#bashing my head against a wall about it i need the rest of this week’s episodes stattttt

[strawberrykidneystone]

bet on me

summary: vi was in a celebratory mood and you were grateful for her win earning you a nice sum

a/n: cait i can't believe you rebounded with a ginger /j

tags: making out, alcohol, pit fighter!vi, fingering, spit (like a lot), pussy eating, cursing, finger sucking, locker room sex

ao3 version

vi had just won another one of her fights, she’s been on an intense winning streak for a few weeks.

and she was in the mood to celebrate.

normally she would get piss drunk with loris, but a pretty little thing had caught her eye while she was in the arena today. she had certain tensions that loris just couldn’t help her with.

you were already perched at the bar with a drink in your hand after vi won her latest fight. you knew that she would find you after the fight, her eyes flickering up to you every time she had a chance to breathe and every time she KOed an opponent. you bet on her on a whim, it was your first time coming to this hole in the wall and you chose her simply because you liked her name. you’d won a lot because a lot of suckers here hated rooting for a woman, but that just meant more coin for you.

vi sauntered over with her jacket over her shoulders, pulling out the chair next to you and taking a seat, the bartender passing her “the usual” on the house since she was the big winner, the big boss earning a large part of the pool from her winning. she gulped down the whole thing in one drink and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, turning her focus to you. you could feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of your skull, but you refused to turn your head. you held back a smirk in your lips as you saw her scoff out of the corner of your eye, slinging her arm around the back of her chair.

“come here often?”

you snorted into your drink and finally turned your head towards her, “really? that’s the best line you’ve got?”

she shrugged and smirked, “you’d be surprised how often it works?”

“oh so you do this often?” you teased, covering up your smile with your cup as you took a sip.

“only for the pretty girls,” she mused, an arrogant aura around her that you usually would’ve found annoying, but it worked with her whole shtick. plus she had the moved to back up her cocky attitude, so you let it slide.

“oh yeah? how about we see if that makeup is as tough as you?” you quipped, downing the rest of your drink and leaning in close to her.

she looked as though she were in a daze, her eyes locked in on your lips. snapping out of her trance as if she finally processed what you said, she slammed a few coins on the counter and grabbed your wrist, dragging you back to the women’s locker room at the back of the arena.

with the door quickly closing behind you, she caged you against the wall between her arms and roughly pressed her lips against yours, tasting the alcohol that was on her lips only a few moments ago. your arms wrapped tightly around her neck, gripping the back collar of her leather jacket. she kissed you with as much intensity, if not more, that she had in the arena with the same hands that were bashing in skulls a few minutes earlier were now desperately grabbing at your waist. you whined into her mouth as she shoved her thigh in between your legs, gripping your hips and moving your heat against her thigh that was made of pure muscle. vi groaned and pulled her head back, "fuck baby, you're so wet you're leakin' on my jeans."

"shut up," you strained out through a moan and whimpered when she pulled her thigh away. your hands trailed down her shoulder, pulling lightly at her jacket to wordlessly tell you to take it off. she took the hint and shucked off the jacket, throwing it off to the side. your hands traced up her biceps, biting your bottom lip and lightly dragging your nails down her defined muscles.

"take your skirt off," she demanded with a growl and slipped her hands under your shirt, digging her calloused covered fingers into your waist.

"no need," you said with a grin, shuffling your feet a little wider as an open invitation. she slipped her hand between your legs and groaned almost anomalistically as her hand immediately met your sex, rubbing her index and pointer finger along your folds.

"fuck princess, didn't know you'd be so dirty," she teased and gave your pussy a few love taps, a satisfying slapping sound coming from your wet pussy. she picked up the back of your right thigh and hooked it over her hip. you leaned back against the wall as her fingers explored your folds, her eyes meticulously watching every twitch of your hips and moan that left your mouth.

she swirled her fingers in your slick, making sure they were properly coated before she teased two fingers at your entrance. your hips tried to lower onto her fingers and you whined as she pulled her fingers away, looking up at her with desperation.

“beg for it baby,” she cooed and brought her hand up, parting her fingers to admire your arousal stringing apart like a spider web.

“please vi, need you inside of me,” you begged, your nails digging into the back of her shoulders. she hummed and shoved her fingers into your mouth, smirking as you automatically started sucking on them. she flattened her fingers against your tongue and slid them in a bit further, causing you to slightly gag as they brushed against the back of your throat. humming in satisfaction, she traced her fingers around the walls of your mouth, curling them up slightly and tickling the roof of your mouth.

“good girl,” she praised and pulled her fingers out of your mouth with a ‘pop’, licking your saliva off of her fingers. reaching her hand down, she plunged her two wet fingers into your heat and started rubbing tight circles on your clit with her thumb, the textured callouses pushing on your button in certain places that made your head spin. your hips jerked up as you threw your head back against the wall, clawing your nails down vi’s shoulders as her rugged fingers pressed against your walls and curled inside of you at just the right angle.

“y-yes! right there!” you moaned out, your clit throbbing against her thumb as her fingers found the perfect tempo to pump into your tight heat. adding a third finger, she stretched out your opening with your fluids slobbering all over her hand like a melting ice cream cone. the pleasure was getting to be too much and you hitched forward, your teeth sinking into her bare shoulder as you gripped onto her arms for dear life. your orgasm overcame you with a sudden snap, your walls pulsing against her girthy fingers. she continued at her bruising pace, rubbing your clit even rougher than before. you mewled and weakly tried to push her away, the overstimulation heightening your senses.

“awe c'mon baby, you can give me another one can’t you?” she said huskily into your ear, kissing down your neck and emphasizing her fingers deep inside of you as she said ‘another one’. you mindlessly nodded and buried your face into the crook of her neck, your mouth agape with a moan that never came out as she quickly brought you to another orgasm as intense as a wave crashing against a cliff in a storm. your walls fluttered around her, squeezing so hard she swore they were going to be pushed out. slowing the rhythm of her fingers, she shallowly continued to thrust them to help you ride out your second orgasm.

vi gently slipped her fingers out of your slick walls, sucking on her three fingers with a satisfied hum as if she just finished the best meal of her entire life. she grabbed you by the back of the head and kissed you so fiercely that you could practically map where the scar on her lip started and ended with your eyes closed. as she kissed you, she turned the two of you around and leaned back against the wall. your hands naturally found their way to her biceps again, but you couldn't help but let them wander to her chest and grope at her wrapped breasts. vi closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the feeling of you squeezing her tightly wound tits while you peppered kisses along her jaw. giving her breasts one last firm squeeze, you pulled down her wrap and licked your lips as you saw her nipple perk up in the cold air. you kissed down her sternum and looked up at her with hooded eyes, surprised to see her in such a state of relaxation with her posture significantly softened. giving one last long lick up the middle of her chest, you latched onto her right nipple while you twisted the other between your fingers, drawing surprisingly high-pitched noises from the oh-so-brave fighter in front of you. she seemed to have enough as she pulled you back bu your hair with your head craned up at her.

"down on your knees," she growled into your ear and watched as you immediately dropped down in front of her, looking up at her with big eyes.

"so obedient," she purred and squished your cheeks together in her hand.

"open and stick your tongue out baby," she instructed and smirked when you lolled your tongue out with your mouth wide open. she gathered up a bit of saliva in her mouth and slowly let the drool stretch out past her lips until the warm liquid hit your tongue. she spit the last part connected to her lips down into your mouth and patted the side of your cheek as if you were a street mutt who was begging for food.

"now swallow," she ordered and unbuckled her belts, pulling her pants down as she watched you close your mouth and swallow her spit.

she chuckled and threaded her fingers through your hair, pulling you close to the crotch. with her jeans gone and her low-hanging boxers, you could see a pink happy trail that disappeared down into her underwear. you nuzzled your nose against her crotch and could smell the surprisingly pleasant sweaty must in between her legs, as well as hairs from her bush sticking out of her boxers like a pink porcupine. you stuck your tongue out once again and pushed against the material of her boxers with your tongue, your saliva sticking to her wet lips.

you placed a soft kiss to the front of her crotch and looked up at her for confirmation. she nodded her head steely and gave a soft tug to your hair, "go on, eat."

pulling her boxers down over her hips, you leaned up and pressed a few strong kisses up against her folds. the grip she had on your hair tightened, clutching at the hair at the crown of your head. you leaned in further and sucked on her puffy clit with your hands gripping her meaty thighs to stabilize yourself. flattening your tongue over her clit, you looked up at her blissed-out face as she bit back her moans and started riding your tongue. you hummed to add extra stimulation to her clit and firmly pushed your tongue up against her.

"fuck fuck fuck," she cursed as she pushed her upper body against the wall as her hips bucked against your wet muscle, sinful squelching sounds filling the room as more arousal fluid leaked from her folds. you could feel her pulsing against your tongue, switching between hollowing out your cheeks to suck on her clit and rubbing your tongue against her soaked slit.

she seemed to finally have enough and gripped your head to stay in place, her wrapped palms slightly sticking to your hair. she started desperately grinding her hips against your tongue until a high-pitched moan left her mouth. her hips froze up and she spasmed a few times against your mouth, her juices leaking down into your waiting mouth. her grip loosened on your hair which allowed you to happily lick her up, mindful of her sensitive spots until you were satisfied with your work. her fluids were all over your face creating a celestial-like sheen on your face that she couldn't help but blush at.

as you stood up and brushed off your knees, she brought you into a surprisingly soft kiss, giving you a last few pecks before pulling back. she studied your face and chuckled, shaking her head, "looks like it's not transfer proof pretty girl."

you cocked your head to the side before catching a look at yourself in the mirror, black smudges all over your face and neck. you laughed and half-heartedly wiped at the black makeup, realizing your fingers also had a bit of the black pitch on them, "it was well worth testing out."

a/n: omg reader you're not wearing underwear to the gross underground fighting ring that's grossssss

taglist: @sunflowerwinds @oceanstrap @evelyn3 @naabbie

[tevos]

lisa saying ‘i love to see a woman sweat’ like that isn’t all she’s doing to this poor woman and NOT in the way that carla would appreciate

[heartbeatbookclub]

FINALLY

[spideystevie]

allie your vday party is so cute!! what about 💘 + steve with "you slept like a baby. it was kind of cute." from the third list <333

hehehe thank you emma!! obsessed with the idea of sleepy baby steve, lord knows he needs the rest. enjoy some soft, sleepy steve <3 - [0.8k] | join the party!

It was Steve’s idea to do a movie night. The past few weeks had been a hectic blur, your downtimes never fully overlapping until tonight. He promised to snag some movies from work, one you’d been wanting to see and one he liked the poster of.

You were more than thrilled, eager to spend the night with your boyfriend, giving and receiving the attention you’d been without for what felt like ages. 

When you made it to Steve’s house that night, you could tell right away he’d had a day. He tried to hide it, his smile wide and beaming when he sees you. The hug he gives you is a tight squeeze that feels like coming home. You can tell all the same and you hold back a frown. 

The two of you make it through all of the movie he’d grabbed for you and you can tell he’s fighting off sleep. His head nodding off against your shoulder. When he comes back after putting in the next one, he lays his head in your lap, shimmying against the couch to get comfortable. He’s out within the first half hour. 

You knew the amount of stress Steve carried. It sat on his shoulders like a weight, so much so that he always seemed to sag. You’d noticed he’d started to lean on anything he could, against walls, door frames, the counter at work. 

He tried to hide it, didn’t want anyone to see what he was carrying, always worried he’d burden them with it. You were the only person privy enough to help alleviate it, to help shoulder that weight. Truthfully, you could only do so much. Sometimes, all he really needed was a good bit of sleep. 

The sun has long sunk beneath the horizon and Steve’s living room is pitch dark, save for the flashing of the television. The movie you’d started watching together, his pick, before he’d fallen asleep had long been over and you’d simply used the remote to switch to cable. You kept the volume low, almost on mute so as to not disturb him.

You’re not even sure what’s playing on the screen, too wrapped up in keeping Steve asleep as long as you can. Even if that meant your legs falling asleep and not being able to move them since his head rested in your lap. Your hand smoothed his hair away from his forehead, your fingers threading their way through the strands. 

He looks so serene like this, the most at peace you’d seen him in a while. There’s normally a stress crease on his face, a permanent divot between his eyebrows and one stretched across his forehead. Here now, your hand in his hair and his head in your lap, the stress lines have disappeared, melted into his skin. 

It tugs at your heart. 

Sometime after your legs have gone past pins and needles completely and you've seen the same ad on TV at least 5 times, Steve shifts in your lap. A sleepy grunt gets muffled against your thigh and one of his hands comes up to rub at his eyes. He blinks at the TV in his living room, a confused look taking over his sleepy features. He sits up and though you’re glad you can finally stretch out your legs, you also miss the solid weight of him in your lap.

“Did I fall asleep?” his voice is husky from sleep and you can hear an apologetic undertone to it. He’s pouting when he looks at you but you only smile with a shrug. 

“You slept like a baby. It was kind of cute,” you say, smile widening when you take in the pink flush that rises to the surface of his cheeks. He tries to stifle a yawn and fails. 

“M’sorry. Movie night was my idea and I-” you shush him, pressing a finger to his lips. His eyes get a little wide. 

“Hey, hey, none of that, okay?” you say, dropping your finger and instead moving your hand to caress against his face. “You needed the rest and I was more than willing to act as your pillow.”

Steve smiles at you, a little bashful but his heart is bursting at the seams. It’s pushing against his chest, growing and growing until he thinks it’ll pop and leave him dead. He leans into your hand, nuzzling his face against it. It’s how you know he’s still tired.

“M’so in love with you,” he mumbles, feeling entirely overwhelmed by the feeling. It takes you aback only slightly. A heavy warmth floats to the surface of your skin, sticky affection pumping through your heart and seeping into your veins. You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Feeling’s mutual, honey. Let’s get you into bed though, yeah? We can try movie night again tomorrow,” you say, your hand falling off his face and landing on his thigh. Steve nods and gets up from the couch with you, another contagious yawn falling past his lips.

[rheasonly1]

Daryl Dixon imagine ~

This content is 18+ and is more for mature users. But if you can handle it read till ya hearts content.

Also I used pronouns ‘I’ and ‘me’ to make it feel like it’s about you and him when you are reading it.

Enjoy

Lots of love x

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It was the crack of dawn when Rick decided to call everyone for a group meeting. These big wake up calls had been happening for around two weeks now, and I had become accustom to his short notice. As per usual Rick had sent Carol to ‘politely’ wake everyone up instead of her usual ‘shout until they sprout’ tactic.

Well, this time if he was going to call her bashing pots and pans against the cell doors ‘polite’ then I would happily go around telling everyone that we weren’t in the middle of an apocalypse.

Not that I needed to state the obvious but clearly wasn’t going to fuckin’ happen.

Besides the point, it was around the time where everyone was stood around the room yawning and groaning to try and diffuse the awkward silence that bounced off the walls, before Rick decided to use words and tell us why we were gathered here for the hundredth time this week.

Oh and it was the same boring shit every time.

“We need to come up with a plan-“

Blah blah.

“Someone needs to go on watch-”

Blah blah blah.

“We should clear more walkers from the yard-”

Blah blah mother fuckin’ blah.

I was at my wits end with this bullshit and in all honesty, I was so close to callin’ it. However I had to remember how if I did, I’d have to deal with a very VERY pissed off daryl. And despite his tantrums nearly giving me the biggest orgasm I had ever had, (mainly because I wouldn’t be able to stop staring at the way his muscles bulged when he became angry or how that one vein in his neck suddenly made me want to become a vampire) the shouting and silent treatment wasn’t a pleasant experience to say the least.

But In this moment I had locked eyes with the blue eyed redneck and I could instantly tell that he was as sick of Ricks crap just as much as I was and that sent tingles electrocuting around my body.

A form of excitement I couldn’t contain.

And just as I thought that it was the only piece of him I was going to get today, my attention was snatched by Daryl suddenly leaving the room and I could see the smirk slowly creeping on his mouth, only one that was made for me to see.

It felt like my ovaries were about to explode. This man made me feel things like never before. The things I could fantasise him doing to me, he made me squirm when he stared at me, his piercing gaze sending flutters in my stomach. And it was no secret how he made me feel, I had ranted to Maggie numerous times about how I just wanted him to total me into the ground.

He made me feel special in ways I’d never imagined possible.

He made the impossible, possible.

I snapped out of my day dream and remembered how he hadn’t long left the room. I definitely did not want to keep him waiting, so quietly I sneaked out the room unnoticed.

I followed his soft whistles guiding me to his exact location. And I ended up in the boiler room underneath the prison, we hadn’t long cleared it from walkers so it was as good as knew. Whatever that meant these days.

I slowly walked into the middle of the room and stood there for a second until I felt his undeniable presence enter.

I heard his footsteps behind me and his shadow appeared over mine. I could hear his feet dragging against the ground, as I hadn’t bothered to turn around to face him yet. Suddenly I felt these strong, tense arms snake around my waist, holding on tight and then a head rested upon my shoulder.

“Oomf.” A raspy voice let out.

I leaned my head back onto Daryl’s shoulder allowing him to bury his head into my neck.

All of a sudden I felt a sharp, biting pain going all the way down on the side of my neck and into my collar bone. I moaned softly and lowly at the satisfying feeling of Daryl nibbling on me.

He bit down harder at my response, I felt my eyes grow heavy and not in the tired kinda way. I let my hand travel to the back of his head, taking a handful of his hair and gripping it tight.

The purr which escaped from his mouth sent butterflies swarming in the pit of my stomach. Slowly, Daryl turned to stand in front of me, pushing hairs out of my face. His eyes were locked on mine but often quickly glancing at my lips and then back to my eyes again.

leaning in, he places small tender kisses on my lips and cheeks whilst cupping my face in his big calloused hands.

Along with more gentle and loving kisses, his arm slides around my waist pulling me closer to him. He hums lightly whilst rocking me slowly against him. I felt him harden against my pelvis.

I push my self further into him, and he chuckles huskily as he slides his hand down my back and rests it on my ass.

“a bit needy this morning, aren’t we?” He growls.

“Mhmmmm” I hum.

With one hand now squeezing my ass and the other wrapped around my neck, he leans closer to my ear and whispers.

“don’t worry you’ll get what you want sweetheart.”

His eyes were fixated on my lips and body. He leaned in, and for a moment it felt like time was standing still. The tension in the air was so thick I could feel it pulsing between us. He was close…so close. And my heart was racing, pumping a million beats per second.

Before either of us had chance to move, our lips crashed together and all my thoughts were blocked by how intense and passionate the kiss gradually became.

I pushed him hard up against the wall he hadn’t long appeared from behind, he groaned loud in response. And I continued to run my hands up his shirt feeling his chest.

His hands moved to my hips which were bare from the low waisted jeans I was wearing and he harshly pulled me into him. Then his hands traveled to the back of my thighs when he lifted me up into a sitting position with my legs wrapped right around his waist.

Gently and slowly he knelt down onto both knees and lowered me onto the ground, with my legs still around his waist. Quickly he slid his shirt over his head and threw it into a corner far from the room.

“I won’t be needing that anymore.”

I chuckled as he leant down towards me and his big broad body hovered over me. He stared at me for a few seconds while tracing my lip with his thumb, wiping the saliva away and then proceeding to lick his fingers afterwards.

Placing both hands either side of my head, he leaned into me and started to give wet, passionate kisses on my neck and down to my collar bone.

He stopped at the hem of my vest and then looked up at me. Tugging at the bottom of it, he gently lifted me up into a sitting position and brought the shirt up over my head and chucking it into the same corner as his.

I was left in my pants and bra. He admired my breasts for a few moments and then hugged into me whilst sneakily un-clipping my bra at the back.

Letting it fall I felt my boobs against his chest, and softly groaned at the feeling. He leaned back to admire them again in full view. Gently pushing my chin upwards, he placed kisses at the tip of my chin all the way down onto my stomach. Harshly, he sucked in a breath and at first I had no idea why.

Until suddenly I felt his big erection grow underneath me. I couldn’t resist. I turned him over so he was now laying on the floor and I was on top straddling him.

Daryl let out a deep moan as I rubbed myself against him and his eyes widened as his body began to respond.

I started grinding against his now giant erection and I could see it bulging through his pants.

“Just say the word.” I whispered.

He was breathing heavy and so was I. And oh we were not even half way through. He let out a controlled breath and that was him telling me he was ready.

I started to unbuckle his pants and then he took over pulling them the rest of the way down. I could tell it was throbbing by the look on his face he was yearning for me to help him release.

I’d give him more than just a release. I’d tighten him back up just so I could make him release again, again and again.

He couldn’t bare it anymore, he ragged off his boxers and he laid in his birthday suit underneath me.

“Happy birthday to me.” I chuckled.

I slowly and teasingly edged my way towards him, he was too impatient so he grabbed me by my hips and practically placed me on top of it. Just so I was hovering over the tip. It was pulsing like my heart beat and I couldn’t wait to give him what he wanted. My Daryl.

And just like that, I pushed myself into him.

A loud, deep moan escaped my mouth and echoed throughout the room. I had forgotten the amount of pleasure it would give me just as much as it would give him. Only now my plans were discarded as I could barely contain my bodies reaction to him inside of me.

I could feel it pumping inside of me as I slowly moved up and down.

“Fuck. Are ya really gonna do me like that?” He growled.

“Oh I’ll do ya, don’t you worry.” I cheeked.

I knew exactly what he wanted. My pace wasn’t fast enough for him. Not enough him to release. It was still pulsating and it was getting worse and he was closer to his limits.

I quickened up my pace, moving back and forth faster. And faster. And faster.

All of a sudden I felt his hot sticky cum erupt from his cock. We both moaned in unison, and loud. I wouldn’t be surprised if the group heard us up in the cell block. Not all the walls were sound proof. He was whimpering like a dog as I didn’t stop grinding on him, giving him more than what he asked for.

He leaned up and wrapped one arm around my waist and leaned on the other for support. His breathing had calmed down and he was staring into my eyes appreciating everything I had gave him.

“Time for me to return the favour.” He said sternly.

I Held my hands up in surrender. He looked up at my hands and slowly intertwined our fingers and brought them down so they were resting on his lap. He effortlessly lifted me off him and sat me between his legs, and then ran his hands under neath my thighs making me bend my knees up to my feet were pressed against the ground, and my legs were open wide.

He let go of my hands and traced both of the inside of my thighs coming closer and closer to my sweet spot. I had beat him to it, as I went to reach and down and release my throbbing slit, he snatched my hands away.

“Ah, ah, ah. No.” He said.

He pushed my hands behind my back so I wasn’t able to free myself from his grip. Teasingly his rubbed the sides of my clit, tickling my lips every now and then. Eventually he ran one finger down the middle and put his finger in-front of my face.

“Already wet. All this for me?” He whispered.

I nodded, confirming his statement. My breathing was now shallow and I didn’t know how much longer I could take his stalling.

However I was shocked to feel that I didn’t have to wait any longer as he harshly slid his fingers inside of me. Once again moans were abruptly escaping my mouth and it made him excited as his worked his fingers in and out of my cunt. He could tell how desperate I was for my release and he was going to give it to me.

“nearly there darlin’.” He spoke softly.

Finally his magic had payed off and now his fingers were covered in my hot and sticky cum. He played with it between his fingers whilst smiling and laughing.

“Open.” He demanded.

I opened my mouth, as he rubbed his fingers all around my gums and tongue.

Soon enough we were both back to our original state. And we were both dressed.

“I think it’s about time we get back, don’t want their minds wandering to far about our absence.” I joked.

“Shut up.” He said as he draped his arm over my shoulder whilst we walked back to the cell block.

Prompt: “Happy birthday to me.”

[rosewaterandivy]

https://youtube.com/shorts/QuNRoe29bPA?feature=share

Something like that? PLS

Love you <3

Wow, thanks so much for the request! I tweaked it a bit to fill one of the prompts from here, hope that's okay. Love you 💜

83. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

When you told him what you and Eddie would be up to Saturday night, Steve groaned so loud you could swear the couch vibrated.

You can’t be serious. And leaving me at the mercy of the gremlins?

“Yes,” you grin, “I’m sure the Harrington babysitting service can handle it.” And then you’re off to get ready for the party. “Knowing you, you’ll probably have some hot date booked for after you’ve dropped the gremlins off.”

It’s not that Steve worries, really he doesn’t, because you’ll be with Eddie and Robin will show up at some point, so at least you’ll be safe. But Saturdays were for movies with the party, taking full advantage of Steve and Robin’s (five-fingered) employee discount at Family Video and hanging out.

Recently, it’s been the only time when he can see you—busy with work and classes and helping Eddie with his GED. All your free time was accounted for, used up, leaving nothing left for him.

He tried (and failed) to be accommodating about it.

This resulted in frequent calls to your house, which your mother or father usually answered with thinly veiled annoyance (Sorry Steve, she just left. No, I don’t know when she’ll be back), interrupted study sessions at Forest Hills (Eddie’s exasperated, ‘Dude, what the fuck. You’re infringing on my right to an education here.’), and drop-ins while you were working at the diner.

In short, it was becoming a problem.

So when you mentioned, last minute mind you, that Eddie needed a hand dealing for a party this weekend and you’d agreed to help out, Steve took it about as well as could be expected.

Which is to say, not at all.

It’s bad enough that he’s making them watch Rocky IV, according to Dustin. But Steve pays him no mind and pops the tape into the VCR. The kids grumble and complain, but otherwise occupy themselves by half-watching the saga of Rocky and Drago.

His leg won’t stop bouncing as he reclines against the couch. It continues for the whole movie. When the film concludes with Apollo’s tragic demise, Max starts sorting through the rest of the tapes.

“What else is in here?” Throws out a few titles as she sees them, The Color Purple, 101 Dalmations, Out of Africa—

“Nope!”

Steve nearly hip checks Lucas in his haste to wrestle the tape from Max. They grapple for a bit, nearly coming to blows but Steve’s not about to hit a child and a girl at that. This sense of chivalry does not stop Max from smacking him upside the head, but he’s victorious in the end.

“And why can’t we watch that particular one?” Dustin ventures with a curious glance to Lucas before Steve settles back on the couch between them.

“I’ll, uh,” he stashes the tape behind the sofa, wedges its case against the wall. “Tell you when you’re older.”

Dustin and Lucas continue to eye each other warily.

Then El pipes up, “Friends don’t lie.” And before Steve can stop her from what will inevitably be an embarrassing calamity—

“It’s a … sad movie,” she continues, “The last time he watched it, he cried.”

Oh. Shit.

He wants nothing more than to bash his head against the wall, but can’t risk another concussion according to the doctors and literally everyone else. Maybe the earth could swallow him whole instead? Anything to end this humiliation.

“Didn’t you watch that with—” Mike begins, because he is an asshole.

“Oh yeah,” Dustin confirms, “They watched it like, a few weeks ago. I mean, her crying I get,” he turns to Steve, an incredulous look on his face, “But you—”

“Robert Redford is a good actor, okay?” He rushes to defend himself, “Very convincing.”

“Okaaayy,” Max drawls.

An uncomfortable silence ensues. The kids settle on watching Clue while Steve takes an opportunity to refill drinks and snacks. Tries to ignore the furtive whispers from the living room. Tries to focus on the popcorn in the microwave and not imagining what you may be up to at the house party with Eddie.

“Why don’t you just ask her out already?” Will says when Steve returns from the kitchen. 

The group falls silent, awaiting his response. Keep your cool, Harrington. He sets the bowl of popcorn on the table, doing his best to ignore Will’s probing question. Is almost successful until—

“Steve, you’re literally in love with her.”

He scoffs at Lucas’ blatant betrayal. Helped the kid practice everyday after school leading up to tryouts and this is how he’s repaid? 

“No,” he says with a tone to convey the end of this conversation. “We’re friends, just friends and that’s it.”

A beat of silence as everyone pretends to watch as Tim Curry greets the six strangers upon their arrival to the mansion.

Dustin coughs. “Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at her, Steve.”

“Oh my god.” Max looks like she wants to brain herself on the edge of the coffee table at the stupidity of it all. 

“Fuck off.” Steve huffs in annoyance, “Like I’m gonna take advice from a bunch of high schoolers.”

“Dude.”

“We’ve saved the world.”

“Like, multiple times.”

“And,” El annoyingly points out, “It’s good advice.”

Thankfully, Steve is saved by the bell. The phone trills its ring from somewhere beneath the couch cushions. Unable to find the cordless, he’s forced to answer it in the kitchen.

“Harrington residence.”

There’s music thumping and cross chatter down the line as he tries to make out who’s calling.

“Steve?”

“Rob, that you?”

A laugh, “Yeah, s’me. How you doin’ babe?”

Her voice has taken on that light, dreamy cadence it gets when she’s tipsy or high and, knowing her, it’s probably both.

“Uh, fine.” He turns to check on the kids in the living room, “Watching Clue. Did you need something?”

“Oh my god,” she rasps, “I love that movie!” A hiccup followed by a chuckle. “Nah, I’m good babe. I’m calling for someone else.”

He doesn’t know what to make of that.

“Rob, you know you called my house, right? The kids are here, if you wanna talk to them but—”

“Nonono Stevie,” she says in a rush, “M’callin’ about your girl.”

“My… girl.”

“Yep.”

The sounds of the phone being handed off to someone else. A few breaths and then, “Hi Steve.”

And oh.

Your voice is low and breathy through the phone, he can hear you giggling about something to Robin as you pull the speaker away from your mouth ‘I’m on the phone Buckley.’

He melts, just a bit. Because he knows that tone very well— when you fall asleep leaning against his shoulder during movie nights or take a brief nap sitting shotgun in his car, all raspy and sweet. 

“Hey honey,” he coos, voice incredibly fond. Steve turns, closing himself off from the din in the living room. “Y’doin’ okay?”

“Mmhm, tired though.”

“Is that right?’

A yawn. “Yeah,” he can hear the pout in your voice, “Rob doesn’t wanna leave yet and Eddie went upstairs with someone like, forever ago.”

Steve’s already grabbing his keys from the counter. “Stay with Robin, okay? I’m coming get you.”

“Thanks Stevie,” you sigh prettily, “You’re the best.”

_

Dustin (unhelpfully) advised him to get flowers before he left, so Steve put Max in charge, out of spite. Which unfortunately broke the levy for a barrage of romantic advice from literal children: hold the door, make eye contact, give her your jacket and be on the left side of the sidewalk.

It’d be endearing if it wasn’t so tragic.

He rolls up to the house to find not only Robin, but Eddie too, at your side seated on the sidewalk. He crosses the hood of the car as you stand with a soft smile, “Sorry Steve,” you say, less sloshed since the phone call, but still tired. “Didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“C’mon honey,” he scoffs, “There’s no way you could ruin my night.” He ushers you to the passenger seat, arm around your waist. He can smell the beer from the keg and stale cigarettes on you, laced with the comforting scent your perfume. 

He shuts the door after reminding you to put on your seatbelt and turns back to Eddie and Robin. They look like they’re up to no good— Eddie’s smirking and got that glint in his eye that says he’ll be a problem, all the while Rob has a dopey grin on her face.

“She’s had water and we took the drinks from her a while ago,” Eddie says, waving back at you from the sidewalk. “Try to have her eat something.”

Steve rolls his eyes. Like he needs advice from a dungeon master on how to deal with a drunk.

Robin blinks owlishly, “Ooh, Hardee’s, get her that.”

Steve laughs as Eddie shepherds Robin away. Says something about not fucking it up and using protection. He can’t bring himself to care as he slides back into the car. The radio kicked on as he starts the car, David Byrne rhapsodizing about a girl as she was. 

He watched as you bop to the song in your seat, bringing an affectionate smile to his face— eyes closed, hair whipping back in the cool night breeze as you sing along. The axels squeak when Steve pulls into the drive-thru lane.

Try as he might to keep his gaze on you, to watch you a little longer, the intercom sputters to life—a young boy’s voice greeting mechanically but trying nonetheless to adhere to Hardee’s hospitality best he can.

The burger you’d gotten—medium, double meat, bacon, all toppings between—has completely fallen apart in a splat back onto the wax paper in your lap.

“Here, honey.”

He fumbles for napkins. But you wave his worries away, licking your fingers before diving in to deconstruct your food.

“Sorry—I promise I have my shit together.” Another giggle, “Not doing well here. Makin’ a mess your car and everything.”

“I, uh, I think you’re doin’ great.”

The words slip out before he can catch them and around a mouthful of fries, you thank him, and then you take a breath, and he can literally see you winding up for another enormous bite.

“Sorry,” you pause sheepishly, “M’ starving—skipped lunch on accident.” You take the enormous bite he saw coming, and then, “Also doesn’t help—mm—nervous.”

Steve chews on a fry and slurps his soda, driving with ease. “Nervous ‘bout what?”

You swallow and steal his drink, “Weren’t you on a date?”

He blinks.

You blink.

He blinks again.

“No, I was watching movies with the kids.”

His face is so hot that he thinks someone must have thrown a fire into him. Should he have just gone along with it instead? It’s old news by now that King Steve had turned in his crown for a walkie-talkie and chauffeuring a bunch of teens around.

A beat passes and he tries again, now at the end of the meal and the stain on your shirt starting to sink in and spread, heavy enough to dip toward the skin beneath. “Do you want to take your shirt off?”

You choke on soda and add another splatter down your chest, “What?”

“You can wear my jacket,” he clarifies. “Give it back later. I mean, if you…” He frowns. “Uh. Um.”

The beemer comes to a stop in front of he Harrington house. Lights still on in the living room signalling that the party is still there. 

You changed out of your shirt, ducking down in the front seat bashfully (“Look away, damn it.”), your old t-shirt in a crumple inside his pocket. His jacket hung a bit loose, but zipped up all the way and it was a good enough cover for a while.

There’s a smear of grease on your cheek from the burger and Steve knows it’s just a personality trait at this point. He laughs when you stick your tongue out, trying to find exactly where it is before giving up and asking him to wipe it off.

He shoves his hands in his pocket afterwards, thumb jammed inside his fist like a souvenir, keeping it there the rest of the walk up the drive, all the way up to the front door of his house before he wonders if he should have been trying to hold your hand.

Maybe not.

“I missed this,” he says, brushing his shoulder against yours.

You hum, knocking your hip against his. “Thanks for dinner,” you say, looking up at him.

“Yeah, of course.”

“And picking me up.” A beat passes. “And the jacket, too. It’s really nice… comfortable and, uh, smells… good. Like, cinnamon and… nice body wash and… trees.” You make a queasy face and close your eyes for a second, pinching the bridge of your nose uncomfortably as Steve looks on.

Oh, he realizes. You must be woozy.

Oh, he realizes. You’re gonna hurl.

“Steve,” Your voice is small and tight, and you look like you’re struggling to take steadying breaths. “I gotta sit down.”

“Right,” he replies. You laugh, rubbing the back of your neck before he turns and unlocks the door.

The kids are passed out on the sofa and reclining chairs in the living room. He locks the door and sneaks you upstairs, hands politely on your waist to steady you on your feet. Guides you to the left toward the guest bath and flips on the lights. 

“You alright?”

The fluorescents cast you in a hazy yellow glow, squinting at the bright light. You paw at the countertop for something, water? You turn to open a drawer and find a spare toothbrush— the blue one, yours, a freebie from a check-up and gloop some toothpaste on the bristles. With a nod in response, you begin to brush your teeth, faucet running as you fill a cup of water. 

Steve leaves you with a clean washcloth and towel, should you need them, and goes to check that his room isn’t a complete disaster. Bed sheets are clean-ish and he doesn’t have time to run them through the wash, though there’s always one of the guest rooms…

“Hey.”

He startles slightly, not hearing you walk in. You’ve toed off your shoes by the door and are looking sheepish, lip pulled between your teeth. “Can I borrow some clothes?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

Steve pulls open some drawers, rifling through for something for you to sleep in. Throws your top into his hamper while he’s at it. He turns back to you with a ‘Hawkins Athletics’ shirt that’s seen better days and a pair of flannel pajamas. Shoves them toward you awkwardly and then promptly turns around to let you have some privacy while you change.

“Thanks.”

He makes a strangled noise of confirmation and clears his throat. “No problem.”

Hearing the rustling of sheets, he turns back around and catches sight of your bare leg as you hunker down in his bed. Heat rushes to his cheeks when he spies the pajama pants neatly folded and placed on his nightstand. You turn on your side, burrowing and fluffing the pillows to your liking.

Steve makes quick work of brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed. Shoes by the door next to yours, jeans shucked into a pile by his desk, keeps his shirt on for the sake of decency, and slips in next to you. 

“I appreciate you coming to get me, y’didn’t have to do that.”

His arm drapes against your shoulder while you snuggle into him, casual affection being the norm between you two. He swallows thickly, tries to regulate his breathing when your hand rests against his chest.

“What’re friends for?”

“Hmm,” you consider for a moment. “Friends may not be the most accurate term.”

Steve bristles at that. 

“What do you mean?” He turns toward you, heart racing— did you not want to be friends anymore? Did he do something wrong?

Your face is impassive, blank. Steve couldn’t even begin to guess at what you’re thinking, is afraid to even try.

Then, you smile.

Fuck. That smile.

“S-so, not friends then?”

Steve is not a religious man, but he prays that your smile means what he thinks it does. Slowly reaching toward you, he brushes a lock of hair from your face, fingers grazing your cheek. 

Mischievously, you lean in, touch him soft on the lips and every beat of his pulse seems to be seeking out the sweet plush of your mouth. “If we were just friends, I shouldn’t wanna kiss you so bad, but we both seem to be … not good… at following decorum, so…” Your eyes light up teasingly, “What d’ya say?”

Steve makes a noise like a whimper. Wow. Babysitter extraordinaire with a bat of nails under his bed and it’s your smile that does him in.

You kiss him again, longer than the last, giggling softly and tugging on his bottom lip like you could pull his entire body toward you with just that. “I’m sure we could find a few more rules to break.”

[mrs-han]

Hello, my lovelies!!

Thank you all so much for your submissions and interactions — it is so wonderful to be back in the company of truly wonderful people!!

I’ve been gifted with an abundance of happiness and strength that I simply needed to boast about it. Just a little! >w<

I’ll absolutely get back to your creative requests right after this! 🥹

V’s newly adopted daughter brought about a profoundly positive change in him, one both you and Jumin encouraged wholeheartedly. Jumin seemed giddier and far more optimistic now that his best friend was talking with him and inviting him over regularly.

And you felt a magnetic pull from Jumin as he expressed a playful and childlike side of himself, a side he didn’t show very often. Reason one billion, seven hundred and ninety-nine of why you loved your Jumin Han.

You played with a vivacious Lucy on the floor, bouncing your little doll against the floor of a Victorian dollhouse gifted to her by none other than her rich uncle. “The Prince is waiting for us! We must hurry!”

“I’m getting dressed!” Lucy opened an elegant dresser stuffed with little pieces of crocheted clothes done by your dear husband. “Oh, what shall I wear!”

Jumin’s chuckle distracted you. You spun to look at him; he raised his teacup towards you and continued speaking to V while still staring at you.

“Auntie, your turn to talk!!”

“Oh, uh —” you bounced your doll animatedly. “Put on the dress you bought last week!”

Lucy reached into the dollhouse; a loud crash suddenly alerted everyone in the room.

“Sweetheart?!” V sped towards his daughter, pulling her into his arms and searching her body for injuries. “Are you hurt? Sweetheart, look at me. Are you hurt?”

Lucy’s lower lip wobbled and tears flowed from her large blue eyes within seconds. “I… I broke the floor…”

After checking you over for any injuries, Jumin angrily reached for his phone. “This is completely unacceptable. I’m calling the manufacturer right now.”

“N-No,” Lucy stammered, wiping her tears with her tiny hands. “It’s my fault… I pushed… I pushed on it, and… p-please don’t be mad…”

You crawled to her, crooking a finger and lifting her chin. “Sweetie, accidents happen…! There could have been rot in the wood, so that’s why it needed to be knocked down! You performed a major service, you see!”

Lucy sniffed, unconvinced.

“Tell you what. Let’s give that room a brand new makeover!”

“C… Can we do that?” Lucy’s eyes pleaded with you.

“We’re gonna do our very best! It isn’t gonna be perfect, but it will be the best room by far because we recreated it!”

And you stuck to your word. Refusing pre-made models from your husband, you created miniature floorboards and light fixtures… after receiving a few minor shocks. Lucy carved furniture, painted her own art over the droll wallpaper, and knit a few new clothes with her Uncle Jumin.

And V helped dress each doll with their very own handmade dress. Or shirt. Or sweater.

After two weeks of working, the room was complete. It certainly contrasted the rest of the Victorian vibe, with its vibrant colors and bulky furniture, but none of you cared. Especially Lucy.

She tugged your sleeve, a proud sparkle in her eyes. “Auntie, auntie! Now that we’re finished, we can play in it!”

You smiled gently, running your fingers through her sandy brown hair. Jumin stepped in, shaking his head and producing a fairly stern tone. “Lucille, dove. Your aunt needs to rest.

“Aw… okay!!” Lucy spun towards her father, tugging his arm eagerly while begging for a yes to her question.

“Thank you,” you whispered, resting your weary head on Jumin’s chest. “My fingers are battered and my back is sore.”

Strong and capable arms holding you up, Jumin swayed slightly with you. “You know better than any of us how time consuming and rewarding construction is.”

You realized what he was talking about — how the walls and windows of your inner sanctum had been bashed in, leaving glass and dirt and other extremities everywhere.

It took you a grueling amount of time — weeks, months, years — making repairs and throwing out those who didn’t contribute to your greater good.

Including Jumin.

Your eyes flickered — Jumin lightly kissed your forehead. “You‘ve grown so much, my love. But if you start self-sabotaging by spending more time in someone else’s domain, then I’m afraid I’ll have to take necessary action.”

“Necessary action?”

“Break their door and carry you home, of course.” His brows shot up. “Or perhaps throw a rock at a window?”

“You shouldn’t damage property, Jumin.”

“I can if your host begins boarding you in.”

“No, I mean, you shouldn’t because I’ll have already bulldozed my way out.”

Your retort assuaged Jumin’s hardening gaze. “Haah… so it is true. From the ashes rises the Phoenix.”

Lifting you into his arms, you sank into Jumin’s embrace with ease, closing your eyes and pressing near. “I’m a hell of a Phoenix, too.”

Jumin chuckled gently. “Yes. You are.”

[talltoontales]

> Hearts -&- Minds <

Prompt: [NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: Couple's Telepathy]

Prompt By: ToonMan (Me)

Started Writing: 05/14/2024

|| || || || || || || || || ||

>Eddy<

I just flew off the couch after that. I mean, I don’t know who wouldn’t if one second you were just chillin, taking a nap on the couch, enjoying your vacation, and then you heard a voice in your head tell you that you leveled up. I mean, it was so…real? It was like the voice was coming from inside my head. God, and now I have a headache. I stand up, suddenly feelin' a sharp pain in my knees. Guess late twenties are the new fifties.

<Lin>

I hate my stupid desk! If I had a dollar for every time I bashed my knees against this thing, I wouldn’t need this boring ass job! Too cheap for desks not from a rundown middle school, too lazy to hire more people so I don’t have to work six days a week, and too uptight to let me wear fucking pants!

I see Niki being nosy again, poking her head over the cubical wall separating us. “What?!” I ask. She quickly cowers back to her own desk like the gossiping roach she is. If she worked as hard at her job as she did at not minding her own business, I wouldn't have had to come in on what was supposed to be the first day of my vacation.

I try to rub the tired out of my eyes. I got my power nap outta the way. I just need to focus on getting this report done so I can go home. I feel my heart speed up a bit when I think about my home. I still can’t believe it’s been a whole year since I moved in with Eddy. Just thinking about that dope of a man just makes me all giggly.

>Eddy<

Here I am again, fridge wide open, scrolling through videos of pets being derps. Curse you, internet, you terrific time waster. Eventually, I force my phone screen down on the counter as I scavenge through the kitchen for a snack. It’s times like these when I wish 3D printing food was a thing. My eyes then wander back to the fridge…

<Lin>

“Ugh!” I groan as my mind wanders between boring work and my oldest love, food. If I knew I was coming in today, I would’ve asked Eddy to make me…honestly anything sounds good at this point. Did I forget to eat breakfast or something?

Before I really knew what was happening, my head jerked back to the top of the cubical wall, expecting to see Niki staring at me again, but she wasn’t. I still couldn’t shake this feeling like something was wrong…

>Eddy<

As I slide the fridge back a bit, I once again wonder when Niki even had the time to make this. I feel the side of the counter until the texture changes from solid wood to flimsy paper. I carefully peel the paper back, revealing a perfectly square hole cut into the side of the counter.

Inside the hole was a decent pile of snack cakes resting on a tarp hammock.  My girlfriend may know her way around a tool (Rimshot.MP3), but if she thinks she can hide snacks from me, then…

…I swear if he touched my snack stash…

I stumble backward, landing butt-first on the floor before I try scrambling to my feet. “H-Hey! You’re home—” I turn around to find no one behind me. I slowly got up, peeking my head out of the kitchen, still finding no one. “Hello? Lin?”

<Lin>

Almost done, good thing, too. This chair’s killing me. I swear, it feels like I’m sitting on the floor. Just a little more, Lin, and then a nice soft couch and softer boyfriend await. “Oh!” I chirp, pulling out my phone. I quickly started texting Eddy.

>Eddy<

After doing a full sweep of the apartment, I could only come to one conclusion. My conscience got the better of me. I mean, today was supposed to be a day for me and Lin to just relax, watch daytime TV, and be a mess.

Yet here I am, walkin’ around in my boxers, wastin' the day away while Lin’s probably absolutely miserable at work right now, and I’m stealin' her snacks! You know what? My hardworkin' woman deserves better!

I storm into the kitchen, grab my apron and cookin' bandana from the cupboard, and…struggle to figure out what to make. I mean, if I knew what I wanted to cook, I wouldn’t have been racoonin' in the first place. I hear my phone go off. A text from Lin:

[LIN: Hey, I know it’s still your lazy day, but would you mind going to Zlatan’s and getting some soup for dinner? I really need it after today. I’ll pay you back when I get home.]

Zlatan’s? Zlatan’s?! Nuh-uh! You ain’t paying twenty-five dollars for two bowls of grease with a side of soup and a couple of really good crackers. No, no, no, if you want soup, I’ll give ya soup!

[EDDY: No prob, Bob! See ya soon! <3]

I start throwing ingredients and utensils onto the counters. Time to earn my keep.

<Lin>

I look at his response with probably the dumbest smile on my face. What is wrong with me? We’ve been dating for almost five years, and just thinking about Eddy still makes me feel like a blanket fresh from the dryer. And I still willingly walked into this hellhole? All I ever do is complain to him about my job, and he just sits there and takes it. We finally get to take our first vacation together, and what do I do? Go to work!

I save my work and shut down my computer. As I go to stand up, my knee hits the edge of my desk again, but all it does is further my resolve. I walk out of my cubical only to get blocked by Niki and her stupid rolling chair.

“Heading home?” asks Niki.

“Yep!” I reply as I try to walk around her. Niki rolls back in her chair, letting me move forward but still in my way.

“Before you head out,” says Niki, “I just wanted to say I appreciate you coming in to finish our report, but maaaybe leave your phone in your locker next time. I’d hate for you to keep coming in on your days off to play catch-up.”

All I can do is stare at her. Thoughts racing of all the horrible things I’ve wanted to say to Niki ever since she was hired. Sometimes, I feel like she was hired specifically to get me fired. Every day, it’s backhanded compliments, micromanaging, gossiping about me behind my back to anyone who can’t escape the little—

>Eddy<

“—bitch!” I yell as jog away from the stove, wipin' the boilin' water off my hand. This is not going as planned. Half the ingredients I need I either don’t have or are spoiled. I definitely mismeasured what ingredients I do have, and now the kitchen is a disaster area!

Why? Why?! Why didn’t I just go to Zlatan’s? Sure, their food is horrible in every sense of the word, but at least it’s cheap and quick (Rimshot.MP3). No! Damn it, not the time for that! I need…I need to—

<Lin>

At this point, I don’t even hear Niki talk anymore. I just see her mouth move and know nothing good is coming out of it. She’s this job in a nutshell, holding me back from what actually makes me happy! The floodgates of my brain prepare to burst as I focus in on Niki.

…take a deep breath.

I freeze up at the sound of Eddy’s voice. The world loses focus as his words echo throughout my head. The sound of him breathing, in through the nose and out through the mouth, it’s so clear, as if he was right next to me. I remember all the times I came home a mess, cursing, crying, flinging my shoes at stuff. I remember he’d force me to sit down, holding me the entire time, and he’d just tell me to—

…breath…

My body follows along with the memory, long, deep breaths, as I feel the wave of frustration flush out of me. I refocus myself on the unpleasant sound of Niki still talking. That’s when I realize that’s all she ever seems to do. That’s all she can do. I walk around her. I can hear her say something behind me, probably nothing nice, but I just tune it out. It’s not important anymore.

// // // // // // // // // //

As Lin walks down the hall, the smell of food puts a small grin on her face as she comes to her door. Before she can put her key in, the door swings open, blasting Lin with the scent of freshly cooked food. She looks down to find Eddy dressed up, leaning against the doorframe.

“Welcome home, honey,” says Eddy. He guides his girlfriend into the apartment to a candle-lit table with a bottle of sparkling grape juice, a basket of breadsticks, and a warm pot of dumpling soup.

“Hope you don’t mind," Eddy continues. "I didn’t feel like headin' to Zlatan’s today. Thought I’d whip something up myself, nothin' too special, just a soup I made from stuff taking up space.”

Lin leans down to hug Eddy, putting most of her body weight on him and burring her face in his hair.

“Thank you,” says Lin.

“Tired?” asks Eddy.

“Yes,” answers Lin.

“Wanna sit on the couch while I make you a plate?” asks Eddy.

“Yes,” answers Lin. Eddy pulls Lin forward onto his back and carries her to the couch. While Lin kicks off her shoes and gets comfortable, Eddy prepares two beautiful plates, elegantly making his way back to the living room with both plates in hand.

“Bon appetite, mademoiselle,” says Eddy as he gracefully puts the two plates on the living room table. Before joining Lin on the couch. She turns on the TV, and the two eat, talk, and laugh from noon until late into the night.

>Eddy<

Looking at Lin resting peacefully on my lap, I just…today was just plain great. Even with all that’s happened, I couldn’t imagine a better day off if I tried.

I dunno how to explain it. Me and Lin, we’ve always been solid, but somethin' about today just makes me feel like we really hit the next level as a couple. Maybe I could put that ring my dad gave me to good use after all. I feel Lin’s hand gently press against my cheek.

“Dinner was amazing, babe,” says Lin, “five stars, easy.”

“Eh, it’s no big deal,” I say. Anything for my hardworking woman.

“When did you learn to do that?” asks Lin.

“Do what?” I ask back.

“That thing where you talk with your mouth closed,” says Lin. I wonder if she’s talking about that thing people do with puppets…ventriloquism? “Yeah, that! Planning on doing dinner and a show?”

Oh god! I hope he didn’t buy another weird-looking skeleton thing

I watch as Lin continues to talk, tearing into my knack for Halloween decorations. Not a single word passes her sealed lips as she stares at me with her beautiful eyes. Now she’s curious, a little freaked, completely freaked. Can she…

…Can you hear me?

Lin’s eyes go as wide as dinner plates. I guess that’s a yes.

Can you hear me?

I nod in response. The next few seconds feel like minutes, as if we had guns to our heads. Not a word or thought could be heard until we came to the same conclusion.

Holy shit…

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. . . . . . . . . .

Fun Fact: I actually finished this story Wednesday (05/15). All I had to do was go back through it with a fine-tooth comb, and BOOM, posted that same day. Then I took a "short" nap... Anyway, Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story! If you have any comments, critiques, or criticisms, please don't be afraid to let me hear 'em (as long as they're constructive (or comical)). Also, if you have some spare time, check out my blog for more stories like the one above. Stay safe, drink plenty of water, and be kind to yourself and others. ToonMan, AWAY!

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Can I request prompt 20 and 6 from tropes/situations with robin buckley

I love Robin with my whole bisexual heart.

"This is the third time this week, ya know." Robin mutters against my lips as my fingers dance under the front of her shirt, soothing over her soft skin that's now covered in goosebumps. "I'm starting to think you missed me." She laughs breathily, her head thumping against the wall and my lips trail down the column of her throat, loving the sounds that I draw out of her.

"I missed you in very specific ways." I giggle quietly, eyes flickering up to watch her gasp as I lower myself to my knees in front of her.

Her room darkens every minute that passes by, the TV in the living room down the hall eventually quieting, signaling that her parents are fast asleep by now, giving Robin and I the perfect amount of time and space to do what we do best.

Fuck and then judge people as aftercare.

"Maybe we could just like, watch a movie or something. I mean, I do work at a movie store." She rambles and I pause, my lips skimming against her navel as a confused look takes over my expression. My brows furrow at her offer, lost on why she doesn't want to do what we typically do, what we typically love to do. "It's just an idea. We could just do normal things for once." I sigh, fixing myself as I stand up, tilting my head at her with a shrug. It's impossible to miss the longing tone of her voice, her eyes following me nervously as I reach out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ears sweetly.

"We are doing normal things. Some friends just do a bit more." I giggle, expecting her to blush or to bashfully look away but she just pouts, her lips tugging down into a small frown. My heart pangs painfully at her sorrowful look, my hand reaching out to rest on her upper arm. "Hey-"

"Why do you feel the need to specify we’re 'just friends?" Her question takes me off guard, my stomach dropping at the frustration lacing her tone. Robin is never angry or anything close to it so my mind fumbles for an explanation for her tense jaw and frantic gaze.

"I thought we were friends and that we both agreed to do this?" I ask, taking a tentative step away from her as she sighs, reaching up to brush a hand through her hair. "Is that not what you want to do anymore?"

"No, I want to. I just wish you'd stop calling us friends." It's almost as if the word friends physically pains her, a look of disgust passing through her eyes. Now it's my turn to pout, my bottom lip jutting out and my whole body deflates. This was the last thing that I was expecting when I came over tonight, never expecting to see her so upset about something that I didn't even realize was bothering her.

"What do you want me to call us?" She smiles softly with a bashful shrug and, though it takes a few moments, it hits me, realizing that she wants to be more than friends and just never said anything this whole time. Why?

"An us." She stutters out before anxiously covering her face with her hands, speaking against her palms. "Like girlfriends- I don't know if you feel that way about me or would even want to be seen romantically with me but I want to be seen with you like that-"

"Robin-"

"-and I just think that we'd be really good together, on top of all of the sexual stuff- which I love, don't get me wrong." My hands cup her cheeks, finally silencing her rambling, her eyes wide as she stares at me, dumbfounded at my forwardness.

"If you wanted to be my girlfriend, all you had to do was ask." Her lips part as a shaky breath leaves her, her whole body relaxing against me as if I lifted the greatest and heaviest weight from her shoulders.

"Cool."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane2828 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee

[snippity-snappity-snoot]

@tartppola this is for u ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “Crowley, this feels a bit unnecessary…” You offer, observing the headmaster of one of the most prestigious academies for young mages in the entirety of Twisted Wonderland as he lay completely prone on your couch, face-flat in one of your pillows and occasionally making garbled mutterings which could be words but were equally as likely to be just general wails of despair. Nothing about the position looked comfortable (his legs were awkwardly dangling off the side since he was slightly too tall to sprawl across your furniture) but you think he had already become victim of the sunk cost fallacy and was too deep in his dramatics to quit now. A small huff escapes you, sinking to your knees and leaning forward to rest your forearms on the upholstery. Crowley flinches when he feels the cushion bend under your weight but makes no move to acknowledge your presence. Rude. Just because he’s sulking doesn’t mean that he gets to snub you in your own home. 

You pinch his ear.

“U-u-uwarghhh!!! I give, I give! Have mercy…!” Crowley shrieks, shooting up so fast he almost bashes head into yours in a desperate attempt to stop the mild discomfort you were suddenly putting him through. In the midst of his floundering, one of his hands ends up grasping your wrist in an attempt to gain purchase. You take a moment to notice how, despite how his claws prickle against you, he still doesn’t scratch you. Even at his most ridiculous, Crowley’s care for you has a habit of shining through. 

You soften at that thought and let your hand fall down, ceasing both your gentle torment (you had not been pinching him that hard) and Crowley’s incessant squawking (once again: you had not been pinching him that hard) at the same time. But rather than return to your side, you let your fingertips slowly trace across the shell of his ear, down the curve of his jawline and ending up right at his lips. He shuts up. “There’s my silly bird,” You coo, “I know you’re upset that our plans got messed up because you got called into work.” Your other hand comes up to cradle his cheek. He promptly leans into it, soaking up the affection with a little sniffle.

“And I’ll admit! I was also a little depressed that things had to change on such short notice…” You continue. “But you wanna know something?”

Crowley looks at you, eyes somehow still looking watery despite being obscured by his mask. “...What is it?”

You grin and whisper to him.

“I’m the sort of person that celebrates their birthday all week. So you’ve got plenty of time to make it up to me.”

His face blankens for a second, before his eyes light up (quite literally in his case) and a prideful smirk crosses his face. “Nyohoho! That’s right! I am, of course, terribly kind and resourceful and would never let a little setback like ‘needing to fill in paperwork for building repairs because some members of the student body blew up a wall again’ stop me from celebrating such a special occasion! Now, I wonder if I can somehow salvage that previous booking-” 

At this point, he begins to ramble and you sorta lose track of what he’s saying. Honestly, his little declaration would’ve been more effective if his hat and clothing weren’t noticeably crumpled from his now forgotten temper tantrum…  and he weren’t noticeably nuzzling into your hand… but this was definitely more preferable than him moping around. 

You were sure that this birthday was going to be one of your most memorable yet. 

[duskholland]

No Control || Frat!Tom Smut

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

✧ *:･ﾟNo Control･ﾟ:*✧

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

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

He instantly knows that he wants you.

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

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

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

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

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

“At what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harrison rolls his eyes. “Go on.”

“See ya, mate.”

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

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

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

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

Tom likes how your voice sounds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirk. “Business major,” you supply.

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

“I know. We’re in the same class.”

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

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

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

“I don’t know. Will you?”

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

“Have fun,” you say, stepping back.

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

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

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

“Eh… a couple weeks,” Harrison supplies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You walk in.

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

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

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

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

Right?

“I don’t need to—”

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

Harrison grimaces. “Are you sure?”

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

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

“Yep. Go for it.”

“Thanks, bro.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So why can’t he stop thinking about you?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom thinks he could get you to moan louder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Well?”

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harrison is not my boyfriend,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See ya!” he calls back.

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tom, I couldn’t—”

“Yeah, you can.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell her what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if it rains?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Hazzy.”

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

Tom blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Aww.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight kiss,” Tom begs. “Please?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As if.”

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

“And how’s your hangover?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Care for a nut?”

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

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

“Dirty girl,” he mutters, grinning wickedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what is this proper charm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait— I can walk back home.”

“Nah. It’s fine.”

“It’s out of the way, though.”

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

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

“No problem, love.”

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

“Small talk?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah. Crazy. Did you have fun?”

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

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

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

“Eh?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

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

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

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

“Woah,” you mutter. “Sorry.”

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

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

“Aren’t we friends?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom nods. “Yeah. I’m great.”

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

“Tom. What are you doing with him?”

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

“Nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you respond, slightly breathless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

“You know,” you hiss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You quirk a brow. “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom’s brows raise. “Did you..?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I taste your pussy, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ride you?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“Y’wanna flip?”

“Yeah. Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

thank you for reading!! <3<3

[kirieshhhka003]

Hi! So, I just read one of the prompts you did with diavolo x fem!reader and i loved it. It was really good!

Can I ask for prompt 110 " for your safety I'll be gentle" or 34 "I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional" (or both, your choice) with Bucciarati x fem!reader, please? 🤗💕

Omg omg omg, I had this idea sitting in my brain for a long time, you are a blessing!!!

Prompt 34: I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional

Pairing: teacher! Bruno Buccellati x fem! student! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, teacher/student dynamic, school sex, fingering, corruption kink, dirty talk, loss of virginity (?, with fingers, does that count?)

Professor Buccellati lets out an exasperated sigh, trying his best to keep a calm friendly expression in his handsome face, and you can’t help but look coyly at your knees, fingers fidget nervously with the hem of your skirt. He’s been trying to explain you this topic for half an hour now, man has tried every way of elucidation his mind could produce, but your brain stubbornly refuses to assimilate information that teacher gives you

Brunette takes off his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index fingers, his pretty eyebrows are knitter together

- Okay, don’t worry Y/n. I see that you understand this topic but you just need some time so your brain can process all the information. That’s enough for today, go and get some proper rest, - your teacher says, closing the book laying in front of you with a soft flop

You look at your teacher, disconnect glimmer in your eyes:

- No, signire Buccellati, I need to work more! I’ll have my first final next week, I can’t just sit around waisting my time! - you reply, hint of complaint in your tone. Brunette just sighs heavily, his eyes wander all over your sulky pretty face

- Y/n, I can see the dark bags under your eyes, when did you sleep properly? - man inquires, looking sternly, but still with a hint of softness in his gaze, like if he was scolding a toddler for their little mischief. You don’t find what to answer. But really, when? You can’t even remember the last time you slept over 4 hours

- That’s what I’m saying. Don’t overwork yourself, you need to relax. I’m sure that you know everything, and I know that you’ll do great on your finals, so get your mind off school for a little bit. Go to the caffe with your friends, watch some anime or what do teenagers do now? - professor says, making you smile at his last words

- I just can’t make myself relax. I’ve tried so many times, but none of my attempts worked. Even when I listen to music I subconsciously start to reiterate all the formulas. It seems like I’m slowly going insane. I just don’t know what to do to distract myself from studying, I’ve tried literally everything I could, - you confess quietly, suddenly you feel pity on yourself. Slowly losing your mind because of preparation for final exams - definitely not the life you wanted

Brunette stays silent for almost a minute before letting out a sigh, his voice drones on, cutting through the silence of the classroom

- Well, I have one idea on my mind, it may help, - man says in appealing tone, you raise your eyes from your knees on the man sitting next to you, your sight full of attention and hope

- Really? - you ask, note of disbelief in your voice makes older man smile placidly at your reaction

- Yes, but I’m afraid I can no longer remain professional with you then, - man replies, watching intently at your reaction on his words. You only nod aggressively a few times, ready to pick up on everything your teacher will say

You don’t understand much what’s going on when your teacher tilts your head by your chin to face him, the next moment his plump lips are pressed gently against yours, man’s hot breath tickles your cheeks. Your eyes widen and you bleat in protest, but signore Buccellati hushes at you, pulling back a little

- That’s okay Y/n, that’s part of the plan. I’m pretty sure it’s gonna work, you want me to help you, don’t you? - brunette utters hastily and his deep calm voice works wonders, turning you into a putty goo in brunette’s arms. You only nod silently, the expression on your face is kind of bewildered, bright blush adorns your cheeks. That makes your teacher smile with the corners of his mouth, his warm hand that was holding your head by the chin now caresses the side of your face

- That’s my good girl. So just trust me and try not to make too much noise, okay?

Your lips meet again, but this time the kiss is way more ardent and passionate. Professor Buccellati parts your lips with his tongue, shoving it inside of your mouth, trailing it along the raw of your teeth. You whimper quietly at older man’s manipulations, you put your slightly sweaty from nervousness palms on brunette’s shoulders, squeezing them faintly, eyes are shut tight, eyelashes flutter against your cheeks

Professor’s free hand lays atop of your thigh, gently tracing intricate patterns on your skin, causing goosebumps to rise. You rub your legs together feeling heat starting to gather in the bottom of your stomach, all the debauched sounds that your mouthes do turn both of you even more

- Sit on the desk, - your teacher rasps and you’re quick to obey, doing as you’re told and sitting yourself on top of the desk you’ve just sat at. Signore Buccellati soon splays your legs wide, nestling himself between them. Your lips meet again in a wet sloppy kiss, brunette’s hands roam your body, paying special attention to your breasts and hips

Older man leaves trail of kisses leading down to your neck, his lips softly caress your skin leaving you a whining mess in your teacher’s experienced arms. He unbuttons your shirt just enough to reveal your breasts, shifting your bra up a little to free your tender tits. Soon his lips play with one of your sensitive nipples, making you blush even harder. You nibble down on your bottom lip trying to suppress all the cries and whimpers coming from your throat, you subconsciously start rocking your hips upwards, trying to grind your groin against your teacher

Bruno’s hand makes its way down to your throbbing sex, his fingers glide slowly on your soft pussy covered with already dampening pink fabric

- Such a good little girl, already all wet for me, - professor Buccellati murmurs against your ear, his voice is velvety deep, you can’t help but open your legs wider giving man full access to your body

Your hands that were previously gripping on teacher’s shirt come higher, timidly embracing signore Buccellati by his broad shoulders. This bashful gesture makes man smile softly, he leans forward in your touch and your nuzzle your face into his neck, the sweet smell his perfume makes you feel even more dizzy

Professor nudges your clit through the fabric of your underwear, forcing thick mewl to escape your lips. He hushes at you softly, soothingly rubbing your lower back with his other hand

- Principessa, you gotta be quiet. Otherwise we’re gonna get caught, and that definitely won’t end up well, - teacher explains and you only nod at his words, nibbling harder into your bottom lip. Man places a quick kiss on your temple, his hands ruck your skirt up and you can feel his fingers hooking the elastic of your panties, tugging them down, easing your underwear down your legs, taking pink garment off of your body

Air of the classroom feels cold against your now exposed slicked folds and you unconsciously try to close your legs, but professor’s slim body between them doesn’t allow you to do so. Brunette’s index and middle fingers glide over your naked cunny, his touches are so light that you can barely feel them. You whine protestingly, bucking your hips upwards to feel your teacher caressing you properly

Signore Buccellati takes pity on you, finally giving in, his fingers part your slicked folds, making you shiver slightly. His thumb traces around your needy clit a few times before gently rubbing it, making you tighten your grip on his shoulders. Man presses his lips against your neck again, littering your skin with small kisses. Your back arches at the feeling of professor’s long finger carefully sliding inside of your virgin pussy. You let out a sweat moan, your toes curl at the newfound feeling of fullness and you cling on your teacher so desperately

Buccellati starts moving, burying his finger to the hilt in your velvety heat, and then fully slipping it out of your body, and then everything repeats. His lips find yours, capturing your bitten mouth in a deep fervid kiss to which you respond eagerly. Man puts his free hand on your shoulder, pushing you slightly, making you lay on the cold surface of the desk

Now professor’s strong figure is now crouched over your trembling form, he places his hand on the desk next to your head propping himself up, while the other one works in between your thighs, pleasuring your stressed tiny body. Signore Buccellati’s face is just in a few inches away from yours, he looks intently at you, reveling in your every smallest reaction, exploring every pretty feature of you. Soon his eyes stop right on yours, making an eye contact, what causes you to blush even harder

You feel your teacher slowly adding second finger, breaching your tender cunny, making you squeal beneath him. His digits stretch your inner walls, setting your mind to the state of euphoria. Professor’s fingers find some special place inside of you, rubbing it with every experienced thrust, all while his thumb works on your clit. Your eyes roll into your skull, and you’re just about to cry out your teacher’s name but you quickly shut yourself up, slapping your hand over your mouth, muffling drooly moans

A shiver runs through your body at the feeling of signore Buccellati’s fingers curling up inside of you. Tears of pleasure run down your temples, getting lost in your hair, your thighs start trembling as you feel warmth suffusing you. Professor quickens the jutting of his hand, slamming his fingers in and out of your needy body

Pleasure comes in waves, crashing over you like a tsunami. You bite down on your fingers, trying your best not to moan as professor works out your orgasm, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers praises and sweet nothings. Your free hand grips on teacher’s shoulder, probably crumpling his navy blue shirt up, but both of you could care less

Professor doesn’t slip his fingers out of your quivering cunny, gently massaging your inner walls as you slowly get off your high. When your brain finally comes back to work you look at your teacher’s handsome face, his lips are curved into satisfied leer as his ocean blue eyes look hypnotically at you, hint of mischievousness sparkle in them

Well, signore Buccellati sure did help you to take your mind off of school

Masterlist | Smut Masterlist

[loving-all-for-loki]

How about a Loki x reader.. Tony moves his baby sister into the compound after something happens to her but he won’t tell anyone what. She refuses to leave her room until everyone is in bed. She comes out one night and is caught by Loki. She immediately apologizes and becomes so shaken up that she drops her things and breaks a glass. Then it hits him why she was secretly moved in. Tony had discovered his little sister living in a bad situation with her now ex and suffered years of abuse. Loki decides then to take his time to make her feel safe again and they eventually fall for each other.

A/N: I hope this works! I got really sappy at the end, but I also don’t know how to end these one shots. This is a bit of a lengthy one, so bear with me.

He’s Not Him

Summary: Tony Stark has enough of his sister’s ex and moves her into the Avengers Tower. After taking notice of her shy and timid behavior, Loki digs deep at her past, making him want to make her feel safe.

Pairing: Loki x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2993

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of domestic abuse, language

Forever Tags: @mm2305

Y/E/N - your ex’s name

*If you or someone you know is being domestically abused, please reach out to 911 or call 800.799.SAFE (7233) for help. Love you all*

-

Tony storms into his sister's apartment. After standing outside of her door for a half hour, he bashed in the door at the the sound of a scream from inside. Frantically, he pushes his way around the furniture and bursts into your bedroom. His eyes go wide at the sight of you on the floor in a ball and your ex boyfriend above you with a fist out. Stark grabs your ex’s fist and rips him away from you, pushing him into your dresser.

“Get the fuck out!” Tony screams.

“Oh, the great Tony Stark is here. What are you going to do? Drop a bomb on me?”

You’ve never seen Tony’s skin turn so red. He storms forward and punches your ex square in the nose, sending him down on the ground. Tony unleashes all his energy until the man is left with a broken nose and multiple bruises.

“Get. Out.”

Your ex runs out of your room, without missing the chance to break a few things, and out of your apartment. You look up out of your ball to see Tony rushing to your side with panic in his eyes. He lifts up your head as you climb into his lap.

“Come here, darling. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” He coos.

You cry into the crook of his shoulder as he rocks you back and forth, his hand on your back.

“I’m getting you out of here,” He says, placing you on your bed, “I’m taking you to the tower with us.”

Tony leaves you on your bed as he gets a suitcase and packs your things. He gathers all of your clothes and some of your possessions like books, drawings, and others. You can feel the tears starting to dry on your skin as you stop crying. Tony doesn’t miss the way you start to uncurl and the bruises on your neck show up. His face drops to see the choking marks on your neck.

“I’m… so sorry, Y/N. I should have been here to protect you.”

You shake your head at him as he joins you on the bed. Tony reaches around your head to undo your ponytail and cover the bruises.

“There, now no one will ask you about them.”

You give him a gentle smile which eases him a little. He leans forward and kisses your forehead before taking your hand and helping you up. Tony and you walk out of your building and into the garage where Happy is in the car. He drops you off for five minutes to go talk to your landlord about you leaving.

“You’re going to be okay,” Happy reassures you.

“Thanks,” you manage to get out.

He gives you a warm smile. He has always made you smile throughout the years. Tony comes back, joins you in the car, and takes off to the tower.

Upon arrival, you look up at the large tower in awe. You’ve visited a couple of times, but that was a year ago since your ex didn’t allow you to see Tony much. It’s always been impressive. You were thankful for Tony letting you live on your own and make something of your own life instead of letting you mooch off of his fortune, but you do regret sometimes not letting him support you more. You were always so proud of him.

Tony carries your luggage as he leads you to the elevators. He looks down at you every so often, noticing the anxious way you bite your nails.

“You’re safe here. We have the best security and you’ll be surrounded by trained assassins and heroes. They’ll protect you, I promise.”

You nod your head at Tony’s words. As much as they help you, you don’t really want to see or talk to anyone. After having your ex break into your house every day for two weeks, you want to be alone except for the occasional visit from Tony.

The elevator doors open and reveal you and your brother to the Avengers who are all lounging in the living area. They turn to look at you with puzzled faces, making you nervous and hide behind Tony’s arm. He lets you stay behind him instead of forcing you to say hi as you exit the elevator.

“Everyone, this is my sister, Y/N. She’s going to stay here from now on so be nice to her,” Tony announces.

Everyone says hi to you but you stay silent behind Tony. He doesn’t question it even though the others look at one another in concern. Steve thinks to himself that you can’t be that rude, but given the way you look, everything must be very different to you from the rest of your life. You look shocked and scared.

Looking at the Avengers, you take in each and everyone’s appearance. Bucky and Nat look the scariest in your opinion and you make a mental note to stay away from them. Sam, Steve, and Clint look nice, but Wanda looks like the sweetest lady in the universe. She has a smile that warms your heart. Turning to your right, you see two very tall men standing and staring at you.

The taller one has blonde hair and a big grin on his face. He has a large stature, but he does not look intimidating. He has a golden retriever energy to him, but the man next to him is a different story. With his pitch black hair and powerful stand, the other man stares at you with daggers in his eyes. He sends shivers down your spine without saying anything.

You drag your eyes away from the intimidating man and follow Tony down the hallway. He leads you to your room where you get settled in, unpacking your clothes and putting away your things. Laying in the bed, you take a big nap which is needed. You feel as if you let out a breath you’ve been holding for days. The idea of being away from your ex finally settles in and you feel the wave of relief wash over your body, letting you drift away into sleep.

You’re woken up by Tony letting you know dinner is being served. He lets you know that you’re not being expected to come out and eat with everyone, which you appreciate. Ten minutes later, he comes by your room and slips a plate of food in your room as he opens the door, letting you eat alone.

Tony returns to the living room by the other Avengers eating and gathered around the couch. He takes his plate and sits next to Pepper who has her own food, smiling at him as he joins.

“So, your sister?” Sam asks.

“Don’t even think about it. She is not to date any of you.”

“Woah, I didn’t say that,” Sam laughs.

“But we know what you meant,” Steve chuckles, rolling his eyes, “She seems shy.”

“She is. You probably won’t get a lot out of her.”

“Can I ask why she’s staying her?”

“No.”

Steve shares a look with Bucky. The elevator door opens and Peter walks into the living room.

“You guys started dinner without me?” He asks, jokingly.

“Early birds get the worm,” Steve laughs.

The group chuckles and keeps eating their food.

“Is Y/N a new Avenger?” Steve asks.

Tony sighs and rolls his eyes at the question. Everyone notices the annoyance in Tony with talking about you and collectively decide to stop asking questions. It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about you much.

“No, she’s not.”

“Who’s Y/N?” Peter asks.

“I’ll fill you in later,” Nat replies.

The day goes by fast and you find yourself staring out at New York in the moonlight. You have always enjoyed the night time. They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but you’ve always found peace and warmth in the New York night. Everyone goes out to party or to bed. It’s a time of joy and relaxment.

You hear the last door shut for the night, signally everyone going to bed. Looking outside of your door, you don’t spot anyone so you sprint outside to the kitchen with your empty dinner plate. Upon entering it, you search the walls for the light switch for about five minutes. There’s no other light than that except for the over. You finally find it and switch it on. As you turn around, you’re startled by the frightening black haired man standing there.

Scared, you drop your plate, shattering it on the tile floor. Your eyes go wide as you start to back up against the wall. Without saying anything, the man takes a step forward, scaring you half to death. Your mind plays tricks on you and all you can think about is your ex breaking into your home. You start to have a panic attack, sliding down against the wall, and curling up into a ball.

You miss the way Loki’s eyes go wide. He watches you descend into an anxiety attack and doesn’t know what to do, knowing he’s who caused it. Quickly, he rushes down the hallways and bangs on Tony’s doors.

“What do you want, Reindeer Games?” He groans.

“Your sister…”

Tony doesn’t wait for another word for following Loki down the corridor. He spots you panicking in the corner of the kitchen and grabs you, lifting you into his lap. You grab onto his neck and pull him close, crying into him. He lifts you up and carries you off to your room without saying a word to Loki, leaving him standing in the kitchen agape.

Not knowing what to do and unable to relax, Loki makes his way to his room and opens up an old laptop Thor had gotten him. After spending thirty minutes just to figure out how to work it, he starts googling things about you. He starts with your name and finds multiple articles on you and Tony, the Stark Industry Golden Children. You left when you were eighteen, wanting to make your own life and not follow in the family’s footsteps. He gives you credit for being yourself, something he had struggled with. He knows the feeling, not wanting to be your family.

Then a certain website catches his eye, Facebook. He finds a profile of you filled with photos and text. There are some of you with friends in the town, a couple of old coworkers wishing you a happy birthday, then there’s a photo of you with a man. There are no other photos of you with him other than this one a couple months ago. He keeps scrolling to find more photos of you with him, but they all stop after that first one. Clicking on something tagged in the caption, another profile pops up.

Y/E/N’s profile. Filled with photos of drunk nights at the club, shirtless gym time, and quotes from misogynistic authors, Loki finds himself despising this man he does not know. He scrolls through finding very little of you in his account, as if you don’t matter as much to him as he does to you. Closing his computer, Loki decided to go check on you. He’s frustrated by whoever this man is, not knowing whether he’s important or not.

Loki peeks into your room to see Tony laying next to you, brushing through your hair with his fingers. Tony looks up and meets him in the eyes. There’s slight anger, but Loki doesn’t feel pushed away. He takes a step in before Tony leans into your ear and whispers. You look up and over to Loki, but you don’t ask him to leave. Loki continues to walk into your bedroom quietly, but with a small gentle smile on his face.

“I’m sorry for scaring you earlier,” he says, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. Thanks,” you mutter.

Your voice is small and timid like a mouse. He can hear the hesitation in your voice, not knowing whether he should talk to you or not.

“Are… you okay?”

“Yes.”

Another awkward pregnant pause erupts between the two of you. Loki looks around your room as Tony continues to hold you. He whispers into your ear again before leaving.

“I’m going to go back to my room,” he says, “call me if you need me okay?”

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Of course, anything for my little sister.”

He kisses your forehead and heads out of your room, leaving you and Loki alone. You don’t mind his presence anymore. After Tony tells you that Loki isn’t your ex and you’re okay, you’ve accepted him.

“I have to ask… who is that man on Facebook?”

Loki gives you a quizzical look. You think for a moment about how Loki got on Facebook and what guy he’s talking about.

“His name is Y/E/N.”

Your body clenches at the sound of his name and Loki takes a step back, looking at you. He’s never seen anyone physically close up just from a name. It may be some Midgardians thing he doesn’t understand, but the way that you are shaking, he thinks otherwise. He sits down next to you and wraps his arms around your shoulders. You lean into his touch as you attempt to calm down.

He’s not here. I’m safe. He’s not here. I’m safe.

You keep repeating that in your head, reminding yourself that you’re safe in the tower like Tony said. Looking up at Loki, you see his concerned face. He cares. This man you barely know cares about you.

He’s not him. He’s not him. He’s not him.

“I don’t think I properly introduced myself. I’m being quite an ass asking you these questions without manners. I’m Loki.”

Loki, not Y/E/N. He’s not him. He’s not him.

“Well, L-Loki,” you say with a stutter, “He’s uh… my ex. Ex boyfriend.”

“Ah.”

He nods as he takes in the information at hand. Your ex, who makes you quiver in fear even over people who have done nothing to her, has no photos of you. He shares his lavish lifestyle that most would presume belongs to a single man. Loki looks back at your depressed ridden face. The color in your skin has drained from you and you’re staring blank cold at the wooden floors under your bed. Loki places a hand on your neck to move your hair and give you a light massage, but you flinch away from him before he is able.

Loki’s never seen so much fear and worry in someone’s eyes before. You jerk away from him muttering yourself, as if it were taking everything in you to not scream. He looks over you to see bruises along your neck where your hair had moved from when you moved. A wave of anger runs through his body, infuriating him. He did that to you. That’s why you’re so afraid of him.

“Did he-”

“Yes.”

Loki rises from your bed and clenches his fists. You see the anger pouring from him and rush to his side before he can storm off. You grab his arms and force him to look at you.

“Please, don’t… don’t do anything.”

“Why shouldn’t I? No man should ever do that to a woman, especially you.”

“Just let it be.”

He releases his fist but the fury in his eyes doesn't. You pull him towards you to make him sit again. Moving in closer, you lean into him. Loki wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. The two of you lay down in your bed, you curled up on him as he held you, running his fingers in your hair.

For some reason, Loki feels as if he has to protect you. The way you ball up gives him this sense of innocence about you. You haven’t done anything to deserve those injuries, just live your life and try to find love. Loki always knew there was a good reason to hate Midgardians, not just for their stupidity and now he’s found it.

The two of you fall asleep without realizing it. The light from the sun peaking in the windows wakes you. Stirring in bed, you look up to see Loki under you, his arms holding you against him by your waist. You're cradled into his chest as his chin barely rests on the top of your head. Loki’s eyes flutter open at the feeling of you moving on top of him. He looks down at you and smiles.

The way the light shines on your face makes you look angelic. Your smile warms his heart and the warmth of your body against him makes his heart jump. You turn over to face him, leaning up on your shoulders over his head.

“Hi.”

“Hello, darling.”

“You slept here.”

“Both of us did, actually,” he laughs.

You drop your head laughing. Loki’s sweet laugh fills the room and blesses your ears. He’s not too bad to be around. He’s quite kind and sweet.

“Thank you for last night.”

“For what? If I remember correctly, I gave you a panic attack.”

“I mean the way you calmed me down and held me. It was needed.”

“Well, I’m glad I could do that for you.”

Loki means it when he says it. Looking at you now, there’s not much he wouldn’t do for you. You don’t deserve what the world gives you, especially that asshole Y/E/N. He would hold you for the rest of time if that meant keeping you safe.

You won’t lie either when you tell Loki he makes you feel safe. Every day before he sneaks off to his room so the others don’t know he spends the night with you, you tell him that he makes you safe. He never believes you. He’s shocked that anyone could feel safe with a monster like him, but after all to you, Loki is not him.

[moon-light-jukebox]

Germs [Reid x Reader]

this gif isn’t mine

Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Rating: Mature 

Category: Fluff and Smut 

Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?) 

A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think!  masterlist

y/n - your name

y/l/n - your last name

italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts

---

I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.

But, fuck, it was hot.

Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.

“Shit,” I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.  

Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.

My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.

Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.  

Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.

I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.

The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’

We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.

Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.

The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.

Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”

“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”

“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”

The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”

“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”

Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”

“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”

“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.

The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”

“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”

Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”

“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.

“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”

Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”

Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”

“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.

Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”

Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”

-

And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.

He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”

I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.

“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”

My head snapped back around. “What?”

Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”

Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.

The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”

I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.

Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.

It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.

"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.

Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”

The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."

“You don’t?” I squeaked.

He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”

I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.

“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?

The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."

-

Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.

Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”

He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?  

After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.

“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.

The highest praise I’ll ever need.

I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.

Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.

But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.

I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.  

It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.

“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.

“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?

I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.

He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”

Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.

His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.

“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”

“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.

“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."

He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."

I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.

The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”

I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”

Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.

“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.

With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.

My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.

Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.

“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”

He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”

My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”

He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.

“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”

He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.

He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.

He made me feel…cherished.

I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.

Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.

His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.

I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.

I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”

He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.

“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.

I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.

His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.

One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”

I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.  

I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.

We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”

I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.

“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”

My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“

He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.

“It means everything to me, Y/n.”

-

I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?

Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.

There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.

I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.

“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”

I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

--

[badassbuchanan]

Secrets and Spies

Request: Could you write something where the reader and bucky have been seeing eachother for a while but no one from the team knows. But they know something is different with bucky so they follow him one night to the readers place and kinda catch them in the act? I don't know if that makes sense

Warnings: smut; shower sex, loud sex, unprotected sex, swearing and some really bad writing skills on my part!

a/n: my first request, yay! I hope it came out okay! it’s different to the writings i’ve done before - I hope it makes sense

also I'm sorry if you didn't want this to be smutty but my thirsty ass brain took the ��catch them in the act’ part a little too literally. I'm just a whore for bucky let’s face it. 

“You coming to the game with us next week, Buck?” The blonde haired Captain asked his childhood friend as he stood with him and Sam in the kitchen.

“Hm?” The long haired winter soldier looked up from his phone which had previously captured all of his attention.

“The baseball game,” Sam frowned at Bucky suspiciously, crossing his arms as he leaned his back against the kitchen worktop. “The one we talked about last week.”

“Oh,” Bucky raised his eyebrows and nodded, lifting his metal hand to scratch the back of his head. “Uh yeah,” he looked back down at his phone which was now buzzing in his hand. “Um, I’ll be there.”

As soon as the words left his mouth Bucky was out the door, lifting his phone to his ear as he softly answered “hello.”

Sam and Steve turned to look at each other with a puzzled look on their faces.

“You know he’s been acting weird right? Even for him.” Sam raised his eyebrows at Steve who rolled his eyes softly, leaning his hands on the counter.

“He’s probably just stressed or something.” Steve dismissed Bucky’s recent behaviour, but even he’d noticed how distant and odd his oldest friend had been acting.

“Steve, I know you always want to see the best in him.” Sam’s voice dropped an octave in seriousness, mirroring Steve’s stance from across the kitchen bench. “But don’t forget what he’s capable of.”

“No, that wasn’t him. That was Hydra.” Steve defended Bucky, hitting his palm against the worktop before lifting it to rub his jaw anxiously. Sam’s words were making him worry.

“Okay, so what if Hydra, starts controlling his mind again?” Sam spoke softly, understanding what the weight of his words were doing to Steve. “Regardless, that doesn’t excuse his sneaking around, all the secret conversations, the frequent disappearing, or the fact that he is constantly distracted.”

“Oh, so it’s not just me who thinks Mr.Bionic is acting like more of a weirdo than usual?” Tony waltzed into the room, removing his sunglasses as he did so.

Steve shot Tony a warning glance but nodded his head anyway. Bucky had been acting strange for a while, it started off with small things, but now he was hardly ever around. And when he was, his mind was distant. Everything Sam said was true and Steve could only ignore it for so long.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y informed me he’s arranged to meet someone tonight.” Tony added, shoving a handful of almonds in his mouth as he did so. “You might wanna keep a close eye on him.” He more instructed than suggested, shrugging his shoulders before leaving the room to answer his ringing phone.

Steve loved Bucky. He believed in Bucky. But he couldn’t deny the small amount of constant doubt that lived in his mind. What if Hydra was still dormant in Bucky’s brain, controlling him with such a subtlety that no one would notice?

Steve let out a sigh, running his hand through his pushed back blonde hair. He was torn between trusting his childhood friend and doing his job as an Avenger to protect the world from potential threats. “Just let me talk to him.”

Sam nodded understandingly as the kettle clicked, signalling the water was done boiling just as he turned his back to grab a mug from the cupboard.

—Bucky’s POV —

“The baseball game,” Sam frowned at Bucky suspiciously, crossing his arms as he leaned his back against the kitchen worktop. “The one we talked about last week.”

“Oh,” Bucky raised his eyebrows and nodded, lifting his metal hand to scratch the back of his head. “Uh yeah,” he looked back down at his phone which was now buzzing in his hand, Y/N’s unsaved number flashing on the screen. “Um, I’ll be there.”

As soon as the words left his mouth Bucky was out the door, lifting his phone to his ear as he softly answered “hello.”

“Hey mister,” The sweet voice cooed through the phone, a bashful smile appearing on Bucky’s face as he leaned against the wall. “You coming over soon? My housemate’s gone out for the night.”

“Yeah, just finished working out with the guys. I’ll have a shower and then make my way to you.” Bucky fiddled with the drawstring of his grey track pants absentmindedly as he spoke.

“Or you could have a shower here,” Y/N spoke in a suggestive tone. Bucky living at the compound and Y/N’s housemate almost always home meant they never got much alone time without having to worry about Y/N’s housemate hearing what they were up to. “We could even have one together.”

Bucky’s eyes almost popped out of his head, her words catching him by surprise as he pushed himself off of the wall to stand up straight. “I’ll be there soon.”

Y/N chuckled at Bucky’s attempt to try and keep his cool, her heart skipping a beat at his excitement. “Okay, see you soon.”

“Okay.” Bucky breathed through a bashful smile. turning quickly to walk back down the hallway.

— Sam and Steve‘s POV —

Bucky walked back into the room in a slight rush.

“Hey, Buck. We need to talk.” Steve looked Bucky up and down, analysing his body language to test his reaction. No matter how busy he was, Bucky always made time for Steve and vice versa. They were always there for each other.

“Yeah buddy, later. I have to go.” Bucky turned to reply to Steve quickly before walking down the stairs out of sight.

Sam turned around to face Steve, mug in hand as he chuckled. He shook his head, looking up at Cap who was frowning in both confusion and concern.

“Okay, we need to find out what’s going on with him.” Steve crosses his arms, biting the inside of his lip as he racked his brain for any and every possible solution to reason Bucky’s behaviour.

— Bucky’s POV —

“C’mon Buck, we still have to cook it.” Y/N giggled softly as she watched her boyfriend dig his finger into the raw brownie batter they’d just finished mixing.

Bucky lifted the chocolate covered finger towards his mouth, licking off the mixture as he shrugged. “Taste good enough to me.” He smiled cheekily, using his metal arm to pull Y/N against his chest.

She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands playing with his hair as she admired his handsome face. Bucky leaned down to press his lips against hers, the sweet taste of chocolate enticing her in.

She moaned against him, tilting her head as Bucky let his tongue run teasingly over her lips. “How about that shower, hm?” She mumbled against his lips, feeling the kiss heating up fast.

Bucky moaned with a nod, feeling his cock stirring beneath his sweatpants. Y/N made a quick move to turn away from him, putting the brownie mixture in the oven.

He couldn’t help but watch her ass as she bent down, the workout leggings she wore left nothing to the imagination. He bravely moved forward, his hand slapping her ass cheekily as she quickly stood back up.

“Hey!” She shot Bucky a glare, smiling at the same time after she made sure to set the timer on the oven. “Save it for the shower.”

Bucky chuckled in amusement as he followed her down the hallway of her house which he’d become so familiar with. He didn’t go many places outside of the compound, and Y/N’s house felt like his special little hideaway from everything and everyone.

Y/N adjusted the temperature of the shower before removing her clothes, turning around to face Bucky as she did so.

Bucky couldn’t help but get distracted as she undressed, watching her every move. She walked towards him when she was left only in her panties, running her hand over his stomach.

“Need some help?” She offered, looking up at him innocently as she tugged on the tie of his sweatpants.

Bucky clenched his jaw as he looked down at her perky tits, nipples hardened in the cold air. His cock twitched at the sight of her bare skin, his metal hand reaching out to palm her breasts.

Y/N reached her hand inside his sweatpants, grabbing hold of his cock as her mouth dropped opened in shock. “Already so hard, Buck.” She smiled widely, slowly pumping his hard member in her hand.

Bucky let out a shaky breath, his hips bucking into her hand as he tugged on her nipple. Y/N felt her arousal dripping onto her underwear from the thought of his cock inside of her.

“Baby stop or I’ll cum.” Bucky grunted, his face screwing up as he grabbed hold of her hand with his flesh one, his metal hand still full of her boobs.

“I don’t want you to cum until you’re inside me.” Y/N spoke against his lips, giving his cock one last squeeze as she felt her pussy start to ache in need.

Bucky’s cock throbbed at her words, his eyes drawn to watch her pull his track pants down his legs. She tugged his underwear down with them, admiring the way his hard length bounced to slap up against his stomach.

Y/N bit her lip, her hands running up his thick thighs and over his abs, pulling his t-shirt up as she went. Bucky helped her out, lifting the material over his head, leaving him completely naked.

Y/N pushed her chest flush against his, leaning up to kiss him teasingly. Bucky felt her hard nipples rub against his bare chest, her soft skin felt so good against his as he held her waist.

She gave him an open mouth kiss before turning around in his arms, still pressed against his body as Bucky’s cock rubbed over her ass.

“Take them off for me, Buck.” She said softly, guiding his hands to the waist band of her panties.

Bucky complied with her request, pulling them down to her knees before she bent over in front of him to take them off the rest of the way, causing his cock to nudge between her bare ass cheeks.

Bucky groaned at the feeling of his tip in her wetness, quickly pulling her hips tightly against him as he refrained from shoving his cock inside of her.

She smiled cheekily, knowing exactly what she was doing to him as she ground her ass against him, his cock saturated in her juices.

Bucky grabbed her upper arm, pulling her to stand back up, his chest flush against her back. He kissed up her neck, his metal hand sliding down between her thighs to rub her folds, immediately saturated in her slick.

“If you want me to fuck you like that, doll, all you have to do is ask.”

“Bucky!” She giggled softly, almost becoming shy at his filthy words. It was still something she was getting used to, Bucky was her first boyfriend.

He chuckled at her response, spinning her around in his arms to face him. He lifted his flesh hand to cup her cheek, pressing his lips against hers.

Y/N immediately kissed him back, relaxing into his touch as Bucky’s hands slid down to the back of her thighs.

His tongue pushed into her mouth the same time as he lifted her off of the ground, wrapping her legs around his waist as she let out a satisfied moan.

Y/N hugged his neck to hold her up, his thick length laying flush between her folds. She whimpered into his mouth, rubbing her hips forward slightly as Bucky walked them into the shower.

The heat of the water hit them immediately, warming their bodies as Bucky pressed Y/N’s back against the tiled shower wall.

“So gorgeous.” Bucky grunted softly, pecking her lips as he pushed his hips forward. Y/N’s pussy started to ache with a dull emptiness, his cock against her folds wasn’t enough to satisfy her. “I love you so much.”

She smiled into the kiss, tugging on his now dampened hair. “I love you, Bucky.” She looked up into his bright eyes, admiring his beauty as Bucky moved his flesh hand down between their bodies.

He grabbed hold of his cock, lining the tip up with Y/N’s entrance. The intense feeling caused her head to drop against his chest, kissing up the skin where his flesh fused with the metal.

Bucky’s heart fluttered at her touch, still so thankful to have found someone who loved and accepted him for him. It was something that he never thought would happen.

“Baby, please move.” Y/N moaned as her pussy clenched around his tip, causing Bucky to snap back to reality from his thoughts. He pushed his entire length inside her slowly, the tightness of her walls constricting him.

Y/N moaned again when he was fully inside of her, her nails digging into the flexed muscles of his back. Bucky stilled inside of her, knowing she’d need a moment for the stretching pain to subside.

“Oh, fuck.” Y/N panted out in pleasure, her throbbing pussy hungry for more. Bucky bent his head to kiss a line from her collar bone to the underside of her jaw.

He began thrusting his hips slowly, allowing her pussy to adjust to his size. “You don’t have to keep quiet baby,” Bucky moaned into her ear, his breath tickling her skin. “We’ve got the house to ourselves remember?” He picked up his pace a little, his fingers digging into her ass so hard she’d definitely have bruised tomorrow. “Let me hear you.”

Y/N’s head fell back against the shower wall, her eyes closing as she let her moans flow freely. Her thighs clamped around his waist, trying to pull him closer as he fucked into her.

Her pussy clenched around his length, the slapping sound of his balls hitting her wet skin filled the room. It only turned Y/N on even more, that and the fact that they didn’t have to keep quiet for once.

“Bucky.” She moaned out his name shamelessly, arching her back which caused their chests to press together.

Water ran over their bodies as Bucky picked up his pace, already feeling his climax approaching as he listened to her moan his name.

Y/N kept up the volume, knowing it was driving her boyfriend crazy. Bucky stepped towards her, practically squashing her against the tiles.

The new position caused his pelvis to rub against her throbbing clit with every thrust. Y/N felt a tingling in the pit of her stomach, the pulsing of her clit making her toes curl.

She moaned breathlessly between thrusts, his pace quickening as she tugged on his hair.

“Oh fuck.” Bucky moaned, his head dropping back as he chased his high, fucking into her fast and hard.

Her pussy clenched around him with every thrust, the feeling of his big cock deep inside of her was something she didn’t want to end.

She moaned like a pornstar for him, her mouth dropping open as she looked into his eyes. Bucky bit down on his bottom lip, keeping his rough side locked away as he fucked up into her.

“Bucky, oh shit.” Her eyes widened in panic, her cheeks covered in a pink blush as she felt her orgasm taking over. “I’m gunna cum.” She cried, head throwing back against the tiles as she rocked her hips into his.

Bucky watched her in awe, always so proud to be the provider of her pleasure. Her hair stuck to her wet body, her breathing shallow as she continued to moan.

He didn’t let up his pace, watching her tits bounce against his skin as he leaned his head back into her neck.

His moans were muffled in her skin, Y/N’s only getting louder as Bucky fucked her through her orgasm.

Her body was so sensitive, the sound of their skin slapping together had grown louder with his erratic thrusting.

Y/N’s pussy throbbed around his silky length, her arousal dripping onto his balls. She turned her head to kiss him, so fucked out and breathless.

Kissing her made Bucky more determined to chase his high, his hands pinning her hips against the wall as he fucked into her.

“Oh, yes.” Y/N moaned loudly, her hands clinging to any part of him that she could. She panted in unison with his thrusting, Bucky’s face screwing up as he chased his high. “Oh, Bucky, fuck.” She cried out when his cock twitched inside of her.

Bucky felt his orgasm about to hit. “I’m about to cum.” He suddenly moaned, hardly even finishing the sentence before he released his load inside of her.

He dropped her legs to the floor, Y/N almost tumbled at how jelly-like her legs felt. She grabbed onto his biceps to steady herself, Bucky’s hands planted themselves either side of her head on the tiled wall.

He went to kiss her softly, missing her lips because of the way she turned her head. A sudden loud noise from outside catching her attention.

— Sam and Steve’s POV—

“Are you sure?” Steve looked over at Sam in the drivers seat with a slight frown of confusion on his face.

“Yes,” Sam nodded insistingly, turning the engine off which would’ve left them in total darkness if it wasn’t for the light illuminating from the house they sat outside of. “This is the last place F.R.I.D.A.Y traced Bucky’s phone.”

“But it looks like a normal house.” Steve’s frown didn’t leave his face as he stared out of the window, scanning the area for any sign of danger. “In a suburban area, full of civilians.”

He didn’t know what he expected to find when he’d agreed to Sam’s ridiculous plan to spy on Bucky. But it sure as hell wasn’t this. The unknown set off a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he wasn’t fond of. A feeling that made him think the worst.

“Maybe Hydra has finally figured out that creepy warehouses attract more attention than normal houses.” Sam half joked with a scoff, turning his body to take off his seatbelt.

“What are you doing?” Steve’s head immediately whipped round to look at Sam with a worried look on his face. Sam could sometimes be hotheaded and jump into things without a plan, which didn’t sit well with Cap.

“I’m going to check it out.” Sam replied matter-of-factly. He knew that Steve would oppose to what he thought was the best plan of action, so he wasn’t going to ask permission, which he realised wasn’t going to work.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Steve pressed his lips together in a line nervously, his eyes darting back to the location where they’d tracked Bucky.

“Okay, why?” Sam dropped his hand from where it had lifted to open the car door and looked over at Steve. He decided he at least respected Cap enough to listen to his Star Spangled reasoning.

“Well for one, if it is a Hydra location the perimeter will be highly alarmed, not to mention the calibre of dangerous assassins that will be waiting inside, you won’t stand a chance.” Steve sighed, thousands of thoughts bouncing around his mind as he ran his hand through his hair stressfully. “And even if it’s not,” Steve’s voice dropped as his eyes grew worried. “Bucky will know we were tracking him.”

Sam chose to stay silent of a moment, something that didn’t happen very often. He knew Steve had just opened up about the real reason he didn’t want to go charging in like a bull in a china shop. He didn’t want to hurt Bucky. He didn’t want Bucky to feel like his two best friends didn’t trust him. Steve didn’t want to betray Bucky’s character and allow him to know that he had his doubts. That he could become Hydra’s Winter Soldier again.

“Okay, we’ll do it your way.” Sam said softly, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“We’ll start by securing the perimeter, then if, and only if, anything seems off, we’ll move in for closer inspection.” Steve instructed directly, only opening the car door once Sam had nodded in agreement.

They’d chosen not to bring any uniforms or weapons, knowing it would only draw more attention to themselves. Making sure to shut the car doors silently behind them, the pair slowly approached the white picket fence surrounding the property.

Sam veered to the left, Steve to the right as they inspected the location. Nothing seemed off. A few lights in different rooms illuminated the house. The curtains were drawn, making it hard for the two avengers to know exactly what was going on inside.

“No sign of movement on the east side.” Steve whispered, loud enough for Sam to hear as he slowly moved to inspect the gate.

Sam looked over at where Cap was, walking casually to meet him, finding no need to be as stealthy as his partner. “I got nothing on this side either.”

Steve sighed, relaxing a little when he saw no sign of danger. He stood up straight and crossed his arms, he was growing more curious by the second.

“Why this house? This family? In this neighbourhood? Who lives here? There must be some significance. I’ll call Tony and get F.R.I.D.A.Y to run the house through the datab-“

“Shh.” Sam quickly lifted his hand, cutting Steve off as his eyes darted from side to side. There was an eery silence in the street, followed by a muffled sound which made Steve’s ears prick up in attention. “Do you hear that?”

The boys made eye contact, frowns covering both of their faces as they slowly turned towards the house. Sam gestured towards the front door with his head, Steve nodding in agreement as they carefully opened the gate and moved in towards the house.

They crept up the garden path, stomachs sinking as the noise becoming more apparent, informing them they were on the right track.

“It’s coming from around the side.” Steve whispered as he pointed his finger, Sam’s eyes drifted to where Cap was pointing with a nod of acknowledgment.

The pair continued on their search, ears on high alert as they followed the sound down the left side of the house, a small passage which was as dark as the night. They stopped when they got to a room illuminated with light, the small open window too high up on the wall for them to see inside.

Low grunts, loud moans and harsh slapping sounds made both of their faces go pale in fear. It had to be Bucky. But they weren’t his moans, they were the moans of a woman. He wasn’t alone. And it sounded like he was torturing her.

“Shit.” Steve couldn’t help but let the language slip passed his lips as he dropped his head in a sigh, his hands on his hips. He tried to give Bucky the benefit of the doubt, but the evidence was stacked against him.

“What do we do now, Cap?” Sam whispered sadly, he wanted Bucky to be innocent just as much as Steve did. Yes, he would wind up the metal armed soldier at every opportunity that he got, but he had grown fond of him.

“We can’t let this go on.” Steve gestured towards the window where the near enough screams of a women were coming from, knowing they had to act fast as he tried to think up a plan.

“Oh, yes.” The girl moaned before Steve could even begin to think, causing both Sam and Steve to look at each other in surprise. “Oh, Bucky, fuck.” She cried out in pleasure, both boy’s brains ticking over as they tried to catch up with what was happening.

“Oh. My. God.” A cheeky smile washed over Sam’s face as a chuckle erupted from his throat. Steve let his face fall in his hands, humiliated and relieved at the same time.

Steve was thankful that his friend hadn’t been taken over by Hydra again, thankful that he wasn’t causing anyone harm. But now, he was stood in an alleyway listening to his best friend have sex.

Steve, still in shock, shook his head as he looked up at Sam who was still softly chuckling.

“I’m about to cum.” Bucky’s sudden moan caused both boys to snap back to the moment, eyes widening as they realised they didn’t want to be in ear shot when their friend reached his climax.

“Go,” Sam said quickly, his hand lifting to softly push Steve when he didn’t move. “Go, go, go.” He added with a bit more urgency, both boys turning to run from the alleyway in such a hurry that they weren’t looking where they were going.

They didn’t even make it more than a couple of steps before a loud crashing sound came from beneath them. “Shit.” Sam sighed, scrambling to pick up the pipes which he’d knocked over in his rush to get away.

Steve turned around with a sour look in his face, watching Sam try to clean up his mess. There was no way all that commotion would’ve gone unnoticed by the couple inside.

Sam gave Steve a knowing look, the only chance they had of escaping was to make a break for it.

Steve nodded, turning to run back down the alleyway with Sam right behind him. They were almost in the clear, close to the front of the house when a metal arm punched across Steve’s face to stop him running, only missing him by an inch.

Sam stumbled into Steve’s back at his sudden halt, the metal hand twisting to grab Steve by his throat. He was pulled around the corner, his back shoved against the brick wall of the house harshly.

“Steve?” Bucky’s face dropped in shock as he let go of his best friend’s throat. He stepped back and looked to the side, noticing a sheepish looking Sam. “What the hell are you guys doing here?”

Steve and Sam both looked at each other before back at Bucky, noticing his wet body only covered by his track pants hanging low on his hips.

“I think the real question is, who are you doing here?” Sam asked cheekily, a cocky smirk on his face which got wiped off as soon as Steve hit his chest in annoyance.

“Bucky, we can ex-“

“How did you- Did you follow me here?” Bucky chose to ignore Sam’s comment, cutting Steve off before crossing his arms as he waited for an explanation.

There was another moment of silence as the two culprits looked at each other once again, saved by a small voice coming from beside them.

“Bucky, everything okay?” Y/N’s soft voice made all three boys turn to face her from where she stood on the porch, a slight whistle coming from Sam as they took in her appearance. Her hair was still wet, her body only covered by the shirt that Bucky had been wearing earlier that night.

Bucky sighed, running his flesh hand through his wet hair, his metal one firmly on his hip. “Yeah, baby. It’s just my friends.” Bucky said the word ‘friends’ through gritted teeth as he glared back at them.

“Oh,” Y/N perked up a little as she pranced down the steps to where they were, almost hiding behind Bucky as she cuddled his flesh arm. “I apologise for my appearance. If Bucky had told me you were coming I would’ve been more prepared.” She giggled softly, her reaction to the whole situation made all three boys frown in confusion.

They’d expected her to yell, to ask what the hell they were doing around the side of her house, to kick them out, to yell at Bucky for telling his friends about them without consulting her first, to just walk back into the house and ignore them. In that moment, Bucky knew she was a keeper.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Y/N spoke as the two boys opposite just blinked, half surprised that Bucky actually kept such a secret from them for this long. “I’m Y/N.” She held out her hand.

“Steve Rogers.” Steve immediately responded, stepping forward to shake her hand with a sweet smile.

“I’m Sam.” Sam followed, shaking her hand as

Bucky, still half confused about why his best friends were there, wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist. “So are you two-“ Sam dragged out the words.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Bucky responded shortly, Y/N’s heart fluttering at the word, something that was only shared between the two of them until now.

“Well we should all probably move inside, it’s a bit chilly out here tonight.” Y/N offered sweetly, gesturing towards the front door. “I hope you guys like brownies.”

taglist: 

@harrysthiccthighss​

@annestine​

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙍𝘼𝙏 𝘽𝙊𝙔 │ 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

◦ request(s):

I’m sorry but I NEED more edgy Karl, I’m literally in love with it <3 I wanna date him so BAD 

More edgy karl where he calls the reader bunny or puppy or a pet name like that 👀👀

◦ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

◦ warnings: nsfw (minors dni), biting, domination, crude language, semi-public sex, asphyxiation, submission, slight degradation, frat boys

◦ word count: 3558

◦ links: ao3, main: genethequeen

a/n:  Thank you for all your support on this series! I love reading all your comments and suggestions! To find all previous parts, click the ao3 link above or explore the edgy!karl hashtag. If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

As a reminder, my asks are always open for requests, comments, or just to chat :) Happy reading!

You clicked your phone off, shoving it into your pocket and lifting your eyes to the mumbling crowd of your fellow classmates filing into the lecture hall. Spring break was nearing by the second, and it was obvious that everyone wanted to get in and out as soon as they could. You had previously decided that staying on campus was probably the cheapest and easiest plan for break.

It could only be a coincidence that you would spot the tall, willowy figure you’d tried to reach the week prior to no avail. His eyes were a mirror of grey smoke as his face showed an unhuman-like lack of emotion. You could already tell his headphones were probably blaring in his ears as he cut himself off from the incoherent chatter around him. 

Karl had become almost a constant in your life, the mutual late-night calls and mid-day escape nearly a drug for you as you came to depend on it. It got to the point where you’d casually mention to your roommate you couldn’t meet for lunch because you’d already had your plans with Karl. 

Yet, just as he was installed in your life, he suddenly had dropped away from you. Your once steamy messages had grown cold and vague on his end. No longer would you randomly receive a notification that he was nearby after you got out of a lecture, instead it was radio silence and a close to jaded response. He’d become a ghost in your class, barely making eye contact with you when he once only used to show up to kick your seat. You knew the two of you weren’t anywhere near anything to write home about, yet it was almost uncharacteristic for him to avoid you for as long as he had. 

You swallowed your pride and began to edge through the crowd toward him. As you brushed your fingertips against his hoodie sleeve, it was almost as if your sense of touch had hungered for him too in his absence. You almost instantly wanted to draw the fabric of his jacket around you, enveloping yourself in his scent. He peered at you over his shoulder, removing an earbud and raising an eyebrow at you almost nonchalantly. The crowd parted like the Red Sea around the two of you as he looked down at you. His grey irises swirled to life as you straightened up to lay your dignity at his feet.

His lip was split, something you’d figured had been a result of the dry, changing seasons, until you spotted another bruise on his face, your mind flashing back to him peering up at you from the bathroom floor with his first black eye. This time, his features were dark and stormy, and you’d be lying not to admit that his sulky façade was rather alluring to you. 

You drew in a breath, wondering where your previous confidence had fled. “Are you okay?” Was all you could think to manage, his eyes concentrating on you. 

He let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, voice heavy with husk. It was this tone that could send your knees to jelly at any moment. “You miss me, Hancock?” He chided, a sly smirk drawing on his lips. A blush grew on your cheeks, realizing how this probably looked for you. 

You chewed the inside of your cheek, dropping your voice into an almost whisper as to not disrupt anyone walking around the two of you. “Are you ghosting me now?” 

He ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling his dark locks as he bit his bottom lip to avoid laughing at you. His smug appearance was beginning to set fire to your blood. He took a step forward, his arm dropping from lazily holding onto his backpack strap to ghost his fingers over your hand at your side. 

Before you knew it, you were tugging him into the bathroom behind you. 

It was as if someone had flipped a switch and you’d broken out of a daze as Karl’s body intertwined with yours, pinning you beneath him and the plastic stall divider in the bathroom. The two of you were a fumbling mess, tugging at each other’s clothing looking for more friction and something to relieve the tension that had grown between you. You dug your fingers into his hair as he reached down to grip your ass, pulling your hips roughly against his. His tongue slipped into your mouth, the sensation of him closing more distance between the two of you made you want him more. You tugged at his jeans, ready to commit yourself to whatever he wanted.

He pulled away from you, your lips burning without his connection. He swiftly bunched your skirt up at your waist as you quickly unbuttoned his pants.  He wrapped his hand around the back of your knee, hoisting your leg up against his side once again before driving himself into you. You groaned as he filled you up, feeling every inch of him as he retracted from you only to press himself deeper into you. 

He let out a deep moan, his lips finding yours once again as he began to grind against you, snapping his hips against yours to draw out your pleasure. You tugged his bottom lip between your teeth and curled your hips at his movements. Each of his sounds were the equivalent of a reward for you, you wanted to earn his approval and get him off almost more than you wanted yourself to. You were thankful for the slight height difference between the two of you as you wrapped yourself beneath one of his arms to grip onto his shoulder, pulling yourself up against him.

Karl’s hand gripped the top of the stall wall, his hips relentlessly bashing against yours, your mind blurring at each of his movements. Whatever frustrations you had previously encountered were quickly dissipating as your hands dug into Karl’s shoulders, his nose in the crook of your neck as his breath cascaded across your chest. 

The feeling of his tongue ring against your skin was a picture of solitude as you clawed at his clothed back, silently begging him to ravage you. His hand moved to grip your neck, pushing your head back against the plastic wall. His cheeks were flushed red with exertion, his eyes in a hazy smear of lust. His lips melded against yours in a searing kiss, before his teeth moved to dig into your shoulder. “Look at you, begging me to rail you in a public bathroom like a slut,” he chuckled darkly, his breath igniting goosebumps that spread across your body like wildfire. He pressed his lips against the sensitive skin behind your ear before continuing, “I’m sure your colleagues would love to know how submissive you are.” 

He pulled back to make eye contact with you again, wanting to see his effect on you. You groaned as he squeezed his hand, your breath hitching in your throat as he drove himself deeper into you. Seeing his blissed-out, slack-jawed expression alongside his now rapid movements, made stars flash behind your eyes as the urge to cum built within you. He pressed his lips against your flushed cheek as one of his hands returned to the wall behind you, his lips traveling to the crook of your neck as he moved in an upward motion. His newfound momentum sent you clenching around him as you chased your own high, wrapping your leg around his waist. Another moan ripped through your body. 

“God, I love how needy you are for me, bunny,” he almost growled in your ear, sending you over the edge unintentionally. He continued to ride against you, drawing himself to finish as you drew him back to kiss him again in a tangle of lust and bliss. After his release, he rested his forehead against your shoulder as the two of you fought to catch your breath. You almost didn’t want him to pull out yet.

He detached from you reluctantly, the two of you straightening your clothes as you pretended you weren’t struggling to stand on your wobbly knees. Your fingers reached up to touch your sore lips still buzzing from the feeling of his rough touch. You felt colder now as the mix of your and Karl’s fluids ran down your thighs, making you feel even more like he had reminded you who you begged for. 

-------------

You weren’t sure how you found yourself on the doorstep of Karl’s fraternity, but there you were, ringing the doorbell as various members were packing their cars to leave. You knew Karl was still around, but you’d figured a surprise visit wouldn’t hurt. Plus, after a mutual friend of yours spent the morning talking about a party there, your interest was piqued. 

The heavy, wood door popped open, revealing a tall man with broad shoulders. He looked busted up like Karl had previously been. His eyes lit up at the sight of you, straightening up his shirt as if you would care. You sent him a small smile in an attempt to humor him. “Can I help you?” He quizzed in an almost overly polite manner, slicking a hand through his hair. 

You bit your lip slightly. “I’m looking for Karl?” You asked more than stated. Frats were nearly the foil to Karl’s aura. 

The man’s eyes narrowed in disbelief slightly. “Karl?” His brows furrowed as his gaze traced over you again. You wanted to chuckle, thinking about how Karl would react when you would recount this to him later. “Karl Karl? Like… skinny, nail polish-” 

“I’m not sure what’s not clicking for you,” you stated, cutting him off as you sent him an amused look. 

His face dropped slightly, clearing his throat as if he was embarrassed. The man stepped to the side, now speaking at the speed of sound about how close he was with Karl. You nodded along to his words, looking around the grand foyer as he led you further into the house. It felt like there were staircases everywhere and Brothers here and there shoving different articles of clothing into bags like they hadn’t done laundry since winter break. 

In the midst of the last few people leaving the premises, Karl stood in sweatpants with a box of cereal discussing something with another guy. His eyes moved in your direction fleetingly as if he was checking who had come to visit. Seemingly expecting someone’s mother, he didn’t pay any mind to you until you watched the gears in his head click into place and his eyes snapped back to you with an almost bewildered look. “KARL,” the man beside you called to him. Karl handed the box to the guy he was talking to and made his way towards you. A few of the other guys gave you a once-over as they were leaving, something not unnoticed by Karl. 

“What are you doing here?” Karl inquired, fronted and uneasy as he looked around a bit. 

You faked a coy persona. “I figured you needed help packing,” you cooed, sending him a wink. Karl fought not to smirk, opting to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something back. 

The man beside you moved to wrap an arm around Karl, eyeing you beside him now. Your eyes went wide, flashing a look of confusion to Karl, whose deadpan gaze was cased toward you. “Where have you been hiding her, stud muffin?” The man joked, pinching Karl’s cheek. Karl shrugged him off. 

“Don’t you have a plane to catch?” Karl grumbled, making sure to put himself between you and the man. 

The man laughed. “Is Karl any good in bed?” He directed at you suddenly and off-topic as if it had been burning in his mind since meeting you, making you choke back a laugh. 

“Alright,” Karl muttered, half gesturing you upstairs. 

“Have a good break, Jacobs. Don’t run your mouth while I’m gone,” the man joked, voice dripping with a dark kind of venom. He walked backward slightly before turning and leaving the house. You followed Karl to the second floor, your mind racing with questions yet a sense of pride had fluttered within you at the fact that Karl definitely won whatever fight he and the man had been in previously. You cleared your throat slightly as you followed him down one of the hallways. “Who was that guy?” 

Karl looked back at you slightly. “Just some douchebag that lives here.” You chuckled slightly at his words. “That’s his room,” he stated, lazily pointing towards one of the open doors as he walked. You grabbed his arm, pulling him through the threshold of the guy’s room. The walls were plastered with various trophies and certificates. “What are you up to?” Karl raised, crossing his arms and watching you move around the room. 

“And he just left, right?” You asked, plopping down on the edge of his bed. Karl inhaled deeply as if understanding where you were headed. 

He wet his lips. “Yeah, he took a bunch of the guys home too.” You hummed in response to his answer, running your finger along the design of the duvet. Karl leaned against the open door, peering out to see if anyone else was around, but the noise downstairs had silenced. 

You crawled further onto the bed, laying on your side as you peered up at Karl. “Were you the one that beat the shit out of him?” Karl only shrugged in response, but his eyes were dancing with amusement. “You know, you were kind of mean to me in the bathroom yesterday,” you beckoned, sighing slightly before continuing. “Calling me a slut and whatnot. Is that up to par with the Tri Phi values?” 

Karl snorted. “Kappa Alpha Order actually. We’re a gentleman's fraternity, so historically yes.” You chuckled at his words, shaking your head slightly. You were still rather appalled to find out he was a Brother. 

“That guy was kind of a dick,” you mentioned lightly. A devious smirk threatened to break Karl’s calm exterior. You sat up, kicking your shoes off and letting down your hair. “We should teach him a lesson,” you chided, tugging the flesh of your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked at him. 

Karl crossed his arms, seemingly weighing the consequences of his words. “I don’t know, baby…” He murmured, yet his tone suggested you had already convinced him. 

“Awe, is Todd gonna be upset if you fuck me on his bed? In front of all his stupid high school trophies?” You provoked, making him chuckle darkly. He wet his lips as you sat up, nearly begging him to join you. 

Karl rolled his eyes, kicking the door shut with his foot and climbing over you on the bed. You were quick to top him though, much to his surprise. “You’re a bad influence,” he groaned. He gripped your forearms smugly, pulling your hands to settle on either side of his head. His lips pressed against yours hungrily as if to cleanse your dirty words. 

One of his strong hands slipped against your thigh, grabbing at your ass and urging you to grind against him while the other settled in the crook of your neck. You kissed him brazenly, your need pulsing through your body with your new-found friction. He moved beneath you, smiling against your greedy mouth, knotting his fingers into your hair. You felt him getting harder with each of your movements. You fisted your hands in his jacket as you pulled away from him curling your hips to find your sweet spot. His hand explored your body, gripping your breast as he sucked at the thin skin against your collarbones, moaning into your hair.

God, he wasn’t even inside of you but his encouragement was a high you wanted to ride as long as you could. His fingers dug into your hips and you half hoped he would leave bruises again. You wanted him to mark you. 

You moved to press your lips against his neck, raking your teeth against the sensitive skin. He moaned at your actions, fingers yanking your shirt free from where it was tucked into your pants, giving his hands more roaming space. Each of his groans of approval sent heat to your core and an urgency of wanting more of him. Your hands slipped beneath his sweatshirt, slipping it over his head before he leaned up to capture your lips against his again. You pushed him back onto the bed, pulling your own shirt off as his hands threatened to tug at the lacy material. 

Despite being trapped between your thighs, Karl was still clearly in control of the situation as he ground his hips up against yours. Both your jeans and Karl’s sweatpants were discarded soon after. You went to slip out of your underwear but he stopped you, something you were somewhat thankful for because, frankly, you didn’t wear the set of lingerie for it to just be discarded right away. 

His expression flickered to excitement as your hand instead wrapped around the base of his cock, pumping a few times before you sank onto him, a moan dragging through the both of you. He smiled lazily, his perfect teeth glistening up at you. Veins ran near the tattoo on his neck as his chin tilted up in pleasure as you began to move against him. You ran your fingers into your hair as you bobbed on top of him, your hips rolling against his to draw out ungodly noises from him. He reached one of his hands behind him to grip onto the headboard for some kind of anchor. His other hand dug into your hip, the two of you moving to bring each other closer to climax. 

You rocked against him roughly, driving him deeper into you. You could help but rake your nails down his body, causing goosebumps to litter his chest and a groan to hiss from between his lips. You slowed your pace, only to slide one of your hands up to wrap around his neck. A dark expression clouded behind his eyes as if daring you to proceed with your malicious intentions. Pride swelled within you at the knowledge that you could pleasure him this much. Sure, the two of you usually had great sex, but this time it was you who was drawing it out of Karl. 

You applied pressure and his hand moved to wrap around your wrist, his head tilting back again as his teeth dug into his lower lip, your hips grinding against him slowly, driving him deeper into you. Sweat had begun to pool at his hairline and near his brow, his cheeks reddening from the stimulation. “You’re so hot,” you almost growled, making his eyebrows perk up, a pleasantly praised expression flashing across his features. You rode him harder, making him moan your name as if it were a curse. 

You leaned down, connecting your lips in a searing kiss. Karl pushed himself to sit up, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you reached for your orgasms. His teeth dug into your shoulder as your nails dug into his back. At the new angle, he had found your sweet spot and the tension was beginning to unravel deep within you.  “Fuck, I’m close,” he groaned, almost reluctantly. Your head dropped back slightly as you felt each movement of his shooting electricity through your body. Your fingers moved to drag through his hair, tugging at his locks and invoking a string of raspy moans to fall from his lips.

Your toes curled as you finally reached your orgasm, calling out his name and feeling him release as well, riding out your pleasure. You breathlessly sank further into his arms, his chest rising as he savored the rest of his orgasm. The two of you slumped back against the bed, Karl’s arm resting beneath your head. “I half expected a pin-up on the ceiling, not gonna lie,” you mumbled, your voice jagged. 

Karl laughed. “He moved it downstairs for a party,” he joked. 

“Charming,” you jeered. After a beat of silence, something crept into your mind. “Do you think I’m the only girl to finish in this bed?” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Karl’s face break into a smirk. “I’m not sure, I usually only hear him.”

Tags:

@mrwinemaker  @ madsbbg