#and matter of fact tone it comes across as persuasive

[deadmegumi]

NEW TAV JUST DROPPED her name's ashra don't let her 16 con and 6'2 towering-over-everyone-but-karlach fool you she's a hemophiliac with brittle bone bitch disorder. Currently in love triangle w shadowheart and lae. Gale is trying to smash even tho she keeps bullying him for being a wizardcel who can't effortlessly use magic like her (chad draconic bloodline sorcerer)

[ingravinoveritas]

After seeing all those stories of Georgia going shopping with David (I'm honestly surprised that David knows how to drive, I don't know why), I think David is fed up with so much video.

@electronic-chocolate @victorianlonging Okay, so...I have indeed seen all of the stories that are referenced here, and I think a couple of things can be true at the same time. But let's first get the visual up for anyone who hasn't seen it (all in one video, for ease of viewing):

The first thought that I had is how reminiscent this was of what we've seen recently, with Georgia filming David when he seemingly really doesn't want to be filmed (such as at that festival last month).

What also came to mind is something I think at least several of us thought of (if my DMs are any indication), which is that David is clearly, visibly annoyed. There's no real way to not notice it, with him looking incredulous in the car (though I did laugh when he said "I'm not dressed for this," given how adorable he looked without even realizing it), and then when she sets the tone by immediately using the word "content." There's no question that that's what the objective of this was: To have content of/with David that Georgia could post to garner attention.

Once they're in the store, we see him balling up the shopping bags in his hands, which to me came across as a sign of anxiety. And given how non-confrontational we know David is, it's almost amazing to hear him respond to Georgia's "Say hi!" with an immediate "Nope." And the whole thing sort of becomes what you might call a self-narrating zoo exhibit (or "self-paparazzi," as I recently heard someone aptly describe it) where David is literally just trying to shop for groceries while Georgia is sticking a camera in his face.

We also notice that at one point, David is recognized by some fans and stops to take a picture with them, which when you think about it is likely a regular occurrence, since he has one of the most famous faces in the country. But because that is the case, you'd also think he would feel a sense of relief when those interactions are over and he no longer has to be "on"...until he goes back to Georgia and she is filming him. And as good-natured as David is, there's no doubt that it must get a little tiring after a while.

All that said--and in the interest of providing a balanced perspective--it is possible that David was playing things up, to an extent, and perhaps even exaggerating some of the annoyance that we saw. And there was something else about this that stood out to me, and that deserves discussion: His shoes...

Yes, David was wearing gay pride Doc Martens. GAY PRIDE BOOTS, ladies and gentlemen and those of other gender persuasions. And when we realize this is the case, everything about this vlog/series of stories starts to gets very interesting. Because while the shoes were by no means the focal point of the Insta stories, Georgia had to know that David's eagle-eyed fans would clock them right away. And clock them they did (and I also noticed this pair of Pride-themed Doc Martens, and would not be at all surprised to learn that David owns a pair of those as well).

Leaving aside the fact that no straight man on this Earth--no matter how strong an ally--would wear those boots (I mean...come on), I almost saw this as a callback/follow up to Georgia's story from a few months ago where she appeared to use "their" pronouns when talking about David (rather than he/him). Much discussion was had at the time of this being a way to "test the waters" for David to start being more open about his sexuality/identity, and this almost feels like a continuation of that.

Having heard from queer followers of mine who are not fully out to their families/friends, it seems that it is not uncommon for folks in that position to wear things to drop little "hints" around people they are not ready to disclose to yet. And when you think about the number of "hints" from the last few months--the nonbinary pin, the pronoun Insta story, David getting emotional talking about Pride Month on that podcast, and now these new Insta stories wearing those boots--it makes you wonder if it's all building toward something.

Whatever the case may be, it's still difficult to overlook how uncomfortable David looked at times in those videos today--even if he was playing things up. For my part, I would genuinely rather never have Georgia post anything about David again than see him in her posts knowing that he is uncomfortable with it. I also agree that her hunger for content seems to be increasing, but I would also like to hope that if David did seriously ask Georgia to stop filming--for any reasons--that she would do so.

So I suppose we'll have to see what (if anything) this all leads to, and what will happen if/when she films him again. Happy as always to hear others' thoughts in the comments...

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Do-Over-December 19th. Ice And Handcuffs. "Ice Cold." Herbert West X GN! Reader.

And we have another! A re-do of the first Herbert West thing I ever wrote! Another very fun addition to the fold! One that I hope you all thoroughly enjoy, we are just slamming through these Kinky December updates, and I am loving it!

—

Rating. NSFW. Length. 1.7K. (Old Length. 1.5K.)  Warnings. Teasing. Temperature Play. Restrained Reader. Implied Established Dom/Sub Relationship.

—

It was winter, and you fucking hated winter. You hated everything about it, from blizzards to ice that hides under light powdery snow, to thick disgusting slush, but mostly you hated the cold. Which meant that right now you hated the basement, it was freezing down there, so you had been avoiding going down there. 

Thing was that is where you typically met up with Herbert, so since you had been avoiding the basement that gave the impression that you had been avoiding him, which you supposed that you kind of had been unintentionally. 

You felt bad about that, and you missed him. In fact, you missed him a lot.

You thought you should find some way to make it up to him, it had been weeks since you spent any meaningful amount of time with him. If he spent the majority of time in the basement when he was home, and you weren’t going down there, no matter how much you missed him, then you needed to think of something to potentially entice him into spending some more time upstairs. Plus, to be fair, it was for you too.

One of the main things you both did in the basement, unsurprisingly, was hooking up. You typically loved it, the memories of it were all too fun to revisit. But the idea of being strapped down to that metal table in the dead of winter was something you wanted to avoid. You knew if you went down there and got in the heat of the moment, you wouldn’t be able to say no to him. 

You always had trouble saying no to him. He could be oddly persuasive, had some kind of hold over you, that tone he would take with you when he wanted something from you made you want to press your thighs together and rush to comply with even the most difficult and complex of his desires. 

While you didn’t want it right now due to the time of year, you typically did, it was one of the big reasons you loved hooking up with him in the basement. Being restrained was a big turn on for you, it always got to you terribly. He knew how much you enjoyed it and while he might not admit it he seemed to enjoy it just as much, if there is one thing Herbert loves is it is having control. 

You came in from outside, happy to be home for the night after such a long day, ready to get out of your winter clothes and warm up. Soon you had your jacket, hat and scarf off and left your boots by the door, rubbing your hands together, bag from shopping hanging off your wrist as you made your way to the kitchen. 

You wanted to make a cup of tea to help warm up and were surprised to see Herbert in the kitchen already. You let yourself smile upon seeing him sitting at the table, he was actually eating something for once, you set the bag down on the table as you greeted him,“Hey!”

“Hello.” It was casual, a glance up to you as you moved to get the kettle started on the stove as you tried to keep the conversation going, “How was your day?”

A sigh from him as you got the kettle going, and he responded. “Fine.”

He still had some work with him, papers sprawled out next to him, attention obviously more on that than you, which was fine. You got a mug out and the tea bags out after saying yours was fine too, average and fairly uneventful. 

It was quiet for a moment before he asked. “You went shopping?”

You perked up a little at that. Looking over your shoulder to him, he was eyeing the bag on the table, and you smiled as you responded, “I did.”

That was all you said before finishing making your tea, letting him stew on that for a moment before coming over to the table to join him, sitting down across from him,“Want to see what I got?”

You knew he was curious, even if he wouldn’t express that explicitly. The bag was black plastic, hiding your purchase from view, the implication of such a plain black bag wasn’t lost on him. 

“If you are in the mood to share, I suppose I can listen.” His tone was as flat and interesting as always.

You rolled your eyes a little and laughed as you picked the bag up, letting what he said go, instead deciding to just show him. You reached into the bag and your fingers closed on the box, and you pulled it out, casually tossing it onto the table, right into his line of sight and on top of his papers. 

Resting your chin on one hand, elbow on the table, picking up your mug and taking a sip from it, catching him looking at you over the frame of his glasses. He was still holding his pencil, and you wanted to laugh again from the look, but you held it back. 

He breaks the silence as he asks, “Handcuffs?”

“Mmhmm.” You hummed with a nod and set your mug back down. He turned his attention away from his work, dropping his pencil as he instead focused fully onto you, “May I ask why?”

“Why not?” You fired back with a smile. He had picked up the slim box and examined it, popping open one end and tipping the box, letting the black metal cuffs and keys slide into his open palm. 

You watch as he starts to turn them over in his hand, scrutinizing them as he says, “Seems a bit unnecessary.”

You looked at him as you inquired, “Unnecessary?”

He shrugs nonchalantly as he says, “Well, it’s a tad redundant, isn’t it? We already have the table downstairs.”

Might as well be honest. You took another sip from the steaming mug before saying in as casual a tone you could manage, “Perhaps we could use these in other places, when we aren’t in the basement.”

He had set the keys down after opening the cuffs, turning them over in his hand absentmindedly as he looked you over, expression harder as he said, “I thought you liked it down there.”

You rush to reassure him, “I do! I really do, it’s just, uh, a little cold right now in the winter.”

He said nothing. 

A pause and he got up. He came around the table and was right behind you, his hand on your shoulder, and he spoke to you again, in THAT tone, “Is that why you haven’t been coming down to see me?”

You couldn’t lie, not when he spoke to you like that, your throat is dry, just the way he spoke to you was already getting to you a little. It HAD been quite a while since you were last with him. You were in need. Lips open, and you speak, you don’t sound quite like yourself, “Yes.”

A hum from him, his hand ran over your shoulder, pushing the cardigan you had on down, you had a tank top on underneath, the sweater and coat were more than enough earlier, a thicker top would have been uncomfortable. You let him slip you out of it. Letting it pool around the legs of the chair you were seated in. 

The command was something you had missed far more than you had realized until he spoke it. “Hands. Behind your back.”

You did it without thinking. Who cares about the fact you were in the kitchen and Dan might come home soon, this is what you wanted, right? Then you felt the cuffs close around your wrists, they were cold, but you bared it, instead focusing on enjoying the feeling of the heavy metal weighing you down. 

You heard him step away. The way your arms were behind the kitchen chair, you couldn’t really turn to see where he was going. You heard him moving around behind you and then heard the sound of something opening and closing, the fridge?

He had come back to you, and you felt it against your neck, the sudden change in temperature making you jump, and you realized it wasn’t the fridge he had gone for but the freezer. One hand on your shoulder, holding you steady, making sure you couldn’t squirm away too much as his other one was busy dragging an ice cube over the side of your throat. You tried to move, but again he held you too well, you tried to shift away, his hand slid up from your shoulder and held your lower jaw tightly, dragging the ice over you. It was slowly melting, cold water dripping down, you could feel it soaking into the strap of your tank top already. 

“Wha-what are you doing, Herbert?” The question came out shakier than intended.

He leaned down, you could feel his hot breath next to your ear, the dichotomy between that and the now mostly melted ice on your shoulder made you shiver, “Proving a point.”

The way he said it, like he had that smug half smile on his face, somewhat amused around the edges.

What did he mean? 

He let go of your jaw and his hand travelled down, he gripped the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up, exposing your chest to him. That first piece of ice had totally melted, the evidence of it clear on your skin, the wet trails where he had moved it on you still visible. You jumped when you felt the fresh ice cube touch down on your collar bone, how many did he get? 

Where was he getting them from? He was still behind you, so you couldn’t tell. He moved it down further, down your chest, slowly, teasing you, you could feel goosebumps popping up in its wake as it trailed along your skin, and you found yourself still squirming, breathing harder, you finally replied, “And what point is that exactly?”

His other hand began to slide down, fingertips coming to rest at the edge of your pants as he circled one of your nipples with the ice, and you couldn’t hold back. 

His fingers rubbed you over your jeans, and you arched into his hands and moaned as an ice-cold rivulet of water ran down your stomach. You swore you could feel his smirk and how satisfied he was at how easy it was to get to you. You could also feel his breath on your ear again as he uttered, “That you can learn to like the cold.”

Fuck.

Did he always have to be right?

[captains-simp]

Wanda Maximoff ~ Bottled Up Feelings

Wanda Maximoff X fem!Reader Smut

Word count: 3,139

Includes: oral, fingering and scissoring

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Thank you for this." Your brunette friend said with a small smile for what must have been the hundredth time that night.

The team had been on a long, frustrating mission that had everyone exhausted. All anyone wanted to do was put their feet up or sleep the year away, eventually going off to do just that.

You and Wanda hadn't parted since you got back. You hadn't even needed to suggest a movie marathon as the pair of you went back to Wanda's room almost the moment you landed purely out of habit, after getting popcorn of course, and made yourself comfortable on her bed that had come to be as familiar as your own while Wanda scrolled mindlessly through Netflix.

Once you decided Wanda was taking too long looking for a movie you decided to steal the remote (claiming it was payback for all of the hoodies she had stolen from you) eventually streaming a series of some of your favourite horror films - something Wanda wasn't so keen on.

When you finally decided to call it a night on the movies Want a had been adamant you stay the night with her, telling you if you tried to get up to leave she would keep there with her powers. You weren't entirely sure she was joking.

You hardly needed the persuasion, you were always happy to spend time with your friend and you were glad she felt the same way.

When you came out to her a year ago she had been so understanding and supportive, much to your relief. Nothing changed between you and she never acted weird or uncomfortable around you like you knew some people would. She told you to stay in her room and sleep in her bed just as much as you had before. But that wasn't something you weren't sure if you should be happy about.

You had had a crush on Wanda for the longest time. As time went on you spent considerably more time together it was hard not to crush harder. Everything she did made your heart flutter. And those sleepovers? The way she always cuddled up into your side, the soft smile that played on her lips, the joyful laugh that filled the room (especially when it was from something you said), it had been impossible for you not to fall inlove with your best friend.

You had wondered before if Wanda was strictly into guys. It was impossible to tell with her as she never talked about crushes and became closed off when the convosation arrived. For all you knew she could be asexual or aromantic.

You tried not to be disappointed at that thought as you knew you should support her no matter what, but you couldn't shake the feelings you had for Wanda and that filled you with guilt.

It was only out of respect that you never made a move on her. You wanted to know she was open to something with a girl before you tried anything. And you didn't want to throw away what you had. That thought alone was enough to keep you in your lane.

Whenever you voiced these fears to Natasha when she told you to do something about your feelings (because you couldn't keep anything from the superspy) she told you that relationships were like a gamble. You could either throw the dice or skip your turn. It seemed the latter was becoming more likely.

"Stop thanking me!" You exclaimed with a smile as you pulled the duvet back and lay down next to her.

Wanda had often asked you to stay the night with her. A couple of times she had come into your room at ungodly hours of the mornings and asked to sleep in your bed which you always welcomed with open arms.

You knew her nightmares could be unkind, memories from her past resurfacing and her fears being acted out in scarring detail. She never wanted to talk about it though, so you comforted her by wrapping your arms around her tight and letting her know she was always going to be safe with you.

She seemed to think she burdened you with her worries and fears, but that was never the case and it never would be. You loved her and you would do anything for her.

Wanda was laying on her side with an amused grin and propping herself up on her elbow as she watched you get comfortable. She looked adorable. Wanda always did. You mimicked her position to face her and noticed she was studying you.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You asked in a light hearted tone and saw her smile in response.

"I already have plenty of pennies, thanks." She smiled and glanced away. It took everything in you not to kiss her there and then.

"Really, what's on your mind?" Wanda looked at you a little longer, as though contemplating her words, before speaking.

"What happened with that girl you met last week?" She asked curiously.

Now that was new. Wanda knew you hooked up with girls every so often (she didn't know that it was a lame attempt to get over the fact you were deeply inlove with her) but she never asked about them.

"Just the usual stuff." You shrugged as though the question hadn't taken you by surprise.

"What's the usual stuff?" You looked up at her to meet her eyes that didn't hint at any obvious emotion. She had beautiful eyes, they were perfect. Brown swirls that you always thought you could look at for hours, hoping it might really be a window to her soul and you could finally know what was going on in that head of hers.

"We went back to her place and had sex." You said bluntly, not knowing how much detail she wanted.

"Was it good?" Seriously who was she? She never asked you these things.

"Well she didn't need a map." You joked in an attempt to hide your confusion at her newfound curiosity in your sex life. Wanda didn't smile at your words, appearing lost in thought "Why?" You asked curiously.

"Don't you ever get attached? Develop feelings?" She asked, apparently ignoring my own question as she found interest in the pillow you were leaning on.

You could have burst into laughter at her question. You could have just blurted out "that would be kind of hard when I'm already head over heels for you", but you didn't.

"No. I don't see them after." You said, finding an interest in Wanda's pillow too.

The brunette fell quiet, apparently not having anything to say to that, not wanting the rare topic to end you continued.

"Have you been thinking about it lately?" You asked, afraid you were too blunt.

"Yes." She replied clearly. You hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"You want to hook up with someone?"

"Yes- no! I..." She sounded slightly panicked at first, but after a moment her voice dropped and shifted to a undeniably sad tone. Almost hopeless.

"What's stopping you?" You asked gently.

"I just...I don't want it to be with some random stranger." That was understandable. Lot of people felt the same way. Sex could be such a personal and sacred thing to people, something that's held close to their hearts and is purely an act of intimacy. You always thought that was beautiful and whished you coukd experience that. "I want it to be with someone I know... someone I trust and... someone I love." She finally looked up at you again as she breathed out slowly. "The person that I love."

She's in love? It was the only thing you could think. You wanted so desperately to ask who. For how long? When did it start? Why didn't she tell you?

"Who?" You asked. Your voice almost a whisper because you didn't want to risk Wanda hearing it break as you fought back tears.

"You." She replied at the same volume. You froze. Not believing what she said. This was completely uncharted territory for you. You didn't know what you were meant to do. So you did the only thing you knew how to do right. You kissed her.

Your hand cupped her cheek gently as your face became closer to hers, letting her know what you were about to do. She didn't object, instead she closed the distance between you.

Her lips were softer than they looked and felt perfect against your own. It was instantly addicting so you brought your other hand up to cup her other cheek and rolled over so you were partly ontop of her, never once disconnecting your lips.

You kissed her eagerly and longingly in hopes she understood that you had the same feelings for her. You had years of built up feelings to make up for, you were going to make it worth it if it was the last thing you did.

Wanda wrapped her hands around your neck and laced her fingers together as she pulled you towards her more. You happily let her do so and occasionally paused the kiss to let you breathe before going back to her.

You moved your legs so they were straddling Wanda's waist and you could be in the most comfortable position, the very concept of it giving you chills.

Bravely, you swiped your tongue across her lower lip to ask for permission. Although Wanda seemingly didn't understand what you were silently asking for, something that made you smile.

So you gently bit down on her lower lip, causing her to gasp out and moan. You made a mental note of how she responded to slight pain.

You slipped your tongue into her mouth and moaned as you explored it. It was like you needed to memorize every inch of her in case you could never do this again. You needed to treasure the moment and show Wanda just how much you cared.

"I love you too." You finally spoke. You could hear and feel her breath become shaky in nerves and it made you want to hold her close and comfort her forever.

"Show me." She whispered and you smiled.

You kissed her lips again briefly before switching your attention to her jaw. Your hands wandered down to the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head before throwing it across the room.

Your mouth almost fell to the floor when you realised she wasn't wearing a bra, forgetting you had both changed into pjs. It was dark in the room and you hadn't thought about that fact.

You slowly started to kiss down her neck, along her collarbone and finally planted butterfly kisses on her breasts. You heard Wanda gasp out at the motion and softly moan when you took her left nipple into your mouth.

Softly sucking on the bud gently, you pinched the other then switched, ensuring you gave them equal attention but eventually you felt Wanda push your head lower.

You smirked against her chest and oblidged to her clear wishes by kissing lower down her stomach and hooking your fingers under her waistband.

You pulled the fabric down slowly and kissed every inch of exposed skin before throwing the material to join her top.

Then you softly bit down on small patches of her skin and sucking on them softly to leave small marks along her thighs until Wanda grew impatient with you, groaning at what she thought was teasing rather than you cherishing the moment, you would be sure to clear that up layer.

You pulled her panties down and took a moment to beautiful sight before you and heavenly scent that had your scenes on overdrive. You smiled and instantly flickered your tongue against her clit.

She moaned out in surprise and pleasure, closing her eyes and putting her head back into the pillows as she laced her fingers through your hair.

You took two fingers and stroked them along her folds, smirking when you felt how wet she was against your fingers and relishing under the fact it was a result of your actions.

You moved away from her core to look up at her as you licked her juices off of your fingers with a proud smirk.

She stared down at you with lust in her eyes that made her even more beautiful.

Your mouth returned to her but this time sucked on her outer folds that were also soaked with her juices. You moaned into her when her arousal hit your taste buds again and dipped your tongue into her folds.

You dipped your tongue in further and heard her moan out your name, a sound that made your stomach flip. You took this as encouragement and started thrusting your tongue into her at a faster pace and rubbed your thumb in tight circles against her clit.

Wanda gripped your hair tightly as she moaned out more, her legs wrapping around your head perfectly to keep it securely in place as they began to shake.

Her breathing became fast and shallow as her grip on your hair tightened.

You rubbed harder and thrust your tongue faster until you felt a warm, sweet liquid against your tongue and Wanda screaming out in pleasure.

You looked up at her through hooded eyes as you eagerly licked up the cum she had spilt and moaned at the taste of it, instantly planning to taste it again at some point.

She looked so beautiful blissed out, more tender than you had ever seen her.

You leaned up and kissed Wanda passionalty as she did the same. You knew she could taste herself on your lips as you felt her smile against you at that fact.

"Now let me." Wanda whispered, her hand caressing your bare thigh that wasn't covered by your loose shorts.

"Wanda you don't ha-" Wanda silenced you by placing a slim finger over your lips.

"I want to. I want to make you feel good." She whispered again and pulled you closer by the back of your neck to bring you on for another kiss.

You leaned forward and kissed her passionately, not believing how soft her lips were and how perfect they felt against your own, fitting together perfectly.

She pulled you closer before rolling you over in a playful way that made you smile as she lay ontop of you. She kissed a path down you jaw and neck as her fingers continued to tease your thighs.

Her hand then came up to your waistband, momentarily tracing your hipbones, before slipping beneath the fabric of you shorts and panties.

You gasped out as fingers ghosted over your clit then adventures further to your folds.

Her fingers swiped through your folds a couple of times to gather your wetness on her fingers before slipping inside of you.

You moaned heavily at the feeling as Wanda sighed at the feel of your wet pussy around her fingers.

Her fingers extended fully inside you before retreating only to return again faster. You moaned as Wanda memorized every inch of your core and how it felt around her as she fingered you with earnest.

As her pace increased Wanda's free hand landed on your waist, holding your bodies close together as she leant in to kiss you again.

You eagerly complied as her fingers curled to hit an amazing nerve ending that had you clinging to Wanda's back and moaning the loudest.

"Wan..." You chanted breathlessly.

You squeezed your walls around Wanda's fingers as you approached your high. She took this with a new vigour and rubbed your clit firmly with her thumb, causing you to cum with a cry of her name.

She continued to lay ontop of you while you got your breath back, smiling down at you lovingly.

As she sat up slightly you were reminded of just how naked she was, and how she was right ontop of you. You were aching to feel your bare skin against hers.

You placed your hands on her waist and gently pulled her down onto her back as you sat up and grinned at her and the thoughts playing in your mind.

Wanda smiled back at you as she watched you quickly discard your shirt before pulling off your shorts and panties in one.

She bit her lip at the sight of you completely bare to her but you didn't give her a chance to stare as you were already pushing her legs apart and laying between them as you cupped her face.

"I wanna try something." You whispered, as though the experience was a secret that you two would share forever and guard with your lives. She nodded up at you, keeping eye contact as you lifted her left leg up and spread her other leg further apart, giving you the best access to her still glistening folds.

You could hear your steady breathing as you positioned yourself accordingly so your pussy hovered above Wanda's. You lowered yourself slowly and you both moaned at the contact and friction that was instantly created.

Wanda bucked her hips up when your clit glided over hers and your slick came together to help your movements.

You tried not to get too caught up in the pleasure at first, needing to be able to concentrate your attention on Wanda and the best movements.

You soon fell into the right rhythm, your breathy moans filled the room as you allowed yourself to fall flat against Wanda and kiss her deeply.

You hips rotated perfectly, yours and Wanda's folds glided over one another in was a blissful way you had never experienced.

The movements were making the pair of you breathe faster so you abandoned the kiss to place your forehead against Wanda's as your movements became more erratic.

You didn't want to cum until Wanda did, but the familiar coil in your lower stomach was becoming to tighten.

"Y/n!" Wanda moaned as her hips continued to buck against your own. The movements threw you off at first but your hips soon collided into one frantic movement.

You grinded your pussys together with vigour as you both chased your release with desperation, your combined wetness making the most lewd sound echo throughout the room and amplifying both of your arousals.

With one hard thrust of your hips you both came with a loud moan, clinging to each other and foreheads still connected as you rode out your high together, your hips twitching slightly until you eventually fell down beside Wanda, both of you still swimming in pleasure.

"Wow." Wanda barely managed to speak, exhaustion written into her voice.

"I love you." You muttered as you placed your fingers together.

"I love you too." Wanda smiled tiredly as she gave your hand a loving squeeze.

[t-lostinworlds]

Truth or Drink (Tom Holland)

[YouTube AU: Video 2]

a/n: this took a while asdfghjkl this was in my drafts since oct. at 7k already (but got distracted with other WIPs as always) and was suggested by this anon back in aug. so i’m sorry this took a so long hun. also, the gif took a fucking while too ‘cause we are extra in this house haha (i mean, i wanted the time in the vid to match the wc so ha). anyway, enough babbling and let’s get into the video! lol, i hope you guys enjoy this one!

summary: You and Tom do a couples Q&A where you spilled steamy secrets with the help from alcohol. pairing: tom holland x fem!reader warnings: dialogue bonanza (lots of laughing and asking), alcohol consumption, secret spilling (from both parties), teasing from everyone (will include dirty jokes from the lads), mentions of smut & risque aka sex-themed questions. word count: 14.2k+ (aha enjoy!)

☰ youtube channel | previous video << ǁ >> next video ☰ masterlist on bio & pinned post

⚠ DISCLAIMER: this is a multi-part (not a series) which is basically one-shots happening in the same universe meaning you don’t need to read the previous one to understand this one since they are not heavily connected plot wise. although each fic does happen chronologically, you don’t need to read them in order much like how you don’t need to watch youtube videos in order.

-:-:-:-:-

You knew something was about to happen the moment you walked into the dining area, the way Tom immediately went to latch onto you like a koala bear—as if he hasn't seen you just minutes before—tells all.

"What are you up to now?" you asked with a playful scrunch of your nose.

You rested your hands on his shoulders, the fabric of his pink hoodie—while you wore his other pink hoodie, outfits not at all planned since you just took the first thing you saw in his closet—soft to the touch as you took a glance at the camera that was set up at the head of the dining table. The greenery of the outside world behind the glass doors served as a backdrop to the shot.

The crease between your brows deepened at the sight, gaze landing back on the boy attached to your hip who was hugging you sideways with a certain glow in his eyes.

"I'm not up to anything," Tom denied, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck to litter the skin with sweet and soft kisses. Although the gesture made your heart melt, it also made your suspicion grow. You just know there was more to this than meets the eye.

Strong arms staying around your torso, Tom pulled away slightly so he could meet your gaze again, a certain smile growing on his lips, one you know too well. It was the usual smile he wears whenever he wants something from you, a favor perhaps. An all too powerful grin that had you made him get away with things—mostly stupid ones—easily that you aren't exactly proud to admit.

"Tom," you warned with a raise of a brow, enough seriousness and command in your tone that he was quick to give in.

"Okay, okay, we're shooting the next video," he chuckled, tracing your jaw with the tip of his nose before giving it a soft peck. "Which I am hoping you'll do with me still," he murmured, placing another kiss on your cheek before pulling away to look at you fully as he flashed you a not-so-innocent smile.

Bingo.

Tom just doesn't suddenly become so clingy—well, he normally is but more than usual anyway—especially out of nowhere without it having an underlying reason.

You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically. You stayed silent as you weighed your odds, if the enjoyment of making the video was worth it for you to endure the obvious embarrassment that would come with it. You do love this YouTube thing he's got going on, you truly do enjoy being a part of it. But with the things he's spilled in the last video, you just want to make sure that this time won't be too much, though you highly doubt it.

It was hilarious how his bottom lip started to go at your reaction, eyes turning rounder, cuter that would give Puss in Boots a run for his money. And just as you counted in your head, three, two, one—

"Please, darling? Do it with me?" Tom cooed, placing his head on your shoulder as he gave your waist a loving squeeze, fluttering his eyelashes at you in the most adorable of ways with that cute pout to match. It was his signature look whenever he wanted something, the look of handsome and adorable persuasion. "I'll keep the secret-spilling at a minimum, love. And besides, we can always edit it out."

You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head at the fact that you're saying yes either way. You can never say no whenever he puts on that very persuasive face of his, can never resist him even if you tried. And of course, Tom knows this power he has over you, and he's mastered a way on how and when to use it to his advantage.

You aren't exactly proud to say that he has never failed once, his tactic very effective and that's putting it lightly. It's sneaky and annoying sometimes but it's still cute nonetheless.

Though, never did he once abuse this weakness of yours, only using it with the little things—like letting him sneak in some snacks on set when he was instructed not to or when he wants to do certain stuff—because when it's something serious and you say 'no,' then he's quick to listen and settle when you've made your final decision. He knows you only have the best intentions when it comes to his safety and just him in general, so there's really no doubt on Tom's behalf when it comes to following you on that.

"Why me? Why not give the other boys a chance to be in the spotlight?" you proposed, not giving him the satisfaction of winning just yet.

Tom shrugged with a wide smile. "The fans love you," he hummed.

The reception of the last video was mostly positive. Maybe it was the fact that you've been with Tom for a couple years already.

Your relationship was private of course, but it wasn't a secret. It was relatively the both of you showing glimpses of it every now and then online. So, compared to when the news first broke out, this time was a bit calmer. There are still trolls and haters—they're always going to be there unfortunately—but you've learned to shut them out, turning your focus more on the ones who are very positive and supportive. They should be the only ones who should be given attention to, no point wasting your energy on random keyboard warriors.

"You mean they love it when I make fun of you?" you said, laughter escaping your lips soon after when Tom buried his face back on the crook of your neck as he groaned in dismay.

Let's just say his fans quite enjoyed how you handled him in the last video, the teasing, the banter, the whole lot. Tom hasn't been able to escape the countless clips that are circulating the good old internet. No matter which platform he uses, a clip or meme is always there to haunt him. Most of them vary from him screaming and wriggling in pain; laughing like a hyena while also wriggling in pain; the random facial expressions he's made; and even sometimes, a snapshot of you looking at him in great disappointment and/or embarrassment. That's just some among the plethora of other memes.

Tom had seen it coming of course, but it doesn't mean it's any less embarrassing, especially with how clueless he seemed when it came to women.

"Unfortunately, that too," he grumbled.

"Okay then, might as well give them more content," you teased, Tom pulling away again to gawk at you with a look of feign betrayal crossing his features. You could only laugh at that, giving his jutted out lip a kiss to replace it with one of his many sweet smiles. Despite you saying it in a joking manner, he can't really deny that that would happen either way. After all, no matter what he does, he will always be a walking meme.

Tom finally lets you go after one more peck on the cheek, guiding you towards the seat by the other end of the table soon after. He helped you in like the gentleman that he is, a kiss landing on top of your head once you were seated before he made his way towards his place.

"What are we doing this time?" you asked when Tom sat down on the chair across from you.

And as if on cue, Harry walked into the dining area with two bottles of gin on hand, Harrison following suit with a bowl of half-sliced limes along with Tuwaine with a bucket of ice and two Collins glasses.

"Truth or drink," Harry said with a wide grin, lifting the bottles of Aviation gin to further prove his point.

"You guys chose me to do this with him because I'm a lightweight, which means I'm more likely to talk, didn't you?" you said, narrowing your eyes at each of them as they placed their respective items right in front of you in the middle of the table.

All three boys gasped exaggeratedly at your accusation, shaking their heads as they made their way behind the camera, chorusing a bunched of:

"Oh no, of course not."

"That was not the plan."

"We would never."

You could only roll your eyes at them, playfully of course, turning back to Tom who was quick to throw his hands up in surrender once he took in your expression of pure suspicion.

"I swear, I just want to do this with you, plain and simple," he confessed, though his follow up sentence made you think that it wasn't as plain and simple. "But you are very funny when you have alcohol in your system."

"Does that mean I'm not when sober?" You raised your brow at the man across you, sitting straight up as you clasp your hands together, resting it on the table to seem serious.

Tom shook his head frantically. "No! You're still very funny sober!" he rushed. "Love, you know what I meant," he added with a whine, head dropping low once you let out a laugh, only lifting it back up to shoot you another pout. He can be quite gullible sometimes and you honestly love it, love teasing him about.

"Besides, it's a couples Q&A and the only couple here are you two so there aren't really any options. The only difference is that it has alcohol to spice things up a little," Harry said, now in his place behind the camera just like before.

"With equally spicy questions," Harrison added with a wriggle of his brows, coming back up on the head of the table to place a stack of white cards to which you assumed was where the questions were written.

"You guys wrote the questions didn't you? Okay, this is a set up," you joked.

"They're harmless questions I swear!" Harrison defended with a laugh before returning back to his place by the camera. Though knowing them for as long as you have, you've learned to never trust those words fully. It was highly expected that the questions aren't going to be simple, let alone safe for work.

"But if you're not comfortable doing it, it's totally fine, darling," Tom said, smiling sweetly as he grabbed your hands across the table and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He knows you have never been an avid drinker. As you've said, you are lightweight. So, if ever you wanted to back out, he's just making sure you know that you have the option to.

"No, I'm fine with it. This will be fun," you said, flashing him a true, reassuring smile of your own, squeezing his hand in return for good measure. "But can I at least have some juice or something? I'm not drinking gin straight," you added.

"Figured you'd say that," Tom said with a wide grin, rushing up from his seat and disappearing into the kitchen. He came back not long after with a bottle of orange juice on one hand all while holding a spoon and paring knife on the other. "Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice," he sang the good old Snoop Dogg classic no matter how corny, placing the bottle juice right beside the gin on the head of the table.

You narrowed your eyes at your man. "You seem prepared Tom."

"Nope, I just know you too well," he hummed, giving you a sweet peck on the forehead before he was back on his seat across you.

"Right, let's give the people what they want," you said, rubbing your hands together with a wide smile.

It was Tom's turn to look at you skeptically. "Why do I have a feeling that we'll just take turns in exposing each other?"

You tilted your head at him with a grin, shrugging your shoulders and said,

"How bad can it be?"

***

"And we are rolling."

"What's up guys! Tom Holland here," he introduced with a loud clap. "I'm back with another video joined by none other than the gorgeous Y/N." You waved at the camera with a sweet smile at the mention of your name. "The rest of the gang are behind the camera as per usual," Tom added, the lads cheering at their cue unenthusiastically and totally not in sync, chuckles and giggles following soon after.

"You can feel the excitement in the room," Tom said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "Anyhow, since lovely Ryan Reynolds sent me a case of gin just recently, I thought; why not put it to good use?" Tom shot the camera a knowing look. "Hashtag not sponsored but should be!" he yelled, making you jump slightly at the sudden loud sound.

"Do you have to be so loud?" you grumbled, playfully covering your ears in the process.

"Oh, sorry love," Tom chuckled, shooting you a sweet smile before turning back to the camera, finger pointed at it as he said, "But Ryan, my DMs are always open."

"Always looking for someone to replace me," you sighed, shaking your head dejectedly as you turned to the camera with a deep frown.

"Ah, here we go," Tom groaned, shooting you a playful glare because he knows that the teasing would only get more and more prominent from here on out.

"What? You and I both know I've got a lot of competition," you said as a matter of fact, leaning back on your seat with arms crossed over your chest. "Mainly Jake G. and Harrison, with a couple of variations here and there but you get what I mean."

Tom shook his head at you with a teasing roll of his eyes. "Once again, my girlfriend everyone," he said to the lens with a tight lip smile before turning back to you with a deadpan expression. You only shrugged in response, flashing him an innocent smile.

"Anyway, a fan suggested this in the comments of the last video so today, we're going to be doing Truth or Drink," he continued, turning back to face the camera. "Rules are simple, we take turns on reading out the questions that are written on these cards right here"—Tom lifted the stack of white, rectangular cards before placing them back on the table—"and we either answer them truthfully or we take a drink."

"Oh and a little disclaimer," you paused as you looked at the camera. "The lads wrote the questions so we have no idea what's in the cards nor did we have any involvement in the choosing of certain topics which are possibly going to be discussed in this video," you added, feeling like it was a fact that needed to be said.

"Parental guidance is advised," Tom chuckled.

"They're not that bad you divs," Harrison grumbled.

Now you're certain on who wrote most of the questions, he's been keen on taking offense whenever anyone gets suspicious over them. "We'll be the judge of that," you stated, raising a brow at Harrison before turning back to Tom.

"Let's get right into it shall we?" Tom proposed. You gave him a nod in response, jutting out two thumbs up for good measure. "Ladies first," he said, flashing you a charming grin as he gestured towards the pile of cards.

You reached over to the pile, making sure to pick the card in the middle just to make sure that it was completely random. You adore the lads, but knowing how mischievous they can get, you've learned to always keep one eye open with regard to everything that they do. Plus, it was so easy to set it up for you to pick a certain question given that it was only you and Tom taking turns on picking a card.

"We are starting off with something a tad bit dark huh." You gave the lads a swift glance before turning to the card you had on hand. "If I killed someone would you help me cover it up?" you read out loud, placing the card on the discarded pile before your gaze landed on Tom who gave you a small, secretive nod 'yes' which only made you giggle.

Tom leaned forward as he rested his elbow on the marble surface, hand playing with his chin with his eyes on the ceiling to seem that he was deep in thought. He turned back to you and said, "Do we not get any context? Was it an accident or was it on purpose? Was it due to hate or fear? Was it justified?"

"It's a yes or no answer Tom," you laughed.

"Well then, you already know the answer but for legal purposes," Tom paused, reaching for the bucket of ice and putting some in his glass. He poured the gin on top of that and then added a dash of lime, swirling around the glass to mix them all together. "My lips are sealed," he chuckled, lifting the glass up to his lips and taking a drink. "Oh, that's good stuff," he commented, taking another sip before putting the glass back down.

"Hypothetically, if you were going to help, you'll probably be the one who'll get us caught if I'm being honest," you giggled to which Tom threw his head back with a laugh.

"Yeah, you'll tell me what you did, I'll get shocked and as we're getting stuff to you know, hypothetically hide the body, I'll go 'I can't believe you killed someone' in public and then someone will hear and call the police and we're done."

You burst out in a hearty laugh at that, nodding your head in agreement. "That's exactly how it's going to happen."

It was Tom's turn to pick a question, his grin growing wider as his eyes scanned the card in his fingers. "What's the most embarrassing thing you've done in front of me?" he asked, his features brightening in excitement because he already knows the answer. There wasn't really much to begin with other than that one incident that will always haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Do you want me to tell them the story?" you sighed, leaning back on your chair with palms flat on the table. It wasn't one of your finest moments that's for sure and Tom hasn't been letting you hear the end of it. In fact, it was one of his favourite stories involving you both.

"It's up to you, love. You don't have to if you don't want to." Tom shrugged with a smirk, reaching for your glass to get your drink made. "But that moment was so adorable for me though, embarrassing for you but very adorable for me," he added with a wink.

"Adorable or ego boosting?" you pointed out with a raise of your brow.

"Both," Tom laughed, adding some ice in your glass and pouring just the right amount of gin soon after.

You watched with an adoring smile as he poured in the orange juice, the sound of silverware and glass clinking together filling the air as he mixed up the liquids. He then squeezed a bit of lime in your drink, taking the paring knife soon after to slice up another lime in a thin circle, making a small slit in the middle so he can put it on the rim of your glass easily. Tom can be extra at times, of course he felt the need to decorate your drink, even when it wasn't exactly necessary but you wouldn't want it any other way.

"Look at you being a bartender," you teased, Tom looking up from his task to shoot you playful wink with a smug smirk to match.

"You love to see it."

You shrugged, not at all denying his claim because well, you do love seeing it.

"Here you go, mi lady," he hummed, handing you your beautifully decorated drink with a proud grin on his lips.

"Thank you, kind sir."

As much as how refreshing the cocktail looked in its cold glass and bright, orange colored glory, you know you had to be strategic with drinking. Because alcohol boosts your confidence, it makes you brave, it makes you say things you wish you hadn't when sober. And with you being lightweight, it isn't exactly ideal to be happy-go-lucky with it, especially knowing how these questions can go from one thing to another real quick.

You thought it's best to share embarrassing things that you can live with to keep the drinking at a minimum, rather than take too much alcohol too fast and say worse things down the line because you got somewhat tipsy or downright drunk. There's really no way of knowing how hard it hits given that different types of alcohol affect you in different ways.

"Okay, it was when we first met, which obviously doesn't make it any less embarrassing, first impressions and all that," you started, sitting straight up as your fingers drummed around the cool surface of your glass. "Me and a friend of mine were at this park and decided it would be fun to rent out these bikes to get around quicker, so we did. Lo and behold, Tom and Harrison were also at said park—"

"Oh yeah, I remember this," Harrison laughed. "This is going to be good."

You shot the blonde lad a quick glare before continuing. "Luck wasn't on my side that day—well, depends on how you look at things because I did meet Tom and seem to have gotten far," you laughed towards the camera, giving Tom a swift glance who was quick to lock eyes with you as he nodded agreeably with a chuckle. "But add that to me being very clumsy and simply put, I fell off the bike right in front of him," you sighed dejectedly, heat coating your cheeks as the lads chuckled in their seats, purely in amusement and not at all in a demeaning way.

"Go on love, let's hear the full thing," Tom encouraged, sitting back on his chair with his arms crossed over his chest to relax, attention fully on you as if he hasn't heard this story many times before. He genuinely does love hearing it. As you've said, it was one of his favourites.

"I'm getting there," you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at Tom who only flashed you an adorable, bright smile, knowing that if he does that, you can't stay mad at him. With a another sigh, you continued, "As we were riding our bikes, we saw him and Harrison sitting on this random bench from afar doing, I don't know, maybe they were on a date or something—"

"Darling, don't try and steer the topic here," Tom laughed. You stuck out your tongue at him—yes, very mature—his laughter only growing louder at your reaction.

"I'm a big fan of the Marvel movies, so obviously, I knew who he was. I was trying to keep my cool, you know, I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of him and thought I'll just ride pass, don't want to disturb whatever they had going on. But as soon as we got near to where they were sat, he looked towards my direction and we made eye contact—"

"The power I have," Tom crooned with a smug smile, earning a pointed eye-roll from you.

"Oh shut up. You know that wasn't the sole reason why I fell," you scoffed. "The chains on my bike went loose so I had no full control over it. We weren't going slowly as well because this friend of mine thought it was a good idea to one up each other so we kept going faster and faster, racing towards who knows what.

"So, my next option was to just plant my foot on the ground to stop it right? But as I've said, luck wasn't on my side that day. Before I could even do it, a rock went under the front wheel—which I didn't see given that I was distracted, you lot know why—and completely took me off balance and the bike went sideways real quick that I didn't have any time to react at all. And...did I roll a few times?" You turned to your boyfriend.

"Twice," he confirmed, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he tilted his head at you sweetly.

"Now, I don't see why you find this story adorable." You narrowed your eyes at your man.

"Not the actual accident, darling. It's what happened after that I found adorable. You were so cute being all shy and embarrassed," Tom defended with a pout. "And you know for a fact that whenever I see you with the smallest scrape or cut I panic and fuss over you immediately."

"You do. A bit too overdramatically," you giggled. It was a bit much sometimes how he worries but that's just Tom being the caring and overprotective boyfriend that he is. "Anyway, so yes, I rolled on the ground twice but all I remember was that I was already lying on my back, watching the sky while my knees, forearms up to my elbows and palms were burning. Then I saw Tom approaching and I swear I was just wishing that the ground would swallow me up right then and there," you finished.

"I quickly rushed to her aid, because you know, I'm Spider-Man," Tom added with a cocky shrugged, arms open wide as if to showcase himself.

There was a loud, collective groan from the lads which earned a laugh from you and a sound of pure protest from Tom.

"It's true!" he exclaimed. "Anyway, she then went, 'oh, my knight and shining armour, my handsome Prince Charming'," Tom gushed, voice at a higher pitch with the utmost exaggeration as he placed the back of his hand over his forehead. "And I went, 'don't worry princess, I'm here to save you,' and then we kissed and lived happily ever after," he concluded with the cheekiest smile.

"We remember this story very differently." You shook your head at him with a hearty laugh. This boy is always something else. "But fine, I'll give you the Prince Charming part because you did look like it.

"What you said was, 'miss, are you alright?' which was very formal of you, especially with the accent." You turned to the camera with a suggestive wiggle of your brows, making Tom drop his head shyly with a chuckle as his cheeks turned slightly pink. "And no, we didn't kiss. You don't kiss people you just met Thomas, get a hold of yourself. He helped me up and was kind enough to offer to take me to the hospital which wasn't needed since it was just a few cuts and scrapes but still insisted that I get checked. Who knew you'd be overprotective since day one," you laughed.

Tom shrugged with a chuckle. "We got to know each other while in the hospital and after she got cleaned up, I thought, I liked talking to her and I really don't want to say goodbye just yet. So, I invited her to lunch which she surprisingly said yes," he teased, sarcasm laced in his tone at his last sentence as he shot the camera a knowing and smug look. You kicked him lightly under the table, the action catching him off guard making him let out a yelp.

"It was more of me being polite because you helped and that. Didn't want to seem rude by saying no," you said, Tom gasping in full offense at your words. You let out a laugh as you rushed, "I'm kidding! Of course I wanted to go to lunch with you. It was impossible to say no because you've been really sweet and a real gentleman that day. And well, it was fun hanging out with you."

Tom smiled widely at that, nothing but pure love coating his features as he held your gaze, hand sneaking over to yours that was on the table and giving it a quick but loving squeeze.

"Where did Harrison go?" Harry wondered, the blonde boy suddenly turning silent and surely enough when you gave him a swift glance, he was already blushing.

"I had my friend with me, Tom had Harrison, you do the math," you said plainly, laughter laced in your tone.

"Oh, so you got some that day," Tuwaine chuckled, nudging the boy beside him with his elbow.

"Shut up, Tuwaine," Harrison grumbled, swatting away his friend lightly.

"But in conclusion, I am a superhero in real life," Tom stated proudly, swiping away the imaginary dust that was lying on his shoulder. He turned to the camera with a bright and wide smile. "But I do thank that bike every day."

"A bit sadistic but okay," you added, looking at Tom skeptically with a scrunch of your nose.

"No! I meant we wouldn't have gotten to know each other if that didn't happen," Tom rushed, lips turning into a pout when you only did nothing but laugh. "You're mean."

"You're just too adorable not to pick on," you giggled, his pout turning more prominent at your words.

You so badly wanted to get up off your seat and give him a proper kiss, but those things are always reserved privately. You two had never been big with public displays of affection, just the casual holding hands and occasional hugs. There are a few instances where you'll sneak a quick kiss while hanging out with friends but that's different compared to it being on tape for the whole world to see later on.

"Anyhow, what's the most embarrassing thing that you have done in front of me?" You asked back, your turn to grin wide because you know which story it was going to be, the way Tom's cheeks were quick to be dusted red was a clear indication that you were right.

"I'm smooth as hell, would never embarrass myself in front of a lady," he said casually, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back on his chair, all cool and suave.

"Oh shut up and tell the story," you said with a playful roll of your eyes, Tom letting out a shy chuckle before he leaned on the table.

"Right, it was our second date and I split my trousers open," he said, short and sweet, though his blush was already deepening because Tom knows the sharing won't stop there.

"Wait, how open?" Tuwaine asked.

"Like full on, centre to back, underwear and inner thighs with a bit of butt showing open. It would have been a bit better if I wore black pants—boxers to the American people—and black trousers right? But me being unlucky, I went for light-coloured denim jeans and black pants that day so it's fully obvious that I did ripped my trousers open," he chuckled shyly, hand going to rub at his shoulder, body slightly crouched as he refused to look away from his glass of gin.

"Go on Thomas, let's hear the full thing," you prodded, throwing his previous words right back at him.

He lifted his head up to shoot you a playful glare, though sat straighter anyway, elbows now on the table with his hands clasped together as he got ready to tell his story. "We were well underway our second date, a simpler one which was a walk in a somewhat less crowded park—"

"What's with you two and parks?" Harrison pointed out with a chuckle.

"Disaster just waiting to happen as you can tell," Tom laughed.

"We've steered clear from parks after all these incidents," you joked with a giggle.

"I did a flip and didn't land the right way was basically what happened," Tom continued, turning to the camera with a look of dismay. "We were walking by a couple of street dancers who were practicing a routine and they were doing all sorts of flips and tricks. She stopped walking completely and watched—wait, correction, stared at this certain bloke who was doing backflips—"

"I was not staring," you butted in. "I was just watching him do his thing and said how cool it was. And why are you making it seem like it's my fault?" you gasped, placing a hand over your heart, feign offence crossing your features.

"I'm not!" Tom laughed, hands up in surrender before he crossed his arms over his chest. "All I'm saying was that I was trying to impress you, which is why I offered to show you a flip. And as everyone in this room knows, I do the stupidest things when trying to impress a girl, especially when I like her that much."

"I was already impressed by you as is Tom, you didn't need to do a flip," you said as a matter of fact, small giggles escaping your lips as you looked at him with nothing but pure adoration. Tom felt his heart melt at the sight and more by your words. "And besides, I already knew you could do it. But somehow you felt the need to prove yourself after you saw me complimenting that dancer," you added.

"It's what you call ego, Tom," Harry laughed.

"Shut up, Harry." Tom shot his brother a glare though chuckled right after because it was in fact a bit true.

It was the silliest thing thinking back on it now, how he just said 'you want to see me do a flip?' out of the blue. You furrowed your brows at him in response, though your smile was laced with amusement. He just wanted to impress you as he'd said. And fine, maybe his ego got struck at teeny bit, and maybe he felt a little jealous that your attention got torn off of him because he truly did like you that much.

But at the end of the day, even though he had a little mishap, it all worked out so he wasn't at all complaining. "Anyway, so I did the flip, completely disregarding the fact that my shoes were slippy and my trousers were tight. I did land upright and not on my face this time so that's something," Tom chuckled. "But my right foot slipped so I was full on going on a wide split which I normally can't do since I am not flexible enough and proceeded to fall on my bum.

"The moment I heard the sound I instantly knew and just went, 'oh no' and remained on the ground because I didn't know what to do then. I was already embarrassed because I slipped, do I really want to tell her I tore open my trousers too?" Tom laughed timidly, the blush on his cheeks turning redder as he rubbed the back of his neck in utter embarrassment.

"I kind of knew right away though because I did hear something rip," you giggled. "He then just slowly stood up, hands behind, flat on his bum and said, 'I split my trousers open' in the smallest voice like a kid who's scared to tell their mum they fell or they'll get scolded. Plus his face was beet red, just like now." You pointed towards your boyfriend, who in turn stuck his tongue out at you as his blush turned into an even deeper shade of crimson.

"Thank God I wore a jacket that day and I was able to at least hide it until we got back to the car or else someone would've clocked it, took a picture, posted it on the internet and it would've made things much worse," Tom pointed out with a chuckle, glad that there was no paparazzi or it would've been a nightmare. "And the fact that you tried so hard not to laugh but still failed made me feel so embarrassed that I was quick to think that that was it. I ruined my chances, no more third date," he added as he turned to you with a small pout.

"I couldn't help laughing because it was the most adorable thing how you went from being all confident and cocksure on doing a flip to this shy boy who refused to look me in the eyes without turning even redder," you said, pure amusement laced in your tone. "But no, that incident made me like you more, it was just too endearing. Third date never left the table after that," you concluded with a sweet smile which only made Tom's grin grow wider.

"Even though she laughed, she was so sweet and kind about it. We had to cut our date shor—actually no, we didn't. We went back to your place and decided to do a movie marathon instead," Tom said fondly, face glowing with joy as the memory brought nothing but warmth across his chest.

"Yeah, with you wearing a pair of my sweatpants," you giggled, mirroring his expression as your mind recalled the sweet moment of you and him, simply cuddled up on the couch.

"And that's on getting the girl by splitting your trousers open," Tom said with a smug smile, pointing at the camera as he shot it a knowing look with a wriggle of his brows.

"And getting the boy by falling off a bike," you added, doing exactly what he did as you turned to face the lens.

"Look at us," Tom gushed, looking back at you with a smile, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. "Hey, look at us."

"Look at us. Who would've thought?" you giggled, giving his hand a squeeze in return.

You were always quick to catch on what he was trying to do that Tom couldn't help but smile widely, heart melting ten times over at the thought of you knowing him so well. "Not me," Tom chuckled, letting go of your hand and holding up his palm for a high-five to which you gladly obliged with laughs of your own.

"You two are made for each other," Harry chuckled with a shake of his head, now just getting that you two were recreating the famous Paul Rudd meme.

"My turn right?" Tom asked. You nodded with a hum as you pushed the pile of cards towards him. He let out a loud scoff once he read the question, his reaction making you raise a brow in both curiosity and slight dread. "Be honest," he said as he looked up from the paper, gaze landing on you. "Who do you love more, me," he paused for dramatic effect, narrowing his eyes at you before continuing, "Or Tessa?"

You let out a small groan as you hang your head low, fingers tracing the side of your cold glass. You let out a sigh of defeat before you met Tom's expectant gaze. "I can't possibly answer that question," you grumbled, bringing the glass up to your lips as you took a swift drink before placing it back down.

"That was such a tiny sip," Harrison pointed out.

"Alright, alright, I guess we can tell who the bad influence here is," you said with a teasing roll of your eyes, but still took another drink anyway, taking in more of it this time around. You just want to play the game fair and square. "You actually made that really well. It's really good," you hummed at Tom as you placed your drink back down, the lad grinning widely in response.

"Why thank you, darling," Tom crooned, voice smooth with a pride-filled smile, pushing over the pile of cards back in the middle of the table to get you to ask the next question.

"Okay, who wrote this?" You turned to the boys behind the camera with a raise of your brow. "If the alcohol wasn't going to do it, then this will definitely get the video restricted, unless you're going to bleep some words out?" You turned to Harry.

"I've got that covered," Harry laughed.

Glancing back at the card you had on hand, you asked, "If our sex life was porn, what genre would it be?" You looked up at Tom to see him try his best to hold back a smirk.

"Nope, not answering that," he laughed with a shake of his head as he lifted his glass off the table. "Mainly because there are too many genres that it would fit for me to only pick one," Tom muttered softly against his drink as he looked at you through his lashes. His words were muffled but you still heard it, you were closer to him after all. You felt your cheeks heat up at that, even more so when your man shot you a teasing wink before downing the shot of gin not long after.

Tom set his glass down and reached over to take another card. "What does your family think of me?" he asked with a clear of his throat.

"Well..." You slowly dragged your drink closer to you, Tom's mouth falling agape that you couldn't help but burst into a hearty laugh. "I'm kidding! You already know how much they love you," you said. "I mean, my parents call him 'son' so." You shrugged as you turned to the camera. Tom puffed out his chest all proud with a very smug smile on his lips. You rolled your eyes, sighing as you added, "They probably even love you more than they love me."

Tom chuckled, "My family loves you more than they love me, too—"

"I can vouch for that," Harry intervened.

"Thanks, Harry," Tom said sarcastically, flashing his brother a forced smile. Turning back to you, he finished, "So, I guess we're even."

You could only nod with a soft giggle, reaching over to the stack of cards to keep the pace going. "Lads! What's with these kinds of questio—you know what, I don't even expect any less from you guys," you sighed, pursing your lips as you re-read the question again before sitting straight up and looked into Tom's eyes. "What would you do if you caught me watching porn?" you asked.

"Watch it with you and help get it done, duh?" he answered without hesitation, leaning back on his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Have done a couple times actually," Tom murmured, somewhat to himself, though not really since everyone in the room—and pretty sure the camera—heard it.

"Tom!" you hissed.

You felt your body tingle, legs instinctively closing together as the countless moments it happened replayed itself inside your brain. Although what he said wasn't false, it wasn't the full truth either. He didn't exactly catch you red handed, never did since you don't watch porn often.

All you did was asked him—merely out of curiosity—what type he mostly watches. Your question sparked an idea in his head which led to you sitting in between his legs, bare back against his naked chest as the laptop sat right in front of you both with the video of his choice.

Tom then made his way with you while you watched, making sure you never take your eyes off the couple on screen or else. He was always fully in control over you every time you do it, his fingers sometimes delicate, mostly rough, touch hot and heavy all over your skin, lips warm on your neck, teeth sharp against your bare shoulder as he brings you to the edge over and over and over with nothing but his hands. And once the video ends, Tom will take it upon himself to re-enact the whole of it with you—if you could still take it of course—bringing what was on screen to real life, full recreation from start to finish.

Best believed you're properly blissed out at the stop of every play.

Your boyfriend's eyes widened once he realized the actual volume of his voice, face turning a deep shade of red, sitting straight abruptly as he rushed, "No! Wait—dammit." Tom casted his eyes down shyly when the boys let out exaggerated gasps and sounds of disapproval, a telltale sign that they already heard it. "I'm sorry, darling." He met your gaze again as he shot you a sheepish smile, his head tilted to the side guiltily to which you only responded with a shake of your head.

Typical Thomas.

"Bleurgh, too much info," Harrison gagged, the other boys following suit with their own sounds of repulsion.

"Oh fuck off you divs. You guys wrote the questions so obviously, you wanted to find out," Tom countered, shooting the lads a glare each.

"We didn't expect you to actually answer it!" Harry defended.

"We're cutting that whole part out, no way that's going up online," you grumbled, eyes staring at nothing but your drink as you tried to hide the obvious embarrassment that's coated your features.

Tom reached across the table to give your hand a squeeze, you meeting his gaze to see him mouth a gentle 'I'm sorry.' You flashed him a sweet smile, squeezing his hand in return to tell him that it was alright. It wasn't live so there wasn't any real harm done, aside from future jokes from the boys. That you can deal with than having that confidential information on the internet which will then follow you around for the rest of eternity.

Letting go of your hand, Tom sat straighter and turned to the camera. "If you guys are wondering why there's a jump cut and my face is suddenly so red, it's because I spilled something I shouldn't have that we had to cut it out. And no, it's something you'll never find out," he chuckled shyly, knowing that once the video goes out, fans are going to be so annoyed and will pester him—and everyone in the room—nonstop to try and find out what was cut.

Better that, than embarrassing you in front of millions though, so he'll deal with them no problem. Because as promised, if you weren't comfortable with it staying in the video, then it gets cut out, no questions asked. You and what you're comfortable with always come first in Tom's book.

"Yet again, thank God we didn't do this live," you muttered with a playful roll of your eyes.

Tom shot you one last apologetic smile before he cleared his throat, "Right, moving on." He shifted in his seat and took another card from the pile. "What's the one thing you'd change about me?" he asked.

"Your height," you answered without missing a beat. You chewed on your lip to suppress a grin but still failed miserably, especially when Tom looked at you with his jaw hanging and his eyes wide open.

A chorus of 'ooh's erupted from the boys which only prompted a laugh from you, the joyous sound growing louder when they started to rub it to Tom even more.

"Pfft, apply ice on the burnt area," Harry said as he blew out his cheeks.

"Mate, she's just bodied you with that," Tuwaine tutted at Tom, rising up from his seat soon after to offer you a high-five. You gladly obliged with a laugh, Tom gawking at you with utmost betrayal on his face.

"You're lucky you're very cute, especially when you laugh," Tom grumbled as he shot you a playful glare. The crinkles on the corner of your eyes deepened as you only smiled brightly at him with a tilt of your head, which honestly made you look even more endearing. He could never be mad at you, too whipped to hold a grudge no matter how much you tease him. And besides, that's all there is to it, nothing but teasing jokes and banter.

"If I were you, Tom, I'd start taking those growth pills before she starts to question why she's even with you," Harrison proposed jokingly which earned boisterous laughter from the rest of the gang.

"You lot are so fucking overdramatic. I'm not that short," Tom quipped with a roll of his eyes, gaze landing back on you with his famous pout now in play yet again. "And babe, it's a truth or drink video, not a roast me video," he stated, palms flat on cool marble as he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes.

"I'm joking! I'm joking," you rushed with a giggle. "I wouldn't change a single thing. You know I love you, just the way you are," you sang the last line, though your voice held nothing but sincerity as you reached over to give his hand a loving squeeze. Tom nodded with a sigh, though never did he doubt your words, knowing it deep in his bones that physical traits would never outweigh how much you love him, no matter what.

"Right, let's keep this going," you said as you took another card. "Who is smarter, me or you?" you asked.

"Me," Tom said proudly.

"Well, that's a lie," you objected.

Tom couldn't help but laugh at that, nodding at you as he chuckled, "It's you, obviously. Have you seen the last video?"

"Hmm, I don't know, I think Tom's smarter. I mean, you decided to date him, Y/N, which isn't exactly the brightest decision," Harry inferred, earning a loud gasp from his older brother.

"Excellent point," you agreed, your boyfriend's head whipping towards your direction with nothing but absolute offense written on his face.

"Babe! You're supposed to be on my side!" Tom exclaimed. "Why are we roasting me all of a sudden?" he complained.

"You're just too fun to pick on," you laughed, Tom's bottom lip jutting out at your words. "Especially when you do that, too cute," you pointed out, the apples of Tom's cheek turning pink as a smile grew on his lips at the compliment. "But I am smarter," you concluded, shooting the camera a wink.

"Will not refute," Tom chuckled, keeping the flow of the game as he took another card. "If you weren't with me, who of my brothers would you consider dating?" he said, voice pitching higher at the last few words. A look of downright disgust covered Tom's face immediately as he looked at the boys behind the camera who were snickering like the mischievous little shits that they are. "You lot are grim."

You matched Tom's expression, scrunching your nose as you shook your head quickly. Having been with Tom long enough, you now see the three of the Holland boys as your own brothers, so the mere thought of dating any of them is just—

"I'm not even going to think about it," you grumbled as you took a sip of your cocktail and then picked a card right away. "Who's the celebrity who you were the most disappointed with when you met them?" you continued swiftly, a smile on your lips as you looked at Tom who let out a sigh.

"You know I can't answer that," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, your smile growing wider as you picked up the bottle of gin and refilled his glass. "Thank you, darling," he chuckled with a shake of his head, taking a drink right after.

"Is there anyone in my friend group, famous or not, that you do not like?" Tom continued with a raise of his brow, gaze steady on you.

You emptied your glass—that was still half full—without a single word and placed it back down with a small burp. "Oh, excuse me," you cleared your throat with a laugh.

Tom's brows furrowed at you in mere curiosity, gesturing for your glass so he can remake you another drink. You slid it over to him with a soft 'thank you' and a sweet smile. He started opening up the bottle of juice though his eyes were still on you, narrowed in pure skepticism.

"Who?"

"Not part of the question, Tom," you said, flashing him an innocent smile

"I know who it is," Harry coughed fakely.

"Me too," Tuwaine added with a fake cough of his own.

"It's Harrison because he's trying to take you away from me," you commented, laughing at how the blonde lad gasped in utter protest.

"That's a lie because I know who it is too," Harrison defended.

"So, everyone knows except me?" Tom mused, rolling his eyes in the process.

"What else is new?" you giggled with a shrugged, Tom only sighing as he shot you yet another pout. This boy never ceases to use it since he knows you always swoon whenever he does. 'I'll tell you later,' you mouthed, making him nod with a proud smile.

You gently leaned back on your seat, closing your eyes when you felt a little woozy. You took in slow, deep breaths, the marble cold against your palms as your body started to grow warmer from head to toe.

Maybe downing that drink wasn't the best idea.

"You okay, darling?" Tom asked sweetly, tilting his head at you in worry as he went to take your hand in his. His brows knitted together when your skin felt unusually warm in his palms.

"Yeah," you giggled, opening your eyes to meet his concern-filled brown ones, flashing him a reassuring smile and a nod to match as you gave his hand a squeeze. "Just the alcohol slowly kicking in."

"Want to take a minute, sweetheart?"

"No, I'm good. Go on and ask the question bubba," you prompted as you beamed at him, Tom's heart melting at the beautiful curve on your features and more by the sound of that sweet nickname. Although, he knew that you'd reached your calm before the storm.

You're always smiley and extra sweet when you start to get a little tipsy. But from here on out, especially if you decide to take even more alcohol, you start switching from calm to giddily energetic. That's when the words would start flowing out your lips before your brain could even register what you've just said.

Tom replaced your hand with a white card once he was sure you were fine. A cheeky grin erupted on his face as he asked, "What's your favourite sex position?"

You pursed your lips, eyes landing on the ceiling, fingers drumming on the marble surface of the table as you pondered on it for a second. Tom watched you intently, a soft chuckle escaping him when you met his gaze again with a sweet yet shy smile.

"I've got three though," you said, mostly to him but in a not-so-hush tone. Your mind and your mouth don't cooperate sometimes when there's alcohol in the mix.

"Different one for a different mood," Tom hummed with a smirk, finishing up your drink with a squeeze of lime, mixing it up before sliding it back towards you. "Just say one or take a drink, darling."

"I need to slow down with drinking or else I'll be saying much worse things. I can already feel my filter shutting down," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as you gazed at Tom for a bit of help. "But do I really want this out in the world?"

"Oh, go on Y/N, live a little," Harrison prodded with nothing but utter mischief in his eyes.

You don't know why but somehow, Harrison words were the last straw for that burst of confidence to suddenly overflow. Boldness coated your every nerve as you squeezed your eyes shut and straight up blurted,

"Doggy."

Tom's eyes grew wide, both of his brows rising as he looked at you surprised. Yes, doggy was one of your—and his—favourites, he already knew that, what surprised him was you actually saying it out loud. Although he was swift to turn cocky as he leaned back on his seat, arms crossed over his chest while he kept his gaze steady on you.

As you peaked one eye, you saw that certain smirk of his now playing on his pink lips, one you only ever see privately. You felt your face heat up at that, added from the alcohol and embarrassment. The warmth was quick to spread to the rest of your body though, with the way he was looking at you, it was so hard for it not too. And as your eyes fully soaked him in, gaze traveling from his handsome face sporting that teasing smirk to his bulging biceps, the temperature could only rise. Your senses was now somewhat heightened that you were able to notice every single thing that made your man so fucking attractive and downright hot.

Since when did his hoodie grow even tighter? And damn, why is it so hot all of a sudden? It's probably the alcohol, or mainly just Tom, or simply both.

"Favourite type of porn!" you hear someone from the gang call out—probably Harrison since he's been causing trouble from the very start—interrupting your thoughts. With the alcohol in your system, just as expected, your brain genuinely forgot to take control of your tongue before you could even tell yourself: 'don't!'

"Sometimes hardcore," you let out, slapping your hand over your mouth immediately as your eyes grew wide. You quickly met Tom's eyes, his brown orbs glowing with shock, amusement and a sprinkle of lust. He gave you a soft nod with a soft smile in response, confirming that yes, you said it out loud, and yes it was already too late. "Oh no, this was what I meant when I needed to slow down on alcohol," you groaned, rubbing your hand over your warm face before looking back across your man with a pout.

"Aye! Hardcore doggy yeah?" Harrison cheered teasingly, moving towards Tom and giving his best friend a pat on the shoulder. Tom threw his head back with a laugh, face red but the look of utmost pride was also there. Harrison swiftly offered his fist to Tom, to which the brunette gladly indulged, their knuckles colliding as chuckles escaped the two mates.

You let out a choked laugh as your eyes widened in surprise, jaw going slack with your face heating up even more. "Did you guys just fist bump to that?"

"I mean." Tom shrugged, throwing his hands up with the smuggest grin, causing you to shake your head dejectedly with a groan. You shot Harrison a pointed glare when he went back to his seat, still snickering to his heart's content as if his master plan was in the works.

What a little shit.

"I'm definitely not going to let my parents watch this video," you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.

"I've got a question for Tom though," Tuwaine started, though the glimmer in his eyes told you it wasn't a clean one. "Do you grab it or do you smack it?"

Tom wheezed before erupting into a very rowdy laugh, hands slapping on his thigh as his body shook in nothing but pure enjoyment, his face red from a mixture of embarrassment, glee and the alcohol.

"Oh my—right! Next question!" you squeaked, not giving your boyfriend any time to answer as you attempted to swiftly move on.

"Wait, wait," Tom breathed out as he slowly calmed down, getting up from his seat as he went over to your side. "Harry stop recording for a sec," he called out to his younger brother before he gestured for you to turn until your back was facing the camera.

Tom crouched down in front of you, hands on your knees with a sweet, reassuring smile on his lips. "We'll edit out the parts you're not comfortable with to stay in the vid, alright?" he stated softly.

You nodded with a smile of your own, taking his hand in yours as you played with his fingers. "I'm not opposed to keeping the last two questions since everyone has their favourite position and type of porn. It's normal," you hummed, tilting your head at him as you added, "You saying you've helped me with, you know, that was much more private though, 'cause it's our thing."

"I know, I'm sorry, love," Tom apologized, voice soft but coated with sincerity as his hand went up to cup your face lovingly, brown eyes gazing up into yours with just the same emotions. "We're cutting that part out, I promise."

"But you think your fans would take these questions well?" you queried, leaning into his touch in a way that made Tom's heart do flips inside his chest.

He nodded. "Yeah, I think it's fine. The video is going to be age restricted anyway. And besides, we're both adults, so there's nothing wrong with it," he explained. You hummed in agreement, leaning your head on his hand as you closed your eyes with a soft sigh, your skin very warm against his palm. Tom moved closer to give your lips a sweet peck. "Want some water angel?"

"No, I'm good." You smiled, Tom nodding as he mirrored your grin, giving your lips another kiss before he stood back to his full height and then sat back on his seat.

Shooting Harry the go signal to start recording again, Tom chuckled, "Sorry, needed to cool down for a sec after that." He turned towards the camera, tugging at the collar of his hoodie as he blew out his cheeks to get a point across.

You could only roll your eyes at your man, his laugh growing louder at your reaction. Swiftly taking a card from the pile, you continued with the game. "Is this going to be the theme from here on out, lads?" you asked, eyeing the boys behind the camera suspiciously before you turned back to Tom. "Is there something in the bedroom you'd like to try that you haven't told me?"

Tom's cheeks turned even redder at the question, completely shying away now as his hand went to rub at his shoulder. "I can't think of one right now," he muttered as he looked at you sheepishly. "But no, I'm not answering that since we talk about that off camera anyway," Tom settled with a timid chuckle, refilling his glass and taking a drink of the gin soon after.

"Your turn," you giggled, pushing the pile towards him.

"Oh, okay. What a way to shift the topic," Tom breathed out, scanning the card one more time as he sat up straighter. "If I was in a coma how long would you wait for me?" he asked, meeting your gaze with a tender smile.

"I'll keep waiting for you until you wake up, no matter how long," you answered, without even a single inch of doubt, despite the slight shake in your voice as your eyes started to well up. "Never giving up on you."

"Darling," Tom cooed softly with a pout, the screeching sound of his chair echoing around the space as he pushed his seat back. He went back over to your side quickly, remaining on his feet as he leaned down to engulf you in a tight and warm embrace, swaying you side to side in the most comforting way as he whispered sweet nothings against your hair.

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath, the material of his hoodie soft against your cheek. You willed your brain not to think much of it, to not dwell on that thought and focus more on the Tom's warmth that's coated you right now. Or else you'll end up a bawling mess, and with the alcohol in your system, it's not a good idea to start crying now.

Your man pulled away gently with a charming smile, cupping your face with both hands as he towered over your seated form. "I'd do the exact same, just so you know," he hummed, brown eyes locked with yours, his thumbs caressing your cheeks fondly before he dipped his head to capture your lips in a loving kiss. You let out a sweet sigh as you melt at the feeling of his soft lips on yours, mind and heart at ease at familiar warmth. The gesture wasn't fully caught on camera though given that you were turned at the opposite direction.

"I love you," you hummed against his lips.

Tom chuckled sweetly, giving you a few more pecks on the lips before pulling away completely, staring right into your eyes as he whispered, "And I love you."

With that he went back to his seat again, flashing you one of his many charming grins before he turned to the group behind the camera.

"You lot are onto something I can tell," Tom said as he raised a brow at the lads who suspiciously grew quiet, looking everywhere in the room but at you two.

Not thinking much of it, you swiftly took another card and read the question. "What would you do if you suddenly get a call that I was gone?" you trailed off at the end of your sentence, brows knitting together as you turned to the group behind the camera. "Guys, this is a cruel question."

"Oh," Tom faltered, smile slowly slipping away from his face as he casted his eyes at his drink.

"Tom, you don't have to answer it," you called out softly, frown deep on your lips as you reached over to take both his hands in yours. But it was already too late when he squeezed your hand tightly, lifting his head back up to meet your gaze and you felt your heart ache. That's when you saw that his mind was already there, brown orbs glossed up as he let out a shaky breath.

"I'd literally shut down," he croaked. "I-I don't know what'd I do if that happens. I just can't imagine my life without you. I—" he stopped, head dropping as his voice broke.

"Oh Tom, come here," you cooed as you immediately got out of your seat and rounded the table, turning him around and away from shot for a bit of privacy. You squatted in between his legs that were spread apart to be much closer to him, gently cupping his face with both your hands so that you were now within eye level. "Hey, look at me," you whispered when you were met by eyes that were screwed shut.

With a deep intake of breath, Tom willed his eyes to open. He looked at you with a small smile playing on his lips, heart steadying at the sight of your beautiful orbs boring into his own. He leaned forward to close the distance between you two, just so he could feel your lips on his. Tom badly needed to. A soft satisfied sigh erupted out your chest as your hand took home on his warm cheek.

"I'm still here bubba. I'm not going anywhere," you hummed against his lips before giving him warm kisses all over his face that made him stifle out a small laugh. You pulled away a little with a loving smile, wiping away the few tears that sat on his skin with your thumb, your touch gentle and warm.

"I love you so much, you know that?" Tom whispered as he looked at you fondly, nudging the tip of his nose with yours in a wholesome manner.

"I love you too, you sweet, soft boy," you giggled, placing a sweet peck on his lips before pulling him in for a hug. You lifted your head up to shoot each of the boys a sharp glare, the three cowering away in their seats as they each said their soft apologies.

Pulling away with a smile, you cupped Tom's face with a hum, "Better?"

"Loads," Tom sighed with a sweet smile, leaning in for one last peck before he lets you go back to your seat. "You purposely put that in there to make me cry didn't you?" Tom spoke, narrowing his eyes at boys who only shrugged in feign innocence. "You lot are evil I tell you."

"Now let's get back on a lighter note!" you exclaimed, pushing the cards towards Tom since it was his turn to ask.

Tom pursed his lips as his brows furrowed at the question. "If you could sleep with any person in the world, who would it be?" he wondered, eyes locking with yours in warning. "Now, careful with your answer, love," he hummed.

"Is that a threat Holland?" you challenged with a raise of your brow.

"I'm just saying, I may already know or will meet this person in the futur—"

"Chris Hemsworth," you blurted, Tom's mouth falling open as he gawked at you in shock. "I'm kidding," you rushed with a hearty laugh.

"Are you though?" Tom doubted, squinting at you suspiciously.

You bit your bottom lip as you held his gaze, Tom letting out a loud gasp when you suddenly took a drink all while maintaining eye contact with him.

"I'm going to have a word with you later missy," he grumbled, voice suddenly an octave deeper, somewhat a soft growl, one that you felt down to your core.

You shifted in your seat with a clear of your throat, shooting him an innocent smile as you said, "To be fair, you did say—publicly may I add—that you'd sleep with Hemsworth too when you did fuck, marry and kill with the three Chrises so, roll the clip!"

Tom shook his head at you with a playful roll of his eyes. "Touché," he sighed, brows furrowed in confusion when you suddenly covered your mouth.

"Oops, I just realized I said the F-word, sorry Harry," you said meekly, a certain smile on your lips which guaranteed that you were now dancing onto drunken territory. Tom knows you like the back of his hand, if the way you were smiling wasn't enough then, the simple look in your eyes would let him know that the alcohol has fully hit you this time.

"It's alright. One bleep word is nothing compared to last week's video. And it's not like this video has been clean anyway," the young twin chuckled.

"So, Fuck Hemsworth, who are you marrying and who are you killing?" Tuwaine asked.

"Marry Evans, Kill Pratt," you answered promptly.

Tom leaned back on his seat as he crossed his arms over his chest, running his tongue over his teeth slowly all while staring you down. "That's a quick answer Y/N," he hummed, shooting you a teasing glare.

"Oh please, yours was quick too, Thomas," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest as you mirrored him, never backing down from his stare even though it was making you feel certain things.

"Wait, if you're marrying Evans and killing Pratt, and I'm marrying Pratt and killing Evans, does that mean we're set out to kill each other's husband?" Tom started as he leaned forward and towards the table.

"So, if you were successful in killing Evans, and I was successful in killing Pratt, that means we're both widowed," you continued, laying your hands now flat on the marble surface.

"Meaning there's still a chance that we will still end up together. Meant to be if you ask me," Tom concluded, lifting up a hand.

You moved forward to give him a high-five, missing his hand by a lot which made you let out a loud, hearty laugh, Tom following suit with laughs of his own.

"What are you two on?" Harrison said with a crinkle of his nose.

"Alcohol," you and Tom answered at the same time. Both of your mouths turned into the shape of O's as you looked at each other properly delighted.

"Jinx!" both of you exclaimed in unison. "Jinx again!"

"Our mental synchronization; can have but one explanation," you and Tom sang in harmony, never breaking your gaze as you both smiled proudly.

"You—"

"And I—"

"Were—"

"Just—"

"Meant to be!" You two ended with fits of laughter, raising your hands to go for another high five. You missed Tom's hand again which only made you wheeze, tears of joy brimming in yours and his eyes as you tried for the second time, both of you cheering loudly when it finally landed.

"Cringe, really made for each other," Harry gagged teasingly with a grimace to match.

And then Harrison intervened. "How about fuck, marry, kill, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Felton and," he paused, grin turning wider like a Cheshire cat as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. "Tom Holland?"

"That's not part of the game," you protested with a pout.

"Answer the question, darling," Tom encouraged, looking at you expectantly.

"I'm taking a shot," you muttered, going for your drink but before you could even do so, Tom had already taken it far away from your reach. "Hey!" you whined.

Tom chuckled softly as he shook his head no. "You said it's not part of the game so no, you have to answer," he said. "And that's enough alcohol for you, my love," he cooed, tilting his head at you knowingly with a sweet smile. If Tom will let you continue with the drinking then you'll surely be complaining nonstop about the throbbing headache you'll get and the constant nausea after all this.

You sat back on your chair with your bottom lip jutted out, arms crossed over your chest to match, much like a child as you started to think about your answer. Although the process took way longer than you'd expect it to be and the boys were quick to notice.

"Uh oh, she's having a hard time," Harry teased when a few long seconds has gone by and you still haven't given an answer.

"I don't know how I feel about the hesitation here," Tom admitted as he looked at you curiously, brows furrowing with a chuckle when you were still deep in thought after a few seconds more.

"She genuinely is having a hard time," Tuwaine laughed.

"This is so unfair," you grumbled dejectedly as you looked at your man with a sweet, adorable pout, silently asking for help.

"What'd you do with me first to make things easier," Tom offered with a chuckle.

As if there was a hidden message to his words—there wasn't—your face suddenly lit up, slapping your palms on the table excitedly as you sat straighter. "You know what, kill the other two and I'll fuck and marry you," you declared heartily, eyes locked securely with Tom's with the proudest grin playing on your lips.

Tom's heart did somersaults at the mere fact of you wanting to marry him, grin wide and bright as he stared into your orbs, utmost love glowing in yours that was wholesomely mirrored by his brown ones.

It wasn't long until Tom felt his blood rush down though, heat dancing on his skin as his brain got occupied with the thought of you fucking him too. Certain memories flooded his mind, one after the other that it was getting harder for him to stay calm in his seat.

You are honestly giving him a whiplash with how you make him feel one emotion to another in a span of seconds, though Tom wasn't at all complaining.

"That's not how the game works!" Harrison exclaimed.

"I'm pretty happy with that answer," Tom shrugged with a wide, cocky grin, eyes never leaving yours as he raised a brow at you suggestively. You held his gaze with a tilt of your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth to try and stop your smile from growing.

The interaction didn't go unnoticed by Harry though. "Okay, stop eye-fucking each other you horny teenagers," the younger brother complained.

Tom laughed at that, shifting in his seat as he turned towards the camera. "On that note, we're ending the video there. This has been Tom Holland," he paused, giving you a nod as a cue.

"And Mrs. Holland," you blurted at the camera with a smile, eyes widening once you realised the choice of words you've just used. "Oh wait! No! Fuc—I don't mean no as in 'no,' I meant not yet," you fumbled. "We're not even engaged yet! Don't start with the headlines you." You pointed at the camera in warning.

He shook his head with a chuckle, red tinting his cheeks but pure admiration glowed in his eyes. "You own my fucking heart, you know that? You make me melt all the damn time," Tom gushed through gritted teeth, and it was taking a whole lot of his self-control to not jump over the table and just kiss you senseless. You felt your heart grow at his words but you could only bury your face in your hands with a groan of pure embarrassment. "She's drunk, my apologies," Tom added with a laugh as he turned towards the camera.

"Tipsy, there's a difference," you corrected as you shot him a glare.

Tom chuckled, smiling at you widely before turning back to the lens. "Anyway, see you on the next one and peace!" he finished with the sign and then a salute, Harry throwing out an upturned thumb to signal cut.

Once he saw that the camera was off, Tom was out of his seat in record speed, moving over to your now standing form as he swiftly wrapped both his arms around your waist and crashed his lips onto yours with a low groan. His arms tightened around you as he relished the feeling of finally having you so close.

You giggled against the kiss, resting your arms over his shoulders as you leaned back on the table to keep your balance, your bum half-rested on the marble while your foot stayed steady on the floor, legs apart so that Tom can situate himself between them easily.

"So, fuck and marry me huh?" Tom hummed deeply against your mouth, playfully nibbling at your bottom lip before pulling away so he can see your gorgeous face fully.

"Out of all the things I've said, that's what stuck with you?" you giggled with a shake of your head.

"I mean, you fucking me will never fail to sound very hot, reminds me of the few times you did." Tom wriggled his brows at you suggestively, hands giving your waist as teasing squeeze. "Though I don't know which one's hotter, that or you marrying me," he said with the proudest smirk.

"Will you two take this somewhere else?" Harry complained, always the last one to be left in the room given that he's mostly in-charge with taking care of the camera. Harrison and Tuwaine were already gone, continuing whatever they had to do that day.

"Don't think that would make a difference though," Tom chuckled smugly, looking back at you with a knowing grin.

"Which reminds me how we need to sound proof the fucking walls you nasty rabbits."

"I was kidding. We're not that loud fuck off," Tom remarked, rolling his eyes at his brother.

And to prove how wrong Tom's point was, Harrison suddenly started moaning so piercingly right in the next room, his voice a bit muffled but you can still hear him, loud and obnoxious.

"Fuck! Love! Fuck yes! Just like that, darling! Shit baby I'm gonna—"

"Fuck off Harrison you fucking twat!" Tom yelled at the top of his lungs, the blonde lad's boisterous and annoying laugh echoing soon after.

Tom turned crimson red as the embarrassment coated him from head to toe, head dropping for him to hide his face on the crook of your neck with a groan. You let out a soft giggle, hand landing on the back of his head as you ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly. Your face was warm as you were embarrassed just the same, although there was more of a sense of pride on your behalf because yes, Tom does get a bit loud sometimes, all courtesy to you.

It wasn't always of course, both of you aren't evil enough to torture the lads that much. Aside from the fact that Tom is rarely even home—meaning you don't do the deed that much in this house—the two of you had made a pact to make sure that you're completely alone before properly going at it. Admittedly, it does get a bit hard to keep the noise down sometimes, so the boys have to endure it every now and then. They do get back at you guys soon after as they are quick to be little shits with the teasing and dirty jokes, much like now.

"Maybe we do need to soundproof our walls," you teased once your man pulled away to look at you with a soft sigh, hands running up and down your waist sweetly.

"Or we could finally look for our own place to move in?" Tom proposed with a charming smile, your heart melting at the sight and skipping a beat at his words.

Granted, you've been with Tom for a fair three and a half years already, but neither of you had gone to take that step of actually living fully on your own where it's just no one but him and you in your own home. You've been living in this house for roughly the same time—maybe a year or two less—and you've got no problem living with the lads, you consider them as your brothers now. But you won't deny that having a place exclusively for you and Tom only would be pure bliss.

Of course you've talked about getting your own place and neither of you were opposed to it. It all just came down to Tom being constantly busy and barely even home. You'd rather live with the boys for the mean time than sulk all alone in a house while slowly being buried in the emotions of missing your boyfriend.

Tom also wanted to be there for the most of it—choosing and buying furniture, decorating a thing or two, moving, the likes—but with his schedule, it was hard to find the perfect time.

But now he's promised you that he'd slow down for a bit.

He genuinely hasn't done anything but work nonstop. It was just projects upon projects with only so little breaks in between, a month if he's lucky. Tom is one hardworking man, that's one of the many things you love about him, but he sometimes doesn't realize when he's pushing himself too far.

That's when you step in.

You'd encouraged him to take a breather, even if it's just for half a year or so but you never did pester him about it constantly as you weren't one to take him away from doing what he loves. Unless it gets way out of hand, then that's when you'll be putting your foot down. You know he'll do it whenever he's ready to slow down and now with most of his projects wrapped, he's finally decided that it was the right time to take that much needed break.

"I love the sound of that," you giggled, treading your fingers through his hair before tracing it down his chiseled jaw. "Not as much as I love the sound of you moaning though," you hummed teasingly.

"Well then, let's find our own place so you can hear me moan all for you and as loud as you want, darling," Tom purred lowly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as his darkened orbs bored into yours, his hands sliding down to rest on the swell of your bum. He fondled the flesh hotly as he started to lean closer to capture your lips. But before Tom could even do so a loud voice made you both jump away from each other.

"For fuck's sake guys! I'm still fucking here!" Harry yelled, throwing both his hands in the air in downright annoyance and disgust as he screwed his eyes shut. "Go to your fucking room for the love of my sanity!"

You didn't even get a chance to apologise to the young lad as Tom swiftly grabbed your hand and rushed to your shared bedroom.

Nothing happened though apart from a couple minutes of making out, Tom deciding not to take it further given that you were all tipsy and intoxicated. Him deciding since you were persistent on saying you were fine even though you were giggling nonstop, easily tickled no matter how feather-like his kisses were. Not to mention how you could barely even keep your eyes open. So, both of you ended up taking a warm bath and then a nap right after that, instead.

Although the minute you sobered up, Tom made sure you weren't at all quiet this time around. It was due to the pent up tension that's been building since that somewhat steamy Q&A. And maybe, just maybe to get back at the boys a teeny bit for being little shits with both the teasing jokes and the dirty questions.

The two of you went out of your bedroom only at dinner time, stepping foot in the dining area where Harry, Tuwaine and Harrison were all situated. You felt the embarrassment coat every inch of your body when you took sight of the boys, more specifically, their expressions. Tom, on the other hand, had the cockiest smirk playing on his lips as he held his head high, tauntingly chuckling at his mates.

The three lads were sitting around the table with nothing but grimaces and downright disgust on their faces as they all grumbled in unison,

"Rabbits."

-:-:-:-:-

like, reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! tell me your thoughts! <3

♛ Overall/Everything Taglist: @theunwantedomega​ @badreputatiom​ @fallinfortom​ @disneysamara​ @avengersficwriter​ @musicalkeys​ @apatheticanvas67482​ @camimndess​ @tom-hlover​ @jjandreidsgirl​ @blossomparkers​ @thenoddingbunny-blog​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @call-me-baby-gir1​ @miraclesoflove​ ♛ Tom H. Taglist: @hollandfanficlove​​ @averyfosterthoughts​​ @2018shawn​​ @darlingspidey​​ @namoreno​​ @spacebitch2 @hollanddolanfangirl​​ @keepingupwiththehollands​​ @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh​​ @unbelievableholland​​ @kittenruby​​ @sunkisseddreamer​​ @worldoftom​​ @quaksonhehe​​ @big-galaxy-chaos​​ @clara-licht​​ @dummiesshort​​ @imanativeofswlondondahling​​ @sonofabitchstyles​​ @perspectiveparker​​ @geminiparkers​​ @parker-hollandx​​ @arivera-30​ @rebekkah4766​ @particularnarry​ @iwannabekilledtwice​ @prettyintopeerpressure​ @fancyxholland​ @givebuckyhisplumsnow​ @asoftie4bucky​ @dandelionxgal​ @peterspideysstuff​ @zspideyy​​

[forcefulkitten]

a ride to remember

[hisoka morow x fem! reader] 

summary: you and Hisoka go on a date to an amusement park and he makes it an experience you’ll never forget.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, public sex, overstimulation, exhibitionism

word count: 2,229

You can’t remember the last time you were able to go out and have fun. Work and adulting consumes a large portion of your life these days. The minimal free time that you do have is spent catching up on much needed rest or lounging around with your boyfriend. So when he came home with tickets for the amusement park, you were thrilled. Being with Hisoka is always a fun time. No matter what you do, he makes it spontaneous. While he’ll never grow sick of doing face masks with you and taking a bath with your head rested on his chest, he can’t deny that you both deserve an actual date outside of the house.

Checking yourself out in the mirror, you’re happy with how you look tonight. You decided to wear a black plaid pleated skirt, white long sleeve turtleneck and sneakers. Hisoka snuck up from behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, looking at you in the mirror. “Mmmm, what fine taste you have my dear.” He’s dressed in his usual outfit and makeup, not that you’d prefer it any otherwise. You turn around and press a kiss to his lips. “Should we head out?” You questioned. “Yes pumpkin.”

Upon arrival, you’re overwhelmed by the amount of rides, games and food there is at your leisure. Energetic music, laughter and smiling faces fill the atmosphere around you. Hisoka pulls you towards the first ride he sees, a drop tower that goes up too high for your comfort. The excitement on his face and strong grip on your wrist gives you the motivation to put any fear aside. It’s rare that you two have the opportunity to go out lately and you’ll be damned if you don’t have the most fun this day has to offer.

Hours of heart pumping, adrenaline rushing entertainment pass by at the speed of light. After surviving what felt like your death sentence, you stomp away from Hisoka with tears in your eyes and make your way to buy a funnel cake with strawberries and whipped cream. He follows behind you, wondering why you’re so upset. Sitting down at a table, you push the dessert over to him on the opposite side. “Why would you do that? I was so scared Hisoka.” You question with sadness in your eyes. “What's the big deal? It was only some harmless fun.” His tone is taunting and you want to punch him in the throat for mocking you. “You call that... harmless fun? You broke our safety buckle right before the rollercoaster dropped from the top. The tallest fucking ride here.” Warm tears streamed down your face, you feel so small right now while he stares at you with pity. “I just couldn’t resist the chance to look at your adorable frightened face.” Hisoka’s arm reaches across the table and lifts your chin to look at him. “I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. Besides, bungee gum has the properties-“ You cut him off mid sentence, slapping your hand over his mouth. You can't help but laugh whenever he says that line. He places a soft kiss on the back of your hand before pushing the funnel cake back to you and swiping some of the whipped cream on your nose. It’s times like this that remind you how you’ve grown to trust him with your life. He’s scared the hell out of you plenty times and even put you in dangerous positions but you’ve never been unwillingly hurt by or because of him. Hisoka scans over your face, taking mental note of your tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Even in this state you’re perfect to him. Normally, he thinks weak people are pathetic. But when it comes to you, he’s captivated by how you allow yourself to be so forgiving and kind with him even when he doesn’t deserve it.

After sharing your funnel cake and grabbing some overpriced, underwhelming grub to eat, you two continue to chit chat about your day together while your food settles. Gesturing to the games so Hisoka can win you a bear, he shakes his head no at your silent begs. “Why not? We’ve went on every ride that we wanted to go on! We're not leaving until you win me a bear. I deserve it since you nearly killed us.” He tuts, “You can have whatever you desire, my pretty fruit. But only after we get on the Ferris wheel.”

Handing two tickets to the operator, you and Hisoka make your way onto a cart. The seat beneath you is cold and it’s uncomfortable against your legs, so you move to sit on Hisoka’s lap with your back facing him. He brings his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. The added warmth is appreciated. After such a long day, you could easily fall asleep here if you tried. Instead, the two of you overlook the amusement park while the Ferris wheel slowly makes its way up. Everything around you is perfect. Hisoka holding you tight. The night sky covered in stars. The moon that looks so close but in fact is so far. Happiness radiating in the air around you. The light atmosphere is exquisite, you’d stop time right now if you could.

Hands that were wrapped around your waist untangle. Hisoka brings one underneath your shirt, pulling the cup of your bra down and groping your breast, making you yelp at his sudden movements. His lips find their way to your neck, sucking and nipping the skin. You melt into his touch, small moans feeding his hungry desire. Hisoka’s other hand trails between your thighs, resting against your heat. He doesn’t slip his fingers into your panties, instead finding refuge on your clit through the fabric. You squirm in his lap when deft fingers start to swirl against your bud. “Hisoka..” You whimper when he bites your neck particularly hard, peppering kisses around the area afterwards. “Hmm?” His voice is thick like honey and he pretends that he doesn’t know what you’re whining about.

Leaning against his body, grinding against his hand, head thrown back onto his shoulder while singing his name between breaths only serves to stir him on. Part of you thinks it’s crazy to do this in public, on a Ferris wheel at that. A bigger part of you is caught up in the thrill and pleasure coursing through your body. He’s making you feel so good that you wouldn’t dare stop him. Hisoka can feel how wet you’ve gotten, helping his digits slide up and down your slit through your panties. His fingers circle your clit with precise and calculated movements. Not knowing where to put your hands, you latch onto the material of his pants, tight fists making your knuckles turn white. You feel the coil in your stomach tighten with every swirl against your sex, every pinch of your nipple. You look around, realizing that you’re almost at the base of the Ferris wheel. Hisoka’s fingers speed up, hoping to get you to cum right as you’re passing the operator. He has a knack for both frightening you and seeing you flustered. Fighting your orgasm with every fiber of your being, you clench your eyes shut and try to still your body. He shuffles your body closer to his, and you feel his erection press against you. He ruts up against you, the feeling of him touching every sensitive part of your body is overwhelming. Legs trembling and mouth ajar from the overstimulation, you feel your orgasm approach. There’s no use in trying to fight it. Hisoka brings his lips to your ear, “Cum for me darling.” His voice is laced with lust and persuasion. He doesn’t even understand the amount of power he has over you when he uses that tone. Letting go of your nipple, his hand moves up to grip your neck, rested between your breast like a seatbelt. His fingers ravishing your clit, erection prodding against you and moans in your ear send a rush through your veins. Amusement park music, people screaming on rollercoasters, the gears of the Ferris wheel. These sounds that filled your ears before aren’t registering to you. All you can hear is your moans and his hitched breath each time you rub against him. The knot in your stomach snaps, and you let out a cry while your cunt clenches around nothing. Hisoka’s fingers work your swollen bud even faster once he feels your orgasm begin. He jerks your head to the side and when you force your eyes open, the operator’s looking at you in confusion. Trying to move your face from his view is futile, the grip on your jaw is iron clad. You shut your eyes, promising to pay Hisoka back for this. Thankfully the operator isn’t able to see what Hisoka’s hand is doing under your skirt, but you can guess he knows exactly what’s going on. Shocked and embarrassed, you lean forward towards your knees while Hisoka cups your sex, allowing you a moment to gather yourself. As the cart makes its way back up, he gives the operator a sly grin.

You slide onto the cold seat, only for Hisoka to pull you right back onto his lap facing him. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you bring your tongue to lick the shell of his ear. You begin to straddle his waist, grinding against his thick length. Hisoka’s breath hitches at the friction between the two of you. Bringing one hand to hold you up, Hisoka pulls his cock out of his pants and lines himself up with your clothed cunt. You reach between your bodies, tugging your panties to the side and giving him a way in. His hands glide up the curve of your ass and find their way to your waist, inching into you. Your slick cunt sucks him in quickly, making you hiss at the stretch that turns from pain to pleasure. Hisoka bucks into you while you meet his thrusts. The squelching noises of your sex drives him wild. “Oh my, you’re soaking wet darling. So gorgeous taking my cock like this.” You bring him into a kiss, slipping your tongue in his mouth and biting down harshly. The pain makes him speed up his pace, thrusting into you so roughly that you know you’ll be sore after this. His long member hits your cervix with every rut, you can’t control the obnoxious moans leaving your mouth. The way he slides in and out of your sopping pussy makes you feel delirious. Your grip on his muscular shoulders tighten at the feeling of your orgasm building up again. Hisoka is latched onto your ass, squeezing so hard that his nails dig crescents into your fragile skin. He’s putting all of his strength behind his vicious onslaught, the feeling of his hips hitting your aching folds is invigorating. Amber eyes bore into yours, aroused by every contorted face that you make. Hisoka knows you’re close. Your legs are burning from meeting his thrusts, arms clutched onto him like he’s your savior. Hisoka can’t continue much longer. Seeing you such a mess, impaled on his cock while shamelessly taking him in public is driving him wild. Your legs finally give out, leaving him to use you to his heart’s content. You grind against him lazily, focused on chasing your orgasm despite the burn in your legs. Hisoka rolls his hips against yours, desperate for you to cream around him. You bury your face into his neck as you cum, letting out choked moans that bring a smile to his face. He doesn’t even give you a moment to catch your breath, quickly pistoning into you. He lets out a string of moans that could probably be heard by all of the other people on the Ferris wheel. Bringing your hands into his hair, you pull his face into your neck to shut him up. Hisoka bounces you on his length as if you weigh nothing, biting your neck hard enough to make you shriek. Your cunt gripping him like a vice proves too much for him. Shuddering, he coats your walls with his seed. Having regained some control over yourself, you sway against his length, greedily milking him until he stops twitching inside of you. He holds you close against him while drawing circles in your thigh. Your mouth meets his in a sloppy kiss, wordlessly thanking him for fucking you into the oblivion. Hisoka lifts you off of him gently, and you both fix yourselves properly into your clothing with perfect timing. Not even a minute later, you reach the bottom of the Ferris wheel and the operator opens the cart to let you both out. As you walk by, you keep your head down and follow behind Hisoka.

Exhausted is an understatement. Having spent over 8 hours at this place and going through several different emotions; you’re ready to go home, take a shower and go to sleep. Hisoka plays a couple of games, making sure to win you a small bear and an oversized one. Shortly after, the two of you make your way home after Hisoka buys candy to share on the way. Little do you know, he's already got two more tickets to visit again in the future.

[cabezadeperro]

Hi, for the fic ask meme: 7, 14 (and if possible 37 as well)?

hi t!!!! thanks for asking!

the meme

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

fuck this one is hard. uhh.

“I thought you’d be angrier,” Rex says before he can think twice. “About not winning, I mean.”

Skywalker pauses. He looks down at his bike, flesh fingers resting on its control panel, and sighs.

“I’m used to not being the best,” he says, matter-of-fact. Rex blinks and turns to look at him; Skywalker is already staring back, a half-smile on his face. He shrugs. “I have never been the best at anything.”

this is from don’t let me break you, that rexakin fic i wrote a couple months ago. i’m still really, really proud of it. i love writing coruscant and i love writing rex and i am obsessed with his and anakin’s relationship, it’s so crunchy and weird and messed up and somehow they genuinely care about each other so much at the same time! i think i nailed rex’s mental state post-umbara, and i really really love how his and fives’s relationship comes through as well--i have Thoughts about the clones’ approach to like. sex and friendship and relationships in general and i think i managed to reflect rex and fives post umbara in all their (fucked up) glory.

idk i had a lot of fun writing it and i think it works exactly like i wanted it to work.

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

i can’t think of specific stuff right now, but i really dislike this idea i saw recently where someone was asking how to write a villain that’s completely impossible to sympathise with, and the person they asked, instead of going “uhh that’s a shit way of approaching fiction writing??” took the question seriously 😶idk in my opinion that’s the quickest, easiest way to write a one-tone, flat, boring antagonist. 1. you can’t control how readers are going to react to your stuff, so don’t try to do that, and 2. people are weird and complicated and layered. and that’s how fun characters are as well.

37. Talk about your current wips.

there’s the cwbb i can’t talk about, then there’s the other codywan fic i’ve been sharing snippets here of, and then in the vault we have (still): the fake dating au continuation, the clone wars kenfetti au, and the codex persuasion au

[trollishly]

Valkyrie Pt. 5 • Ivar X Reader

A girl shows up bloody and beaten to Kattegat. The Queen and her sons take an interest in the girl, especially Ivar.

Warnings: Gore, Swearing, Mentions of sex, Angst, Anything you'd expect from Vikings

The harsh chilled wind of Kattegate’s forest whipped the the thick furs that laid upon her shoulders. The forest seemed to be alive, as the trees whined and creaked as the gusts only became stronger. Her breathing became heavier as she quickened her pace towards her desired destination, ambitious for what she seeked.

Her eyes light up as they finally fell upon the individual, though she couldn't help but shiver as her feet finally met the front of their seated position. 

“The Queen...“ Slightly bowed the being, words slurring from their twisted lips. “Ancient One,” Quipped Aslaug as she tucked her gown to kneel before him, “you know why I am here, we’ve spoken of this matter before.“ Rushed the Queen in a desperate manner. The Seer let an exasperated grunt, his grotesque tongue running along his lips in thought. “The girl from your vision, you speak of her, you’ve spoken to her.” Hummed the cloak individual, while Aslaug only nodded hoping for him to continue.  

"Well what is it that is troubling you my Queen?" Aslaug rolled her eyes slightly, "I wish to know if my visions are once again correct, or am I mistaken and she is actually a threat to my kingdom?"

"You ask difficult questions, always questioning." He grinned, "However, I shall give you comfort by saying that what you see, is in fact true my Queen." Aslaug let out a breath of relief she hadn't known she was holding, refraining from smiling, which she found herself doing more often as of late. "The gods have blessed us with a great gift..." Croaked the Seer, "A Valkyrie." Spoke the two in unison.

•••

Soft knocks echoed throughout the quaint room, and with nobody acknowledging it, a hush voice followed. "I'm coming in." Spoke Ubbe as he push the door open which dragged along the uneven floor.

There laid Frode, in bed and struggling to inhale evenly. His glazed over eyes drifting to look at the intruder. Ubbe watched as the boy clench his hand firmer around the one that laid upon his, the hand belonging to non other than his sister.

Y/n was slouched against Frode's bed, half her weight on her knees and the other on the edge of the bed. She looked as if she hadn't slept for days, which was half of the truth. If it weren't for Y/n's recent episodes of passing out, she would've been up like usual, her sleep schedule being far from healthy.

"Is she asleep?" Asked Ubbe, stepping further into the room. Frode tried to speak in denial, however, he found himself unable to speak, his voice caught in his throat as another fit of coughs erupted from him. With Frode at a loss, he was not able to warn Ubbe as he reached out to shake his sister awake. Y/n flinched harshly from his touch, rolling away from him and onto her feet. They both stood still, however, Y/n seemed to be on guard due to his presence. Ubbe tilted his head, trying to catch the girl's gaze, but she seemingly refused, not wanting him to see her at her weakest, as her eyes were red and puffy from her night's worth of crying over her brother.

"Sorry to disturb, but my mother asked me to invite you to come eat with us." Ubbe simply said, "I would of sent a thrall, but it seems you've scared them all half to death." Chuckled the man as he refrained from coming any closer.

"No, but thank you." Replied Y/n, turning to tend to her little brother once more. Frode quickly grasped his sister wrist and pulled a pleading face at her. "Y/n, you were never one to deny food, please go. I promise I will be fine." Comforted Frode as he begun to push Y/n away. "You need fresh air, you shouldn't be near me. I am not well," he paused briefly by taking a breath as he tried not to cough, "with you still being injured, it could become deadly if you were to stay near me and get sick." Finished the boy, relieved to see that his persuasion was beginning to work as his sister's frown lessened.

"He'll be fed and watched yes?" Questioned Y/n as she turned to face Ubbe. He nodded reassuring her, "A thrall will tend to your brother's every need."

Y/n began to debate in her head, not for long though, as her thoughts were interrupted by a loud growl that came from her stomach. "Okay." Agreed Y/n begrudgingly, as she came to pushed the hair from Frode's face before leaving the room with Ubbe following closely behind.

•••

"Uh- pardon?" Stuttered Ubbe shaking himself from his trance. Y/n spoke up and repeated herself, "I said, the Queen is very generous. All of you are, you could have left my brother and I to die." Expressed Y/n as she kept her head facing fowards as she walked alongside the prince.

Ubbe blinked down at the girl, inspecting her appearance, which he did more often than he'd like to admit, especially in the little time he was in her presence. "You should thank the Queen, yourself." He said, looking away when he caught himself staring. "She knows something we don't- a-and I trust her enough to follow her blindly. Not only because she is my mother, but because I believe she is fit as ruler." Spoke Ubbe, his tone indicating he said more than what he intended to.

Y/n's forehead creased slightly at the mention of his mother's knowledge of the unknown, but let him be, by keeping silent as they finally made it to the hall.

Bickering could be heard from a table of cluttering cutlery, a whine drawing the attention of Y/n. "Mother. Tell them to stop tormenting me." Mischievously spoke, who Y/n now knew as Ivar, as he held a hand of a thrall, who sat rigid beside him. His head was lolled to the side as he looked pleadingly towards his mother with a pout.

Ubbe walked ahead of the girl, a snort coming from him due to his little brother's banter. This causing everyone's eyes to not only land on Ubbe, but Y/n as well. Ubbe eyed a seat from across the room, rounding the table and sitting besides Hvitserk, who's eyes kept flickering between Ivar and Y/n curiously, as he continued to shove food into his mouth.

At the speed of which Thor would strike his hammer, Ivar shuffled in his seat, removing Margrethe's hand from his lips and dismissing her with just a wave of his arm. Y/n stood quietly, unsure with what to do with herself, before realizing something that could have been crucial.

"My Queen." Announced Y/n as she bowed her head in respect, looking at her through the thick of her lashes. "Morning Y/n. I am pleased to see that you've joined us once more. Please, take a seat beside me." She said, gesturing to a spot in between herself and Sigurd. As Y/n approached, the Queen gave Margrethe a narrowed side glance, "Get our guest a chair." She stated firmly, causing the thrall to panick as she left her spot beside Ivar and walking towards the nearest chair. Both her and Y/n reached for the chair, clutching it at the same time.

"Please, there is no need." Y/n said gently, lifting the chair from Margrethe's grasp and placing it in its spot. The slave just stepped back and scanned Y/n's form before looking away in a submissive manner.

As Y/n took a seat, the Queen continued their discussion before Ivar had been interrupted. "Now Ubbe, when will you have children?" Asked the Aslaug as she gestured to him with a napkin in hand. He grinned, "I probably already have!" He joked causing the others boys to break out in laughter as he pick at his food to throw it towards his mother. "No I'm serious, each and everyone of you should have a woman by now, even married." Spoke the Queen genuinely, as she looked to each of her boys. All of them eyed each other before shrugging without a care and focusing back onto their food. The Queen pinched the bridge of her nose as she shook her head, turning to face her attention to Y/n.

"It seems my boys are far too immature to have a wife, let alone children, don't you think Y/n?" Smiled Aslaug at the girl, which made the boys pause in their gluttony. Y/n found herself a little caught off guard, as she was never the one to get romantically involve, spending most of her time training or raising her brother.

"I don't believe my opinion would have much value my Queen." Began Y/n as she kept her attention solely on Aslaug, "But since they are the King and Queen's children, heirs are expected from them..." Aslaug seemed pleased with Y/n's answer as her lips quirked slightly, "Hmm, and do you have a husband, or lover, for that matter?"

Y/n cringe internally, knowing what Frode would say to the Queen if he had the opportunity. "I don-" However, Aslaug cut her short. "I'm speaking nonsense aren't I? Of course you would. You are a very beautiful young woman, and a shield maiden I assume?" Rambled the Queen which seemed suspiciously intentional. Y/n's mouth was left agape momentarily before she quickly closed it, "Yes, I am a shield maiden my Queen." She said keeping her answer curt.

Hvitserk began giggling cheekily, as he watched the way Ivar strained himself by pressing his palms against the bench. Pushing his torso upwards as he leaned on the table, in hopes of getting a better view of his mother and Y/n as they conversed. Sigurd scowled at his little brother's enamored behavior. Still upset at his earlier possessiveness of Margrethe, especially after she had confided in him the night before.

"As I was saying, you don't need to love the woman to breed with them." Explained the Queen, making Y/n bow down to eat her soup as she try her hardest to block out the conversation; one that she had already deemed as a personal family matter. As Aslaug continued to chatter, Y/n's eyes scan the room as she spooned the food into her mouth, making accidental eye contact with Hvitserk as he copied her actions. He grinned at her as the soup messily dribble down his chin, until an aggressive voice broke his playful staring.

"What is wrong with you?" Quipped Ivar as he now leaned further onto the table staring daggers at Sigurd, "Nothing is wrong with me," spat Sigurd making Hvitserk and Y/n glanced at each other, with Hvitserk widening his eyes at her humorously. "I just wanted to know if she has love anyone except Harbard..." Silence followed making Y/n sit up uncomfortable, "You remember Harbard don't you?" Sigurd continued sparing everyone a glance but his mother.

Ubbe sat stoney still and so did Hvitserk, but Ivar pushed on, with his arms now crossed loosely, "Of course she has loved another," he stated to Sigurd while nodding. "She has always loved me... isn't that right mother?" He urged while smiling at his mother, his eyes briefly catching Y/n's, who was sat just behind Aslaug from his position. However, the Oueen didn't speak and just nodded as she swallowed her drink discreetly.

Y/n's eyebrows raised at Aslaug's reaction, wondering as for why the Queen wasn't being more reassuring to her son, "She just pities you Ivar, just like the rest of us. Y/n probably feels sorry for you too, especially when you look at her with so much desperation." Ivar flinched at Sigurd's words, anger and embarrassment building within him. "and sometimes, we wish mother had left you to the wolves." He smoothly said, as if it weren't something completely vile. Y/n couldn't comprehend how someone could be so cruel, mainly to their family.

"Sigurd!" Demanded the Queen, with Ivar continuing to glare at his brother trying to sort his feelings internally, "What?" Was all he replied with, before resuming his breakfast.

Y/n found herself wanting to put Sigurd in his place, but refrained from doing so as nothing but consequences would come from it. A drag of a chair turn Y/n's attention back to Ivar, as he was now standing tall at the end of the table. This caused Sigurd to haphazardly throw his spoon onto the table, scoffing at Ivar's display.

Ivar began scooting from his seat, supporting his weight briefly on his mother's chair, with her cooing at him to calm his temper. Her attempts went unnoticed as he continued, with his left hand wavering, before it had finally landed on the back of Y/n's chair. Ivar and the girl gazed at each other, with her turning within her seat to make room for the young prince. Ivar was now hesitant, mainly now that he was the closest he had yet been to Y/n, not helping himself as he caught of whiff of her aroma that furthermore attracted him to her. Ivar's forearm gently grazed Y/n's hair as he pulled himself from one chair to another, as he heard Sigurd still taunting him.

"Come on Boneless!" He teased as he stood from his chair now that Ivar was near. Everyone was now standing, Y/n situating herself just behind Ivar. Bowls and utensils fell to the floor as Sigurd pulled a chair from underneath Ivar making him collapse with a painful sounding thud. Y/n reach down to help him, but pause as Hvitserk gestured to her not to from the corner of her eye.

Ivar's frustrated huffs filled the room, his nostrils flaring as he forcefully began to drag himself towards his target. Sigurd's harmful jabs continued, with the Queen now walking up towards Ivar and passing Y/n, who couldn't help but stand and watch how this would play out.

Sigurd seemed to grow tired of this little game, quickly turning and pushing the doors of the hall open, making the bright light bleach the room with a stark white wash, highlighting Ivar's enraged features.

Ivar chased Sigurd out of the room causing a loud scream to rip from his throat, with the Queen attempting to hold him back.

•••

End of part 5.

•••

Notes: Thank you all so much for 50 followers! Had to finish and post part 5 today for you all!

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius, @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog, @midnightmystic

Ask to be tagged!

[mandoalorian]

The Secret Of The Wish [Max Lord x F!Reader] SEX POLLEN

Summary: You’re a new intern for the Wall Street Journal, sent out to interview Maxwell Lord, a businessman who has suddenly found financial success in the oil drilling industry. When you ask him what does he owe his success to, he gives you a surprisingly honest answer: through the power of the wish. You make the mistake of humouring him, and playing along with his little story until he proves to you just how powerful wishing can be.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT (sex pollen in the form of wish granting therefore there is automatic dub-con) unprotected p in v, male oral, handjob, tit play, butt play, spanking, cockwarming, creampie, degradation, praise kink, office sex, power-shift, dom/sub dynamic, implied age difference, mutual pining.

Word count: 4400>

Masterlist

REBLOGS appreciated! 🤍

Black Gold Cooperative was booming with business. Even the outside of the building was swamped with hundreds of people who were desperate to get inside and speak to Mr Lord himself. Luckily, you were a journalist for the esteemed Wall Street Journal and your position in the company had earned yourself an interview with the successful CEO. The entire world had thousands upon thousands of questions for Maxwell Lord, and you were the lucky intern who got to meet with him on this humid Wednesday afternoon.

A tall blonde woman who you assumed was his secretary, led you to his office. All his employees seemed to be young, attractive and wore only the best designer clothes. It was almost intimidating. You couldn’t mess this up. You were conducting an interview with one of the most successful people alive - this could actually be your big break in the industry. Taking a deep breath, you made an attempt to swallow away your nerves before making your way into his own private office.

It was extensive in size, with large plants and statues in every corner and on every surface. Honestly, you found his taste in furnishings to be quite tacky. You knew it was just his way of bragging about how wealthy he was without actually saying anything. He was neck deep in paperwork and he hadn’t even noticed you were just standing there, in his office. Your eyes flicked across his messy desk, taking in the sight of multiple opened bottles of vitamins, colourful smoothies and other supplements. You made a mental note, not exactly pinning the salesman as a health freak. You’d been standing there for longer than you’d anticipated and he still hadn’t looked up, so you cleared your throat and prepared to grab his attention.

“Mr Lord… I’m here on behalf of Wall Street Journal, we’re doing a segment on Company Sudden Search....” you began to introduce yourself but a roll of his eyes and a flimsy yet disapproving gesture of his hand cut you off.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” he grumbled, taking a swing of his green juice before fastening the cap back on the bottle and pulling a face of disgust. If he thought it tasted so bad, why was he drinking it? Maxwell took a minute trying to compose himself for the interview. He’d waited his whole life to be interviewed by the Wall Street Journal and no matter how bad his migraine was… he couldn’t mess this up.

In fact… there was something about the way Maxwell Lord looked in this moment. His bottle blonde hair was sticking up in random places, probably due to the beads of sweat that laced his forehead. His tie was pulled open and his suit jacket was crinkled, yet he still made the effort to keep it on for whatever reason. He didn’t look like the persuasive, bright eyed salesman on the television, that’s for sure. You supposed all those studio lights could make anyone look different, but that didn’t necessarily mean he looked bad. He didn’t look sick as such, just a little disheveled. He kept rubbing his temples as if he had a killer headache. You considered asking him if he was okay, but that wasn’t why you were here.

The prolonged silence made Max Lord look up at you from the many papers on his desk. He was frowning, and if one thing was clear, it looked like he was having a bad day. It looked like he could do with some major stress relief. The first two buttons of his pinstripe shirt were open, and his collar was wonky, and honestly? You had to fight the urge to stalk over to him and help him out. You imagined running your fingers through his golden hair, caressing his face and letting your hands wander down his chest. You imagined whispering dirty little things into his ear until he ached for you. There was something about teasing a higher-up that you just couldn’t resist. Nevertheless, you cursed yourself for the inappropriate thoughts. You were a young intern for one of the most successful journalism companies… and shit, he was the CEO of what had suddenly become the richest organization in the world. He was a powerful man, more powerful than you knew. It would be foolish to mess around with a man like Maxwell Lord.

Maxwell took a shaky exhale and done what he could do best. Fake a smile. Feign confidence. Pretend like he was okay... like he had it together. He promised himself that he would not lose control of his power— he couldn’t— but this moment was only the start of his descent into madness. He never knew how hungry he could get... how satisfying his power could be, until he met you.

“Come here sweetheart,” his frown curled upwards into a smirk and his eyes began to gleam again, just like they did on his famous infomercials. His voice became a little louder, and a little more confident as he stood up and padded around his desk, pulling out a chair for you to sit down on. You hesitated, his change in attitude wasn't lost on you, but still, you obliged, and shuffled into the golden plush chair. The material was so soft and you struggled to suppress a moan. “Everything okay?” he asked you, placing a large ring clad hand on your shoulder and giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah I just… I’ve never sat on anything so comfortable.” you confessed, shuffling around. Maxwell’s eyes lit up with desire at your comment and his gaze fixated on your face.

“Really?” Never?” he chuckled lightly, brushing his thumb against his lower lip as he took in your appearance. Just the shape of your perfect body was enough to initiate something primal in him. The tightness of your blouse and the vision of your short pencil skirt that cut off mid-thigh already had his cock straining against his tailored suit pants. “I can think of at least one more comfortable thing in this office for you to sit on.”

You’d be lying if you said you were unfazed by his little flirtation. If any other middle aged man had said something so crude to you, you’d have snapped back with something witty to put them in their place. But Maxwell Lord wasn’t any man and his charm alone had cast you under a spell. Your knees were weak and you felt like putty under his touch. Even when he removed his hand from your shoulder, you felt completely and utterly submissive to him. 

You cleared your throat and opened up your notepad. “I’m just here to ask you a few questions…” you told the businessman, biting your lip nervously. Maxwell nodded and sat on the edge of his desk, waiting patiently for you to get started. “So uhm, Forbes is reveling in the fact you’re self made… but not much is known about your past. We don’t know about your family or where you come from… is there anything relevant you’d like to share with the world?” you asked curiously.

And for the first time, Maxwell Lord broke his gaze with you and looked down at the carpeted floor. “There’s not much to say, really.” he said, but there was something in his tone of voice that indicated he wasn’t willing to provide any further details. Hoping you hadn’t struck a sensitive cord with him, you glanced back down at your notepad to ask him another question.

“I hope you don’t think I’m prying, but not much is known about your personal life. A handsome, wealthy man like yourself can’t be single, right?” you asked, even startling yourself over how over bearing you’d begun to sound. Maxwell let out a chuckle and quirked an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I’m single, yes. Tell me darling, is this Wall Street Journal or US Weekly?” he joked, and you felt a flush of heat radiate your cheeks. You knew better.

“I’m sorry. It was an unprofessional question,” you quickly backtracked. “Do you uhm… do you have a pen… I could borrow?” You asked awkwardly, feeling a little irked over how flustered his simple presence had made you. You'd been so nervous to actually meet with Max Lord, you'd even forgotten to bring something to write with. You were so embarassed. But Maxwell was hardly paying attention to your lack of organization, and instead he just smiled and grabbed a gold encrusted company pen from his desk. “Thank you.” you said timidly. “Can I ask you something?”

“That’s why you’re here… isn’t it?” he retorted playfully. 

“The interview is about Company Sudden Search and for some reason there are no questions about your company… just you,” you frowned apologetically. You hadn't come up with the questions, one of your executives had. You were just there to look pretty and milk as much information out of him as you could. “I guess the world is curious about you, Mr Lord. More curious about your private life than this empire that you have created. But Black Gold Cooperative had been off the grid for many years only prior to this week and now suddenly you’re the wealthiest company in the world. You’re the richest man in the US. And data shows absolute no correlation towards that. Your purchased oil wells were dry until one day they just weren’t. It wasn’t gradual, but Mr Lord, we are living during the Cold War and oil is as scarce enough as it is. How… how did this happen? You must know something.”

As you rambled on, Maxwell stared dead into you. You hadn’t been asked to say this, this was coming from your own interest. You had done your own digging about this (just like any successful journalist would), snooping into Maxwell’s business and finding out exactly which oil fields he owned and how much oil was in them in the first place. This wasn’t coming from the Wall Street Journal. This was coming from you. Maxwell never expected to be confronted with such a question. You were practically trapping him, but the way you could swindle the truth out of him was an attractive quality of yours. Not many people could get the truth out of Max Lord.

Maxwell chuckled lightly. He could tell you. It wouldn't make much of a difference. Besides, you’d be foolish to believe the truth. You’d think he’d gone insane. Had he gone insane? These damn migraines… he was drunk on power… his mind had become corrupt with the idea of fortune and success. And he needed this interview to go well.

Maxwell grinned, as charming as ever, and took both of your hands. “I made a wish.” he told you, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

You paused, unsure what to make of his comment. Was he making a joke? It didn’t sound like he was joking. In fact he sounded more serious than ever. “Like… upon a star?” you asked, giggling only slightly in attempt to make a judgement of whether or not he was just messing with you. Maxwell smirked and nodded his head. He’d expected that you wouldn’t believe him.

“On my journey to self fulfilment I locked into a secret, the secret of the wish. So I wished for it. Or, someone wished for it for me…” Maxwell explained, talking in tongue twisters. His fingers brushed over your knuckles. As you listened to him, he noticed the way your eyebrows knotted together in bewilderment. He was definitely serious about the wishing thing. But if he wasn’t going to be honest with you, then maybe this interview was more trouble than it was worth. Just as you were about to break away your contact with his hands, he continued. “Tell me what you wish for you and I will show you how it works.”

That was quite the proposal coming from him.

You blinked. “Uhm…” He stared at you, waiting for you to come up with some kind of answer. You supposed that you could always just humour him. “So you’re like a genie?”

“I’m Max Lord, sweetheart, and I can make your darkest fantasies come true as long as you just say the word.” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

The sexual tension between you both was undeniable, and it had been since you had entered his office. His already chocolate brown eyes had darkened considerably with lust. You pursed your lips together into a fine line and you tried your very best to ignore the fact that your lace panties were damp with arousal. You knew he was powerful. Strong… sexy. You’d been in his office for barely five minutes and he already had a hold on you.

“I suppose I’d want success in my career. It’s hard… being taken seriously, as a woman in journalism. It would be nice to just feel respected amongst my peers.” you confessed.

“The people at Wall Street don’t respect you?” Maxwell asked, and you swore that for a split second he sounded genuinely concerned.

“Uhm… I feel like I’m not really at liberty to discuss that. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have mentioned it in the first place.” you scrunched up your nose.

“Because you deserve respect, miss Y/L/N.” Maxwell promised you, his hand sinking down to caress your thigh. You gasped under his touch and looked up at the ceiling. “Is this alright… me touching you like this?” he cooed, tracing circles over your pantyhose.

“Mm.” you mumbled in agreement, your eyes fluttering shut as his fingers dipped under the hem of your skirt.

“So if you could wish for one thing… one thing at this very moment in time, it would be for success in your career? Is that true?” Maxwell quizzed, eyeing you up with curiosity.

No.

It wasn’t true.

In fact your career— this interview— was the last thing on your mind.

Fuck.

Silently, you shook your head. “So darling, tell me, what would you wish for?”

You sighed in defeat, remembering that you’d just humour him. It wasn’t exactly professional but he wasn’t helping you out either. Just go along with it, you told yourself. You finally looked back down at him and saw that his lips were moist from where he’d hungrily licked at them, his eyes fixated on your breasts and the way he could just about see the lace print underneath the thin material.

“I’d wish for you…” you shakily exhaled. And that caught his attention. His gaze flicked up to meet yours and he waited for you to continue. “I’d wish for you to let me use you to get what I want. You’re rich… powerful… wealthy…” A gust of air distracted you and a breeze blew through your hair. The windows weren’t open, the fan wasn’t on, and Maxwell looked completely and utterly spent over your revelation. It had just came out of nowhere. There was a few beats of silence and Max looked you up and down.

“What do you want?” he croaked meekly. He removed his hand from your thigh and his whole demeanor changed in a split second.

When you noticed how stiff his manhood was, and the way his precum had already leaked out onto the grey material of his pants, it stirred something up inside of you. He wanted this too, that much was clear.

And now, the roles had reversed. You were no longer the shy intern interviewing the big name CEO, you were a sexy journalist who’s nipples had hardened significantly and you had this fresh yet welcoming air of power to you. There were two people in this office and yet suddenly, you were the one in control.

Maxwell’s perfect, plush lips had parted and his dark eyes followed you as you stood up from your seat. He looked down at the wet patch from where you were sitting and gulped, imagining just how great it would feel to slide his fingers through your folds and feel your arousal himself.

All for him.

“I think you know.” you replied softly, sitting him down in the golden chair that you had once made yourself comfortable in. You pulled off his crumpled suit jacket and discarded his tie, throwing it haphazardly onto his already messy desk, and then sunk down to your knees, spreading his legs apart.

You began to palm at his erection through his pants, involuntarily licking your lips as your fingers danced around his growing bulge. “Ngh- fucking tease.” he groaned, his eyes snapping shut the second he felt you begin to work at removing his belt. You pulled down his zipper and reached into his pants, pulling his cock free. He wasn’t enormous, but definitely above average, and thicker than you’d ever taken before.

“You just need someone to make you feel nice, don’t you?” you cooed gently before licking a stripe up the base of his cock. “All this stress from work… huh? From making people’s wishes come true.”

“You… you have no idea.” Maxwell grunted, his cock twitching in your hands as you pressed a sweet little kiss to his head. His slit was still leaking with precum and you were desperate to get a taste of the CEO. You gave him a small kitten lick, relishing the saltiness of his seed. He was delicious.

This shouldn’t have been happening. Sure, Maxwell was hard before you’d even made the wish, but holy crap, he didn’t expect for this to actually happen. And neither did you. You assumed he was lying, just like he lied about everything else in his life. Afterall, who was going to believe a man who told you his success was owed to wish granting? 

“Mr Lord… you’re so big.” you sighed longingly before making an attempt to attach your lips around his cock. He looked down at you and let his hands grip the back of your head as you sucked on his sensitive tip. 

Who would've guessed that a good blowjob was exactly what Max Lord needed to feel better about himself?

Max felt like he was in heaven. He was already seeing stars. He’d been granting peoples wishes left, right and centre. He wasn’t necessarily touch starved but it had been a good few weeks since he’d gone without sex; his only motivation being to find and harness the power of the dreamstone. But you were giving him the best head he’d ever had in his life. It was like everything was pent up inside of him. His balls were tight and he was achingly hard and in a moment of pure lust, he thrusted his hips deep into your mouth. The sudden movement had you gagging and a trail of saliva mixed with his precum dripped down your lips. You pulled off him, gasping for air but quickly wrapped your lips back around him and taking his length even further than before. If he filled your mouth this good, you wondered how he’d feel filling your pussy.

“Not gonna last… fuck!” Maxwell cried, his cum shamelessly spurting into your mouth. His load was massive and he doubled out of you, the remnants of his seed spilling against your lips and down your chin. His heart was beating rapidly against his chest as he took in the appearance of you, down on your knees, in between his legs, with his milky white cum all over your pretty face.

Despite his orgasm, Maxwell was still hard. He still craved more. More of a release from you. It must’ve been your wish that created this desperation that dwelled inside of him.

“More,” he pleaded, his eyes round and doe-like. “Please, I need more.”

“Say less.” you whispered, unbuttoning your blouse and pulling down your skirt and pantyhose so you were simply just standing there in your white lingerie set. You looked so pure and innocent, and yet you were in absolute full control of this situation. You were the one dominating him.

“You said you wish to use me, so use me.” Maxwell begged as he extended his arms and made grabby fists, desperate for you to come over and help him out. 

He was right. This was your wish. You could play along with this for as long as you wanted. You removed your panties, unclipped your bra and discarded the garments, letting your breasts fall free. Maxwell’s jaw dropped at the sight of you and you stalked over to him. You straddled him and sat on his lap.

With one hand, you wrapped your fingers around his cock again and began to slowly jerk it, beginning a handjob which was more than pleasant for him. With your free hand, you grabbed onto his shoulder and steadied yourself, before stretching your body and pressing one of your breasts into his mouth. His lips latched around your tit immediately and he began to suck on your nipple as you continued to rub his cock. You moaned with pleasure, tossing your head back as his tongue worked at the hard little bud.

You subconsciously found yourself riding his thigh, dragging your dripping wet cunt along his expensive pants and making an absolute mess of them. He experimentally flexed the muscles in his thigh a few times, trying to gauge a reaction out of you and see how you liked it. His teeth grazed your breast and he let himself get a little too excited, peppering love bites all over your chest.

“Yes, that’s it,” Maxwell groaned. “Take what you need sweet girl.” he praised.

You whimpered when he flexed his thigh again and you felt yourself begin to reach your climax. You clenched around nothing and his cock was throbbing in your hand. You knew he needed more too.

You let go of him and he pulled his mouth off your tit with a ‘pop’. You cupped his face with both your hands and adjusted yourself slightly, this time so the tip of his cock was pressed against your entrance. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for his stretch before sinking down onto his length, settling balls deep. “Fuck… Fuck fuck fuck,” you chanted, your eyes squeezing tight shut as he filled you.

“Move.” he gasped, biting down on your shoulder. You whimpered and tugged on his golden hair, sending him into an absolute frenzy.

“Fuck, Mr Lord… oh god please, you’re so fucking big.” you cried, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. He wanted you to move, sure, but this was your wish, and you were more than happy to just sit on and warm his cock for a few minutes.

Your walls were tight and perfect around him, just like he’d imagined. You brought your finger down to your cunt and began to rub at your clit as his cock stretched you out. Your moans of gratification echoed throughout the extensively sized office and you felt your juices drip down his cock.

“So good,” he whispered. “Move, please.”

“Mmm,” you couldn’t even fumble out words, and your vision was nothing less than a haze.

He rubbed the pad of his finger against your puckered asshole before sliding it in. Your body tensed up at the intrusion but God did it feel good. “Fucking move.” he growled, biting down on your earlobe as he began to thrust his index finger in and out of you.

Maxwell brought a hand down to cup your ass and he gave you a rough spanking. “Move.” He repeated, this time his tone a lot more demanding and less polite than the first time.

And just like that— he was in control again.

You obliged, not wanting to irk him any more, and began to bounce on his cock. “Greedy bitch,” he grunted, spanking you again. “Fuck… thinking you can use my dick for your own pleasure, huh? Everything comes with a price.” he hissed as you rolled your hips over his manhood.

“Oh Mr Lord.” you sighed with every movement, as his cock pressed against that sweet spot inside of you.

“You just couldn’t resist it, could you?” Maxwell asked rhetorically, a villainous smirk crossing his lips. “One great wish and you wish to ride my fucking cock," He had a point. People had come to him wishing for Porsche's, political power,— and you, with your whole chest, had wished to be the one who could pleasure him. Help him let go. “Shit baby, you take me so well.”

Despite his growls of degradation you knew he wasn’t going to last long, if the way his cock throbbed inside of you was anything to go by. You didn’t mind though. He could disrespect you all he wanted. You were more than happy to be Maxwell Lord’s little cumslut. His little whore.

“G-gonna cum, oh fuck, please.” you screamed, pressing your fingernails into his back as you rode out your high.

“Yes,” he moaned wantonly. “Soak my cock.” And with those three words, you came undone, sat on top of the richest and most successful CEO in the world. “Are you safe?” he asked, his hips bucking up into your sensitive core.

“I am.” you confirmed, and without even asking for permission, he spilt his seed inside of you, ruthlessly painting your walls with his cum.

He kept his cock inside of you until it softened and slipped out, and you mumbled something incoherent at the loss of his fullness. Maxwell watched your chest as you heaved, making every attempt you could to catch your breath. He pressed a sweet kiss into your collar bone, and then up your neck and along your jaw. You relished the feeling of his lips against skin; post coital bliss fostering your every thought.

“You’re a good girl,” he whispered, rubbing the curve of his nose against your neck. “I grant you your wish, and in return, I give you the utmost success in your career.” he sighed, and for the very first time Maxwell Lord said something completely and utterly selfless. It was through no gain to him whatsoever. You didn’t deserve to be looked down upon by your peers and employers, he knew that much. And if he had the chance to change that, he sure as hell would. 

“You will achieve things no journalist has achieved before, you will be rich, and be the first to seize every opportunity.” he said in between kisses.

To you, he was just whispering sweet nothings into your ear, humouring your larger-than-life dreams and ambitions. But if there was one thing that Maxwell Lord admired in a woman, it was her aspiration and goals. If you were brave enough to waltz into his office as let him cum all over you, you definitely deserve this. At that moment, you had no idea that Maxwell Lord would change your life forever...

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711  @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor

[slashbitch2]

Extra Complications

never expected to be crushing on an animated character but here we are

Next Chapter

It was sneaky. Perhaps cheating by some standards. But from your perspective, it was a damn good plan.

Ironically you'd seen the advertisement for the Alchemax internship right after being flung into a wall by the very same woman who'd likely approved the broadcast. Olivia Octavius, or Doc Ock as you ought to refer to her in costume. Though she'd given you little time to read up on 'how to apply', as moments later a car was thrown in your direction, which was very inconsiderate of her, but was also all the persuasion you needed.

At this point, you'd be willing to do anything if it contributed to thwarting her, surely, very evil plan. Of course you admired the woman for her general genius and eccentricity, but the constant unprovoked conflict was becoming tiresome. It felt as if she were trying to determine how much of a threat you posed, whereas, you liked to think your legacy as 'that Spider-Person who sometimes saves the day' was all the evidence necessary.

Honestly, you weren't certain as to what exactly her, no doubt, villainous plan entailed besides patrolling the streets in green swimming goggles and black spandex with ridiculous plastic tubes jutting out of her back. In fact, it was ridiculous that no one had made any attempt to stop her yet. Unlike your identity, kept secret by a more modest spandex suit, hers was public knowledge.

Sometimes, it seemed as though you were the enemy here.

Which is precisely why infiltrating her team of scientists was more than appropriate. You were about to single handily take down an international threat, one hidden in plain sight, but left untouched due to the company's vast money, leverage and prestige.

Someday the city would thank you for your many sacrifices. Specifically for voluntarily working another job without pay. Y/N Y/L/N, broke intern by day, friendly neighbourhood Spider-Person by night.

"Excuse me?" A voice called from the left, your vision of them obstructed by an inconveniently placed potted plant. "Are you the new intern?" The person stepped closer, briefly glancing up at you, then back down at a sheet of paper. "Y/N Y/L/N?" The woman's timid appearance hardly screamed villainous scientist, but then again, looks can be deceiving.

"Yes, that's me." You stood, reaching out to shake her hand.

She sighed in relief, shaking your hand a tad too enthusiastically. "Lovely to meet you. I'm Marie and I'll be getting you settled in for the first few days."

A spark of disappointment flashed across your mind. Olivia hadn't been there for your interview, nor had any sway in your hiring, and now she wasn't even the person greeting you on your first day. Although you had no right to be, you felt rather offended by the lack of challenge she was providing. It was almost too easy.

---

To be fair, Marie was the perfect candidate to give you a tour of the facility. She was kind and patient, but not condescending. She seldom spoke beyond what was required of her, unless you asked something work related, when her lengthy response would affirm her status as an epicure of scientific knowledge. By midday, you'd decided she was someone to befriend, and subsequently accepted her invitation to have lunch together.

You were also hoping that the team would eat lunch as a group, but alas, more disappointment. Instead, you spent the break sitting in an awkward silence with Marie, who seemed to loose basic communication skills when presented with food. In spite of her lack of engagement, you still took the opportunity to try and ascertain information about the project you'd be working on, though each time she expertly diverted the interrogation, or ignored your question entirely.

Who knew working for an evil, secretive corporation would be so boring?

It was a test of patience to be sitting in the same building as Olivia Octavius, while forced to shadow an incredibly kind, but slow eating woman. Realistically, you knew there'd be plenty of time to investigate, though you were reluctant to end the day without any progress. So, while Marie was still distracted by her lunch, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

She dismissively approved with a wave of her hand, allowing you to slip away from the dining hall. You vaguely remembered the location of Olivia's office as being on the top floor, indicated by Marie's imprecise pointing. She'd explained that very few had clearance to get in, but you'd already thought of a way to get passed the security.

Who aside from the highest ranking scientists had access to every room? Janitors, of course. Because, for some reason, cleanliness was more important than security.

It didn't take long to locate a cleaner, or much effort to pickpocket the security card. To be on the safe side, you even had an excuse ready: that the man had dropped it, that you were simply looking for him to return it. And if Olivia caught you in her office, well, she wouldn't (Spider-Senses and all). Again, it was almost too easy.

There was a minatory silence as you walked along the final corridor toward her office. Part of you felt as though this was some kind of elaborate trap, the repeated phrase 'too easy' coming to mind as you reached the door. Though the logical part of you must've known this was a fatuous suggestion, and took control.

With a final pause to confirm nobody was approaching, or was already waiting inside, you scanned the key card. The action was rewarded with a satisfactory beep, followed by the door sliding open so fast it appeared to have vanished.

The office was smaller than you anticipated. Or maybe it was the bareness of the room that caught you off guard. The woman was insane, yet her work area hardly reflected her deranged mental state. Everything was so perfectly neat that you began to wonder if you'd actually walked onto a movie set, or a photoshoot, which would've explained the strange ring lights hanging from the ceiling.

Upon reaching the centre of the room, you were struck by the realisation that you truthfully had no reason to be here. Even if the office had been as messy as you'd expected, it was unlikely that she'd leave her super evil plans lying around. Rather, It'd been some morbid curiosity that had lured you here. To see where The Doc Ock worked, where the alter ego was likely created. The reality was underwhelming to say the least.

Deciding that you'd spent enough time admiring an incredibly bland office, you exited back out into the empty corridor, nonchalantly throwing the security card behind you, certain someone would eventually return it. Then, as if right on cue, you sensed somebody approaching, soon followed by footsteps resonating from around the corner. With no way of avoiding them, you kept your head down with the intention of blending in.

Olivia Octavius rounded the corner, not sparing a glance up. She was frowning at a piece of paper, her full attention directed to it, blissfully unaware of your presence.

Instinctively, your entire body tensed at the sight of her lithe frame and mass of hair spilling out of its messy bun. Any other circumstance and you'd have fled by now, through a vent, out of the window, it didn't matter. Though you had to remind yourself that there was no reason to be afraid now. There was no possible way she could know your identity.

Nonetheless, as you passed her with less than a metre of space, you held your breath. She said nothing and you both kept walking in opposite directions.

It seemed the coast was clear. You released the breath you'd been holding and kept moving until. "Hey, wait a minute."

You froze, aching to ignore her and escape. Her voice was deep, more so than you were prepared for. While fighting, few words were exchanged, and even then they were unintelligible. Although, now was the worst time to be thinking about previous interactions, so with much difficulty, you cleared your mind. As far as anyone knew, including yourself, you were just the intern.

You ran a hand through your hair nervously, straightening out your lab coat and turning to face her. She was stood at the far end of the long white corridor, entirely unthreatening when compared to Doc Ock, who would've loomed over you menacingly.

Remembering the role you were meant to be playing, you choked out a response. "How can I be of assistance?"

"You're the new intern, right?"

"Yeah." You considered approaching to shake her hand, but the idea of awkwardly marching the length of the corridor to greet her was rather unappealing. "That's me." You settled for a polite smile and shoulder shrug instead.

She screwed up her face in consideration before crooking a finger. "Come with me."

Swallowing any concern, you nodded hesitantly. The prospect of returning to the office you'd broken into only moments ago had you dragging your feet.

She waited patiently until you were by her side to continue. "Don't worry." She scanned her key card. "I don't bite." Her tone was playful, her eyes kindly mocking.

"Good to know." You muttered, following her inside. You took a second to look around the room with mock curiosity, feeling her eyes trace your every move. Like a predator, eyeing up its prey, determining your weaknesses. Unlike the encounters with Doc Ock, it was uncertain who had the high ground here. Her gaze was putting you on edge, not dissimilar to how your character of 'the intern' would react.

"So..." She shuffled some papers around on the desk, finding what looked to be your application. "Ms. Y/L/N right?"

You confirmed with a nod, summoning the resolve to amble toward her desk.

"Take a seat." She gestured to the chair opposite, letting you sit before proceeding. "Tell me about yourself, Y/N."

You started to think of an adequate answer, but she interrupted a second later, contradicting her initial inquiry. "Are you okay with me calling you Y/N?" She leant her head on a closed fist, narrowing her eyes.

Although the question sounded considerate, you didn't feel the implied sincerity. Even if you wanted to say no, that didn't feel like a suitable response. "Sure."

Somehow, it felt like she was establishing dominance through the polite act, and combined with being under her scrutinising glare, the performance was working.

"Great." Suddenly, she leant back in her chair, all evidence of the hostile act disappearing instantaneously.

"What'd you want to know?" Mirroring her relaxed posture, you attempted to re-establish some control.

"Oh, anything." A flicker of something passed in her eyes, piqued interest possibly?

You began routinely rattling off some basic facts about yourself, nothing too specific or personal. Facts that would answer any follow up questions she might have, and yet said nothing about you. Surprisingly, she seemed hooked on your every word. The thought crossed your mind that this might be the real interview, that everything else up to this point had been a sham. But you settled on a more unsettling justification. That she was committing everything you said to memory.

Coming to the end of the informative monologue, you decided to take a risk. "Do I get to ask a question?" You raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Inquisitive. I like that." She stated, folding her arms on the desk. "Go ahead."

You decided to see how far you could push your luck. "Tell me about yourself." You smugly repeated her vague first query. It was the Doctor's turn to come up with an answer to the ambiguous demand.

She scoffed, realising your plan to make her struggle. "Touché. But I'm rather busy, so how about you pick a more specific question."

Narrowing it down, there was only one thing you wanted to ask. "Can I see the-" You waved your arms around, imitating tentacles. "the suit?"

She chuckled, slowly standing. Judging from her lack of surprise, this was likely a request she'd heard many times.

First, she removed her glasses. Then slipped out of her lab coat. Next to go was the shirt, which she pulled over her head while maintaining eye contact. You wanted to look away, out of respect, yet you didn't. Without the shirt, you noticed she was already wearing the suit underneath and had the harness strapped to her back, confirming your suspicion that she always had access to the weapon. As she was stepping out of her trousers, the arms (tentacles?) inflated, and within moments were threateningly extending to their full potential.

She smiled proudly, enjoying your stunned expression. "As good as you expected?"

"Better." Unable to resist any longer, you stood to investigate the suit in further detail. You'd never seen it stationary, or had the opportunity to try and gauge the details of how it worked. Although you argued this would be beneficial for your next fight, in reality you just wanted to admire the contraption. You circled round, marvelling at the simplicity of the design. It was convenient, yet elegant. "It's beautiful."

Coming to a stop in front of Olivia, she had an unreadable expression. A mix of emotions, most prominently confusion. To your delight, a faint blush coloured her cheeks. Whatever unspoken game you'd been playing, you were winning, or were until she said. "How'd you like to intern for me?"

You quickly recovered. "I already do."

"No." She sighed. "I mean personally. As my assistant? You'd get your own desk, an almost guaranteed job at the end of it and so much more experience than you'd bargained for." She leant forward, a little too close for comfort. There was an unhinged look in her eyes more reminiscent of Doc Ock that both convinced and deterred you. "So what'd you say?"

She genuinely wanted you to work with her.

This hadn't been part of the plan. You'd expected to spend no longer than a few months working at Alchemax. To uncover their evil scheme, figure out how to stop it and hopefully take down the company. An optimistic plan, sure, but one you'd been assured you'd stick to. Although, the opportunity to work closely with Olivia Octavian, with the Doc Ock, was too good to pass on. Not to mention, infinitely more interesting.

You grinned, embracing the insanity that your answer would incur. "I'd love to."

She clapped her hands together. "Great!" Then offered her hand for you to shake formally. "I'll sort out the paperwork and details this evening, but right now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

She left before you had the chance to say anything else, still in her suit, which left you confused for the following half hour. You finally understood upon catching a glimpse of a news alert on your phone.

Doc Ock Seizes Bank, Has Taken Hostages!

You sighed. Today was going to be a long day, and things were only going to get more complicated.

[violettelueur]

— KUGISAKI NOBARA || MAYBE ANOTHER TIME

↳ featuring : kugisaki nobara from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues and spoilers for non-manga readers

↳ spoiler warnings : chapter 37-38

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 20 january

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.6k

↳ request : Hii!! May i request a Nobara Kugisaki x fem reader imagine, in which she has a crush on them and its obvious to everybody except her? Maybe throw in some angsttttt?? (This is the anon that requested smth similar to this)

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, with the scenario i made, i don’t think i was able to put any angst into it ʕ ﾟ ● ﾟʔ but i hope you really like it! also the next imagine will be staring mr. gojo satoru - the man that has everyone leaving their significant others hehehe ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ but other than that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come to the cafe again soon ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

“Itadori, Fushiguro, this is really important announcement that I have to make.”

Both of the mentioned sorcerers looked upon their classmate with utter confusion painted on their faces as they weren’t sure on the current reason why Kugisaki had commanded them to have a meeting together without you involved. However, Itadori and Fushiguro didn’t express any disagreements due to knowing how the female sorcerer could become when she got either annoyed or extremely irritated.

“I, Kugisaki Nobara, have a crush on L/N Y/N,” Kugisaki suddenly announced causing both of the boys to look at her with surprise before unexpectedly declaring to the weapons sorcerer, “we already knew that,” leading Kugisaki to look at Fushiguro and Itadori with widened eyes of utter shock before immediately slamming her hands on the table they were sitting at as she swiftly stood up.

“HUH?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY KNOW?” Kugisaki angrily shouted as she intensely eyed her two classmates trying to find the reason or reasons on how they already had knowledge of her unrequited feelings towards you.

“I can’t lie, your feelings are quite obvious Kugisaki,” Itadori carefully mentioned, as he didn’t want to anger the female sorcerer more to which he then continued by saying, “but I don’t think L/N knows about them at all,” leading Kugisaki to drop back into her chair as she then slumped on her chair in relief due to the salmon-haired boy’s comment.

While on one end, Kugisaki was extremely content on the fact that you have no acknowledgement of her feelings towards you but on the other hand, she was frustrated that her actions towards you weren’t getting through to you at all and that she was somewhat nervous to confess to you, leading to the orange-haired girl to groan in frustration to which was caught on by both Fushiguro and Itadori.

“I don’t think there is anything to be scared about,” Itadori quickly mentioned as he tried to calm his friend down before leading his statement with, “so what are you worried about?”.

“She’s worried that L/n is only attracted to men,” Fushiguro bluntly stated, causing Kugisaki to quickly look at the shikigami user with a death glare before instantly flopping back into the dis-hearted position she was in previously.

‘Don’t be too blunt, you idiot’

However, she couldn’t argue with Fushiguro, she was completely and extremely worried at the fact that you only were attracted to men. To be honest, your actions didn’t help either whenever the four of you were on missions together.

From what she could recall since the day she arrived at the capital, Kugisaki thought you were gorgeous the second she laid eyes on you when you stood between Fushiguro and Itadori in front of Harajuku Station and she wasn’t the only one. When everyone was making their way to Roppongi, you were stopped by quite a few modelling scouts along the way to which you, of course, rejected due to your occupation of being a first-year jujutsu sorcerer only for one of the scouts to become physical with his persuasion leading to your childhood friend Fushiguro to step in and help dissolve the situation.

‘Ugh, she probably likes Fushiguro’

However, other than your physical appearance, what Kugisaki loves about you the most was your determination and strength. She clearly remembered when you were with her and Panda during the Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Exchange event and you had somehow managed to defeat Muta so quickly despite being a grade lower than him causing her feelings towards you to only manifest even more than she had anticipated from the start.

“Fushiguro, what’s L/N type since you are her closest friend?” Itadori then curiously asked, as he wanted to help Kugisaki with the whole ‘feeling towards you but doesn’t know if you like females’ situation - but he also didn’t want to be a victim with her wrath like he had been many times before.

“She never really told me what her type was,” Fushiguro muttered as he continued reading his book that he had taken out in the middle of Kugisaki’s breakdown leading to Kugisaki to place her forehead on the table with shame as she began to recall that her two classmates right in front of her was no help at all - in fact, Itadori and Fushiguro were both useless when it came to the topic of you. 

“Ahhhh Fushiguro, she probably likes you,” Kugisaki muttered under her breath as she then lifted her head up to send other menacing death glare towards the sorcerer causing the shikigami user to somehow feel shivers as he felt the dark aura exhibiting from the girl’s body.

“Fushiguro is handsome, but that doesn’t make me like him at all.”

Suddenly, upon hearing that comment, Kugisaki shot straight up and quickly looked to the side, only to find you leaning forward across the table as you gape at your childhood friend before pulling the extra seat out that was next to your now flustered classmate leading to some questions to swim in your mind.

“What are you guys talking about now? I feel left out, to be honest,” you asked, as you took your seat leading to the trio to uncharacteristically become silent.

‘Now this is awkward….’

Breaking the silence, you couldn’t help but question your three classmates further since you managed to hear some parts of the conversation they were having when you were walking around. “Did I disrupt something, because I can leave if you want,” you kindly offered, as you began to lift yourself up from your seat as quickly as you sat down. However, before you could fully stand up, Itadori quickly exclaimed that you didn’t need to leave and that he actually wanted to ask a few questions to you.

“L/N, would you rather have a male or female as your significant other?” Itadori suddenly asked you, leading you to look at your friend with slight confusion displayed on your face before looking around the table only to find that everyone else was also interested in your anticipated answer - even Fushiguro seemed to be intrigued to your surprise.

“I don’t think that really matters, to be honest, I have no issue with gender at all,” you casually answered, leading to the trio internally sign in relief at your answer since Fushiguro and itadori didn’t want to see their friend disappointed, while Kugisaki realised that she still had a chance.

“Do you have a crush on someone right now?” Kugisaki questioned, trying to act natural and confident as she didn’t want to explicitly showcase any of her lingering anxiety in front of you.

“I do, but I’m scared that they might not even like me that way one single bit,” you replied with a light tone as you then playfully sighed in disappointment leading Kugisaki to counteract your statement in a frustrated tone, “what do you mean? I bet they really like you L/N a hell of a lot, it’s crazy to think otherwise!”.

“But what if she only likes guys though, ugh that’s such a drag,” you mentioned with extreme annoyance. However, this little statement of yours caused all three of the sorcerers with you right now to gape at you with broadened eyes.

‘Wait…’

‘She?’

‘ONLY LIKE GUYS?’

“L/N, YOU LIKE A GIRL?!” Itadori and Kugisaki screamed in shock, leading you to look at both of your energetic friends in extreme confusion before quietly commenting, “didn’t I just say that gender wasn’t an issue?”

“We can help if you want!” Itadori excitedly commented with a hint of shine in his eyes causing you to giggle slightly before saying, “thank you, but it’s fine, I’ll rather be friends with her than make things really awkward in the end,” leading to the lively duo to sit back down into their seats with a small pout on their faces.

“Why do you look so disappointed? That’s the reality of crushes you know, once you confess there is no going back no matter what answer you are given and it’s hella more awkward when they are the same gender as you when you get rejected,” you quickly explained as if you had experienced it - when in reality you haven’t at all.

“Yeah, but I like a girl as well, so we’re in the same boat,” Kugisaki confessed as she pointed at herself leading to you to look at her in shock as you didn’t accept your friend to be in the same situation as you. “I feel like she wouldn’t like me at all since I've given her some clues here and there but I do know that she likes girls, so I am kind of in the clear of that!” Kugisaki explained as she looked at you with hope in her eyes causing you to gently smile at her due to how cute she looked.

‘Ain’t she adorable?’

“Lucky you then,” you said with a small smile on your face as you turned to look at your other friends as they continued to ask questions about newly known crush leading you to answer them as briefly as possible since you didn’t want to reveal too much to them since you weren’t going to risk your secret to the girl that was next to you.

‘Maybe another time’ you and Kugisaki thought as you both continued to stare at the boys that were seated in front of you.

However, what they didn’t notice was how yours and Kugisaki’s hands were lightly brushing against each other under the table until you both unexpectedly linked your pinky fingers together causing a shy pale pink blush to appear on both your faces. 

‘Yeah, maybe another time’

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[the-nagakenny-archives]

((OOC: Don’t have a title for this one, but it was inspired by a short piece my friend @crooked-tarot-rp sent me one day XD It features Gotham AU Kenny and two of my friend’s characters---Alder the elf and Aeschylus the cambion---and also some hypnosis and slight foot domination, so fair warning!))

It had been easy enough for Alder to break into Kenny's office while it was unattended. The hard part, he was discovering with growing frustration, was getting anything out of it to make even that slight effort worthwhile. There had to be something, he kept insisting to himself. All of these rich, eccentric types always had something to hide. And Kenny was very rich and very eccentric---with more emphasis on the latter, in Alder's opinion. Nobody could be that obsessed with snakes and be a well-adjusted human being. The trouble was he couldn't find any evidence that supported that theory; no lurid photographs, no documents detailing embezzlements, no credit card statements with incriminating purchases. Hell, apparently the man didn't keep a spare cell phone or even a laptop to do business on in here. He was well beyond annoyed at how fruitless his search was becoming. "Looking for something?" Alder gave a start; the voice that had spoken from the doorway had been soft and sly, but it might as well have been as loud as a gunshot. Alder's heart thudded uncomfortably in his ears for a moment as he turned around to face Kenny standing there, but reassembled his composure quickly. His eyes twinkled, lips curling into a smirk. "Was that not obvious?" he purred. "Oh no, I just thought I'd help tidy things up a bit. After business hours, of course. Speaking of which: shouldn't you be at home, getting ready for bed? Work must be so exhausting for you, after all." "Heh, not really. I do a lot of napping up here, mostly." Kenny's expression and demeanor were disarmingly amicable, but Alder couldn't help seeing something else there as well. He thought back to when he and Aesch first met him and Alder had tried his persuasive methods on him; it hadn't worked, which annoyed him (in fact just the memory of it now was making him flush a bit), but there had been something altogether more worrying in the man's eyes. A cunning glint that seemed almost inhuman. Alder thought he was seeing it now, too. Kenny began walking toward his desk, gesturing to the chair in front of it while he went to sit down in the faux leather wingback behind it. "Well, since you're here," he said cheerfully, "grab a seat and let's have a chat. I've been meaning to have a one-on-one with you, actually." He folded his hands over his desk and smiled at him expectantly. Alder blinked incredulously for a moment, then snorted. "Aha....a chat, is it? You haven't....you know, called the police with a panic button under your desk or anything?" Or have a gun concealed on you that you plan on using at some point? Because I really don't like that smile of yours, no matter how handsome you happen to be, he thought uncomfortably. Kenny's smile became one of wry playfulness. "Nope. Cross my heart." He drew an 'X' over his chest with an elaborate flourish, then pointed his finger out, beckoning. "Come here." His tone was soft, lilting, though Alder thought he detected a casual air of command. He felt his cheeks flush as a roiling tide of irritation rose in him for just a moment. He wasn't someone who allowed himself to be bossed around like a truant employee, but then again he was the one in a compromising position; the thought of the police getting involved didn't bother him, but the thought of Kenny possibly saying something about this to Aesch certainly did. He wondered briefly if that had occurred to Kenny at all, and got his answer looking into that prehistoric shark smile. Of course he had.

"Hmph," he grunted, begrudgingly parking himself in the chair across from Kenny. "Very well. What's on your mind, then?" Besides snakes, that is, he thought with sardonic satisfaction.

"Actually," Kenny replied, his tone unchanged, "I'd like to discuss what's on yours." His eyebrow arched knowingly. "You think I'm hiding something, and you want to know what it is so you can blackmail me. Do I have that right?"

Alder flashed back a self-assured smile, though small alarm bells were ringing in his head. Careful, old boy. This one's not as dumb as he looks. "Getting straight to the point, are we?" He ran a hand flippantly through his hair. "I'm just looking out for my friend. Making sure he's not involving himself with someone....well...." He chuckled, and instead of elaborating he tipped his hand back and forth, letting that speak for itself. "My snooping around shouldn't bother you if you don't have something to hide though, don't you think?" His eyes glittered slyly. "Mmm, it doesn't bother me," Kenny said, and there was nothing in Kenny's voice or expression that suggested the contrary. "I find it more than a little flattering that you've taken that kind of interest in me. You must care very deeply about your friend to go to all this trouble." He swung his legs up onto the desk with self-possessed nonchalance, propping one foot atop the other. Penny loafers, Alder noticed, not bothering to disguise a slight smirk of amusement. Without socks, no less. How gauche. Then he noticed that knowing look was back on Kenny's face, and realized what he had been insinuating. He laughed out loud.

"What, you think I'm jealous? Please." He tilted his head wryly. "I do love Aesch, but I'd never interfere with his love life out of wanting him for myself. In this case, I'm doing some light investigative work to protect him. Because, quite frankly, you're suspicious as hell." He said this last bit with every ounce of conviction he had while maintaining his languid smugness.

He had expected maybe touching a nerve with that, but Kenny remained unflappable. In fact, he gave a laugh of his own; a throaty, pleasant chuckle that sent an involuntary shiver down Alder's spine. "Really?" he asked, his dark eyes twinkling with mirth. "Interesting. What do you find so suspicious about me, exactly?" He nestled comfortably in his seat and folded his hands over his chest, as though he was about to listen to some exciting news. He knocked his shoes lightly against each other to a rhythm only he could hear.

"The snakes," Alder said immediately. He wasn't about to let that go, he figured he'd get that out of the way up front. "I mean, come on."

Kenny tilted his head and looked at him slyly. "You don't like snakes?" His voice was a silky purr.

"I'm indifferent towards them, personally. You, on the other hand, seem to be unreasonably infatuated with them. One might even say obsessed." Alder crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat slowly. "And I refuse to believe someone living and working in Gotham isn't aware of the implications of that. Considering how colorful the city's criminals are."

"And I suppose you also find me suspicious because I didn't react to your attempt to sway me earlier?" The shell of Alder's smug confidence cracked a little, his cheeks flaring brightly in surprise; the remark was so casual and unexpected.  "I, w-well, that is, er..." He cursed himself inwardly as he tried to find his footing again.

"Mmhmm." The cunning shine in Kenny's eyes was back. Clunk, clunk went his shoes against each other. "Because it really should have worked, shouldn't it? If I was just another rich, flaky executive type, that is."

Alder opened his mouth, about to form an acerbic response, when Kenny hooked his right shoe against the heel of his left and gently kicked the loafer cleanly off his foot. It thumped to the carpeted floor, unregarded. The other shoe followed suit shortly after. Kenny hadn't broken eye contact the entire time; now he was leaning his face against his hand, his expression vaguely sly and almost seductive, his bare toes slowly flexing up and down to the same unknown rhythm as before.

Alder was uncharacteristically stunned by this bizarre turn, completely apropos of nothing. Well, no---a nasty bolt of embarrassment struck him. There was no way he could know about that, though....could he? His eyes drifted from Kenny's face to his bare feet propped upon the desk, and maybe lingered there a little too long before snapping back to their original position. He gave an incredulous laugh, though it was somewhat strained. "Interesting interrogation technique," he said dryly. "Though I think you may be taking the phrase 'smelling someone out' rather broadly."

"Do they smell?" Kenny replied, his eyes shining with intense amusement. "I like to think I do a pretty good job making sure that they don't. At least not in a way that's offensive. But perhaps you're a better judge than I am, since you're closer." His foot drifted to rest directly in front of him, toes wiggling playfully. Alder flinched away, eyes narrowing, trying to hide his blush behind a look of annoyance and disgust. His second toe is longer than the others. The thought lit up unbidden in Alder's mind. Flame foot.

"What--I--what are you even--" He huffed, eyes flashing with indignance. "Would you be so kind as to get that out of my face?" His uneasiness was becoming more pronounced the longer Kenny's feet were in front of him. He was trying very hard not to inhale, though he had caught the faintest whiff of something: smoky, masculine, rustic. The faux leather of Kenny's shoe.

"It just so happens," Kenny said idly, as though Alder hadn't spoken at all; his feet remained firmly where they were, propped and crossed in front of Alder's flustered, disgruntled face, while Kenny lounged back farther into his chair, arms behind his head, "I'm not unfamiliar with your methods of persuasion. In fact...."

His feet slowly shifted out of Alder's line of sight---Finally, thought Alder with chagrined relief---but the withering glare Alder planned to give him fled from his face almost immediately at what he saw in Kenny's sly, hooded eyes.

"....I must confessssssss to doing something similar."

Kenny's eyes were full of colors; rhythmically pulsing colors that radiated outward from his pupils in a never-ending pattern. They were stunningly hypnotic; Alder realized with mute bewilderment that he had looked into them for a full thirty seconds, mouth slowly becoming slack, before he was able to wrest some kind of control over himself and try to force himself to look away. His mind reeled from resisting the blank, relaxed feeling that had threatened to overtake him. "What....y-you...." he said in a tight voice as he made a Herculean effort to tear his eyes away, and managed to get one eye closed. Alder found that he was still somewhat capable of self-righteous anger at the nerve of this smirking barefoot cretin attempting to hypnotize him of all people, and he weakly held onto it, though it seemed to be rapidly evaporating into a muzzy, docile fog the longer his blue eye looked into Kenny's kaleidoscopic ones. "Unh, you buh-bastard...." "Mmhmm." Kenny's voice was a smooth, playful purr. "I thought you might be a ssssssslippery customer." He seemed to fix him more intensely with his gaze; the colors in his eyes pulsed faster in a dazzling, dizzying display.

Alder tried to protest, but only an unintelligible garble escaped his lips. Both his eyes widened beyond his control to hungrily absorb the profoundly hypnotic undulations before him. The colors, those eyes. Such power he'd never experienced before. He was losing control fast, he had to think of something while he still had the capacity to do so. He found with a gauzy feeling of dismay that his muscles refused to work; he couldn't even stand up, let alone walk out the door. The urge would light up feebly in his head, but his legs were much too comfortable where they were, thank you very much. He desperately tried focusing on something else. His mind reeled again like a fish struggling on a hook; he managed to lower his head, uttering an involuntary sigh, and began to drift his eyes with difficulty to the small snake plant perched at the corner of Kenny's desk.

"Ah ah ah. Pay attention, pleasssse." A gentle, cajoling rebuke. Kenny's foot drifted close, pressing itself against Alder's cheek, and then slid a slow, sensuous trail to rest beneath Alder's chin. It lifted his head back up, toes pointing, guiding Alder's gaze back to Kenny's eyes. Alder was defenseless against the supernaturally lush smoothness of his skin, and the suddenly intense bouquet of scents: shoe leather, cinnamon, coffee, cloves. His head swam. His eyelids drooped but didn't fully close---couldn't. Kenny's fascinating eyes rippled and eddied without end, dominating his vision.

"Better. Good. Now, you're sleepy, I know, and I'll let you sleep in a moment." Kenny's velvet, soothing voice slithered in lazy loops and figure eights in his ears, through his mind. "But first, you're going to listen. And then, you're going to answer me when I want you to. Listen--answer. Very sssssimple. Do you understand?"

Alder sluggishly fought the urge to reply "yes"; he wouldn't give him the satisfaction. It wasn't fair, him being in this position, one that he had rather enjoyed being on the opposite end of on some occasions. This was nothing like what he did though, he thought defensively through the dense fog. This was diabolical. This was insidious. This was.....was.....

Well...maybe it wasn't all that awful, really. Now that Kenny had ensured he look at nothing else, he had to admit that Kenny's eyes were rather....beautiful. And this drowsy, fuzzy feeling coming over him, winking his thoughts away like so many candles. It felt...pleasant, actually, to not have to think.

Kenny tilted his head slightly, arching an eyebrow. "Hmm? Cat got your tongue?" he asked slyly. "Maybe we can do something to loosen it."

The toes holding up Alder's chin slid out with smooth, deliberate slowness, inching upwards. The large oval of Kenny's big toe softly touched the furrow of his mouth, lingered a moment, and gently pushed down on the ridge of his lower lip, parting it slightly. Alder could just barely taste the toe on the tip of his tongue; oh gods was his last coherent though as he shivered with helpless pleasure, the bliss of Kenny's power now gripping him completely.

"I like your friend," Kenny said. The sly playfulness had somewhat left his voice, replaced by something more contemplative. His toes had retreated back down under Alder's chin. "I like him a lot. And I want to like you, too. But it's hard to do that when you seem to have it in for me. Spying on me. Snooping around in my business. Uncharitably belittling my.....interesssssssts." He hissed this last with particular emphasis, a grin spreading across his face, revealing his teeth. "You want to know why I like snakes so much, hmm? That's easy enough."

Through his dreamy trance Alder became vaguely aware that the foot beneath his chin seemed to be.....changing. The toes elongating, fusing together. Kenny slowly crossed his legs, which also seemed to fuse into one shape, growing thicker. Huge, powerful cylindrical shapes looped and curved around the desk and chairs, filling the space around them, shifting furniture gently in their wake. Scales glistened, coils slithered, and Kenny grinned among them. He brought Alder's face closer, the tail beneath his chin cupping his face.

"I trusssssst this clears that up for you?"

"Mmn....mmhmm...." Alder's right eyelid slowly slid closed, then languidly made its way back up to half mast. His voice was slurred, thick with drowsy rapture. "Yes.....it does...." Why, it was more than understandable to Alder; it was positively fine and dandy. Never mind the fact that he was now surrounded on all sides by huge, shifting masses of scaly muscle that were once masquerading as Kenny's legs.

"Good," Kenny chuckled. "I'm glad. I hope this means you won't be so suspicious of me anymore, now that I've been honest with you. And that we can be friends from now on."

As he slowly leaned closer over the desk, he brought Alder's face even closer with his tail; Alder was leaning completely forward now, his arms hanging limp at his sides, lolling like a marionette. Kenny hovered just close enough for his soporific whisper to reach Alder's ears. "Sssssleeeeep," he hissed.

"ALDER! Don't do this, please, I swear if you---"

Aeschylus burst into the room with a combination of righteous anger and hand-wringing nervousness. He had taken five steps before the scene that met his eyes could really register: a huge slithering mass of snake coils, with Kenny and Alder at the center of it. Kenny was blinking at him in wide-eyed bewilderment. Alder seemed to be completely asleep with an enchanted smile on his face (that was so unlike Alder that it gave Aeschylus particular pause), precariously supported by what could only be Kenny's tail; his head slowly slid to meet the desk with a dull thunk, but he did not awaken.

"Oh!" Kenny's face lit up cheerfully. "Hello, you! Come on in, I was just finishing up!"

"Uh.....huh." Aeschylus looked from Kenny to Alder, to the lot of Kenny's coils enveloping the room, and then drifted back to Kenny again. He awkwardly cleared his throat, adjusting his collar and tie. "Ahem, I see. Alder, uh.....is he....?"

"Oh, he's fine. We just chatted, he admired my feet for a bit, and now he's having himself a little lie-down." Kenny's tail stroked Alder's blonde hair gently. "I did intend for him to be more comfortable than this, but---" Kenny trained his dark, cunning eyes on Aeschylus with a seductive smirk. "---I suppose he can wait his turn for now."

"Ah....aha. Right." Aeschylus watched as Kenny unfurled himself from behind his desk and began to come toward him; he found his languid slithering movements rather mesmerizing. He realized mutely that he had been so busy watching Kenny himself that he neglected to pay attention to what his tail was doing; presently it was making a slow ascent up his legs, wrapping him in the velvety scales.

Hang on....Aeschylus frowned suddenly. "Did you say he was admiring your feet?" he asked incredulously.

The tail paused mid-loop around his waist at this. Kenny smiled innocently. "Just having fun with him on my part, really," he purred slyly. He glided around to Aeschylus's side, leaning close to his ear. "Although, he didn't seem to mind...."

Aeschylus snorted as Kenny drifted away behind him and the tail continued its path around his body, squeezing him gently at regular intervals. The image of steely-eyed smug Alder with someone else's feet in his face was too outlandish to believe. But then again, he'd found himself believing a lot of outlandish things lately. Not the least of which was how much he enjoyed being squeezed by a certain handsome naga's coils...

[theoreticslut]

The Truth that you Deny // Part 1

pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley

word count: 2,644

warnings: none, fluff

A/N: apologies that this is a day late! I wasn’t feeling great yesterday, but i’m posting it now so I hope you all like it! also, i don’t have a lot of followers yet, but if you like my wrting and/or just this imagine maybe I could start a taglist?? let me know what you think!

“I don’t know what to do anymore, steph. I don’t understand this at all.” You pout, sighing as you lean back in your chair.

You’d been studying for hours now, which is the last thing you wanted to do on a Saturday, and the only thing you’ve managed to do is waste time and get maybe one or two questions/paragraphs done on a number of assignments. You had yet to actually complete anything.

Stephanie looks at you frowning, more than just a little bit annoyed with you.

“Maybe it’d help if you didn’t drift off thinking about your little crush every five minutes.”

“Who?” You ask, having not been paying attention.

“You’re seriously going to play dumb right now? We both know who you’re constantly thinking about.”

“I honestly don’t.”

“Oh come on, y/n. You so totally have a crush on the twins!”

“I do not. Why would you even think that?” You scoff. You, Stephanie, Katie, Lee, and the twins have been friends since first year and you had never once mentioned having a crush on either of them. Sure you might’ve been quiet and distracted around them sometimes, but you get stressed about school so easily. You spend most of the time worrying about grades and whether you know the material. In fact, while the twins were amazing friends, their pranks often drove you insane.

“Why would I think that? Y/n, have you seen the way you look at them? Do you even realize what you say to them?”

“What do you mean? I don’t say anything different to them than I do you.”

“Uh, yeah. You do. You are way nicer to them then you are me or katie or Lee. Remember when gryffindor won the last quidditch game and you couldn’t tell Fred and George enough how well they did?”

“Well they did. I was just saying the truth. It was a really good game.” You defend, not liking how steph seems to be grilling you for a yes.

“Okay, well then how about when either of them show up you’re suddenly ten times happier then you were beforehand?” She looks at you smugly like she knows she’s correct.

“Afternoon, ladies.” Fred greets as both him and George suddenly appear and sit down at the table you and Steph were studying at.

“Hey guys,” you smile catching the knowing look Steph throws your way. You roll your eyes at her and turn your attention to the twins. She can believe whatever she pleases, but it still doesn’t make it true.

“Are you girls studying?” George asks, a hint of disgust in his tone.

“Trying to. I’m not having much luck.” You sigh, throwing a playful glare at your best friend which doesn’t go unnoticed by any of them.

“Well then how about you put it away and come play a game of quidditch with us?” Fred asks, hope glowing on his face.

You sigh as frown takes hold of your face. If only you had gotten all this done already, or even better, didn’t have it to begin with.

“I’d love too, but I really need to get all of this done. I can’t put it off any longer.”

Both twins join as you pout. You know that they know that you’d absolutely love to play. While you hadn’t made the team (because you never tried out), you loved playing and were even really good at it.

You had surprised the twins over summer break two years ago when you visited the burrow for a week. Obviously since all the Weasley’s love playing quidditch and it’s almost a daily occurrence, it was bound to happen that they’d play a game while you were there. However, they really needed another player so you joined in and gave them all a run for their money (if only you had placed bets beforehand). Since then, the twins love asking you to play because you’re actually a bit of competition to them.

“Not even one game?” George asks, leaning towards you ever so slightly to try to catch your eye.

“Guys, I...no.” You sigh, frustrated that the professors gave you this much homework to begin with.

“Honestly, I’d love to play. You both know that, but I really need to get this done. Maybe tomorrow?” You ask.

“How about you put this up for awhile, come and play a game of quidditch with us, and then you finish this tomorrow?” Fred asks, looking to persuade you.

“You’re too persuasive for your own good, Weasley. As much as I’d love to play, I really ought to get this done or else I’m just going to be worrying about it tomorrow.”

“What if we study with you?” George asks, catching all of your attention.

“You two studying? That’s a really good one, George.” Stephanie replies, saying exactly what you were thinking.

“I’m serious,” he chuckles. “Believe it or not.”

“If we were to study with you later tonight and tomorrow, would you come and play a game with us?” He asks, giving his best impression of a sad puppy dog.

“George, I can’t. I’m already so behind and I want to make sure that I don’t fail. We do have the O.W.L.s this year you kn-“

“Pleeeeeease.” Both the twins beg, cutting you off.

“No, I-“

“Pleeeeeease.”

“It’s just one game, I promise.” George pouts.

You look over at Steph who’s only smirking and shaking her head at you, knowing you can’t say no. You hate that you can tell what’s she’s thinking with just that expression; ‘this is your problem, sweetie. Your the one that likes them.’

You roll your eyes at her again, mentally thanking her for all the help and give in.

“Fine! Fine. I’ll play one game.” you agree.

“Yes!” The twins shout simultaneously, high-fiving across the table.

“But you both better keep your word and study with me or else I won’t play with you again.” you threaten, even though it sounds empty even to you.

“Of course we will, gorgeous. We wouldn’t want our little lion cub upset.” Fred smirked, winking at you and George as you groan at their nickname for you.

Another lovely thing that’s come out of your few visits to the burrow. After another one of your empty threats, George laughed and made the point that even though you try to come off strong and threatening, you often fall short and sound like a child who just doesn’t quite have the bite to back up the bark. And since you’re all in gryffindor together, they made the connection to a lion cub.

Since then, it’s been expanded upon given different circumstances. Like when you were standing up for Ron one time, it changed to mumma lion. Then another time when you were confronting a girl that had been spreading rumors about one of your other friends, the twins joked about how you had become a lioness. So while it’s not your favourite nickname, it isn’t the worst one that you could’ve gotten and it’s only ever used by Fred, George and occasionally their family.

“You better watch it, Freddie.” You warned as you started packing up your books.

~.~

“And that’s another point for Y/n’s team!”

“Bloody hell, y/n. Give us a chance would you.” Fred nearly begs, rubbing his side where you may have just hit a bludger into him.

“You guys begged me to play and you both know that I don’t play nice.” You retort, not feeling any remorse.

You’d deny it if someone pointed it out, but the truth is you are extremely competitive, no matter the situation as long as it interests you. Quidditch? Bloody hell, you’d think your life depended on you winning. Proving to Lee that you could out drink him? You better have a full bottle of replenishing potion because you are going to have one of the worst hangovers of your life. Basically, if you were presented any sort of challenge, you tackled it head-on.

“He’s just upset that he’s losing. You know how he is.” George says, winking at you as his brother grumbles to himself.

“Want to play once more and whoever gets the point wins? I’m getting awfully tired.”

“Sounds good to me.” George nods.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Fred grumbled as he and George fly back to their positions.

~.~

“Oh bloody hell” you grumble as you wake up and stretch. You don’t often play quidditch, therefore you’re a little out of shape and currently very sore.

That doesn’t even take into account that you stayed up much later than you should have last night trying to get something done.

You groan as you roll over to look at the clock to find it to be 8 AM. You’d certainly love to sleep in a bit more, but if you didn’t get a move on you’d miss breakfast and that’s the last thing you need to do if you were going to be studying with Fred and George today. You loved them, but boy could they get in your nerves sometimes. You didn’t need to be hungry on top of it.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you change into a pair of leggings and an oversized black sweater that tends to hang off one shoulder. You pull on your favourite pair of black heeled boots and move onto brushing your hair and apply the minimal makeup you’re comfortable wearing.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. You look like your ready to spend the day studying with Fred and George.” Steph teased as you sit down next to her.

“Let me eat first, and hopefully get a cup of coffee. Then you can taunt me all you want.” You say, rubbing at your eyes as you’re not quite awake yet.

“Take my fun away.” She pouts, picking up a bite of pancake with her fork.

“But seriously, how are you feeling about today? You get to spend ALL the quality time with your boys as you like.”

She smiles, staring at you to see your reaction.

“I don’t like them like you’re implying, Stephanie. How many times do I have to tell you?” You huff, taking a sip of your much needed cup of coffee.

“Yeah-huh. You keep telling yourself that. Eventually you’ll believe it.”

“Maybe eventually you’ll get the hint.” You grumble, moodily stabbing a piece of pancake yourself.

“Someone seems to be in a mood this morning.” Fred states as he and George sit down across from you two.

You send a glare over at him as you continue eating your breakfast.

“Definitely. What have we missed already this morning?” George asks, looking from you to Stephanie as he gets himself a cup of coffee.

“Someone is denying that she has feelings for a couple certain people when it’s glaringly obvious.” Stephanie states.

“Ooh, who does our little lion cub have a crush on? Anyone we know?” Fred asks, not missing the opportunity to try and tease you.

“Steph just needs to learn how to take no as an answer. I’ve already told her that I do not, in fact, have feelings for them, but she can’t seem to accept that.”

“Again, who are they?” Fred asks.

“Don’t worry about it because I don’t like them. And even if I did I’m positive neither of them would see me in the same way so it really doesn’t matter whatever way you try to look at it.” You rant, stabbing your fork into some scrambled eggs.

You notice Fred and George share a look that can only be translated to ‘well she isn’t having a good morning. Yikes.’ You huff as you continue eating in silence, feeling all three of them look at you.

~.~

“Y/n, what does this even mean?” Fred asks exasperatedly.

“What does what mean, Freddie?” You sigh, looking up from your own parchment where you are attempting to write a paper for Potions.

“I don’t know. I can’t make sense of any of it anymore.” He pouts.

“Well then I don’t know how to help you.” You say, watching as he pouts in frustration.

“What about you, Georgie? How is everything going?” You ask, looking over to find George staring down at his parchment.

“Uh, decent?” He asks, seeming awfully confused.

“You two are some of the worst study partners around. How have you made it this far, honestly?” You chuckle, leaning back in your chair.

“Our charm and wit.” George jokingly says, winking at you which only causes you to laugh a bit more.

“Why don’t we take a break for awhile? We’ve been working at this for nearly two hours now.” Fred sighs.

You look over at him and give him a small smile. You honestly can’t believe that both of them came along with you and haven’t done much complaining until now. Neither of these boys liked their homework much, in fact it was rare to find them ever working on it.

“You two can if you’d like. I’m nearly done with this paper and if I stop now I’ll forget what I was doing.”

“Then finish the paper and then we’ll all take a break.” He smiles.

I shake my head as I smile back at him and continue working on my potions paper. I just need another paragraph or two to finish it off and then I’m early done with all of my work.

“There, done.” I say as I set my quill down. I lean back to find both of the twins staring at me.

“What?”

“Who were you and Stephanie talking about over breakfast?” Fred asks, a smile on his lips yet he sounds fairly serious, not trying to joke around at all.

“Back to this again?” You sigh, tossing your head back in annoyance. “It doesn’t matter, Freddie. Let it go.”

“C’mon y/n, we’re just curious. Maybe we could help you find out if they like you back.” George offers.

“Yeah, you’re one of our best friends, y/n and you deserve to be with someone that makes you happy.” Freddie says, looking directly at you.

“Besides, you haven’t ever been with anyone at all have you? Like not even just dating?” He adds on.

“No, and I don’t really care to. I’ve got too many other things on my mind.” You say, still ignoring the main question at hand here.

“You have no interest at all? Really?” Fred asks knowing otherwise. You know both of them have heard you talk about guys before with the other girls and you all know that you’ve said not once, but multiple times, that you can’t wait to have a boyfriend to cuddle with and to just love.

“Can’t we just drop it? I really don’t want to talk about it. Steph’s made it into a bigger deal than it needs to be.”

You look at George for some sort of support. You know he and his brother are very much alike, but he’s always been a bit

more considerate when it comes to things people don’t feel like sharing.

“If it’s not a big deal, then why don’t you just tell us? No big deal, no harm in telling right?” George asks, doing the complete opposite of what you were hoping.

“I don’t want to talk about it because if I do I’m afraid...well, I’m afraid it’ll make everything more complicated that what I want to deal with.” You truthfully state.

Both twins watch you as you go silent again, not meeting either of their gazes. If they had known it was this difficult for you to acknowledge, then they wouldn’t have pushed it so much, but here you all were; past that line that pushes your relationship with each other into uncharted territory. You guys don’t share your emotions with each other like this, so now that you have, where do you all go from here?

[whitefawnn]

blood letting (part 7)

c!wilbur soot x reader

warnings: manipulation, violence, fighting, panic attacks, trauma, mentions of character death

masterlist of blood letting

note: read the warnings

His sword is a comfortable weight in his scarred hand, the hilt wrapped in leather, his grip tight. The metal weapon felt like a return to himself, its shimmering a sinister promise to hurt those who had wronged him. His mouth watered as he stared at the light blue sword, imagining it as a dark purple. He missed Nightmare but for now this must suffice. Dream quickly went back to sharpening the blade, meticulously making sure it would be perfect to slice through his enemies just as it had been crafted to, to right what had been wronged.

He had been waiting for Wilbur to return without y/n, but something in him knew Wilbur wasn’t coming back. He knew from the start. Men like Wilbur could be so fickle with someone like y/n whispering in their ear. Y/n could be so persuasive, so persistent, he didn’t know if he could bring himself to fault the man for folding. He knew it would end like this though, them on opposing sides. He wasn’t connected to Wilbur anymore, ties severed after he walked out of that prison, no matter what Wilbur had convinced himself of he could care less about the man.

He was almost done preparing his gear, not bothering to even start Wilbur’s even when he was still here. He only had to go to the nether to collect netherite before he could begin his onslaught. The future tasted sweet, a sick promise of blood to finally be in the air again. Dream laid down the sword on the cracking anvil with a smirk. He turned to look at the marked map behind him, x’s on houses, arrows pointing to weaknesses and targets. A mosaic of to-be pain all in one place.

He had been weighing whether he would kill y/n or not. A big question mark scribbled over where their house sat. He wondered if they could change, be fixed if you will. I guess the decision could be made later, when they weren’t in the place to deny such mercy from Dream. When his sword was slowly drawing blood from their neck. Guess he would be just like Wilbur in that regard.

——————

“I’ll come with you, I will, please just-“ I focused on the panicked voice that trailed from behind me as I slowly came to. I was sitting on a hard surface, my back against someone whose chest was hastily rising and falling. Their breaths were forced and ragged. “Sam, please they need help-“ The voice called out and was cut off as I slowly cracked my eyes open to be met with the night sky and the looming prison. The building first insisting fear then a strange sense of home. I was back in the dsmp, no longer imprisoned in a gloomy mansion, yet I was still with Wilbur. Why did that make me so scared?

“Wilbur, I should kill you right now. Do you not understand what you did? What mercy I’m even giving you right now by letting you fucking speak?” I shook my head, sitting up straight against the person behind me. I desperately wanted to defuse the argument but didn’t feel like I had the words or the strength. My brain a mess of feelings and fog. Sam quickly turned to look at me with wide eyes once he noticed my subtle movements. His gaze felt like sunlight for a brief moment, an escape from all that has gone horribly wrong. He granted me a soft smile that I only knew existed by the crinkle of his eyes that weren’t covered by his intimidating mask.

“hey, y/n” he spoke with a lighter tone more indicative of Sam not the Warden he was being towards Wilbur. I reached for him with an open hand merely wanting to hug my close friend. To give up for just a second. He quickly came up to my side helping me slide off the large horse I had been seated on. I caught a glimpse of Wilbur’s nervous smile, but quickly pressed myself into Sam’s body. Wilbur could wait, he could wait for just a bit.

I needed a separation from everything. Wilbur’s face feeling as damning as seeing Dream himself sat behind me. A chill ran over my body, Dream’s hands pushing me to the floor all over again. My arm hitting the ground. Sam didn’t hesitate to wrap himself around me once I was within reach, warmth engulfing my sleep-riddled body. I winced at the pain he caused by pressing on my injured arm but could care less. “Hi, bear.” he mumbled into my hair, a familiar nickname that made me feel even more relaxed. Warmth bloomed in my heart, a brief moment of peace.

“Sam,” I sighed out, allowing myself to fully melt into him knowing he would support my weight, knowing he wouldn’t let me go as he never had before. I wanted to disappear, to implode, my life felt on fire. A burning house with no exits left. I tried to steady myself against him. The feeling was also a wash of familiarity, smelled just like gunpowder, felt just like when the man behind me had died.

“Do you wanna go home?” he asked me, slightly pulling back from our embrace so he could study my expression. It was such a simple question, but yet I felt my eyes water. He seemed to falter the more he looked at me, his own eyes jumping across my face. I probably looked like shit.

“mmmhm,” I whimpered, stuffing my face back into his chest as hot tears began to run down my cheeks. Everything was wrong and it felt like it was my fault. I could feel Wilbur’s eyes burning into my back and it only made me feel worse. I was not only responsible for my own safety, I was responsible for everyone’s. I was now heaving, sobbing into Sam’s chest as he pet my hair and let me crumble.

“Just breathe, bear. It’s okay, it’s all gonna be okay.” he whispered into my hair. I quickly shook my head against him, my anxiety a vice. “I know, I know, let’s get you home okay.” He took the liberty of picking me up, cradling me in his arms “Wilbur, you follow behind or god fucking help you.” Wilbur didn’t respond but I heard the clicking of hooves follow behind us.

————————-

Dread built in his stomach as he followed closely behind Sam and y/n. He selfishly couldn’t bring himself to focus his full attention on the exhausted body being cradled by Sam. Anxiety pooled on his skin as he slowly trailed behind the pair to y/n’s home. The path was familiar, he need not put too much effort into following as his worries consumed him.

“Wilbur, come hold the door open.” He was quick to tie up the horse and pry open the door. The clear closeness between Y/n and Sam shocked him. The nickname ran through his head, bear, a staple of the months he had missed. Sam hadn’t even been a name he had known, not in any great clarity at least when he had passed. The relationship added context to the fact that y/n had thought they would be able to ebb the consequence of his mistakes with the Warden himself. He hadn’t believed this, leaving y/n to fight with Dream alone on a matter he knew they wouldn’t be able to change. To be left a bruised mess on the floor. To be told by Dream to use them further, y/n a mere puppet to the man, and now a new consequence of his own actions arose, he must talk to Sam alone.

“Wilbur.” Sam’s voice was gruff and lower than the one he had used with y/n.

“Sam, are they-“ he was promptly cut off. Wilbur studied Sam’s hard expression, their eyes locked.

“They are asleep in their bedroom” The tension between the two was palpable, but the reason seemed to have strayed off. Countless things went through Wilbur’s head as he stared the Warden down. “Do you understand what you did, Wilbur? I should have already killed you, but y/n-“ he paused, his hand falling from its place on the hilt of his sword to be run through his hair. Sam shut his eyes tight, trusting that Wilbur wouldn’t foolishly run.

“You mean too much to them.” A breath got caught in Wilbur’s throat “I probably understand that more than you. After you died, Wilbur, they were in bad shape, really fucking bad shape.” Wilbur sharply inhaled, his lungs full of needles. He didn’t need to hear this or maybe he just didn’t want to. “They wouldn’t leave this fucking house, Wilbur, and you came back and, fuck, I think you made them worse all over again.” Sam looked up at Wilbur.

“You were an impossibility to them, they were finally fucking moving on.” Sam got to his feet “You and fucking Dream just hurt them over and over.” His gaze was burning right through him, he immediately relented, stepping back. Wilbur’s shoulders hunched as he let himself fall back against the now shut door. “and they still love you.”

“Sam,” he quickly held up his hand. Wilbur taking the hint that he wasn’t done. He watched as Sam took a deep breath before averting his eyes to the kitchen.

“So much happened that y/n isn’t telling you things that Dream did to everyone in your absence. Wilbur, he beat Tommy to death and he-“ Sam looked back at Wilbur’s crumpled form. Wilbur needed to understand. “You let out a monster, Wilbur. A monster that hurt the person in that room more than you can imagine.” A silence drew out between them, a silence that was not filled by voices but their own shared labored breathing. Both men drawn tight, two strings about to snap. “Stay here with them. Don’t you fucking think about leaving.” Wilbur gave Sam a nod. He wasn’t going to leave them, he wouldn’t think twice about that even if Sam wasn’t threatening his life.

Wilbur trailed to y/n’s bedroom, somewhere they had once shared. The room had changed drastically since then, new sheets and new furniture. He knew it was because of him, he couldn’t imagine living in that room if their roles had been switched, a ghost around every corner. Sheets once green were now a ruby red. Y/n was sleeping now, their face a reflection of calm water not the panic it had been earlier. The more he studied their face the more Wilbur paled. He noticed scars he hadn’t before, how the bruise had only gotten worse. Time apart and together alike leaving them with more wounds. He fell into a restless sleep beside them.

[thecodekeeper]

EDWARD TEAGUE + VOICE

ACCENT: “country” / “backwoods” / “sailor” / “upper class” / “city slicker” / foreign speaker / refined

ELOQUENCE: educated / self-taught / uneducated / doesn’t use conjunctions / shortens words / omits entire words on occasion / mixes up words / just makes up their own words / archaic english / dependent on mood or setting / doesn’t use contractions

TONE: loud / soft / room volume / high pitched / low pitched / seductive / velvety / speech impediment / abrasive / gruff / shrill / booming / matter-of-fact / toneless / husky / gravelly / breathy / nasal / barking / chatty / condescending / musical / suave / world-weary / brash / authoritative

HABITS: refers to self in third person / incorporates different languages/terms/sayings / uses gender-specific terms / adapts to audience / changes pitch around animals or children / shifts tone when lying / gives others nicknames / uses terms of respect towards others

OTHER BITS:  Teague grew up a pirate, but he’s also an aristocratic pirate. He learned to speak by observing his mother, Anne, Bartholomew, and the servants who worked on their manor. Anne has the most refined way of speaking but still used the harsh sailor slang of pirates, As a result, Teague comes off as well-educated but not formally educated. He’s well-spoken for a pirate but would never pass in a true upper-class setting. 

Teague is intelligent but not eloquent. He’s not great with words and will often try to get his point across with as few words as possible. Furthermore, his temper can often have him say things that are either misconstrued or best left unsaid. To put it bluntly, most people will never align themselves with him because of how persuasive his words were. 

Teague has one of those voices which is on the lower end but rarely needs to be raised. His presence is often so commanding that he never has to speak loudly in order to grab the attention of a room. Even when angry he rarely raises his voice. As said before, he has a minimalist approach to speaking. He’s matter-of-fact which sometimes leads people to believe he’s inaccessible and unwilling to talk. Teague is also very blunt. His candid nature can make him painful to talk to as he rarely holds back. I italicized “brash” because as a young man he rarely had a filter...or perhaps a better way of putting it is he had a filter and simply chose to ignore it. Age has made him a bit wiser and he’s more likely to hold his tongue (although he’s still a dick).

Teague is a well-traveled individual and will appropriately incorporate different languages/terms/sayings. Unfortunately, he’s often so quiet that initial impressions don’t always leave you with the sense that he’s truly appreciated his travels by absorbing the different languages. 

Despite his gruff demeanor, his speech will often change when speaking to those he’s close to. He speaks less formally and takes on a softer tone. He also converses with a warmth that’s rarely present when speaking with acquaintances. This is most evident when he addresses animals or close family.

VOICE CLAIM REFERENCE: Keith Richards all day boi 

tagged: @lighthouseborn  tagging: @piraticalwit @twistedwit @hopefaded (maria) @ahbutimavillain @yohoitsalex (gibbs) @dxdger​ ​

[softtransbf]

Mister Nice Guy, part 1

Summary: You’re new to the BAU and get along well with everyone, almost. You can’t figure out why the infuriatingly handsome Dr. Spencer Reid seems to hate you so much.

Word Count: 2222

Reader: Trans man, he/him pronouns, no physical description.

Warnings: Alcohol, brief description of a case and therefore murder. Nothing graphic.

(Part two)

~~~~~~~~~~

It was your first day at the BAU, and you were so excited. It took all of your willpower not to skip from the elevator to your new boss' office. You definitely caught a sideways glance from an incredibly handsome man with very expressive eyebrows, but you didn't let it concern you; you'd worked too damn hard for too damn long to let anyone bring you down today. You got to the door and knocked sharply. 

"Agent L/N, please, come in," came a voice from inside the room. You took a deep breath and walked through the door.

You'd heard stories about Aaron Hotchner and the BAU- everyone had. Most people only heard the good parts- the heroic tales, the happy endings. But you liked to be prepared, to know the truth of what you were going after, so you'd also paid attention to the quieter whispers. The imposing boss who never smiles, the weird and maybe-pseudo-sexual relationship between the exuberant tech analyst and one of the profilers, the betting pool on whether or not the two female profilers were secretly gay for each other, true crime writer extraordinaire and profiling legend David Rossi leaving retirement to mostly be snarky, and the young agent with multiple doctorates who is smarter than seems humanly possible. You would never admit it, but you were particularly eager to meet the genius. He guest lectured once in your friend's linguistics class your last semester before graduating, and xe wouldn't shut up about him for an entire week. When you told xem that your transfer was approved, xe begged for "a full rundown on what he's like up close and personal" after your first case. But first, you needed to meet with SSA Hotchner.

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. 

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." You thanked your lucky star that your voice didn't shake.

"It's a pleasure to have you. I heard nothing but the best about you from your previous supervisor. Officially, all the paperwork has gone through for your transfer, but I would like to ask a couple of questions before we get started." 

"Of course, sir. What would you like to know?" One corner of his mouth ticked up slightly for a fraction of a second, and you counted that as a major victory.

"First and foremost, why are you interested in the BAU?" You relaxed slightly; you'd prepared for this question.

"Human behavior is nothing short of fascinating. Everyone is shaped by a unique set of experiences, but at the end of the day, we all behave in documented patterns. Everything matters, because it shapes who we are, but also nothing does, because we all end up in one of a finite number of 'shapes', so to speak. No one is the same, but we all exhibit set behavioral patterns. No matter what someone's gone through, at the end of the day, they are still understandable and predictable. I find that absolutely fascinating, and the work that the BAU does with that is incredible. I want to be a part of it, and I have the skill and drive to do so. After all, the BAU essentially wrote the handbook for Crisis Negotiation."

"That is a very interesting perspective, agent." His face was neutral, but you detected approval in his tone. "I only had one other matter to bring up- I see two different first names in your paperwork, and two of your references refer to you with different pronouns. Which name do you prefer, and what are your pronouns?"

You were floored; you'd never had a supervisor so casually look past paperwork outing you. "Y/N, sir, and he/him/his."

"Wonderful. Well, Y/N, welcome to the BAU. Let's go meet the team, shall we?" You nodded and followed him out his door into the meeting room, where the rest of the team was assembled.

"Everyone, this is Special Agent Y/N L/N. He has just transferred from Crisis Negotiation."

"Oh! New guy! Hi hi hi! I'm Penelope Garcia, just call me Penelope, and I do all the tech-y, research-y stuff." She made her way across the room to you as she spoke, talking with her hands.

"Pleasure to meet you, Penelope! I love the look you're rocking, by the way. Those shoes in particular are magnificent." You knew you were being the gay sterotype that you'd spent your career trying to avoid, but shoes that good could not go uncomplimented.

"Oh my goodness, thank you!" she said to you before stage-whispering to the rest of the team, "I like him! Let's keep him." The team laughed, and you blushed. It seemed that Hotchner had wordlessly passed on the duties of making the introductions to her, because she pointed to the agent closest to her, handsome-guy-with-the-eyebrows from earlier, and continued on. 

"Okay, so, this is Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, but we all call her JJ, David Rossi, and Dr Spencer Reid." They all nodded, smiled, and/or waved slightly when they were introduced, with the exception of Dr Reid, who looked almost like he was looking at a puzzle. You chalked the feeling in your gut it gave you to first-day nerves.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, and I look forward to getting to know you all better as time goes on." You were addressing everyone, but something about the way Dr. Reid was staring at you made it difficult to look away from him for too long.

"Wonderful! Now, as much as I wish we could all chit-chat and get to know Y/N better, we do have a case. Last night, a body was found in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park."

The case was interesting, twin injustice collectors, one more mission oriented, the other interested almost entirely on experimenting with different forms of torture on the victims. The former, over the weeks between kills, had started dating one of the local detectives, neither of them knowing of the other's involvement in the case. You were there when that information came to light at the killer's arrest, and you were able to diffuse the situation, ensuring that no one was harmed.

On the flight back, Prentiss insisted on the whole team going out for drinks to welcome you to the team. Hotchner declined, because he needed to get back to Jack, and Rossi said he had "plans with Tony Bennett", but everyone else agreed, mostly enthusiastically. It took significant persuasion from JJ to get Reid to agree to go out with you all. For the whole case, he was abrupt and distant with you, despite your best efforts. You knew it was silly, but you really wanted your coworkers to like you, so you decided you were going to do your absolute best to get him to like you by the end of the night.

-

"Hey, doc, first round's on me. What'll it be?" You'd noticed during the case that he shrugged off all of your attempts to start a conversation, but you figured that even he wouldn't ignore you under these circumstances.

"Uh, white wine would be great, thanks."

"White wine? At a dive bar? Does this bar even have white wine?" You'd intended to be charming, but, seriously, white wine? Who was this guy?

He opened his mouth, clearly indignant, but he was interrupted by Morgan chuckling from behind you both.

"That's why we go to this dump, newbie. It's the only bar in the area that serves white wine, which is all Pretty Boy here drinks." He winked at you and playfully elbowed Reid in the ribs.

You threw your hands up in mock surrender and chuckled. "Okay, okay, white wine for the good doctor it is. What's your poison? I'm sure word's gotten around that the first round is on me."

"You know, I might have heard something about that, and I most definitely wouldn't say no to a dirty martini." He winked at you, and your chuckle turned into full-on laughter.

You got the bartender's attention and ordered their drinks and a Jack and Coke for yourself. "It's a damn shame you're straight, Derek. Truly a crime against queer men everywhere, although I'm not so proud I can't admit that I'm a bit glad you're not competition."

"Wait wait wait, how do you know I don't like a little meat on the side?"

"So, sidestepping the fact that not all men have penises and some women do, you are so hetero that it's almost painful. Look around; men of all shapes and sizes outnumber women 2 to 1 at least. But you've spent the whole night making eyes at those women over there." You pointed to a table on the other side of the room. "Plus, I may or may not have received a very detailed string of texts from Penelope that essentially amounted to a crash course on all of y'all. I get a feeling that she might like me a little bit."

"My bad on the meat comment- I'll definitely fix that. And speaking of Penelope being a font of information, she's been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about you. What's your big secret, new guy?"

You raised an eyebrow and sipped your drink. "All you need to know is that Hotch, who strikes me as even more protective of this team than he lets on, which is really saying something, knows, and he cares less than any brass I've ever met. And I know for a fact that if Penelope thought it was concerning, she'd have at least voiced some suspicions about me, if not told you outright. I'm not ashamed of it, it's just none of y'alls business. Anyway, the blonde from the table you were eyeing earlier is coming over to see if we've been flirting this whole time so she knows whether to flirt with you or gush about how she's always wanted a Gay Best Friend oh my god. If I'm still here, it'll be both, and I'm allergic to that particular brand of cishet nonsense. Have fun, good-lookin'." You chuckled and patted him on the shoulder as you left, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Reid roll his eyes, down his drink, and walk in the other direction. What is his deal? Whatever. I'm not about to let him wet blanket all over tonight. You took out your phone and sent out a couple of quick texts.

[To: Penelope]: Thank you for not outing me. It means the world to me. Let's get brunch sometime?

[To: Nerd <3]: you sure Reid seemed pleasant when he lectured? that has Not been my experience with him so far. you were right about him being Cute cute, though, damn. a Gay could get lost in those big brown eyes, and in different circumstances I'd climb him like a tree. shame he's Like That lmao

Looking up from your phone, you saw Emily and JJ nearby, so you went over to join them. 

"Oh em gee Y/N you're gay? I had, like, no idea! We should, like, totally get brunch and then go shopping! This is gonna be so much fun; I've always wanted a gay best friend!" You rolled your eyes and laughed at Emily's terrible Valley Girl accent. "Unfortunately, I did not spend my time in the closet learning anything about clothes. I only dress halfway decently for work because my friend dragged me to the mall and updated my wardrobe when I applied for this position. It's all xir doing."

"Well, xe has excellent taste." You mentally filed away JJ's effortless use of neopronouns.

"I'll be sure to let xem know! I'm so down for brunch, though." You checked your phone. "Looks like Garcia is too!"

"Damn, you work fast. You'll fit right in here," Emily laughed.

"Honestly, I'm a little bit blown away by how awesome and welcoming you all are. Well, mostly. Is Spencer like this with every new person, or did I somehow do something to offend him?" Emily and JJ shared a look you couldn't quite read before JJ answered.

"Spencer…" she hesitated, "He's going through something right now. I'm sure he'll figure it out soon, and things will smooth out." 

So you waited. Weeks passed, and you fit in well with the team. You ended up getting close to Derek and Penelope in particular, and you kept trying to make nice with Spencer. Weeks of cold shoulder and as few words as possible to you while being his normal, verbose self with everyone else. So, three weeks into your new job, on a night out with Derek and Penelope you made a decision.

"Look. It's been weeks, and the guy still won't say more than 5 words to me. I'm done trying to… I don't know what I was even trying to do," you slurred, you’d probably had one drink too many. "Make a friend, maybe? I don't even know. But I'm done. He wants to give taciturn bordering on rude? Then that's what he'll receive. Let's see how Pretty Boy likes a taste of his own medicine. No more Mister Nice Guy." You wouldn't remember the look they shared until much later.

And so, your silent war with Spencer truly began.