to ask, but she already knew the answer. Javier was a handsome man. But more literally than anything… he was a man. A man who had desires like any other. Javier sighed. Not out of disappointment but out of knowing she was hurting her own feelings, drawing invisible comparisons to his past lovers. Yet above all he knew she was worried she would be just another one of his ‘lays’ and nothing more.

“Miriam…” He moved his fingers from under her chin to his lap. He sat on the backs on his ankles, looking at her with honesty. “I’ve had other women, yes.” The bluntness of his statement pierced her heart. She knew it was just human nature but it was the fear of being ‘just another woman’ to him. She wanted to be more than that. She wanted… to be his.

Her look of hurt rattled him within. He got off from his ankles and leant over her, both his large hands holding her cheeks. His nose was almost touching hers when he lowered his voice to a softer tone. “But do I often do this…” Very slowly, he gave her a butterfly kiss. Deep and meaningful. He pulled away, letting go of her cheeks, his hands now disappearing under her dress skirt. He scrunched up the bottom of the fabric, lifting it past her beautiful plush thighs where her knees were bent and there the fabric pooled around her hips. His head ducked down between her legs, placing a damp kiss by her knee. “…this…” Javier’s head went further between her legs, peppering kisses further down her thigh, until he reached her core. His thumbs brushed away the fabric of her chemise so he could look at her pussy. Her slick glistened perfectly under the moon’s glow. Without hesitation, Javier pressed his mouth against her heat, causing Miriam’s eyebrows to furrow upwards and her lips to part wider than the last time.

“… or this…” Javier gave her pussy one strong lick, brushing past her clit hard causing her thighs to shake in adrenaline and pleasure. Miriam had knocked her head back past her shoulders, almost giving herself whiplash. He saw her cunt twitch, begging to be penetrated and this in turn made his cock grow against the inside of his jeans. Restraining himself from eating her pussy right there and then, Javier lifted himself back up to gain control of her gaze. “… no.” He finally answered. Miriam rolled her head back forth to look at him, his answer having reassured her. In the past he had merely fucked women, not even remembering their names the morning after.

But Miriam… he did not want to just merely fuck her. He could never forget her name.

Javier soaked in how beautiful she looked all flustered before him. He couldn’t help but kiss her again. And again. And again. She returned every single one with mutual passion. The innocent thing tried pushing her tongue into Javier’s mouth but before she could do so, he put his hand on her cheek and used his thumb to stop her. Her tongue pressed against the pad of his thumb, begging for it to move. He obliged but not in haste. Sluggishly he dragged his thumb down her tongue, past her bottom lip which caused it to follow. With her bottom lip pulled down like this, seeing how plump and round her lips were, his cock twitched in anticipation. He imagined them encircled around his dick, her beautiful locks bouncing on and off her shoulders as she went. That was something he would often do.

“Mi amor… if you would let me…” He released her lip. His eyes glimmered with longing. “Quiero adorar tu cuerpo.” (“I want to worship your body.”) Miriam looked at him with innocence, trying her hardest to translate what he was saying. Yet she wouldn’t need to. Javier leant in closer; his lips next to her ear as he whispered. “Let me make love to you.”

Miriam felt the world around her freeze. She could no longer hear the rippling of the water against the shore. The rustling of leaves high in the trees had muted. The cries of the foxes chasing their prey, silenced. Her beating heart was ringing through her ears, the only sound she could hear. Shyly, the young woman nodded. Javier grazed his teeth over her neck, pinching at the skin.

“Dilo.” She winced, placing her hands on his shoulders. He repeated the word after nipping at her skin again. It was a dull pain yet it still sent arousing shivers down her spine.

“Ja-Javier?” Her questioning tone earnt her a nip at her earlobe. His knee pressed against her core which caused the young woman to press her chest into Javier’s.

“I said, say it.” He almost hissed the last two words yet there was still an undertone of adoration. Javier made her lie down on the grass, her angelic locks spreading over the blades of grass. The indigo forget-me-not flowers which grew in these parts graced her appearance, making her look other-worldly. A Goddess which had descended from the heavens. Javier placed his hand on his hat and removed it before sitting back on his ankles to admire her appearance. The backs of her hands led either side of her face; her big doe-like eyes looking up at him with enchantment. He reached forth for one of her hands and he pressed it to his lips with his eyes closed. She was so soft to touch, whether it be his hands or lips. She was perfect to him in every way.

“Dilo…” He whispered. He pecked her hand. “Dilo, mi amor…” Releasing her hand, Javier crawled backwards so his face was back between her thighs. He kissed the most inner corner of her thigh, perhaps the most sensitive part. “Dilo.” He now demanded. Yet he still received no verbal response. The only sound he could hear was Miriam’s heavy breathing. She tried to squeeze her thighs together, but Javier’s hands prevented her from doing so. He was not going to allow her to feel any sort of pleasure until he knew for sure she wanted him. All he would do for the time being; tease.

He pressed his thumbs into the corners of her inner thighs, massaging them in intricate circles. As a result, her pussy lips parted and moved with the skin he was pushing and pulling. The night’s air slapped against her heat, making her breath tremble. So badly she wanted to spread her legs for him, yet her shyness had a chokehold on her. He pushed her further. He was going to break that barrier. Placing one light peck on her inner thigh, he moved his mouth to the hood of her clit, kissing it ��� lighter than a brush of a feather. This very action tipped the young woman over the edge.

“Please! Please, Javier!” Her hand reached down to his head where the tips of her fingers laced between his raven locks which were held back by his ponytail. He removed his lips from her clit and looked up at her with an almost blank yet dark expression.

“Please, what?” He baited. Miriam looked at him helpless. The man was so cruel. So cruel. Tears began to prickle against her eyes.

“Please make love to me.” That was all he needed. The Mexican dropped his head below his shoulders to assault her core. It was unlike anything she had ever felt. First, he kissed her pussy, treating her pink flesh as it were the sensitive skin on her neck. He was gentler to her pussy than he was to her lips earlier. When he said he wanted to make love to her, he spoke the truth. The animalistic side of him wanted to devour her. Fuck her senseless. Rut her until she lost her voice. But he knew there would be many more moments in the future for them to do such things. Right now, he wanted to show her through his actions that she meant more to him.

That to him she was a religion he wished to worship.

The wetness pooled between her legs. He could smell her sweetness and wanted to finally taste. Javier put his index and middle finger in a V-shape either side of her pussy and stretched her apart. Her nectar spilt down, finally being released from her entrance which had been trapped by the constant squeezing of her thighs. He lapped his tongue from the bottom of her spill to her opening, drinking her fluid. The raven-haired male savoured her taste; she tasted like syrup and blackberries – a snack she often ate whilst she read that romance novel. Gods he wished he could eat her all night. Her taste was addicting to him. He needed her to spill more for him. He needed more of her. Especially when she looked down at him between her legs with such a cute expression. Her cheeks were flaring up like autumnal embers, her eyes lidded with ever-lasting devotion. Miriam squealed upon the intrusion of his tongue being pushed inside her. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the blades of grass, scrunching up the flowers that once crowned her. The feeling of his tongue inside her was more incredible than the feeling her own fingers gave her when she would dream about him late at night. She never thought insane pleasure like this to be possible yet she was proven remarkably wrong.

Her body wanted him badly. It was evident by the way her pussy clenched around his tongue, each time he removed it only to push back in. Her back arched upwards, her shoulders planting deeper into the ground. Miriam felt as though she was ascending to another world, having a hard time distinguishing reality and fantasy. The overwhelming feeling of his tongue caused her to feel embarrassed thus making her thighs close around his head. She didn’t mean to, yet her body reacted out of instinct. Despite the strength of her beautiful plush thighs, Javier pushed them apart easily with his hands. He was not going to allow her to close up and deny herself the full potential of pleasure he could offer. He pulled back from her heat, running his wet muscle over his bottom lip to catch the dripping nectar left behind.

“Cariño…” Javier called out, looking up from her legs and through the valley of her corseted breasts. He saw her lift her head to greet his gaze. God, he found her beautiful. “You would enjoy it more… if you were to spread your legs for me, mi amor.” His request made her want to explode from embarrassment. She could no longer keep eye contact with him and found herself looking at anything and everything but his coffee-coloured eyes.

“I-I… I… can’t…” She fumbled over her words, part of her wishing she could be swallowed up by the earth to avoid his hungry appetite. However, it was her deepest desire for him to annihilate her. He snickered at her response. If only she knew how surreal she looked to him.

“Sí. You can.” Once more, Javier sat back on his heels, this time removing his blue jacket. He discarded it to the same side he had previously thrown his hat. With a swift tug, he loosened his red neck scarf so he could move around easier. Miriam watched the male roll up his white sleeves, folding them at the elbow. The outlines of his muscles and bones caused her cunt to pulse longingly. Her body couldn’t deny the irresistible sexual attraction it had to his. Nor his to hers After rolling his sleeves back, he showered her inner thighs once more with velvet kisses as if he was trying to urge her to spread them. With each kiss, she moved her legs out wider, wider… and wider. He smiled, lips reaching to her pussy again. “Eres tan hermosa.” (“You are so beautiful.”) He breathed against her only to push his tongue back inside.

Miriam whimpered, her fist uncontrollably grabbing a large section of his ashy hair to hold onto for dear life. Her pleasure had increased thrice as much by doing as he asked. His experience showed by the way she was now trying to push his head down to push him further inside. He did as she pleased. With his chin and facial hair now wet with her slick, Javier pushed his tongue as far as he could inside her, fighting against the clenching of her inner walls. Her muscles contracted around him, wanting to feel every part of his tongue. He rolled his tongue in every direction, coaxing out more of her slick to prepare her for what was to come later. Her hand would often tighten then release his locks, only to grab another fistful when he would aggressively change the direction of his tongue. A tight knot bubbled in her lower abdomen, beads of sweat appearing on her temples.

“Javier… Oh God…” She tightly shut her eyes. Just as she did so, Javier pulled his tongue from her. Miriam almost huffed at the disappointing notion but was soon shut up by his lips closing round her clit to suck hard. Her hips bucked without command. It was as if she was no longer in control of her body. The young woman was trapped in her mind. A palace of pleasurable torture. The sweet noises of him suckling on her clit heightened the impending orgasm which threatened to take over. She had never experienced a deep, gut-wrenching feeling like this in the pit of her stomach before. Her orgasm which was yet to come almost scared her, not knowing if she would still be conscious to experience it. “Javier, s-s… s-stop…” They both knew she did not mean those words. The need in her voice betrayed her along with her pussy which begged for release. She kept her hand on the back of his head, rolling her hips against his lips.

Javier hoisted Miriam’s legs over his shoulders, only sucking harder at her clit. Every couple of seconds he would release it from the suction, not wanting to hurt her. He would swipe his tongue over her clit with each release, as if reminding her he did not plan on letting her go until she came on his face. His hands had snaked under her legs to wrap back over the top to keep her hips pinned against him. She wasn’t going to escape from this. Her fantasy would indeed become a reality. Pathetically, she tried to push his head from her due to the powerful wave which began to ride over her body. She begged him to stop, never having felt like this before. She cried out his name. Nothing stopped him. In fact, he only suckled on her clit more messily. Reaching the peak of her orgasm, her legs and hips shook violently. Javier nuzzled into her mound more to make she felt as elevated as she possibly could. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, her lungs panicking for air. Her cum fell from her pussy. It was so warm and thin against Javier’s chin. Releasing her clit at last, his tongue returned to her entrance. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he drank from her.

She sniffled, trying to compose herself. She wanted to sit up but she felt too weak to do so. Yet it didn’t stop her from trying. Releasing her hand from Javier’s head which was still between her legs, she placed it behind her to push herself up. As soon as her back left the ground, her muscles gave way and went to collide back against the grass. Nevertheless, Javier still managed to pull away from her in time to reach forth and place his hand on the back of her head to cushion the blow. Climbing over the top of her, he combed her hair behind her ear with his free hand, staring into her eyes. He did not realise she had been crying from the pleasure she had received. It made his heart yearn.

Moving from her chestnut strands, his hand rested on her cheek, brushing away her tears with his thumb. He soothed her, getting her to calm herself.

“You did so well, mi amor.” Javier praised, causing Miriam to smile timidly. He returned her smile, aided by a slow kiss he planted on her lips. Eagerly, she welcomed his affection, tasting her cum which was glossed over his mouth. Her blush quickly returned to her cheeks, still finding it hard to believe what he had just done to her. It was no dream. But an ethereal sensibility.

He understood she was still weak from her climax but it mattered not to him. He wanted her to stay just how she was. He removed his hand from the back of her head so her hair could once more reunite with the flowers. Finding a spark of gentlemanly nature within him, he explained what he was about to do to her in the softest of voices. She bashfully furrowed her eyebrows together, suddenly conscious of her situation.

“Javier…” She stopped him from unbuckling his belt. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow out of concern. She bit the inside of her lip, finding the courage to admit her predicament. “I’ve never done this before.” He grunted in amusement.

“A beautiful woman like yourself has not yet been claimed? What did I do to deserve this…” He felt pride swell in his chest. The thought of him being her first made his cock ache. His one true wish would come true this very night. For Miriam to be his and his alone. He had never taken a virgin before but he had heard stories of how it would be uncomfortable for their first time. With that knowledge in mind, Javier placed a comforting kiss on Miriam’s forehead. “Mi amor, I’ll look after you.” When he finished his statement, the sound of his gun’s holster and belt dropping to the ground could be heard along with the unbuttoning of his black jeans. Miriam’s eyes wandered to his clothed crotch, almost eagerly awaiting to see what he had been hiding from her. With a quiet hiss escaping his lips, he pulled his cock from its confinements, allowing the night’s touch to encircle around him. His cock was thick; the base as big as her wrist. She followed his length down to where his tip was seeping with precum. His cock looked painful in this state – it was so erect and ready to release already. How Javier coped being in this state whilst eating her pussy, she did not know. Seeing her doe eyes look at his manhood like this made Javier smirk as he leant back over her.

“See what you do to me, cariño?”

‘Oh God…’ She cursed mentally, feeling her pussy throb with apprehension. His words sounded so sexy and the sight of his cock made her want to spread her legs again. She didn’t know what it felt like to have sex but all she knew was that she wanted Javier inside her.

Curiosity got the better of her and her fingertips reached out to touch him. His hand encased around hers, stopping her from doing so.

“No, mi amor…” He pressed his lips against her hand, making her look at him as he did so. “This night is for you.” With his free hand, he held onto his cock, giving himself a few rubs before positioning himself at her entrance. He looked into Miriam’s eyes, awaiting her approval. As much as he wanted to claim her, he understood that there was a possibility she found this all to be moving too fast and would want to stop. This he would not quarrel. He would cease all advances if it meant she felt comfortable. “Do you trust me?” Javier asked, the moon above him casting its light around them. To Miriam, he looked like the holiest of angels. She smiled warmly, nodding her head.

“Yes.” She strongly answered. The corner of Javier’s lip tugged upwards. He kept hold of his cock, sliding it up and down the length of her pussy to coat his length in her cum. She would internally thank him for this kindness later. The tip of his cock sat at her entrance and he pushed into her slowly. All the while, he never broke eye contact with her. All was received well and good until the head of his cock met the resistance of her hymen. Miriam tightly shut her eyes, feeling the beginnings of the pain but her virginity had not yet been taken. Javier squeezed her hand which he was still holding close to his chest.

“Look at me, Miriam.” Reluctantly she opened her eyes. She found herself distracted from the pain whilst looking at him. His eyes were so full of adoration, reverence and piety. Perhaps even…

… love?

Now both the corners of his mouth were pulled upwards, smiling at her wholeheartedly. It was in this moment he snapped his hips forward to break through her virgin barrier, pushing the entirety of his length inside of her. She grimaced at the soreness which engulfed her core but held her view of Javier. He frowned when he saw tears threaten to fall from her waterline again. Never did he wish to hurt her or see her shed such things. He let go of his manhood and placed both his hands either side of her head. Leaning down, he kissed the crook of her neck with airy tenderness.

“You’re doing so well… me estas llevando tan buena, mi amor.” (“you’re taking me so good, my love.”) He cooed, his words casting a spell over her, lifting her back to paradise. She silently rolled her hips, signalling for him to move so the pain could be replaced by incomparable pleasure that her romantic novels would so often describe. Javier did as she pleased, holding himself back from giving in to his devilish urges by thrusting selfishly into her. Instead, he grinded against her, only pulling his length back just slightly before rolling his dick back into her. The soreness was ever present yet faltering with each movement. Noticing her pained expression still hadn’t disappeared, Javier moved one of his hands, trailing it down between her thighs. He circled her swollen clit caringly with his thumb, bolts of electricity coursing up her spine. A gasp escaped her mouth and in turn, her pussy pulsed around his cock. The Mexican hissed between his teeth. She was so tight that he couldn’t quite believe he hadn’t already spilled inside her yet. But he knew he could not be selfish. Not this night. He wanted her to feel on top of the world so she would remember this for the rest of her life.

“Relax for me, cariño.” He grunted out, slowing down his circles around her clit. Still being under his enchantment, Miriam obeyed and that was when she realised, she could no longer feel the soreness below. Only ecstasy. Like a little dancer, she rolled her hips more in sync with his own, her fuel having been replenished by his sinful actions. Pleased by her actions, Javier’s thumb circled faster around her already sensitive clit; triggering that burning eruption which would soon happen from within her.

Pretty sounds poured out of her mouth, only motivating Javier more to see her through. Badly he wished to grab onto her hips and slam their bodies together. He knew he could make her lose her mind. Make her screams be heard throughout the woods all the way back to camp. But he held back. He promised her love this night. Not feral fucking.

“Javier… oh, Javier…” Her tone oozed with sugar. Never had his name sounded so sweet before. He gritted his teeth hard, feeling her pussy tightening around his cock with each circle he drew around her clit.

“Mierda…” He removed his hand from her core, placing it back beside her head.  “Estás apretando… tan apretada.” (“You’re squeezing… so tight.”) His choice of language only made her pussy clench harder, begging for his cum. It took everything he had to not already unload himself inside her. To fight back, he dug his fingers hard into the earth, focusing on that instead of filling her up. He knew it was something he shouldn’t do. After all, the last thing the gang needed was another kid running around camp. They already had Jack to worry about. The life of an outlaw had no place for children.

‘Perhaps Jack needs a playmate.’ The devil on his shoulder whispered into his mind. Javier shook away the thought. Then again… the thought of her waddling around the camp with his child in her belly was something so tantalisingly… tempting.

“Ja-Ja…vi” Miriam choked on her words. “Javier… I’m… I’m…” She couldn’t even finish her sentence, the overwhelming feeling of her climax beginning to take fold. He retained the same speed of his thrusts, resisting the urge to quicken them. As much as he wanted to come inside her, he knew the risks were too great. He made sure to hover his head over hers, to silently remind her to keep looking at him.

“I want to see you, mi amor.” He conducted. “Let me see your pretty face.” Mewling wildly, Miriam arched her back once more, her hips locking in place unable to roll her hips anymore as her climax took over. Javier looked deep into her eyes, cherishing how gorgeous she looked whilst she came. Her cunt clenched around his cock so tightly – Javier held on as long as he could before he had to remove himself from her warmth. As soon as the cold night air kissed his cock, hot spurts of cum darted out, catching on her chemise, thighs and the outside of her pussy. She shakily caught her breath, hiccupping in the back of her throat with each paint stroke of his cum on her bare skin.

Idly, he stroked himself, allowing every drop of cum to fall from his length. He hissed with each stroke, momentarily wishing he had met her in another lifetime. A lifetime where he could start a family with her without a second thought. No risks to worry about. No other person he had to protect other than her.

“Javier?” Her celestial voice brought him back down to earth. He tucked his manhood back into his jeans, buttoning them back up as he caught her gaze.

“Sí, mi amor?” He brought her hand to his lips, awaiting her words.

“I… I…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, remembering Sadie’s words from before. “Thank you.” She sadly smiled.

Javier being so engrossed in his thoughts didn’t catch onto the woefulness that was hidden behind her eyes. He warmly grinned at her, using his free hand to place his hat back onto his head.

“No…” He leant down, tickling her ear and jawline with his kisses. “Thank you.” A more genuine smile overcame Miriam, little bubbles of laughter leaving her throat.

‘Perhaps…’ he thought, in another lifetime – he could be that knight in her story that she loved so dearly?

[petri808]

Day 12 @flufftober “fire & ice” Tianshan royalty AU. It’s rushed I know I’m sorry 😢 I’m trying to catch up on stories.

Being pushed away, makes the heart want. Call it curiosity or intrigue. Maybe it’s because Mo Guan Shan has what he lacks, but whatever the reason, He Tian is a moth drawn to the sullen red-headed flame.

And speaking of Mo Guan Shan, it’s once again the time of year for him to travel from his home in Akaitora Kingdom to their ally and neighboring Kuroiryuu Kingdom. It’s his duty to discuss the quarter-annual harvest prices for trade and dread certainly looms, like a dense fog rolling over the mountain passes. It literally sends shivers down his spine to think about their second prince He Tian and how much he deplores dealing with the man’s flashy and extravagant personality. How is he supposed to deal with someone who’s diametric to him in personality, appearance, and capabilities, let alone comes from a class above. It doesn’t matter how he truly feels… He’s just a royal servant and He Tian is a highly coveted prince. Everyone knows and has seen them bickering over the years, especially now as adults, but the palace servants chalk it up to being like siblings in rivalry.

So far, so good, Mo Guan Shan remarks internally as he’s completing his meeting with Emperor He Cheng. There’s been no sign of He Tian, never popped into the meeting like he normally would or made his presence known. Both kingdoms harvests are going well due a perfect amount of rain and lack of severe storms which set the trade prices at a reasonable rate for the citizenry. It’s time to head back home to report on their trade deal. But as Mo Guan Shan rounds the last corner before stepping out onto the palaces promenade that leads to the front gates, low and behold, he’s stopped cold at hearing his name from a voice he instantly recognizes.

“No, no, no,” Mo Guan Shan waves his hand without looking back at the source, “I’m leaving already, my meeting is complete.”

“Awww, Mo Mo,” He Tian whines and grabs Mo Guan Shan by the shoulder to keep him from leaving. “You don’t have to leave so soon.”

Mo Guan Shan instantly whips around, whacking He Tian’s hand from his shoulder. “Back off! I don’t have time to play like you do!”

“Oww!” He Tian nurses his hand and wrist. “Dick! That hurt!”

“That’s the point,” Mo Guan Shan spits back as he starts walking away again to avoid further trouble. “Take the hint.”

“Ugh! Why are you such a cold prick! What are you afraid of?!” He Tian screams at the retreating man’s back. “This is why you’re still a virgin!You’re gonna die a lonely old man at this rate never having fucked or been fucked!” He lets out a sarcastic laugh, “maybe that’s what you need! Mo Mo, should I drag you to a prostitute so you wont be a virgin anymore? Maybe you won’t be so crotchety if yo—”

Before He Tian can finish the sentence a solid fist lands squarely on his left jaw, sending him flying backwards to the ground. There’s no time to spare as Mo Guan Shan drops and straddles the man and starts landing more blows. One after the other as the shocked He Tian can only raise his arms and defend against further damage. He’s screaming at the man to stop with apologies intermingled with curses.

“You fucking slut!” Mo Guan Shan roars in his defense. “You’re the one who’s gonna die alone cause you treat everyone like a fucking toy for your pleasure!”

The span of time may have seemed like forever to the two combatants, but in reality is is maybe 45 seconds to a minute before the palace guards are on scene and pulling the men apart. Even they are surprised at this sudden burst of anger from Mo Guan Shan or the level of taunts He Tian has leveled too. The guards hold the men apart from each other until the emperor He Cheng arrives.

“What in the bloody hell is going on with you two?!” He Cheng snaps at the men. “Since when did things get so bad?!”

“He’s the one who hit me first!” He Tian screams.

“Fucker you deserve it for the things you called me!” Mo Guan Shan retorts.

“Enough!” He Cheng roars. “Both of you are behaving like children! It’s time to grow up! You’re not kids anymore!” He points at the guards. “Lock them up in He Tian’s suites! Make sure guards are posted, they are not allowed to leave,” he then turns to glare at the two men, “until you’ve squashed this feud!”

“What!!” The word is echoed from He Tian and Mo Guan Shan simultaneously. “You can’t—”

“I can’t what?” He Cheng glares back, effectively shutting them up. “I’m certain emperor Jian Yi would agree with me. You boys should be childhood friends not enemies! So until you sort out your grievances, you’ll be confined here! That’s an order!”

The second the door slams behind them, Mo Guan Shan and He Tian instantly face off for round two.

“This is your fault!” Mo Guan Shan snaps. “If you just left me the fuck alone we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“Me?! You’re the one who got all bent out of shape over a damn joke!” He Tian throws back. “If you know I’m teasing you could’ve just kept on walking away!”

Mo Guan Shan takes a step forward. “Beat a dog enough you’re gonna get bit!”

To retort, He Tian takes a step forward too until they’re a foot away from each other. “How is teasing the same as me beating you??!! That’s a ridiculous analogy!”

Mo Guan Shan shoves He Tian away. “Just leave me alone!” He snaps again and walks away to the balcony.

“Oi! Don’t you walk away from me!” He Tian screams but doesn’t follow just yet. “Why do you hate me so damn much?!” He Tian is the second prince. His much older brother He Cheng is the Emperor, risen to the throne once their father passed away. As the second prince, He Tian has no real duties required of him beyond the occasional diplomacy and spends much of his days being a charming, social butterfly and self-proclaimed brat of the palace. He’s received the finest schooling, but it’s hard to imagine otherwise when he acts like such an idiot.

Without turning around, Mo Guan Shan simply stares out at the landscape beyond the room, answering in a frustrated sigh. “I don’t hate you. Tian.” He rests his arms on the balcony railing, exhausted from the psychological strain. “I just get tired of you teasing me every time you see me.”

“I’m not trying to make you mad…”

“Then why keep doing it when it obviously pisses me off?!”

What do you do when your crush won’t give you the time of day? You love them. You hate them. You hate that you love them, and for as long as you can remember in your 22 years in this life, you are the fire to their icy personality. “Well…” He Tian mumbles. “I have my reasons…”

That gets Mo Guan Shan’s attention. He turns to face the prince, crossing his arms and leveling a look of exasperation. “Explain. Right. Now.”

Growing up, there was rarely anyone around for He Tian to play with. So, perhaps it is loneliness that has causes him to act this way, constantly seeking attention, good or bad. At least, this is one theory someone has come up with. The one person his age and only person still in his life since childhood— Mo Guan Shan, the first cousin of the current emperor Jian Yi. While they grew up, there were times when visiting each other’s kingdoms they’d be made to play with each other, but Mo Guan Shan is cold, shy, yet thoughtful, and loyal to his cousin. Now as an adult, the man is a diplomat for his cousin, sent to his and other kingdoms for trade negotiations or other official duties. He Tian always tries to engage with Guan Shan when he’s around, but is usually rebuffed because ‘duty calls.’ He Tian turns away to hide the brewing embarrassment and reddish hue building on his face. “I can’t and risk making you even more angry.”

“I doubt you could make me anymore angry…”

After a lifetime staring at each other to see who will back off first, “Fine then!” He Tian throws his hands up in defeat. “It’s dumb, yeah, I know, but I do it to get your attention!” His arms flail in emphasis. “I’ll do anything because I miss you!— because ever since we were kids I’ve been in fucking love with you, and it’s the only way you’ll talk to me!” He Tian turns his back to Mo Guan Shan, holding his arms crossed tightly against his chest, and looking away, closing his eyes to hide the tears trickling down his cheeks. It takes a concerted effort to hide the cracking pain in his voice. “Well, secrets out so, I’ll leave you alone from now on since that’s what you want.”

“Dumbass.” He Tian feels a pressure against his back and arms encircling him from behind. “I just don’t understand you sometimes,” words whispered close to his ear. “Because it’s my secret too.” He Tian sucks in a breath at those words. Did he just hear Mo Guan Shan correctly?

“That makes us both dumbasses,” He Tian retorts through a choking sniffle when the air he holds in releases. “You didn’t need to be such a dick to me all these years.” He feels free now that they’ve aired their true feelings and ready to resume his normal behaviors.

“And you didn’t need to tease me so much,” Mo Guan Shan jests back, “flaunting relationships and acting all high and mighty.”

He Tian peels Mo Guan Shan’s arms off him and turns around to face the man. “For the record, I never slept with anyone ‘cause I want you to be my first.” He grabs the man’s cheeks, pulls in, and steals a sudden kiss, purring, “Whad’ya say Mo Mo?”

[sangoqueenkoko]

SCARAMOUCHE

Aka, The Wanderer

monster

Angst

MAIN MASTERLIST | ANEMO MASTERLIST

.

Summary: Scaramouche has never seen such power. Never mind in you. Even he never wanted this much power.

Warnings? Angst. Mentions of death. Dottore my husband appearance. Detail of surgical injury. Mention of major character death.

Includes The Doctor, aka Zandik, and Scaramouche/Wander of course!

What has he done?! Is all that went through Scaramouches wild mind. HOW COULD HE?!

No one has seen him as angry as this.

Not even you.

Even if you were unconscious on the surgical table in front of him.

“Ah yes, The Balladeer, or, should I say The Wanderer?” he heard a chuckle come from behind him. He spun around to see a familiar person. Zandik. Also known as The Doctor, “hope you don’t mind me using your little friend as the subject of my experiments. They are… quite the forte.”

“The Doctor. What kind of experiments?!” Scaramouche yelled back at him, he glanced to the side of him only to see no change of your current position.

He had noticed some scars along your arms and torso that seem to be fresh.

“Nothing much apart from some modifications. Only to make them seem better, yes?” He laughed with his devilishly pointy teeth, walking close to Scaramouche and the table with you laying still atop it, “make them more of a… weapon. Something that has no mercy and that can cut through just about anything.”

A weapon? What form of weapon?

When you woke, you felt a little dazed and confused as to where you were. Once your mind had cleared up, you were instantly given an objective that must have been planted into you.

Kill Scaramouche.

N-No! I can’t do this! You thought, obviously distressed, Anyone but him!

Scaramouche saw you in distress and wanted to stop all of this for you, but something took over you.

Something that wasn’t you. This made him stay away.

Before he knew it, he stood face to face with you. Who had a katana in your (left/right) hand, it encased in cold, dry ice, conjured from your vision, consider it a gift from the Tsarista, your legs fogged out by the smoke like fog it created. The look in your eyes wasn’t the one he knew to be you.

The Doctor stood by you. Once he told the simple command to you with a smirk it was all over for Scaramouche.

.

.

.

.

“Kill him”

And so before he could even finish the sentence, you had already charged your way to your target, your weapon creating a light frost trail behind where it travelled by your side.

As much as he hated to see it, he had to fight back.

Thanks to his Anemo vision, it could help him desperately evade your attacks.

Every time you tried to strike him, you missed due to his quick reflexes, your strikes encasing whatever you hit into deep ice. Even if it hit some innocent people, cutting, hurting them as well as freezing them thoroughly.

But nothing lasts forever, as The Wanderer soon fell to the ground after hovering for too long. And his self defence attacks tired him out. So therefore he was weak.

So there he is again, in front of someone who had way more power and control of him, just like his mother.

She casted him aside and saw him non other as a puppet who had lost their puppeteer, the puppeteer being her too.

Now it was you. This new form of you saw no mercy in what you or your blade touches, life or death caused by you didn’t even make you flinch. You showed no mercy.

No sympathy.

You are just like him. A puppet in the hands of a puppeteer who only thought of their own benefit.

And being controlled showed how helpless you were on your own. How you can’t control things.

How you couldn’t control your master who forced you to kill your own beloved with a blade that spoke for you!

The Balladeer was a puppet. A slave.

And you have to put up with the guilt of you cutting the strings to your puppet.

The Balladeer.

[project-v175]

Out on a Limb

Brutal fighting. That's what the wizarding world had succumbed to. Violence. All her life, she had only known the peace of magic. That changed when she became an apprentice at the ministry. She wanted to be an auror. She wanted to restore peace. He who shall not be named had ruined everything for her, and it needed to be set right. Nothing felt normal for her.. not until him.

__

Chapter 13: Stealth in the Forbidden Forest

Venus looked on at the sight in front of her. Tall trees with leaves so thick even the gleaming sun looked like nothing more than a flickering lamp. She knew this forest. It was there, deep in her blood and memories. She had seen it multiple times throughout her life. She even spent a detention here, caring for the life within it. The Forbidden Forest. A small chill ran uo her spine. It wasn't the dark that she feared or the dangers within it. She had no fear at all. Only a small calling whispered in her ears at the back of her mind. Alastor stared at her in question. Her emerald green eyes seemed a bit too distant, too glossy. This could be a problem.. but what was the problem? Was the water too close? Or too far? Did the woods mess with her mind? Perhaps they did. He had never brought a mermaid, let alone one who could perform magic, into these woods. It was possible that the atmosphere, so full of hazy fog, had a trippy quality about it.

"Well? How bout it, eh? You ever been here?" Alastor nudged Venus in the side. Her eyes snapped to him, then returned to the woods slowly. This would definitely be a problem.

"Yeah.. yeah.. once. Maybe twice. It was ah- detention, i think. Supervised." Her voice was even more distant. Quiet. Faded. She nodded absent mindedly, then took a step forward.

Alastor began towards the woods. He eyed Venus Distracted was not a good look on her. The scrunched up focus looked better.. What was he even thinking? She's young, and his apprentice at that. She stepped on a branch, and her body rolled forward. The glaze on her eyes vanished almost instantly and was replaced with shock. Alastor turned on his heels, grunting as he felt the prosthetic twist awkwardly, and caught Venus in his arms before she hit the ground. She looked up to find Alastor nearly glaring at her. His narrowed eyes, or eye in this case, looked her over for injuries. She was fine, just rattled.

"S.. sorry, Alastor. I think it's the lake. I can feel them." Venus stood up, flexing her now rolled ankle. Great. This just made things a lot easier. She stood merely inches from Alastor. The heat from his body warmed her skin and left a tingling sensation in her abdomen. She hadn't felt this emotion before. The warmth on her cheeks, fluttering of her stomach. It was like she was embarrassed, but what of? The fall? Or being so close?

Alastor let his shoulders relax. Seeing Venus all hunched over, hiding her face in the shadows and speaking like a scolded child, left an awful taste in his mouth. The girl was tiny in front of him, especially up close. He dwarfed her. Was she intimidated by him? By merlin, he hoped not. His index finger slipped under her chin for a mere moment. Her eyes turned upwards towards Alastor, then back to the ground.

"Fight them. This'll make for a good lesson. Try to focus. On finding me." Alastor began hobbling away again without stopping this time, a small smile across his scarred lips. He was gone before Venus had realized what Alastor meant.

Find him? What the hell does he mean? He doesn't really mean.. she has to walk through there, alone, does he? This was his idea of stealth training? Venus looked forward at the treeline. She had been left standing where she tripped. "Ugh! Is this seriously his idea of stealth training?" Venus groaned as she began stepping over branches and pushing past stray leaves. She had no clue how to find Alastor. The fog was so thick that she could barely decipher a tree from his build. On several occasions, she felt herself gasping at a gust of wind. Surely Alastor wouldn't make her walk all the way through the Forbidden Forest alone.

...

Leave her he did. He did, indeed. Venus could feel the temperature dropping now. Her hands ran up and down her arms, attempting to soothe the goosebumps standing on her skin. She could still feel her people calling for her. Her resolve strengthened gradually to a firm ignorance. She could barely feel them unless she really focused now. The air had slowly shifted, and it wasn't just the temperature. She hunched over and knealt to the ground. Her hand landed in a sticky mud puddle. The shape of the puddle became clearer, ut full of water. A rough boot print with a smooth one just ahead. She waved her hand over the water. Small droplets rose from the ground. The stringy moonlight overhead made them glitter and dance as one giant blob. "What.. the.." she mumbled to herself. Had she always done that? She could feel her people tugging at her mind but also pushing her forward. Was this their doing?

A smirk crept over lips. The water was pulled from the ground, leaving a trail of dry footprints to guide her. "Now i see you." Venus muttered.

She followed the trail. A fleeting feeling of accomplishment wrapped around her stomach and mind. She could run. Oh, how she would love to run up on Alastor, but this was stealth training. She wanted him jolting from her arrival. And jolt he would, covered in water. His footsteps led her in circles, but she was relentless. The forest, once full of nature sounds, became eerily quiet. He was close. She could feel it. The droplets of water collected and fell from her hands. Only a small waterballoon shape was left in her hands. A soft grunt gave away Alastor's position. He knew she was there.

Venus stopped in her tracks. A sick smirk crept over her features. Her footsteps were light, easing slowly over leaves. She pulled her wand out of her sleeve, sending a small blast towards Alastor's feet. He yelped out and sent one back. Venus's eyes widened. The ground was squishy beneath her back as she rolled behind a tree and out of Alastor's sight. Of course, she knew he could see her through the tree with his eye. At least he couldn't touch her through the thick trunk.

"Venus! That best be you! I ain't goin' easy on ya!" Alastor called out. He began smiling when he heard her giggle. She was good at this, so far. Her giggled turned to a squeal when Alastor sent a small ember at her head.

"EEK!- Alastor! What was that for!" Venus leaned over the other side of the tree and sent out an Experlliarmus charm. Just as Alastor was deflected with Protego, she rolled out from behind the tree. With the water bubble in hand, she drew more water from the earth. Alastor's eyes widened. All he could manage was covering his face before being splashed. His entire front side was dripping, and Venus was squealing happily at her triumph.

__

Author Note

OH MY GOD. WHEN I TELL YOU, I HAD THE BIGGEST WRITERS BLOCK I AM NOT KIDDING. I also started classes again this week, and i have a free period, so I will most likely get on this again. Very soon. My love for Professor Moody has also been rekindled due to my new pocket pal, so YAY.

[nonsensical-questions]

Hey happy new year pal! Do you have any sensetale updates? :D

well first of all happy new year! second off, i really wish i did, but i guess i can use this to give more of a situation update so that people understand what's been going on, so after i released part 3 i started working on the next part almost instantly, but i knew i had to do some real life stuff too soon, i was able to build some of the monster village and a few npcs along with writing part of the parts dialogue, after that i got spriting block, well rather i felt like the sprites i was making were not good enough for the future parts and so i stopped till i could find some motivation, that time has yet to come and even if it had come at some point i was in no position to work on sensetale, i needed and still need to figure out some irl stuff before i'm able to really commit myself to sensetale, i tried asking for help with sprites or writing a bit so i could just like... get part of it worked on while i was dealing with stuff but i guess not many people saw those posts and those who did either didn't wanna help or couldn't which is understandable, i've had to cut back on some projects i was helping on too. but with staggering motivation, mental blocks and issues keeping me from working on sensetale and even a physical block of my computer not having internet for a while, it's been a bit of a nightmare, i've been working on other projects when i didn't feel like working on sensetale, and a few of those are close to completion and i will be advertising them here so hopefully that will help things a bit but sensetale is sorta in a rut right now, without a lot of time to work on it, making things is slow and will most likely continue to be unless i get some hands or help. right now i just need to get improve my mental health a bit and find a way to convince myself my sprites don't suck so i can start working on things fully again, and since the village isn't finished i can't even start making panels for the comic i know this isn't the update you wanted but as much as it pains me to give a status like this it also feels cruel leaving people in the dark, still part of me still fears this will have people lose hope in the au but i do genuinely plan to finish sensetale in it's entirety, no matter how long it takes me, i never want to end sensetale off without a proper ending unless it would be damaging myself to continue, even if no one watches or enjoys the comics i just wanna finish something and leave a mark. anyways while there is that i do have some vague info about the other projects, guess just some thing to build mystery or get people interested in those other projects without completely spoiling them project 1 teaser: "Within the frozen snow and ghastly fog, you will be put to the test. for a god walks among us, shining bright as a star, lets see if you can play your role or fall to the protector of all monsters!" project 2 teaser: "halls of the forgotten, left to ruin, a plan he never thought he'd have to use, but with how all the others have left, who's to say this one won't do the same. stopping you from leaving to save others. that's the promise he made to himself, but will he be able to keep it? or will he falter, either way. let's hope this won't be the end of your tale." as a note: - both of the projects are undertale related - these are not new, just seen from a "new light" - this is not related to sensetale

anyways that's all for now hopefully there will be more to report on later

[kyopmi]

☆ — 𝒑𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒖-𝒑𝒆𝒏 ! [ ch01 : see you, pikachu! ]

pairing — suna rintarou x gn!reader

notes — university au! suna doesn’t bring any pens to class lol

words — 1.0k

[ series masterlist ]

you watch silently as your classroom fill up with faces you vaguely recognize, fighting off the sleepy fog that threatens to take over.

8am is too early for a class, you bitterly think. you check your phone for the twelfth time in the past five minutes and slump when you see no new notifications or replies from your friend who’s supposed to be taking the same class. guess they’ve overslept today. you wish you had, too.

you drop your head onto the cool table, closing your eyes and thinking about what you’re going to have for lunch later. you figure no one’s going to bother the person sitting in the back row, hoodie pulled up and looking like they’re half asleep. your mulling over katsudon and pasta is disturbed, however, by an unfamiliar voice to your left.

“is this seat taken?”

it takes a moment for you to register that the question is directed at you. you turn to the source of the voice and instantly feel a little more awake.

“no, it’s not,” you reply, clearing your throat a little.

suna rintarou nods at your reply and moves back the chair nearest to the door — only two seats away from where you’re sitting. you’re not looking at him but you can hear him digging into his backpack for what you assume are his stationeries.

you’ve only seen suna around campus but never actually talked to him before, despite having several classes together. you’ve heard lots about him, though. smart, athletic, funny, really chill — overall a great guy, really. you also don’t miss the rumors of multiple students from various years and majors across campus having crushes on him or the occasional confession. understandably so, you think, he is quite easy on the eyes.

just seconds later, the chattering of the class quiets down when the lecturer walks in and begins setting up the presentation slides in front of the room.

“crap.” you hear the whispered exclamation from beside you.

you glance at suna as subtly as you can, though you soon see he’s still busying himself with his backpack, a notebook now placed on his table. suddenly, he drops his bag without taking anything out of it and turns to you. you immediately look away and try to make it seem like you weren’t staring at him the whole time.

he seems to pay no mind, though. “do you have an extra pen i can borrow?” he asks quietly.

you nod without making eye contact and grab the first pen you see in your pencil case, handing it over to him across the one empty seat in between you.

“thanks,” suna says, shooting you a quick grateful smile before turning back to the front of the class.

“no problem.” you murmur back. why the heck is that small interaction giving you butterflies?

the lecture starts and you turn your attention back to the slides displayed by the projector, trying your best to focus and not think about the man sitting next to you, who just smiled at you, who is currently using your pen. and you think you’re doing a good job. that is, until—

“pikachu, huh?”

your head turns to look at suna again a little too quickly. he’s twirling the pen in between his fingers with a small teasing smirk on his face. you realize he’s talking about the small prints of pikachu that decorates the barrel of your retractable pen. you’ve used this pen multiple times before in front of other people, but somehow suna’s comment makes your neck heat up all the way to your cheeks and the tips of your ears, leaving you speechless as if you’ve been caught with something embarrassing.

and it looks like your flustered state shows on your face — suna stifles back a laugh at your response (or lack thereof).

“don’t worry,” he continues, “it’s cute.”

you kind of want to sink in your seat.

he goes back to listening to the teacher as if nothing happened. you try to, as well, for the next hour as the lecturer drones on about calculus, but there’s a tiny voice nagging in the back of your head that’s not letting you forget about suna and your damn pikachu pen.

the class ends, eventually, and everyone eagerly packs up, getting ready to move on with their day. you’re not sure if you should ask for your pen back or if suna’s going to take the initiative to return it to you, so you make sure to take your time arranging your notebook and pens inside your bag.

“so, tell me if i’m asking for too much here,” suna’s starts casually, “but do you think i can borrow your pen for the rest of the day? i forgot to bring any.”

“yeah, sure,” you nod at him. a small part of you worries if you’re being too trusting — that is a limited edition pen and he’s basically still a stranger, no matter how charming he is.

suna smiles almost satisfactorily. “thanks,” he says for the second time that day. he puts the pen inside the front pocket of his backpack and zips it up securely. “i’ll give it back next class we have together. and i’ll make sure to keep it safe for you.” he stands up and slings his backpack over one shoulder, making his way to the door.

“see you, pikachu!” suna calls back, giving you a wave before disappearing through the door.

god, you hope you’ll see your pen again. and maybe suna rintarou, too.

this stemmed from my trauma of lending someone my cute pen and then NEVER GETTING IT BACK

let me know if anyone wants a part 2?! i kinda want to make this a series <3

update: it's a series now :)

[saintlike78]

Hiii can you do a poly marauders x fem reader where girls are being mean to her like calling her ugly and saying she dosnt deserve them so she’s breaks up but they find out what’s been happening and they get back together . (I couldn’t see if your requests are closed) ❤️

Greedy [Poly Marauders]

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! You’re just fueling my addiction with writing poly Marauders fics… and I love it!!

Pairings: Poly! Marauders x Fem!reader

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: Fluff, polyamorous relationship, breakup, mentions of not eating, crying, reader being sad, mean girls. Lmk if I missed anything.

“Honestly you’re just being greedy!”

“They don’t even really like you; you were just the easiest.”

“You’re not even pretty enough for one of them, what makes you think you could have all three?”

“It’s only a matter of time before they get bored of you and trade you in for someone better and more deserving of their love.”

The words swarmed around your brain, a thick fog settling before your eyes as tears streamed down your face making everything blurry and wet. Your feet were clumsily transporting your body back to your dorm, trying your best to keep your head down avoiding the stares your fellow students were giving you.

You were trying to forget and ignore what those girls had said, but it kept playing on repeat in your mind. You knew that your three boys loved you, but the girl’s words filled your head with doubt. You knew that your boyfriends were too good for you, you didn’t deserve them, they would be better off without you or with somebody else. The thoughts were killing you; more tears escaped your eyes at the thought of them with somebody else tearing you apart, but it was necessary for their happiness. You could never make them happy; you could never be enough for them.

You ascended the stairs towards the girls’ dormitories but decided against it opting towards going to your boy’s dorm, wanting to feel the comfort of their room one last time.

You opened the wooden door but met by silence from the other side. The boys still had an hour of class left, leaving you to sit in sadness alone for a while longer before you would be breaking your own heart.

Walking across the room you stood in front of the mirror taking in your reflection, red puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks. Looking at yourself you understood what the girls saw, you had no idea how Remus, Sirius, and James had stayed with you as long as they had, but it was time you finally put them out of their misery even though it was killing you. Thinking about what would happen in less than an hour the tears pooled in your eyes once more, but you quickly grabbed a tissue from the box on Remus’ desk beside the mirror and wiped your eyes and the falling tears. You made your way into the connected bathroom, wanting to at least look somewhat presentable before the boys returned. You washed your face with cold water, the cool water washing away any redness, but not concealing the sadness that still lingered in your eyes.

The book in front of you could not hold your attention, your focus solely on the door of the dorm, just waiting. James’ soft blanket comforting you slightly but never distracting enough.

The door burst open and the loud chatter between the boys filled the quiet room. Their laughs warmed your heart, momentarily causing you to forget what was going to happen.

“Bunny, you’re here!” Remus just about shouted, running to you and getting on top of you kissing you all over your face.

You couldn’t help the giggle that left your lips, but sadness bubbled up within you at the fact that you would never experience this again.

You softly pushed Remus off of you making him sit on his calves looking at you in a very confused manner.

“I need to talk with all of you,” you said trying to keep your voice steady, hoping they couldn’t tell how much you had been crying.

Sirius and James made their way to the bed as well, sitting beside Remus.

“That sounds so serious… you aren’t breaking up with us are you, pup?” Sirius joked, but your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

“Wait?! Are you?” James asked worriedly, noticing your face and lack of words.

You were fiddling with your hands, not looking in their eyes.

“Uhm… well… the thing is…. Uhm… y-yes.”

Tears filled your eyes when you finally muttered the words, not believing this was real, but you knew it needed to be done.

“What?! No! I was just kidding, you can’t break up with us, why would you say that?!” Sirius exclaimed, not believing his own ears. Tears gathered in all of their eyes, unbeknownst to you, since you still refused to meet their eyes.

“Bunny… you don’t mean that,” Remus tried, his voice breaking slightly at the effort of trying to contain his tears.

“I-I do, I’m s-sorry, I can’t be with you anymore,” you stammered, tears now leaking down your face once more. Your hands were shaking, and your limbs felt heavy, your heart shattering into a million pieces. You quickly got off of the bed facing the door wanting nothing more than to leave, not wanting to look at their faces because you knew if you did you would break even more.

They all stood from the bed as well walking towards you. James reached for your arm, but Sirius stopped him.

“Please, y/n, don’t do this… we love you; don’t you love us?” James tried, not trying to conceal his tears any longer, letting them fall freely down his cheeks.

“It’s f-for the b-best.”

“Y/n, don’t you love us anymore?” Sirius repeated James’ question since you chose to not answer, not wanting to lie.

A long silence ensued, you didn’t want to lie, but you knew that it was what you had to do for them to hate you.

“… n-no,” you whispered.

All of their hearts collectively shattered. Both Remus and James were freely crying, but Sirius was fuming, angry tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Fine! Then leave!” Sirius shouted causing you to jump slightly. Sirius felt his heartbreak and he felt guilty for scaring you, but he was just so angry and sad, he didn’t know how to handle it.

You quickly walked towards the door opening it, but before you left you turned around letting yourself cave and get one last look. Your breath caught in your throat when you took in their tear-covered faces, your already shattered heart turned to dust.

Whispering an almost inaudible ‘I’m sorry, you slid out the door, leaving the boys heartbroken and most of all confused as to when you suddenly stopped loving them.

You raced towards your own dorm, opening and slamming the door shut as soon as you had made it inside. As soon as the door was completely shut your legs failed you and you crumbled on the floor, loud sobs leaving your quivering lips. You had never felt pain like this before, it felt like someone had cut your heart out and ripped it apart in front of you, leaving you a bleeding broken mess.

Lily, who was laying in her bed, was startled by your sudden entrance but was quickly by your side as soon as you collapsed.

“Y/n/n, what’s wrong? What did they do?” she asked, clearly expecting the boys to be behind this, but also not quite believing they could hurt you to this point.

“I-I b-brok-e up w-w-with them!” you sobbed out, hiccups making it much harder to formulate a decent-sounding sentence.

“You did what?! Why? Just yesterday you were madly in love… what happened?” Lily’s confusion shone clearly through her tone, not understanding why you would do such a thing.

“P-please, I j-just want to sl-sleep,” there was nothing you wanted more than to lay in your bed and just disappear.

Lily just nodded and helped you towards your bed, helping you remove your shoes and grabbing your sleepshirt, which happened to be one of the boys’ shirts.

“Do you want to sleep in this?” Lily asked carefully.

You instantly nodded and grabbed the shirt from her grasp, wanting nothing more than to be comforted by your boys, but since that wasn’t an option, you opted for this.

Slipping into the warmth of your blanket the tears never ceased, but your eyes still fell shut, wanting to sleep the pain away.

“Do you want me to grab dinner for you later?” Lily asked softly, but already knowing the answer.

“No thanks… can you close the curtains around my bed?”

Lily sighed but did as you asked, knowing you just needed time.

In their dorm, Remus and James were pacing around the room whilst Sirius sat on Remus’ bed, trying to calm himself before dinner.

“I don’t understand, we were all fine yesterday,” James muttered loudly enough for the two others to hear him as well.

“What is it you don’t understand, Prongs? She loved us and now she doesn’t, ‘s as simple as that,” Sirius stated, his tone laced with bitterness, choosing to be angry instead of letting the sadness consume him.

Remus stopped his pacing and looked at Sirius’ seated form, “you don’t really believe that do you, Pads? … Prongs is right, we were all fine yesterday.”

Sirius just let out a ‘humph’ and crossed his arms, rising from the bed.

“Whatever, let’s just go to dinner… she’ll probably be there celebrating her freedom from us.”

This time James stopped to look at Sirius, “you know she would never do that and besides something doesn’t seem right… it’s too out of the blue.”

Remus nodded and let out an agreeing hum and they both followed Sirius towards the door.

Days passed; you hadn’t left your bed unless you had to use the bathroom. You were drowning in tears the pain in your heart not subsiding.

The teachers were informed that you were “sick” and that you needed some time to recover from your sudden illness.

The only time you had gotten any form of nutarians was when Lily basically forced you to consume something, anything. She was growing more worried each passing day, having talked to the boys and keeping them updated on your situation, since they all were worried as well and asked her to keep an eye on you for them since they hadn’t seen you since the day of the breakup.

The news of your breakup spread like wildfire; people not used to see the three boys without even a trace of you.

Remus was the first to experience a couple of the girls flirting very aggressively with him, but he brushed it off, knowing they could never replace you; it was you or nothing. Sirius was the next, he was less nice and told the girls to leave him alone. Lastly was James, he almost cried, wishing he could get you back, so he could be free from any other girls.

The girls were growing agitated by the lack of attention they were getting from the three Marauders, clearly not understanding why they were so upset by losing you.

It had been more than a week; Lily was studying in the library when she heard your name spoken behind one of the bookshelves. She stood from her seat, moving closer to listen to the girls on the other side.

“Ugh, it’s so frustrating! Sirius totally dismissed me the other day,” one of the girls complained.

“I know! I don’t understand, it’s been a week, they should be over her by now.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll soon realize that she wasn’t even that great and then they’ll be all over us,” the last girl said with a proud smirk.

The wheels in Lily’s head turned as she absorbed the conversation and as the last cog clicked into place realization struck – her legs couldn’t have moved faster out of the library if she tried, but she was on a mission to find the three heartbroken Marauders.

“REMUS!” Lily was sprinting towards the black lake where the three boys had been residing most of the week.

“Woah, Lily, calm down, love,” Remus chuckled and got up from his seated position to be level with Lily.

Lily sputtered, trying to catch her breath, bending so her hands were on her knees.

“Y/n… y/n,” Lily started, still struggling to get a word in between her gasping breaths.

“What’s wrong with y/n? is she okay?” Sirius said as he and James stood, panic flooding between the three of them at the thought that something had happened to you.

“She’s… fine… hhhh…” Lily drew a deep breath, regaining her ability to speak, “I don’t think she wanted to break up with you.”

“What do you mean?” Remus cocked an eyebrow, hope blossoming in the pit of his stomach at the prospect of getting their bunny back.

“She obviously did, she said she doesn’t love us anymore, so that’s it,” Sirius crossed his arms, his sadness still concealed by anger.

“She does love you, a lot actually… she’s been crying the whole week, she hasn’t left her bed… or dorm room for that matter,” Lily explained.

“I heard some girls talking about you three and y/n; they were speaking very ill of her and though I’m not sure, I think there’s a connection with them and y/n’s sudden need to end it with you three.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want to get our hopes up for nothing… we just really miss her,” James said sadly, all of them scared that their hearts would be broken all over again.

“I’m certain… she never shuts up about how much she loves you, which was the reason I was so shocked when she came in crying saying she had ended it.”

Lily hadn’t had the chance to properly finish her explanation before Sirius was bolting towards the castle and towards Gryffindor tower, with Remus and James close on his heel.

When three boys entered your dorm room, all out of breath and red in their faces, you were asleep curled up on your bed, still wearing what the boys recognized as Sirius’ t-shirt. They couldn’t ignore the dried tears that stained your cheeks, your face red from the crying, your lips turned down in a sad frown, even in sleep.

Remus was the first to walk towards your bed, seating himself beside you, slowly stroking your cheek as to wake you. James and Sirius placed themselves on the bed as well, waiting for you to open your beautiful eyes.

“Puppy… you gotta wake up now,” Sirius spoke softly, rubbing your back gently.

You stirred and slowly opened your eyes, focusing on the three boys on your bed; instantly deciding that you were dreaming, not believing that they could really be there.

“Hi… Remmy, Siri, and Jamsie,” you grogged out, voice hoarse from the constant crying.

“I wish you were here in real life.”

“Baby, we are here, this is real life,” James chuckled softly, still scared that you really didn’t love them.

You quickly sat up, reaching out and touching Remus’ face, only to just as quickly retract your hand when you felt the very real Remus sitting in front of you.

“What are you doing here?” You breathed quickly, not wanting them to see you in your broken state.

“Lily was worried about you… and she overheard something interesting in the library from some girls… so we want you to tell us what happened,” Remus spoke slowly and reached out to take your fiddling hands in his.

“What do you mean?” you played dumb, not wanting to answer their question, knowing you would break again if you did.

“We want you to tell us why you broke up with us, and not to lie this time,” Sirius was trying to conceal his anger, not wanting to upset you even further.

You let out a shaky breath, not knowing where to start; you looked between them all, all of them eager to hear what you had to say and listening intently.

“I was talking to this group of girls, and they got into my head about how you're all too good for me I don't deserve you... I just feel like you guys deserve someone way better than me and more beautiful than me that's why I wanted to give you an opportunity to be free from me.”

The three boy’s eyes widened in shock at your words, all three of their jaws open wide almost hanging on the floor from pure disbelief.

“Bunny, you're the most beautiful girl we've ever known we love you so much more than you ever know... We are the ones who don't deserve you, you’re an absolute angel and you should never let any stupid lowlife girls tell you that you're not good enough,” Remus said reaching out and stroking your cheek softly, tears gathered in his eyes.

Sirius’s eyes flashed red, he was in two minds, keeping you company or going to murder the girls who made you believe such nonsense, but he chose the first option, scooting closer to you and engulfing you in his arms.

“Puppy, please never listen to those stupid girls again... This week without you has been pure agony I've been stuck with these two idiots for far too long,” Sirius whispered to you whilst stroking your hair.

“Does that mean that we can get back together,” James said with a shy grin.

“Of course, if you'll have me back,” you looked at all three of them hopefully knowing that they in no way were obligated to get back together with you after what you'd put them through.

“Of course, will have you, we can't imagine life without you… a week was way too long without you,” Sirius said, his fingers tilting your chin so that you're forced to look into his eyes, he leaned down and kissed your lips - a whole week's worth of passion translated into this kiss.

Remus and James both moved so that they could embrace both you and Sirius creating one big ball of love.

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

You Flinch During An Argument

request: none

prompts: none

warnings: mentions of abuse and murder, drinking, Kai being an asshole, language, crying, fighting, blood

a/n: this is formatted a little differently than my other headcannons

Tate Langdon

“Tell me it isn’t true!” you yelled, anger and betrayal flooding through you.

Tate didn’t say anything at first, keeping his eyes on the ground. You found out. He didn’t know how but you found out. The one thing he tried to keep hidden finally came out. And this definitely wasn’t going to end well.

“Tell me it isn’t true!” you yelled once more.

“I can’t! I did it, alright?! I shot up my school!”

You froze as soon as the words left his mouth. It was true. It was all true. Everything Chad told you was true.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Because I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

While speaking, Tate raised his arm slightly, trying to emphasize his words. But as soon as you saw his arm come up you flinched backwards, putting your arms in front of you to block yourself, preparing to be hit.

“Y/n,” Tate said weakly, his voice broken as he watched you cower away from him.

The anger between the two of you was gone. He slowly walked towards you, pulling you into an embrace.

“I would never hurt you. You know that right?”

“Y-yeah,” you said through oncoming tears.

“Then why,” Tate trailed off, not being able to find the words.

“My ex. He used to hurt me. And I saw you raise your arm and I just thought-,” you paused, trying to collected yourself, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no you don’t have anything to apologize for. You’re safe here, and I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Kit Walker

“You’re never home anymore! All I’m saying is that I miss you! I want to be with you!” you yelled out in tears.

What started as a simple comment of how much you missed him throughout the day, exploded into something way more than that. The two of you were screaming at each other, neither wanting to give up their side.

“I’m never home cause I’m working! I’m trying to help us have money! Which is kinda important!” he said while raising his arm to make a point.

But you didn’t realize that. Memories came flooded back. Dear came flooding back. In an instant you put your arms in front of your face and backed away.

“No!”

Kit froze when he saw what you did. All of his anger left him when he saw you react the way you did. Did you think that he would hit you?

“Y/n,” he trailed off, pain filling his heart.

You were sobbing now. You lowered your arms, but didn’t step any closer to him. You leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor, curling up into a ball.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry,” you mumbled out, attempting to speak through your sobs.

“Y/n you have nothing to be sorry about. What happened?” Kit asked softly and he sat down in front of you, still keeping his distance as to not upset you.

“My father, he,” you cut yourself off with a heavier sob, not wanting to reminisce any longer.

Kit’s heart shattered when he realized what your were saying. He immediately moved closer to you and pulled you into a hug.

“You don’t have to see him ever again, I promise. We can move, go somewhere far away from him, if you want. But I will never let him go near you again, I promise.”

You looked up at him with bleary eyes.

“Really?”

Kit nodded, and instantly relief flooded through you. You let your weight fall into Kit’s side, wrapping your arms around him, happy that you would never have to face your father again.

Post-Death Kyle Spencer

Kyle was having a meltdown again. You were trying to teach him how to communicate again, showing him flash cards to help him relearn words, and get his needs across to you. But Kyle didn’t like that. He thought you were treating him like he was stupid. And that made him upset.

“Not stupid!” he yelled, smacking the cards out of your hand.

You flinched, and brought your arms up to protect yourself, not bothering to think beforehand. Kyle froze and looked at you sadly when he saw what you did.

“Scared.... of me?”

“No Kyle, I’m not scared of you. I promise, it’s not you. It’s just, some people weren’t so nice to me when I was younger, and I just got scared. It wasn’t your fault.”

Kyle didn’t really know what to do, so he pulled you into a hug, trying not to hug you too tightly. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder, allowing a few tears to slip out.

“You... safe. I... protect y/n.”

You gently smiled, and hugged him tighter.

“Thank you Kyle.”

Jimmy Darling

“Jimmy, I think you’ve had enough to drink,” you said laughing slightly at his drunken state.

You reached over to take the bottle away from him, but he pushed you back and held the bottle away from you.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Jimmy slurred out, glaring at you.

“Jimmy,” you said softly.

You knew he was a little grumpier when he was drunk but this time he seemed different. He was angry. Violent.

“Please, just stop drinking and come to bed.”

Jimmy stood up and walked over to you, seeming even more angry. The bottle slipped out of his hand and fell to the floor, shattering.

“I said don’t tell me what to do!”

He was so close, and so angry. You didn’t know what was going to happen and you didn’t want to. Without thinking you brought your arms up to block your face and cowered away from him.

Seeing your reaction cleared some of the fog over his mind as he realized what happened. You were afraid. Of him. He immediately backed away, a few tears falling past his eyes.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he whimpered out, not wanting to startle you by talking loudly.

You lowered your arms and slowly faced him. The sight broke you. He was crying because he thought you were scared of him. You slowly walked over to him and hugged him, trying to o comfort both him and yourself.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he mumbled, feeling guilt overtake him.

“I just got scared. You’ve never been angry like that before and I didn’t know what you were going to do. I’m not scared of you. I promise.”

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

“I’m not going to drink anymore. I promise. I’m going to stop, I never want to upset you like that again.”

James March

He was late again. The two of you were supposed to be having dinner together, but for the fifth time this week James was late. Normally you just waited for him, but you were so fed up. Was he cheating on you? Why was he always late?

You walked out of the room you waiting in and started walking around the hotel, hoping to find out where he was. Then you heard noises coming from James’ room. They sounded almost like moans.

You assumed he was cheating. That’s what it sounded like. You pushed the door open and gasped when you saw what was really happening. Maybe seeing him in bed with another women would’ve been better.

But there he was. Standing over a mutilated body and covered in blood. He turned to face you when he heard the door open, his face immediately falling when he saw your reaction.

“Darling, what are you doing here?”

You didn’t answer, still in too much shock to form your words.

You turned around and started to walk away. James ran after you and grabbed your wrist and turned you to face him. You instantly pulled your wrist out of his grip and backed away from him.

“Dearest please,” he said reaching for you.

You flinched away and pulled your arms up to cover your face. James’ heart shattered at your reaction. You were scared of him.

“Dearest, I would never hurt you. I promise.”

“But- but you killed that person. Why? Why would you do that?” you said, starting to cry.

“It’s just a hobby darling. I assure you, I would never lay a finger on you.”

No matter what he said, you didn’t believe him. You turned around and ran, not knowing where you were going. You just had to get away from him. You had to get away.

Kai Anderson

“What the fuck y/n?” Kai yelled.

He held your wrist tightly and dragged you down into the basement. You were scared, no terrified. Kai was the angriest you’ve ever seen him. You were supposed to kill someone, but backed out at the last moment. You only expected him to be disappointed, not like this.

He dragged you down the stairs and threw you to the floor. He crouched down next to you, and brought his hand near you face. You immediately flinched away, not knowing what he was going to do to you.

He laughed lowly at your reaction. You were scared of him. Perfect. Maybe now he can get you to do what he needed you to do.

He gently ran his fingers through your hair, trying to lure you into a false sense of security. And it was working. You let your guard down.

“You know, I believed in you. I thought you were strong enough to do it. But since guess I was wrong.”

He gripped your hair tightly and started dragging you over to a closet. Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing.

“No, Kai please! I’ll do anything please!”

“You already had the chance little lamb. But maybe when I let you out, you’ll be more obedient.”

He opened the door and threw you inside. The door slammed after you, leaving you locked in darkness. Trapped, until he calmed down. Or until you died. Whichever happens first.

[nejibaby]

Fun

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x F!Reader

Summary: With you near-death experience in Dressrosa, you’re craving for a certain type of release.

Warning: NSFW!

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: A certain Luffy fanart has made me think of dirty thoughts about him so here I am posting this filthy thing. I’m so flustered, it’s not even kinky but writing smut really flusters me LOL 🤣 Please let me know your thoughts~

Celebrations are usual occurrences in the Straw Hat crew. Despite only having almost half the crew around, it doesn’t make the party any less lively. In fact, the presence of the new allies formed in Dressrosa makes up for the absence of the other crew members.

The near-death experience makes you crave for a certain type of release. And with the copious amount of alcohol being passed around by everyone, it doesn’t take you too long to gather up courage to find someone to help you.

Soon enough, you’re seated on a random guy’s lap, heavily making out with him, a few meters away from the celebrating people. Because of the alcohol, you’re not entirely sure who he is, but you have to admit he’s skilled at using his lips, his tongue, and his hands.

He’s just about to move you into a more private location, but before he could take you away, an arm wraps itself around your waist and suddenly you’re being pulled back into someone else’s lap.

You look at the person who just interrupted your moment, only to be surprised upon finding out it was your captain. “Luffy, what the hell?!”

“Oi, what were you doing with Torao?”

Torao? Trafalgar Law? You whip your head to where you previously were to confirm if the guy who you were with is truly him. Lo and behold, you find Law glaring at Luffy, and then angrily walking away.

You pout and let out a frustrated huff. “Ah, we were just having fun. I’ll just—” you point towards where Law went, “head back so we can...” you absentmindedly trail off, and then you attempt to get up from Luffy’s lap. Keyword: attempt. Because Luffy grips your legs so you couldn’t leave.

You furrow your brows at his actions. Just as you are to ask him why he’s keeping you there, he asks, “Why don’t you want to have fun with me?”

You swear your brain short circuited the moment his question left his lips. If you’re sober, you’re certain you would’ve taken his question innocently. But with the alcohol fogging up your mind, you aren’t sure if he’s just sulking because he wants you to party with him or if he’s inviting you to continue what you’ve been doing a while ago but with him instead of Law. And so, you want to clarify what he means. “What?”

Luffy giggles at your dumbfounded expression. He thought you didn’t hear him from the noise everyone is making, so he leans in, his lips almost touching your ear as he unconsciously rubs your thighs while saying, “I said, why don’t you want to have fun with me?”

And then he pulls away, waiting for your answer.

It isn’t easy to fluster you, but with Luffy’s proximity, the way his hands are moving, and the fact that you’re still aroused after the interrupted makeout session, you find yourself being affected by his question and it’s underlying meaning.

“I, uhm, I-I…” you stutter, unable to look at him in the eyes. You attempt to look elsewhere but suddenly your eyes land on his lips.

You’ve heard of people before who talked about how Luffy has his way of drawing people in and making them his allies. Right now that’s exactly what he’s doing with you, drawing you in — except, he’s doing it quite literally.

Before you know it, you’re leaning into him, and then your lips are on his. He smiles into the kiss before pulling you impossibly closer.

Luffy’s kisses are rather messy and uncoordinated, but it quickly makes you feel lightheaded and excited.

You’re so caught up with the moment to the point that it didn’t occur to you that you have instinctively started grinding on him. You’re only made aware of your actions when you hear Luffy groaning in pleasure. And that’s when you start wanting more, but you’re both still on the deck and there are still drunk people around, even if you both aren’t near them.

Luffy tries to follow your lips when you pull away. And then he pouts when your lips are out of reach. He whines your name, obviously wanting to continue.

“Luffy, I… we should… uhm…” you clear your throat. “I want you,” you whisper.

But Luffy isn’t even listening. His focus is solely on your lips and when you bite your lip nervously, he almost shivers in anticipation.

You take this opportunity to drag him into his room. Thankfully, he doesn’t object nor ask any questions, he just follows your lead. And when you’ve entered his room, you immediately lock the door and start kissing him once again.

You gently nudge Luffy to his bed, not even daring to break the kiss in the process. For some reason, the kiss turns rougher than before, almost feral.

When Luffy reaches the bed and sits down on it, you immediately climb on his lap. You grab a hold of his calloused hands and guide them under your tank top, towards your breasts. He kneads them instantly and you let out a whimper.

Luffy pulls away from the kiss. He removes his hands from under your tank top, and then the next thing you know, he’s tearing up the offensive garment. You haven’t even asked why he did that but he explains already, “It was in the way! I want to feel you better.”

If that’s the case, you unhook your bra and throw it somewhere in the room before he’d even think about ripping it off as well.

Luffy takes a moment to stare at your half naked form. With the way your boobs are slightly moving with every breath you take, he easily finds himself in a trance.

You snap him out of it by grinding on his bulge. You pull him in again for a kiss and he instantly cups your breasts with his hands again. He kneads your boobs and pinches your nipples, and you let out soft mewls in satisfaction.

You bite his lip and he lets out a sexy grunt. You palm his hardened cock and it instantly makes him breathless. He calls your name with a quiver in his voice.

You grab one of his hands and bring it under your skirt, inside your panties and urge him to touch your cunt. “You’re wet,” he breathlessly comments.

You slip one of his fingers into you, guiding him in and out. When he’s found his rhythm, you let go of his hand and let him do as he pleases. He adds another finger soon enough. The sensation elicits a moan from you.

“Do that again,” Luffy says. “Do that sound again.”

You oblige, resting your head on his shoulder as you moan at his ministrations.

You use this time to unzip his pants and tug his cock from the garments. When you start pumping him, he lets out a lewd groan and temporarily stops his fingers from moving. This goes on for a while and when Luffy starts moving his hips with the motion of your hands, you stop.

You pull away completely from him. And then you start stripping him off of his clothes until Luffy’s naked. You watch as he licks his fingers clean from the wetness of your cunt and he hums in appreciation. When he’s done, you take off your remaining clothes as well.

You grab a hold of his dick once again and kiss him on the lips. Your hand movements are slow as you switch from kissing his lips to his neck. You leave a couple of hickeys on him. Then you slowly make your way down, kissing, sucking, licking, biting his chest, his abs, until you’re on your knees, face directly in front of his dick.

He watches you with half lidded eyes, a look that you’ve never seen before on him. You look directly at him as you make kitten licks on his cock. You watch as he visibly gulps. And then you take him in your mouth and start sucking him off. Luffy pants and grunts at your ministrations. You then grabbed his balls and massaged them.

“That feels so good,” he moans.

Luffy uncontrollably juts his hips, wanting more of the pleasurable sensation you’re making him feel. And you let him.

But when you feel his cock twitching, you pull away.

Luffy whines loudly, but you push him so that he’s laying on the bed. You climb atop him, grab his shaft and coat it with your wetness. And then you slowly sink down until he’s fully inside you.

“T-tight…” Luffy mutters, “you’re so tight.”

You wait until you’ve fully adjusted to his size before you start moving. Luffy stares at you in desire as you move on top of him, your tits bouncing with every motion. He watches your face with fascination as he’s never seen your face contort with pleasure like this before. And for some reason, this makes him harder.

Then his body moves on his own, too lost in lust, his hands start squeezing your breasts, his hips start thrusting into you.

When he notices you tiring down, he easily flips the position so that you’re under him. All that’s going through his head is how good you make him feel.

“Luffy… fuck… so good…” you moan out loudly, unable to even make a proper sentence.

He snaps his hips faster and rougher as time progresses. He’s pounding into you so hard that the bed starts creaking and the headboard slams against the walls.

But those sounds are nothing compared to the noises the both of you are making. You have resorted to repeating his name like a mantra along with profanities here and there, while Luffy grunts and moans to your ears, sometimes telling you how amazing you feel.

All too soon, you’re clenching against him so tightly as you climaxed. This brings out a more brutal pace from Luffy as he starts chasing his own high. And when he releases his load in you, you almost shudder at the feeling.

When Luffy pulls out, he notices your juices leaking out of you. And before you can even comprehend what he’s planning, he starts licking.

Your breath hitches from the stimulation, but Luffy doesn’t stop until you’re completely clean.

And when he’s done, he’s grinning widely at you.

“Luffy, that’s…” you start to say, but you didn’t know what word or words you’re supposed to use. Hot? Sexy? Best fuck you’ve had in a while?

Before you can even come up with what to say however, Luffy tells you, “That was fun! We should do that again!”

[duskholland]

No Control || Frat!Tom Smut

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

✧ *:･ﾟNo Control･ﾟ:*✧

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

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

He instantly knows that he wants you.

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

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

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

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

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

“At what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harrison rolls his eyes. “Go on.”

“See ya, mate.”

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

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

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

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

Tom likes how your voice sounds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirk. “Business major,” you supply.

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

“I know. We’re in the same class.”

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

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

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

“I don’t know. Will you?”

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

“Have fun,” you say, stepping back.

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

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

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

“Eh… a couple weeks,” Harrison supplies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You walk in.

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

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

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

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

Right?

“I don’t need to—”

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

Harrison grimaces. “Are you sure?”

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

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

“Yep. Go for it.”

“Thanks, bro.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So why can’t he stop thinking about you?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom thinks he could get you to moan louder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Well?”

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harrison is not my boyfriend,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See ya!” he calls back.

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tom, I couldn’t—”

“Yeah, you can.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell her what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if it rains?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Hazzy.”

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

Tom blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Aww.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight kiss,” Tom begs. “Please?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As if.”

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

“And how’s your hangover?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Care for a nut?”

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

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

“Dirty girl,” he mutters, grinning wickedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what is this proper charm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait— I can walk back home.”

“Nah. It’s fine.”

“It’s out of the way, though.”

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

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

“No problem, love.”

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

“Small talk?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah. Crazy. Did you have fun?”

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

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

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

“Eh?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

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

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

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

“Woah,” you mutter. “Sorry.”

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

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

“Aren’t we friends?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom nods. “Yeah. I’m great.”

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

“Tom. What are you doing with him?”

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

“Nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you respond, slightly breathless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

“You know,” you hiss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You quirk a brow. “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom’s brows raise. “Did you..?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I taste your pussy, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ride you?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“Y’wanna flip?”

“Yeah. Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

thank you for reading!! <3<3