#he's got a heart of gold and he extends it to all his bros | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

duskholland · 4 years ago

Text

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

#tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #frat!tom #frat!tom holland #frat!tomfic #smut #alternate summary for this is: tom has a raging b*ner for 16k straight

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papers4me · 3 years ago

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Fruits Basket Manga Review , ch 110

The writer doesn’t need to rush to akito (antagonist) & give us quick background exposition & escalate her mentality to the exploding moment, simply cuz tohru (the protagonist) isn’t emotionally in her most vulnerable moment yet. Tohru’s issues will be presented deeper with each pov chapter she’ll have. So what should the writer do now?

This is a connected plot, meaning the emotions belonging to the previous chapter are still lingering & needs to be dealt with. There is no stupid laughing & cooking or even dumber momentarily amnesia. Nope! There is this:

-The Art of Writing Slow-Burns: (Lingering Emotions:)

Last time kyo hugged tohru thro the sheets. sth he wouldn’t do if it weren’t for the heartbreaking moment of tohru’s tears & the reason behind them. Why wouldn he do it? cuz he believes he’s the reason of her pain & is setting his mind on leaving her & being imprisoned as a punishment. He wouldn’t do it cuz he loves her but he did it cuz he loves her. why? cuz love is illogical. Kyo’s heart moved him effortlessly to embrace her & “ his tenderness covered her pain” as the writer put it at the end of ch109.

Last time tohru hugged kyo thro the sheets, sth she wouldn’t do if it weren’t for the comfort of his warmth enveloping her loneliness & providing safety & a home. A home can a person. Why wouldn she do it? cuz Tohru is someone who hides pain behind a smile, someone who thinks she’s ugly & unlovable cuz she’s grieving still after all this time. She’s thinks she’s a burden. But here she confessed to kyo unprompted or advised by anybody. He only asked a fleeting question. but tohru cant hide who she is friom him anymore. Still, he accepted her & tenderly held her thro the sheets & she threw her body at him, she initiated the hug.

The sheet hig is the biggest emotional moment between kyo/tohru yet. It altered how they feel for each other cuz in that moment tohru’s mask fell & kyo was the most honest with himself emotionally. That’s not sth you move from with the stupid ED song. They both try to carry out normally afterwards cuz they live together after all. The slightest touch brings..... sexual tension!!! it was so bad poor yuki left the house running!!!!!!!!

The writer cleverly escalates the sexual tension as they awkwardly try to find a talking topic, then dissolves it a bit when kto asks if tohru wants to go out together & where, then escalates it when tohru suggests buying eggs cuz she’s awkward, then dissolves it when kyo grumpily agrees but this is just grocery shopping” not a fun going out”, the escalates it when tohru said she’s happy for just bring together with him regardless of the location & kyo looses it! sexual tension explodes!

The target of the slow-burn isn’t the characters... the target is the audience! the writer plays with their emotions & cleverly puts the audience in a place where they desperately want these two idiots together but still remember why they aren’t! that’s very important. Having the readers cheer for a romantic relationship includes the readers understanding the obstacles ahead & how big they are & still cheer. If the obstacles are meh~ the readers will find the couple unrealistic, if the obstacles are so big & the couples emotions aren't buildup properly, then the couple themselves will feel meh~. Glad kyoru survived such writing mistakes both manga & anime ( anime hurt their characters more than their relationship).

-Yuki wants to move on from the unofficial son third wheeling his mom & her man:

The writer jokes abt yuki admitting he felt as a son watching his mon & her bf. I love tha this joke becuz it cleverly addresses the following points:

it is cleverly weaved in with the kyoru incident from last chapter. Sth happen & yuki doesn't know what is & doesn't want to! Yuki represents the audience I talked abt in the slow-burn point above. He is us. He’ll cheer for them to be together & will be so frustrated when they can’t. It adds to yuki confronting kyo at the climax!!! You see in the anime kyo/yuki stopped interacting much in se03. Then tada~~ big fight when it’s a must! & can’t be escaped... Here we still have kyo/yuki moments despite each boy moving away from his issues being the fault of the other. Basically better writing.....

The writer cleverly used this to address that yuki still feels like tohru’s son sometimes despite being more independent now, which is natural as you cant switch ur feelings with a button. But also the writer doesnt stay in this moment long & use it to build the next moment.. yuki/Aya , yuki/machi & aya/mine.... sadly all there dynamics are shortened in the anime like kyoru’s.

-I don’t think yuki/Aya moment suffered much from the cuts, the entire school parents meeting ep us enough to reconcile the brothers. Aya defended yuki that day & so did yuki. He completely accepted him & stood up to him in front of the mom.

- More aya/mine would’ve been good to see & I would’ve preferred it to yuki/motoko moments in the anime that served nothing. but aya/mine too are stand alone story. They’re the most alike couple in a healthy way. Aya is the guy who protected his woman the most. simply cuz he’s the snake. snakes are secretive. he kept her to himself, even from yuki!!! impressive.

- What I lament from the cut of this mini yuki adventure?

1- This: ( yuki’s facial expressions) This is sth the anime fears, either cuz (a) pretty yuki is 100% pretty all the time, so no expressiveness cuz it leads to showing eyebrows & hiding them under layers of hair is the A.B.C of pretty characters... (b) Yuki in the anime is a prince 98% of the time, except with kyo (they got rid of this in se03 & give them one honest/ugly moment together) & with kakeru (one tiny moment in se03 in match’’s focus ep & then quickly back to prince yuki!)..., ugh!!!!!! I hate how yuki is prince thro & thro in the anime!!that’s why they couldn’t get rid of any motoko content!!! he’s a prince there... heck! school girls float after him the graduation ceremony... what’s up with that!! lol.

2-. This: ( machi with the toy that tohru/kisa/kagura/momiji & kiro like! so cute!!! also, foreshadowing yuki’s future chosen extended family! (his bro & his wife), (yuki & his wife) & best friend/his brother in law! Also, yuki is so himself! no glitters, no bubbles & no pretending anger! <3

Side Notes:

The lovely @mizzraynelly made notice kto’s speech in ch109 abt not vising his mom’s grave! Even tho it’s such a minor line, it’s one of the biggest cuts that foreshadow the accumulation of kyo’s guilt towards his mom. Kyo’s thing is guilt towards ppl he loves & fear of hurting them, by keeping this feeling alive in readers’ minds, the writer is making sure that the climax will hurt like sharp knives cuz the readers are on the same wave liength as kyo!!! epic buildup consists of tiny subtle pieces!

Luckily, kyoru as a ship felt so strong in both manga & anime despite the later cutting half of their moments. Why? cuz the chosen cuts didnt affects the romantic relationship...no... the cuts affects the characters’ own personal struggle... most precisely tohru. Kyo’s own character struggles had better luck in the anime despite the cuts, simply cuz (a) was drawn with very expressive emotions & the anime team lingered on them in his scenes. (b) His character design as a whole was very expressive, the anime team didnt give him constant wide eyes like tohru & didn’t fear expr4essivness will affect for his “beauty “ like yuki. (c) kyo was given one ep per season for his issues which altho not much but way better than tohru (d) most important: kyo’s issues are very universal & very relatable” feeling guilt, mistakes & choosing wrong. That’s sth we all do!!! Tohru’s thing is grieve: this is very personal & most ppl experience it differently.

I love kyo’s oufit!!! we have a hint of this moment in se03, ep 10 when yuki was fighting kyo... but they made yuki see them shopping as opposed of him seeing them being sexually charged!

I’m so mad this kyoru moment is cut!!!!!! tohru as a woman with pending sexual emotions is so refreshing & underrated in the trope of “ girl saves guys”. Also, it contradicts the pure mom image that’s been suffocating her since se01 ep 1!!!!! oh now i know why it’s cut... That’s why! momma tohru is so pure for such things & only when it’s the last two eps, then will allow her to be a woman choosing to live away with her man by her own desire! Why the anime only allow things ti happen when there’s no escape!!! I’ve always felt tohru/kyo is the type of couple to be expressive emotionally & sexually with each other based on seeing that ALL of their romantic interaction involves body language & I’m so happy there’s a canon proof so early before the future glimpse in finale!!!!!!

I liked the aya-story, but it felt like the typical “ lesson of the day” formula, so I didnt analyze it much, but I enjoyed the brotherly interaction so much!! It had a gold mine of yuki being himself & so nit a prince! Im so happy I saw it! <3.

Every time yuki looked expressive is a happy moment for me!

#Fruits Basket #anime only #fruits basket manga #manga review #manga spoilers #sleepy paper #ch 110

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elrw24 · 3 years ago

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When I first laid eyes on you...Part 1.

Summary: Your friend/neighbor invites you to a party where he invited Scott Evans and Scott brings Chris Evans along. Chris sees you singing karaoke and feels like there was an instant connection between you two.

Chris Evans x Reader

Fluff, implied smut

*Side Note: this my first post ever, sorry if it’s so long. I’ve just been playing with this idea. Let me know if you guys like where this is going and I’d love to write more :)

It was a bright Wednesday morning and you were walking your French Bulldog, Blue and you could see your friend/neighbor, Mark walking his Frenchie too. He waves at you from afar and you meet him halfway to have your Frenchies play while you two catch up. “Y/N!! Good morning pretty girl!” Mark says. “Morning Mark, I haven’t seen you in a couple of days, how have you been?”. “I’ve been good, I just got back from LA a couple of days ago, that’s why I haven’t been around. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you...I’m having a get together on Friday night, I have a couple of friends coming in from LA and some friends from my old hometown in Massachusetts. I wanted to see if you wanted to come over!” Mark asks. “I don’t know Mark, I’ve been feeling bummed since I called off the engagement...” Mark cuts you off and says, “Exactly why you need a night out Y/N. It’s been 6 months....that’s half a year, I think you deserve a night out to let loose and finally leave that bullshit behind. He’s a piece of shit who cheated on you and doesn’t realize what he’s missing out on. So, I’m begging you...please come on Friday! We’re going to have drinks, dinner, some card games, and karaoke. Plus, you never know maaaaaybe you’ll meet someone that night!”. “Yeah...I’m not holding my breath on meeting someone...but I guess you’re right. I deserve this. Just let me know what time you want me over and what you want me to bring.” “You’re a doll, Y/N! Can’t wait to see you on Friday!” Mark says. You guys continue to chat and let the Frenchies play before heading off to your house to go get ready for work.

The week flies by and Thursday night, Mark texts you “Hey doll, just wanna remind you, party starts at 8pm. Don’t worry about bringing food, just bring yourself and your alcohol of choice! And don’t forget...there’s gonna be tons of good looking guys at this party, so get your flirting game back up lol!” You laid in bed and groaned...you loved your friend Mark for wanting to see you happy again and getting you back in the dating field, but you were so nervous to get your heartbroken again. After all, you did spend 10 years of your life with a guy who you thought you were going to marry and grow old with and he turned around and cheated on you. You decided to reply to Mark, “Oh great...I think my flirting game is outta shape Mark...thank goodness for tequila cause that’s what’s going to get me through your party! Can’t wait to hang out though and meet your friends!” You there and decided you weren’t going to think too much about it and just go with the flow.

Your day at work on Friday goes by quickly and before you know it you’re at home by 4pm and with time to spare to get ready for the party. You get home and go about your normal routine of feeding Blue and taking him for his evening walks. You shower and you’re in your room wrapped in your fluffy pink towel, curly hair dripping wet and staring into your closet. What the hell do I want to wear to this party? It’s casual...but you still want to make sure you look good... you pulled a few outfits from your closet and and tried a few on, Blue laid on your bed watching you try on your outfits. You decided on some skinny jeans cuffed at your ankles, a black v-neck shirt and your go-to white low top converses. You decided on your favorite ankle bracelet, you always found it sexy to see a cute bracelet hanging off your ankle. You fix your hair, leaving your curls loose and decided on some light makeup. Your beautiful almond shape eyes stood out with the brown and gold eyeshadow that you had on, light blush and your glossy lips. You spritz on your “Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue” on turn to face your dog, Blue. How do I look bubba? Momma is nervous to meet some new people...tell me I’m gonna be fine. And as if Blue understood you and on cue he barked and licked your nose. You grabbed your jean jacket, just in case it was cold walking back home at night, grabbed your purse, keys, phone and how to forget your favorite tequila.

You walk across the street to Mark’s house, you see a couple of cars in his driveway and parked in front of his house and before walking in you take a deep breath...you’ll be fine...time to let loose. You open the door to Mark’s house and shout his name, you’re instantly greeted by his Frenchie, Lola. Mark comes up, clearly already tipsy, gives you a big bear hug, “Y/N! You look good girlllll, welcome to the party!!!! Come on, let’s go into the kitchen to put your stuff down and let me introduce you to my childhood friend, Scott. He’s making some mixed drinks and let me tell you...they’re the fucking best!!” You laugh and just slap his arm, “Alright, mister party host let’s get that drink.” You walk into the kitchen and see this tall guy mixing drinks and looking so adorable, gives you the biggest smile, “You must be Y/N! Mark couldn’t stop raving about his friend who was about to come over and I’ve heard that you have an amazing voice for when it comes to karaoke. We’re gonna have to do a duet! What’s your poison? What kind of drink do you want?” He asks. “And you must be Scott. Nice to meet you, I’m not a picky drinker, how about some tequila with pineapple juice? But before we start anything...we need to welcome my presence with....TEQUILA SHOTS!!!!” You laugh as you grab your bottle of tequila and pour 3 shots for you guys, you chop up some limes and grab the salt. “Alright boys, here’s to a very fun and much needed night!” You say and you all lift your shot glasses up, lick the salt off your hands, take your shot and then suck your limes. You all shiver and laugh as the shot starts to make your insides feel warm. You start to think, hey this isn’t going to be so bad. This is gonna be a fun night. You see tons of friends in the yard, some in the basement, so many games going on. You stay close to Mark and Scott for the night, you decided to go into the kitchen and make some more drinks for you guys and when you turned your back to make them you hear Mark shout, “AYYYYY! Cap you made it!!”, Scott jumps in, “Bro, I thought you got lost!”. You hear the deep voice say, “Hey man! Thanks for having me, and yeah bro almost got lost...had to swing by and pick up some beer. Hope you all like Heineken!”. Scott says, “Since you made it bro, you gotta have a welcome tequila shot, as my new friend Y/N, likes to call them!” You come back into the dining room with your drinks and stop to look at the tall man standing with Mark and Scott. He was tall, had dark hair slicked back, a perfectly trimmed beard, the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen. He wore jeans, a blue t-shirt that fit perfectly around his strong arms, classic converses and stood there with his hands in his pocket. When he looked up at you with those deep ocean blue eyes and beautiful smile, you felt like the world was moving in slow motion. It wasn’t until Mark said, “Y/N...this is Scott’s brother, Chris. They’re my good friends I grew up with in Massachusetts. Chris, this is my amazing friend, Y/N.” As you put the drinks down, Chris extended his hand out to you, “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He gave you the biggest smile, so genuine and sweet. You reached your hand out to his and shook hands, and you immediately felt an instant spark and connection in your handshake, and as if he felt the same thing you looked up and his deep ocean blue eyes looked up and yours and he stared at you. “Nice to meet you too, Chris.” You shyly said back.

Chris POV:

Shit...I’m running late, I still gotta run to grab some beer for the party. Our old friend, Mark is having a party and mentioned that he’s going to have some card games and karaoke, not that I plan on singing karaoke...that’ll be more of Scott’s thing tonight. Maybe if I have enough drinks and the right song is playing, I’ll be bold enough to sing. I pull up to Mark’s house and walk in and immediately hear his voice “AYYYY! Cap you made it!!” and then Scott voice “Bro! I thought you got lost!”. I laugh when I see how they’ve clearly been drinking for a while now and are both tipsy, looks like I’ll have to catch up...I chuckle to myself. “Hey man! Thanks for having me, and yeah bro almost got lost...had to swing by and pick up some beer. Hope you all like Heineken!”. Scott says, “Since you made it bro, you gotta have a welcome tequila shot, as my new friend Y/N, likes to call them!”. As he says this, you see this beautiful Latina woman come out of the kitchen with 3 drinks in hand. She had the most beautiful olive complexion that almost glowed, beautiful dark curly hair, almond eyes, plump glossy pink lips. She had on a black v-neck shirt that showed a bit of cleavage, but in a tasteful way, her skinny jeans and white chucks. She had a little sway to her walk, showing her voluptuous hips that he almost wanted to grab on sight and pull her to him. When she walked up, she made eye contact with me...her eyes were dark brown, almost black, but her eyes had a sparkle to them and they were mysterious, they looked shy but sassy at the same time. She smiled and when she did I swore my heart ached in a way it hasn’t in a very long time... It wasn’t until Mark said, “Y/N...this is Scott’s brother, Chris. They’re my good friends I grew up with in Massachusetts. Chris, this is my amazing friend, Y/N.” As she put the drinks down, I extended my hand out to her, “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”, she took my hand, I could feel how small and soft her hand was in mine, I felt a spark that I can’t explain, it was almost scary how I felt when we shook hands. It was as if I’ve known her all my life or in a different lifetime...Oh my God..what am I talking about? I’ve just met this girl. This can’t anything..Until she finally spoke... “Nice to meet you too, Chris” her voice was so soft, yet strong. She gave me a smile again, that made my heart once again ache. It was a smile that I never want to go away and see everyday. I’ll make it my mission to see that smile for the rest of the night...

Y/N POV:

You instantly snap out of your shyness, by telling yourself...tequila shots...this will make this go better.. “Ah...Chris since you’re just coming in to the party it seems that you’ve earned yourself my famous tequila welcome shot!” You laugh as you grab a tequila bottle, 4 shot glasses, limes and salt. You pour out the shots, pass out the limes and pour salt on everyone’s hands, “Here’s to the rest of the night and new friends!” Scott says as you all lift your shot glasses up to clink. You all take your shots and shiver again. You all begin chatting away, mixing a couple of more drinks, played a couple of card drinking games. It wasn’t until you hear Scott say “Well, Well, Y/N! It’s time...” you laugh, “Time for what, Scott?” “You owe me a karaoke song or a few! Let’s go to the basement guys!!” Chris looks over at you, “You sing karaoke, Y/N? This is gonna be great” as he chuckles. “Well...Mark seems to think I have this great karaoke voice and decided to tell everyone that I was going to sing tonight...I’m starting to think he just thinks I sound good because we’re always drinking when I end up singing karaoke...warning you now Evans...this is probably gonna be the worst singing you’ve ever heard!” You laugh as you grab your drink and follow the guys to the basement for karaoke. He laughs, and you think Oh my God..his laugh is amazing, it’s so contagious “I don’t know, Y/N...you’re gonna be singing with Scott...he can sing amazing when he’s sober, but drunk Scott is hilarious and his singing is more like shouting so you can’t be that bad”...he grabs his drink and follows behind you. You all make your way into the basement along with a couple of other friends and set up the big screen for karaoke. Mark looks at you and says “You’re too humble, Y/N, you have a great voice...and we’ll all be here to witness it”, you look at your friend and give him a sarcastic smile and shoot him your middle finger “Yeah thanks, Mark...you’re just about to set me up for embarrassment!” Chris and Mark start laughing at your comment and sit back ready to watch you guys sing. Scott is searching for a song on karaoke and stumbles across “Kiss” by Prince and says “Yup! This is it...you ready Y/N?” I groan at the song choice, knowing how much you’re about to get into this song... “100% Scott let’s do this!” And you chug down the rest of your beer. The song comes on and you both immediately get into the song, singing at each other and at the rest of your friends. You look over and caught a glimpse of Chris, he was sitting back with his legs spread open, beer in hand, smiling and laughing as both of you were singing and being very animated with the lyrics. You turn to him at one point during the song and sang the lyrics, “...you don’t have to cool to rule my world, ain’t no particular sign I’m more compatible with, I just want your extra time and your kiss!” And as you say the last part you blew a kiss towards Chris and Mark. You see them both laugh, Chris blushes and smiles before they both start singing the rest of the song with you and Scott. You laugh as you see all of them getting into the song.

CHRIS POV:

I followed Y/N down to the basement to meet the rest of them for karaoke. She grabbed a beer, tequila bottle and her pineapple juice as she made her way out of the kitchen. She seemed humble and shy about doing karaoke, but since she promised Scott a duet she intended on keeping that promise. I joked around with her about how Scott’s singing wasn’t the best when he was drunk and encouraged her that her singing couldn’t be that bad. She gave me a breathtaking smile and laughed at my comment. She threw her head back as she laughed and all I could see was her beautiful neck that I wanted to sprinkle kisses on and down to her chest. Her laugh was like music to my ears, it was something that I wanted to hear over and over again. I imagined how the other sound I wanted to hear come out of those glossy plump lips would be her moaning my name...but I shook my head and tried to reel myself back because all I could feel was my pants tightening. I followed her into the basement, watching her beautiful ass as she walked away, she was curvy in the most perfect way, her ass almost begging to be palmed and squeezed. Again, I had to shake my head and stop my thoughts. I sat back on the couch with Mark and a couple of other friends as she and Scott set up their song. Scott went with “Kiss” by Prince. Of course he would pick such a flirty song...it’s like he knew what he was doing, knowing that Y/N would probably sound amazing singing this...Mark looked over at Y/N and shouted at her “You’re too humble, Y/N, you have a great voice...and we’ll all be here to witness it”, she looks over at her friend and gives him a sarcastic smile and shot him her middle finger “Yeah thanks, Mark...you’re just about to set me up for embarrassment!” Her sarcastic comment made me laugh, she seemed so funny, sweet and sassy all at the same time. She definitely had that little Latina spice that I liked...she seemed to keep all of us on our toes. Scott and Y/N began singing to each other, they were so animated as they were singing. Scott definitely shouting at the top of his lungs, Y/N on the other hand, had a beautiful voice. She was actually singing compared to Scott. At one point she turned over to face us, but making eye contact with me... “...you don’t have to cool to rule my world, ain’t no particular sign I’m more compatible with, I just want your extra time and your kiss!” and as she said this, she blew a kiss our way, but it felt like it was meant for me as she stared into my eyes. Her lips looked so kissable and plump and all I could think was how I wanted to pull her on my lap and grab her face and kiss those lips...Mark and I laughed and joined them in finishing the song.

Y/N POV:

Scott and I end up singing a few more songs, from oldies to recent music, upbeat music to some sad/romantic songs. Mark and Scott and a few others all made their way into the yard to play some corn hole and beer pong, leaving you and Chris behind chatting for a few before making your way to play beer pong with the others. Chris looked over at you with those blue eyes, at the moment you don’t know if it’s all the alcohol you’ve had or not but you felt like those eyes were going to turn you into a damn puddle. He was still sitting with his legs open on the couch. I couldn’t help but think about how I wanted to straddle those legs and kiss his lips and feel his hardness under you. He sat there with his beer still in hand and looks over at you and says “Y/N, Mark was not kidding, you have an amazing voice...”. You smile and take a sip of your beer, “Eh, thanks Evans...Maybe you’ve just reached the same amount of drunkness that Mark is at when he tells me that” you laugh. Chris smiles and says “Nope, I’m not drunk yet...but that was the best performance and I must say, your little kiss throwing for Prince’s song was great..”. You feel yourself blush and say “Thank you, I like to keep you all on your toes with my performance” Chris stands up and walks up to you and offers you his hand to help you up from the couch, his hand feels so strong and big in yours and all you keep staring at are his arms, his eyes and those pink lips. His lips looked so soft and so inviting but no way, he’s thinking the same thing. As I stand up all I can smell is his cologne, it smells so fresh and clean, it was almost intoxicating. You looked up to the man who was at least 6 inches taller than you, and looked into his eyes, he was staring at your eyes and back down at your lips, almost waiting for your signal for him to kiss you. It’s been months since you’ve kissed someone else, well, years since you’ve kissed someone else’s lips than your ex-fiancé. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or this energy you were feeling between the two of you, but in that moment you did something you never would have done before. You leaned up to this man’s lips and pressed your lips lightly on his, to test the waters and see if it was okay to kiss. His lips were as soft as you imagined and you pulled back and looked at him and he smiled, “I’ve wanted to see how your lips felt since I saw you come out of the kitchen, Y/N.” He leaned in and kissed you again, this time he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer as he kissed you longer, this kiss felt intense and passionate. You wrapped your arms around his neck and put your fingers at the nape of his neck playing with his hair. You felt his tongue at your lips, wanting to taste more of you. You open your mouth inviting him in. His mouth tasted like mint and beer, in the best way. He lowly groaned into your mouth as he pulled away. He looked at you and said, “I can stay like this all night, kissing your lips, but if I don’t stop myself now I know Scott will probably burst in here looking for us to play beer pong with him.” You laugh and said, “You’re right...the night is still young, Evans..” as you leaned up and pecked his lips, grabbed your beer and walked away.

CHRIS POV:

Scott and Y/N finished up their karaoke and Mark looked over at me and whispered, “We’re gonna go upstairs to the yard and play beer pong, we’ll leave you two alone for a few. Don’t think we haven’t felt how thick the air has been around you two. Talk to her a little, I’ve known her forever and I know her so well, I’m glad she opened up as much as she did. She must really feel comfortable around you, Bro.” My stomach tightened up, was it that obvious that we were into each other? Not that I wanted to hide it, she was beautiful and all I wanted to do was kiss her and get to know her more. Scott, Mark and the others all left little by little to the yard leaving me and Y/N on the couch together, I looked over at her and she had her legs crossed, as she was shaking her foot up and down I couldn’t help but stare at her ankle bracelet and how I wanted to grab her legs and sprinkle kisses from her feet to her ankles, calves, thighs and into her center. I kept thinking how I wanted to see her ankle bracelet on my shoulder while I held her legs up over my shoulders while I pressed my tongue into her center...once again I had to stop my thoughts before I went over to her and pulled her on my lap. She looked over at me with that sweet sweet smile of hers and I had to compliment her singing, it was absolutely beautiful. She blushed, something I engraved into my memory...I told her that I loved her performance for “Kiss” by Prince and that I loved her little kiss at the end. She blushed and told me she liked to keep us on our toes. I decided if we stayed down there any longer it would end up with me pulling her in for a kiss, so I stood up and walked over to her and extended my hand to help her off the couch. She took my hand and we were standing dangerously close to each other. I could smell her fresh, yet floral perfume and I took a deep breath wanting to remember that smell. She looked up at me with those beautiful chocolate colored almond eyes, her lips looking delicious and plump. She looked into my eyes and looked down at my lips as I did the same, she licked her lips and I couldn’t help at how kissable they looked at that moment. I refuse to cross a line and I didn’t want to kiss her without her permission, as I was going to ask her if I could kiss her she gently placed her lips on mine and gave me the most gentle and innocent kiss ever. She pulled away and looked me in the eye, almost to see if it was okay to keep going. I put my hands on those voluptuous hips and pulled her close to me, she wrapped her arms around my neck and put her fingers in my hair...I reached down and kissed her again, this time with more passion, wanting her to know how much I wanted this all night. Her lips felt amazing, soft and everything I imagined them to be. She tasted like mint and beer, so delicious. I touched my tongue to her lips and she invited me in, it was passionate, intense and I wanted to keep going...I lowly groaned into her lips because I knew that I had to break the kiss off before Scott or Mark came bursting in ruining our moment....I pulled away slowly and sadly, looked into her eyes hoping that I didn’t disappoint her and said, “I can stay like this all night, kissing your lips, but if I don’t stop myself now I know Scott will probably burst in here looking for us to play beer pong with him.” She laugh that sweet laugh I liked and said, “You’re right...the night is still young, Evans..” as she leaned up and pecked my lips one more time, she grabbed her beer, smiled at me over her shoulder and she walked away. She swayed those hips that I was just holding and I couldn’t help but stare at her ass and I had to palm my boner down in my pants...I followed her up and out into the yard to meet the guys for beer pong. We all played for a while until I saw Y/N getting herself ready to leave. I didn’t want her to leave without getting her number, kissing her one more time and at least walking her to her house...

Y/N POV:

We all played beer pong for a while, drank a little more. Mark still had good music playing and Chris and I paired up to play, we beat Mark and Scott many times. We definitely made a good team, Chris and I kept up the flirting up throughout the game. Mark looked at me at one point and raised his eyebrow at me, I just laughed and shrugged my shoulders, “Hey, this is what you wanted!” I said, Mark just laughed and said, “Damn right!”. After what seemed like hours I checked the time and noticed it was 3am and that it was time for me to home. I started to help Mark clean up and pack up, there were people passed out on the couch and people who had left hours ago, but I wanted to help as much as I could before I left. After all, I live right across the street. Chris and Scott also helped clean up, they look over cleaning the yard, while Mark and I cleaned the kitchen. He looked up at me and smiled, I said “WHAT?!” Mark said, “I see you and Chris got along really well...” I smiled and said, “He’s sweet, is it weird to say I feel like I’ve known him forever? Oh and he’s verrrrrryyyy good looking....why didn’t you tell me he was that good looking?!” Mark laughed and said, “Oh, he’s an awesome guy, genuinely a good guy. That’s probably the vibe you’re getting from him. He seemed smitten by you, you know? You should see where it goes..” I looked up into the yard and see them cleaning up. You all finish up cleaning and you walk over to them to say bye, Scott leans in to hug you, “It was great meeting you, hope to hang with you again soon! Let’s trade numbers!” You smile and trade numbers, you walk over and say bye to Mark, hug him and thank him for a good night, and tell him to stop by for lunch tomorrow. Lastly, you walk over to Chris, “It was nice meeting you, Chris”, he smiles at you and leans in to hug you. He felt huge in your arms, he smelled amazing. You felt the spark again... “It was nice meeting you too. Can I walk you to your door?” You smile and say, “Sure!” You silently walk together to your door, it was a comfortable silence. “Well, this is me...”, you say. He looks down at you and smiles before leaning in to kiss you again, he grabbed your face gently and gave you a passionate kiss that left you both breathless. He smiles on your lips, “I want to do this again, Y/N. Can we see each other again, soon?” You kiss him one more time before giving him your number, and he waits for you to open your door and walk in safely. You close the door behind you and smile to yourself... Shit!! This guy is amazing...

To be continued...

#chris evans fluff #chris evans #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fandom #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x latina!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans smut

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queenofcats17 · 3 years ago

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So, @holdyourbreathfornow came up with a really cool Toy AU on one of the Discords we’re in and I wanted to write a drabble for it.

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It was getting close to midnight as Benrey crept over to the castle clock on the other side of the playroom. He always waited until ten minutes before midnight before going over. Any sooner and he ran the risk of falling asleep or getting distracted waiting. Any later and he’d be scrambling to be ready. Ten minutes was just right for him to be there and waiting.

He made his way across the floor, taking care to avoid any toys that could make noise or be tripped over. He wasn’t exactly the most coordinated and he didn’t want to risk waking anyone up. Or not getting to the clock in time. He didn’t necessarily need to be there and waiting, but he wanted to be.

Gordon appreciated it. And that was reason enough.

Once he reached the clock, Benrey settled down, staring expectantly at the clock face and tapping his little mitts on the ground as he waited for the stroke of midnight. He’d begun looking forward to this every night since the clock had been installed and he’d first seen what happened when midnight came.

The castle clock was a gorgeous piece of work. It hung on the wall, just out of reach of tiny child hands, and was made of gold and bronze, with intricate patterns and details etched into the metal. It looked like something out of a clockwork fairytale, some sections having glass covers to display the inner workings. The clock face sat between two towers, above a small set of double doors.

It was getting close to midnight now. Benrey stared intently at the clock face, counting down to the moment it would strike midnight. Finally, it did, the chimes echoing throughout the empty playroom. Then the doors on the clock opened and he stepped out.

From the moment he’d first laid eyes on the Clockwork King, Benrey had decided Gordon was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Gordon Freeman, like his castle, was a clockwork being. His royal regalia was crafted of gold and silver, with intricate detailing and embellishments. His skin was smooth bronze, his hair made of fine filaments of copper. His eyes had been made from two tiny emeralds and sparkled when he smiled.

He was stunning.

In comparison, Benrey wasn’t much to look at. Just a simple worn out rag doll. But Benrey wasn’t too hung up on his appearance. It was proof he had been loved many times over. That reminder of all the love he’d been given made all the wear and tear worth it. And Gordon regularly called Benrey cute, so that gave him a real boost in confidence.

As Gordon stepped out of the clock, he was enveloped in a golden light, growing to Benrey’s size. A byproduct of the magic that animated them, at least according to Tommy. Benrey didn’t think too much about it.

Benrey leaned back on his hands, trying to act cool. “Sup?”

Gordon let out a soft laugh. “Sup to you too. Have you been sitting there a while?”

“Naah.” Benrey waved a mitten hand in a slightly dismissive manner. “Just got here. Had to, uh, had to secure the perimeter first. Make sure there aren’t any assassins.”

Gordon raised an eyebrow as he extended a hand to Benrey, pulling him to his feet. “That’s awfully thoughtful of you. Are you sure you could take an assassin, though?”

“You doubting my combat skills, bro?” Benrey feigned horror, flopping against Gordon. “You doubting my epic fighting moves? I’ve got a black belt in karate, y’know.”

Gordon snorted, shoving Benrey away. “You do not.”

Benrey grinned. “I totally do.”

“There is no way,” Gordon said. He was doing that cute little giggle he did when he was trying to keep himself from laughing too uproariously. Something about maintaining decorum as a royal. It was so adorable.

“Can’t believe my best buddy Gordon is doubtin’ me.” Benrey flopped against Gordon again. “Thought we were best friends, bro.”

“Benrey, I love you,” Gordon laughed, making Benrey’s heart skip a beat. “But you can barely dance without tripping over your feet. There is no way you can fight.”

“So mean to Benny.” Benrey draped himself further over Gordon. “Mean and cruel.”

“You want to prove me wrong?” Gordon asked, a mischievous smile crossing his features.

Benrey pulled away, frowning slightly. “Like...how?”

“A dance?” Gordon slipped an arm around Benrey’s waist, dipping him back.

It was times like these Benrey was incredibly grateful he was incapable of blushing.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied with a grin, trying to keep his voice from shaking too much. “Gotta show you my sick moves.”

He was sure he was going to make a fool of himself. He always did. Gordon was right. He always tripped over his feet when they waltzed together. Not that Benrey actually cared. He’d never taken himself all that seriously. Plus, it was always worth it to make Gordon laugh. The guy could be so uptight sometimes.

Gordon looked back at the clock and made a gesture with his hand. A clockwork orchestra emerged from the same doors Gordon had, although they didn’t leave the clock. With another wave of Gordon’s hand, they began to play.

As the music filled the playroom, Gordon put one hand on Benrey’s waist, holding Benrey’s hand with his other one. They began to move, Gordon taking the lead. Benrey had pretty much stopped paying attention, focused solely on Gordon’s face.

Waltzing like this...It felt like a scene from a fairytale.

He wished this moment could last forever.

#hlvrai #fanfiction #toy au #frenrey

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squid-ichorous · 2 years ago

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the first scene of SNAPPER, a body horror t4t love story about a guy struggling to make ends meet, maintain personal relationships, and weigh the moral consequences of having a flesh-hungry parasite living in his uterus

He’s here again, sitting in a shitty little hotel bar nursing a cheap well special. The ice melts under the moody lights above the bartop, its shifting silent under the din of bro country. He idly swings a sneaker-clad foot against the leg of his stool, shaking peachy-pink bangs out of his face. There’s a shape moving towards him, a shape that turns into a decent enough looking guy with a red flannel and a camo cap with a swooshy emblem of lines vaguely resembling a deer. The man’s eyes trace the silhouette of his body. The man extends his hand with a smile.

“Hey. I’m Greg.” He smiles back, letting his voice lilt upwards in register.

“Ty,” he says, lightly gripping and shaking the hand. Greg’s touch is gentle, like the way his mama taught him to treat a lady.

Poor fucker.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Greg asks. Ty nods and turns a little as Greg perches next to him.

They make small talk and Ty goes through the motions like he’s checking them off of a list: bat your lashes, lean in, mirror whatever he does without being too masc. He’s not a bad looking guy - scruffy dark brown hair poking out from under his cap, the stubble around his lips and along his jaw darker in shade. The sun’s baked some premature lines into his face, making the platonic ideal of a working man.

Greg compliments his bobbed hair; he doesn’t need to know that it was ten bucks at the party store. The unnatural shine disappears in the dimness of the room.

Ty coyly glances into a compact mirror and he can see what no one else can. Lingering dark circles under his eyes, hidden under what feels like an inch of cakey under-eye concealer. Gauntness in his cheeks, blended out with bronzer and contour. Cracked dry lips scoured with his fingernail and smothered in balm. The mask is still in place though, and Greg’s just enough beers deep to stay blind to it all. Greg leans in, cheap fermentation on his breath.

“How ‘bout you n’ me get out of here,” he says, aiming for a sexy purr and landing somewhere around buddy-you’re-lucky-you’re-so-hot. Ty smiles, looking Greg over through his lashes.

“‘Kay. Wanna come ‘round to mine?” Greg slides off of his stool and offers Ty his arm. Just like mama taught him.

Ty tries not to think of the families. The mothers, the fathers, the siblings. The children and spouses, in some cases. Carrie Underwood, eat your heart out.

He drives, Greg’s enthusiasm having gotten the better of him. He takes a back-assward kinda way, winding in back alleys with Greg’s hand on his thigh, Ty’s skirt shifted up a little and Greg’s thumb stroking the bare skin. He parks and flashes a look at Greg, eyes half-lidded with his lip in his teeth.

The apartment is down a short flight of stairs, behind a door, down a hall, behind another door. One room plus bath, hastily painted slum-lord white, linoleum floor. Furnished in some decent pieces nabbed from campus when the students were moving out. Sure, it’s a shithole, but for six hundred a month it’s Ty’s shithole. He makes it work.

As soon as Ty’s door shuts behind them Greg is on him, pulling Ty close and his lips landing everywhere. Hunger outweighs revulsion.

Checking boxes again. Pulling each other’s clothes off, Ty letting Greg take the lead because he doesn’t want it. So much for gentlemanliness. Greg says some dirty shit about Ty not wearing a bra; Ty can barely parse the words. He hasn’t owned a bra in years anyways.

Greg’s got a tight body, well-muscled and tan. The smell of sun lingers on his skin and for a moment Ty wants to slow down, to feel human warmth. To ask Greg to be gentle and let real threads of connection pull them closer together. He imagines what Greg could look like in the daylight - maybe he has coppery tones in his hair, maybe his eyes shine honey-gold. Maybe he really is a gentleman and had they met anywhere else he’d be a better man.

He’s probably wrong.

Hunger outweighs yearning.

They’re both naked and Ty drops backward onto the bed, landing in an almost cartoonishly coquette pose. Through the miracle of glue his wig is still on. Greg lies next to him and they kiss and kiss, the malt and hops fading like a bad smell you’ve lived with for too long. This has gone on for too long.

Ty hooks a leg around Greg’s hip and rolls, moving Greg onto his back and slowly grinding wet against Greg’s dick. He looks down at Greg, the pity on his face hiding in the shadows of the dark room. I’m sorry, he whispers, before his mind shuts off and something else awakens. Now Greg is meat. Just a big hunk of Okie beef.

It’s not the kind of sickening crunch you’d expect, it’s more like your cousin’s bully mix absolutely fucking up a turkey leg stolen from the fold-up table at meemaw’s birthday party. Unlike most mammals, there’s no bone in there. It’s just veins, cartilage, soft spongy flesh. When the jaws close around it, Ty lets out a soft, shuddering moan.

Then the screaming starts.

Another vital virtue of the apartment is how little sound travels, especially with all the hippie-ass tapestries on the walls hiding the layers of sponge and foam. Greg is screaming and thrashing under him, scared and bleeding and hurling every slur he can think of in Ty’s direction. Even the ones that don’t apply. Nobody upstairs is any the wiser. Something raises his hands and presses them over Greg’s mouth.

Red pools between his legs, splattering when Greg starts bucking his hips to shake Ty off. He tries to grab at Ty and tear him away, beat him, do anything to break free, but the jaws are like a fuckin’ hyena’s and he’s losing a lot of blood very fast.

When Greg stops moving there’s a nudge at the back of Ty’s brain. Hey, kid. Time to move on to the main course.

He puts his earpods in and starts up a multiparter podcast about mail fraud, turning it up as loud as he can. It’s not that he’s interested in the subject, it’s just better than the noises. Ty hooks his arms under Greg’s and drags him to the tub, a trail of blood following them. Great, now he has to clean up all this God-damned blood.

He gets Greg into the tub, although it’s a hell of a task. Greg might as well be a real side of beef with his dead weight; Ty almost wishes he was frozen and could just slide around. That would take far too long though. His freezer isn’t that big. He sits in the tub with the body and props his ankles up on the edges, legs spread wide, and leans back with his head on an inflatable shell-shaped pillow.

Some noise leaks in, like when you’re eating chips and it can be hard to hear anything else because it’s literally inside your head, you know? He can feel the works moving inside him, the teeth chewing slowly, some kind of fucked up peristalsis rippling the wrong way through his bowels. It’ll take all night, but it’ll shut the damn thing up for a while. He pulls out a blanket from behind the toilet bowl and covers himself before closing his eyes. A drowsy food coma to end the day.

#i've written a ways past this but idk how i feel about it #i'll chop and hack at it until i'm satisfied

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sonnetthebard · 3 years ago

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This is kind of a crack idea, but I don't really care and I'm throwing it out anyway

Curt and Owen have to go undercover in a show for a mission(keeping an eye on one of the members of the cast maybe?). The show? Either Spies are Forever or a Hatchetfield show, take your pick -S

S anon... you have been waiting a while for this, and I apologize. With Headless, I needed a moment to recharge. So this is going to be a Modern! SAF fic. And as a treat, we're going original cast in an AU. That's right folks. Extra meta content. You asked for crack, you're gonna get crack. Please note: Most of the stories pertaining to the real people involved in this oneshot are made up based on what facts I know about them/ what I’m able to pick up on personalities. I don’t know any of these people personally, though. This is going to be such a ride, so buckle up.

Genre: Comedy/ Action/ Fluff

Words: 5639

TL;DR: Curt and Owen take the stage in order to monitor Chimera and one of their operatives. The thing is, they only have a vague clue as to who they're going after: he was one of the writers.

TW: Swearing, Guns, Fighting- But not much, this is mostly just gonna be a joke.

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"Next we have... Curt Mega?" The longer-haired one read off, looking at Curt. "Cool name! We might have to use that- if, of course, that's okay with you."

"Oh... yeah, that's fine." Curt chuckled softly.

What, precisely, was Curt doing? Only the thing he'd vowed to Owen that he would never do (other than, of course, leave him): auditioning for a musical. Owen was a total theatre kid, and he'd done his share of musicals. Curt was always in the audience, but he'd jokingly told Owen that he would never be joining him up there. But... here he was. In an audition room. Curt never broke promises, not even joke ones. But these were... extenuating circumstances. In other words, this was for a mission and he had no doubt that Cynthia would actually kill him if he didn't follow through with his orders. Owen gave him a sly, triumphant smirk from across the room, where he was waiting for his audition. Curt got up, following the guy back further into the studio where they were holding auditions.

This mission was an odd one. It was monitoring a potential operative with Chimera Worldwide. Sure, they had the world by storm now- but A.S.S. was getting intel telling them that they might be breaching the privacy rights of people all over the world. In fact, Chimera may be a lot more criminal than they would seem to the naked eye. There was evidence coming to light of plots that could very well end in world domination. The worst part: apparently they were pretty plausible. One world government, puppeted by Chimera. That's why MI6 had sent Owen, and A.S.S. had sent Curt. They were their best agents, and a duo that had proven to work well together.

What did all of that have to do with a musical? To the average joe, nothing. Oh, Chimera had done well. They'd even declined to offer these guys a production grant so as to not seem shady. But... the A.S.S. had reason to believe that one of the writers and producers for the show that they were about to audition for was an operative for Chimera. Now, this play in and of itself may be an independent project. It may have nothing to do with Chimera. But... it was looking like the easiest way to monitor this operative, and so here Curt and Owen were. Owen was thrilled! He loved doing shows. He usually had to slot them into his schedule carefully, though. He couldn't do them during missions. So a mission where he was doing theatre was basically a dream come true for him.

Curt and Owen had chosen roles according to their experience with theatre. Curt had chosen to keep his name as his theatrical stage name, and Owen already did keep his name as a stage name. It was risky, but it also provided their names with a solid cover in the world outside of espionage. Owen had a legitimate resume built. That was why he was going for the lead, currently named 'JB' for 'James Bond' (subject to change). Curt, on the other hand, had stolen his resume from another actor named Curt Mega (who had fully agreed to that and signed an NDA and luckily enough happened to look like Curt). He had literally no acting experience, so he was going for a smaller role: The Informant and Ensemble. Both would likely have eyes on different parts of the production process and the cast. Hopefully they'd get a good idea of what was going on and who their target was. Maybe they'd even get to eliminate the threat! That was Curt's favourite part of missions.

"So, Curt... you did Glee?" The guy who had initially called him asked as they walked.

"Yep!" Curt lied.

"I recognize you! You were one of the Warblers- nice job on that solo in Uptown Girl, by the way." The man chuckled. Oh good. He was passable as the other Curt Mega. "I did Glee too. I was only there for, like, an episode though. But my buddy Darren... well, you probably know him."

"Yeah. He did a phenomenal job as Blaine." Curt smirked. Darren was also on an NDA. The government was being extremely careful.

"I'm Joey Richter. Me and my friends Brian and Corey wrote this show." The man introduced himself, extending his hand. Curt took it, giving him a firm shake. Joey smirked. "Damn... you've got a good shake."

"Thanks." Curt chuckled. He liked this guy. It was hard to imagine right now that he could be talking to an agent for one of the greatest evils known to man since... probably the Nazis. "I'm Curt... I mean, you know that, I just..."

"Yeah, I get it." Joey chuckled along with him. They walked into a room. Inside there were four other men. Two sat behind a table, Curt's supposed 'resume' and headshots laid out in front of them, a stack of papers on the side. Two other men shared a piano bench stationed by a keyboard. None of them were dressed particularly formally. Actually, they were all dressed pretty similarly to Curt. Short-sleeved patterned button-ups were about as formal as it got. So Curt and his black, white and gold striped short-sleeved button-up were in good company. "Hey, guys! This is Curt!"

"Hey! Welcome to the auditions for Spies are Forever!" One of the men behind the table smiled brightly. God, all of these men looked... so innocent. Curt couldn't see any of them being traitors to their country, much less mankind.

"Okay, so that's Brian. The guy beside him is Corey." Joey introduced. Corey waved. "The two guys at the piano bench are Clark and Pierce, our composers and band."

"Hey, Curt." Clark smirked.

"You brought your sixteen bars?" Pierce checked.

"Yep." Curt nodded, popping his 'p' and passing him the binder with his sheet music in it.

He'd brought Being Alive from Company, which Owen said was "such a cliche" and "a terrible choice for a comic show", but it was the song Curt felt most comfortable singing. So he was singing it anyways. Owen was very adamant that Curt had to be careful to actually be cast in the show, but Curt held that that song was his best chance. Curt had always thought he was an okay singer. He had his range that he shined in, and he used that. He never performed though. He wasn't that good. That's why he was going for a mostly non-singing role. He went over his cut with Clark, who was actually the one who would be playing for him. Then he cleared his throat, took a deep breath and gave it the old college try.

The odd thing, Curt thought, was that they seemed very into it. Either they were being very nice to him or they were genuinely enjoying the performance. Curt was a bit surprised by that. Owen was the performer among the two of them. Curt supposed it could just be the song. But then... something else unexpected happened. They asked Curt to do his cold read as 'JB'... and change the name to his own. 'Agent Curt Mega'. It was all getting a bit real for Curt. They liked him. And they liked his cold read. They were laughing during his cold read- and at all the right times! Curt was very confused. This wasn't where he was supposed to shine. He walked out of the audition room, and Owen was called in.

Owen really could not have come out sooner. Curt was anxious. What had he just done? He had given it his best because he thought that the best that could get him was ensemble. Was it going to get him more? Was he ready for more? He was past the point of no return, but... God, what had he just done? Owen came out of his audition, smug and content with himself. Apparently they'd asked him to read multiple sides. Curt hadn't the heart to tell him they'd asked him to read for the lead. A few days passed. Curt almost forgot that he'd even auditioned. That it had been so successful. Basking in the California sun could do that to you. But three days later, it all came back to him all too vividly.

"Curt, I got the email!" Owen announced from where he was lazing on the couch across from Curt in their hotel room. He sat up quickly, eager.

"What does it say?" Curt asked eagerly, sitting up with him. Owen scrolled down on his phone.

"Well... I'm in the show..." Owen furrowed his brows. "But... not in the role I thought. I got Deadliest Man Alive."

"Oh." Curt frowned. "I'm sorry. I know you really wanted the lead."

"It seemed like a juicy part." Owen hummed, still a bit dazed by the rejection. "I was looking forward to it."

"I know, babe." Curt sighed, getting up and wrapping his partner in a hug. "Maybe this one will be even juicier!"

"Maybe..." Owen nodded. "Thank you, love. For trying to make me feel better."

"Yeah, no problem!" Curt smiled softly.

"Did you get your email?" Owen asked.

"I... haven't checked." Curt admitted.

"Well go on, then! Sit! We'll check together!" Owen urged him. Curt sighed, sitting beside him and opening his email. Owen peered over his shoulder. The email from the Tin Can Bros was the first one that popped up right at the top. "Open it, Curt!"

"Okay..." Curt chuckled nervously, pressing the email to open it. He scrolled down, sighing in relief. "I got in, O."

"Congratulations!" Owen cheered, grinning. he was genuinely happy for Curt, and excited to be in the same show. "What role?"

"Let me scroll down..." Curt chuckled, before his heart stopped. Naturally, his laughter stopped with it, and his face fell.

"Love, what is it?" Owen furrowed his brows, concerned by the sudden mood shift. Immediately, his mind went to the worst-case scenario. "Curt, is there anything in there indicating that we might be compromised?"

"No..." Curt shook his head, staring at the role.

"Then... darling, what's wrong?" Owen blinked, before looking over his shoulder. His face fell to a state of shock almost equal to Curt's when he read the words, bolded on the screen: We would like to offer you the role of 'JB', renamed Agent Curt Mega. "Oh..."

_________________________________________________

Rehearsals for Spies Are Forever were potentially one of the best times Curt had ever had. Everyone loved him! Apparently, his voice was much better than he'd given himself credit for, as was his acting. Even Owen admitted it. It turned out Curt was perfect for the role. The songs fit right for him, the personality was spot on... the spy was even gay! It was as though it was written specifically for him to perform. Curt truly was having the time of his life. And Owen was loving the role of Deadliest Man Alive. It turned out it was a significantly juicier role than Curt's- funny, dark. And he even had a minor side comedic role to take on, Dick Big. So he could flex his chops in different area. There was a bit of a minor complication with the characters, though.

It turned out Curt's was not the only name that they'd liked. The Tin Can Bros had thought Owen's name was absolutely perfect... for Curt's partner turned villain. Romantic partner turned villain, to boot. They liked the ship name Curtwen. Ironically, both Owen and Joey were playing versions of Agent Owen Carvour- Owen playing him when he was in disguise as Deadliest Man Alive, Joey playing him out of disguise. Owen didn't make a fuss- he couldn't in the position he was in. But he didn't like being portrayed that way, or his name being used that way. The truth was, Owen had used to be morally grey. He'd had a phase where he'd almost betrayed his country and Curt. He'd very nearly done some terrible things. He wouldn't way who for, but Owen had implied it might have been Chimera. But he and Curt had worked through that, and he saw the error of his ways. It hurt seeing his name associated with villainy again. But for the sake of the mission, he literally could not complain.

As for the mission, they weren't really getting too far yet- and that wasn’t for lack of effort. As hard as finding a balance between rehearsal and espionage was, they’d managed to find a routine and stick to it. The work they were doing really should have been productive for them. They'd bugged all three writers and the two composers, but HQ (who was monitoring those so that the boys could focus on rehearsing so that they didn’t become too suspicious) was saying that they'd not gotten any suspicious activity from those except for Joey constantly being with an unidentified girl. But it seemed like that was his girlfriend and not another operative. So either this operative was smart and onto them or taking a hiatus from their work. Background checks were pretty clean. They were going purely off their interactions with these writers, which wasn’t really helping. All five of them were lovely. All five of them were also extremely smart. And all five of them had acting experience. Right now, though... Joey, Clark and Pierce weren't their main suspects. Joey was just too genuine to be bad, as were Pierce and Clark. Plus, if we're looking at technicalities (as Owen tended to), Clark and Pierce were composers, not writers. It was between Brian and Corey- unless something changed. Truly, it was anyone's game.

Owen and Curt were on break. It had been a hard day of rehearsal so far. Curt had just had to rehearse his pseudo-love-song with Mary Kate (who was lovely, but he was a bit jealous of- Owen had called her 'gorgeous' on multiple occasions now), and though it wasn't physically or musically demanding it was hard not to just start laughing. Especially with Curt, a gay man who had experienced this before. And Lauren played his meddling mother during the song, which only made it harder not to laugh. His own mother had no idea what he did or who he was seeing, and it was better that way. She just thought he was a single banker. He liked Lauren’s version of his mom better. She was way funnier. It had taken a bit of time just to get a run in where Curt wasn't giggling the entire time. The song was just so well written! He knew it was so unprofessional (and Owen had certainly reminded him of that) but he couldn't help it! And the Bros were laughing with him, so it was all good. He was glad to be on break, because his sides were killing him. He scrolled through his phone, checking for anything from HQ, before he felt a hand on his back.

"You know, Curt, I don't know if I've told you this lately but you're really, really great!" Joey told him.

"Thanks, man." Curt chuckled. "Thanks for the opportunity!"

"Thank you for coming out for our show!" Joey smirked. His voice dropped to a lower volume. “Listen... you and Owen are dating, right?”

"Yeah..." Curt furrowed his brows. He and Owen had chosen to be open about that. They were all pretty supportive of the LGBTQ+ community. The actor playing Susan and The Informant had even confessed to him that they thought they might be nonbinary- maybe even female leaning.

"Okay, so for the whole anniversary thing..." Joey fidgeted a bit nervously. "I mean... I've got an anniversary coming up, and, like, it's not my first, but... I think I’ve used every trick in the dating book at this point, and-"

"Wait, you're dating?" Curt blinked.

"Oh! Right, you're new!" Joey started to laugh. "Um... yeah! It's me and Lo."

"You and Lauren?" Curt smirked. He chuckled. "I knew it!"

"We're not public about the relationship yet, though, so... keep it quiet?" Joey pleaded.

"Oh yeah, you're safe." Curt assured him.

"So... any ideas?" Joey asked. “I really want this to be special for her.”

"Have you guys done the beach yet?" Curt offered. "Like, just a picnic- something you both love to eat- out on the beach."

"Yeah, did that two years ago." Joey sighed.

"Alright... how about a museum?" Curt offered. "It can be any museum that has something the two of you could bond over. But... I mean, Owen is super into experiencing art together."

"That we haven't done... not by ourselves on a date." Joey considered. "It doesn't even really have to be art, does it?"

"Nah, that's the beauty of museums! There are museums out there for everything." Curt smirked. “Maybe you two could go to a movie museum.”

"That’s probably more our speed.” Joey chuckled. “Thanks, man!”

"No problem.” Curt winked playfully. Then, he got an idea. He trusted Joey, so hopefully this worked. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

"I mean, I kinda owe you one." Joey chuckled. “Ask away!”

"Have you noticed anyone... acting a bit weird? Like... different from the way they usually do." Curt whispered.

"I... think I know who you mean." Joey nodded. "With Mary Kate... I think she honestly just misses Sean, you know? The rehearsals are a long time for her to be away from him. Those two are so close."

"Yeah... yeah, that must be hard on her." Curt hummed sympathetically. That... wasn't what he'd been going for.

"But I don't know what's going on with Brian." Joey confided in him. "I mean, it's not like he's been acting weird, per se, but... I mean, he always used to be down to just hang after work. But recently, he's been too busy to do that? I honestly thought it was just me who was picking up on that, but like... you're noticing it too?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am." Curt lied, all the sympathy he could muster in his tone. Bingo. He'd just gotten some really, really good intel there. If there was anyone who would be able to know when one of the writers was acting shady, it was Joey. They were his best friends. And Curt tended to agree with Joey anyways. Corey just didn’t give off villain vibes. Neither did Brian, but out of the two of them, Brian gave off more. “Glad it’s not just me.”

"What's he saying about me?" Brian rolled his eyes playfully, approaching his bag from behind them to grab something. Shit. He must have heard his name.

"Uh..." Joey blushed.

"Oh, he was just telling me about how you two met." Curt lied. Joey gave him a questioning look. But Curt remembered him mentioning it in another one of his longwinded vents. "U of Michigan, Freshmen year. You two got into a lot of trouble."

"He's not telling you any of the bad stuff, is he?" Brian teased.

"Nah, man- I respect the bro code!" Joey scoffed playfully. Curt gave Joey a wink, and Joey gave him a grateful look in return. The wink hadn't gone unnoticed by Brian though.

"Oh god, he is telling you the bad stuff, isn't he?" Brian groaned playfully. "Listen, if Lauren asks, none of it was us."

"Oh don't worry... I'm great with secrets." Curt chuckled. He kinda wanted context now. Knowing those two, it was nothing serious- Joey had a heart of gold. He wouldn't be involved in anything bad. Especially not with his soon-to-be-girlfriend. So probably pranks, or other such shenanigans.

"Guys... I already knew it was you." Lauren rolled her eyes. None of them had noticed her by her own rehearsal bag picking up her water bottle. "It was so obvious... I may have believed you when you blamed Holden like... once? Twice? But you literally signed off half of the time."

"We did?" Joey blinked, looking at Brian.

"Okay, look, some of the time... I was pretty proud of our work." Brian defended himself.

"Dude!" Joey started to snicker. "And here I was keeping secrets from my girlfriend for you!"

"Sorry, Joey." Brian winced.

“Eh, I guess I have to forgive you.” Joey rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re my best friend.”

“Hey, what’s that?” Lauren asked, noticing a pink piece of paper sticking out of Curt’s rehearsal bag. Curt blushed profusely. That was the letter Owen had written to pick him up. he took it everywhere with him in case he panicked so that he could read it, remember those days and calm down. It helped. He’d meant to keep it hidden.

“Oh... it’s nothing.” Curt lied.

“It’s not nothing, is it?” Lauren smirked. She gave him a genuine look. “Is it personal?”

“Oh, it’s nothing too bad.” Owen chuckled. Curt blushed further, feeling Owen wrap his arms around his waist. When had he gotten there?”

“What’s going on over here?” Corey asked, joining them. It seemed they had formed a rather large clump.

“I think Lauren might be about to read the first letter I ever wrote to Curtis.” Owen smirked triumphantly, clearly not embarrassed by that prospect.

“Ooooo romantic!” Tessa teased Curt. When had she shown up? God, for a spy, Curt was not very observant. He took a brief look at his surroundings. Ah. Everyone was there. Fantastic.

“Oh hell yeah I am!” Lauren smirked. She plucked the paper out of Curt’s bag.

“Oh god...” Curt groaned.

“You okay with this?” Corey checked with Curt. Curt nodded reluctantly.

“I mean, as long as O is.” Curt sighed, relenting.

With that, Lauren used the rest of their break to overdramatically read out Owen’s letter. Curt was a blushing mess, and Owen was grinning like an idiot. Evidently he was proud of himself- as he should have been. It was a good letter. At least Curt and Owen now had an idea of who to look into: Brian Rosenthal. It was a bit odd to think that Brosenthal might be a Chimera operative. He was a funny, quirky... he didn’t seem ruthless enough. Maybe they were wrong. But this was literally all the intel they could get at the moment. Mind you, they needed concrete evidence before they could actually do anything, but... at least they had a lead. Even if it was a weird one. The thing about espionage was that leads were usually weird. So they... well, they managed to bug all of the writers’ houses a bit more to give HQ more to work with, but especially Brian’s. That way the minute they had solid evidence, they could act. Well... not the minute. More like within about twenty minutes. But same difference. There was nothing else they could do.

________________________________________________

Nothing happened through the rest of the rehearsal process. Literally nothing. No one did anything suspicious. Honestly, Curt and Owen were starting to think that their superiors were wrong. They were performing their shows- with excellent reception, might they add. People were loving Curt. The real Curt Mega was getting huge acclaim on Curt’s behalf. And the fans... well they were going mad. It was looking like the show would be a huge success- which meant two things. One, Curt was going to have to do more theatre. Cleary he was good at it. Two, his life as a spy was about to get more... complicated. IT turned out these guys had a bit of a cult following because they had been involved with a theatre group called Team Starkid? Curt knew about them from his mission briefing, but honestly he’d never thought that they were that big of a deal. When he’d confessed that to Owen he’d gotten a long lecture. Apparently Owen was also a fan, and that was half of why he was so excited to be doing this show. But that was a topic for another time.

It was about the third show in when they finally got the evidence they had been looking for. It... was not when they’d planned to find anything. Actually, it was at the least convenient time. Between acts. It was also in the least expected way. Curt had to get his props for the top of Act Two. Owen decided to go with him, mostly to make sure he wasn’t a total and utter child. Honestly, they just meant to get their props before places. They were the only ones in that area backstage- the stagehands were resetting the stage and helping with costume changes/ tech issues. Well, they thought they were the only ones backstage. They should have been. But it turns out that someone else had anticipated the lack of people, and was using that to his advantage. At first, all Curt and Owen could hear were murmurs- not distinguishable in the slightest. Bey both gave each other a look before pulling out their real guns (which they hid on their costumes just in case) and following the sound. And that was when they saw him. The culprit behind all of this: Bri- Corey Lubowich? They lowered their guns a bit, staying dead quiet. That wasn’t what they’d been expecting. {erhaps this was a false alarm.

“I am in the middle of a- no, I get that my work with you is important! Believe me, I know!” Corey hissed. “I just... tonight is one of my shows! I’m going on as the Prince! I- well can it wait half an hour? I mean I’d prefer two hours, but if I have to whip out my laptop backstage, I- well I’m kinda insisting on- come on, you guys know my theatre is important to me!”

“Okay... so we were wrong...” Owen whispered.

“We don’t know that...” Curt reasoned. “It could be his family.”

“Of course I’m loyal! When have I not done what you said? I have sacrificed so much for you!” Corey fumed quietly. “Chimera is my life now! Not theatre, not my family or friends. Chimera! Do you know how fucking weird that is for someone my age?! I’m too young for all this corporate shit! No! No, of course that’s not what I’m saying just- can I have my night? Come on, this is really important.”

“Okay, I take that back.” Curt blinked, stunned. He was just a bit too loud. Corey’s head snapped in their direction, and both men raised their guns. Corey’s eyes fumbled, and he pulled out a gun of his own, haphazardly aiming it at them.

“Okay... shit, guys, I’m going to have to call you back... we’ve got a situation.” Corey muttered. His face fell and he rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “No, not a theatre situation. An us situation. I’ll fill you in- look, they have guns. Just- I really don’t have the time for this anymore- NOT MY JOB WITH YOU! This conversation! Jesus, I’ve got two guns pointed at me! Let me go! Okay, fine! Bye!”

“You...” Curt spat, glaring at Corey.

“You guys finally figured it out...” Corey sighed, raising his gun fully at them.

“You know who we are?” Curt blinked.

“How?” Owen asked him coldly.

“Chimera has eyes and ears everywhere.” Corey rolled his eyes. “Just like in the show. I knew you were coming, and I knew you were looking for me. I just didn’t think you’d actually find me.”

“Are you insulting our intelligence?” Owen scoffed.

“No. I just thought I set up Brian pretty well.” Corey admitted. “It was pretty easy, too... all I had to do was point out to Joey that Brian wasn’t coming to as many of our hangouts as he used to. You trusted Joey. Joey relayed that to you. Threw you completely off my scent.”

“Yeah, aren’t you just the friend of the year.” Curt rolled his eyes. “You threw your bro under the bus.”

“You’re lucky we didn’t get a false tip-off and eliminate him.” Owen hummed in agreement. “You’ve no clue the kinds of things that could set our superiors off.”

“Well... It’s Brian. The chances of him doing anything sketchy are slim to none.” Corey reasoned.

“Corey, I’m going to need you to put that gun down and put your hands behind your head.” Curt sighed.

“Alright, guys, places!” Joey called out to them. Everyone was backstage- except, oddly, Lauren (who was usually pretty punctual on cues). Shit. Their timing was awful. “You can play with the... are those our prop guns?”

“No... those are too modern.” Brian furrowed his brows, approaching them to get a closer look. He blinked before stumbling back. “Holy shit, guys... are those real guns?”

“Yes, they are... and you’re going to need to stay back.” Curt told them levelly. “Lubowich, gun down, hands behind your head.”

“We outgun and outman you.” Owen reminded him. The fact that Corey was so reluctant was astounding. “And we have a license to kill if you don’t cooperate.”

“Okay, guys, what the fuck?!” Joey exclaimed.

“Can we just... put the guns down and talk this out?” Tessa pleaded.

“No... we can’t.” Curt shook his head. “My name is Agent Curt Mega, American Secret Service. My partner is Owen Carvour, MI6.”

“Our credentials...” Owen muttered, pulling them out with one hand and holding them out to Brian, who was closest. He hesitantly took them. Corey shot Owen while he wasn’t in peak position to shoot him. Curt shot Corey back with no hesitation. Neither shot was fatal, Corey’s hitting Owen in the arm and Curt’s hitting Corey in the shoulder. The impact was enough to make both men stumble back. Owen stayed on his feet, but Corey fell. Curt kept his gun trained on Corey.

“Holy shit, they’re not lying...” Brian mumbled.

“Okay, Corey... what the actual fuck, man?!” Joey fumed, definitely feeling a bit betrayed.

“Corey... why are you fighting the secret service?” Mary Kate asked coolly, trying to be the level-headed one.

“He works for Chimera.” Curt told them, knowing they might not get a clear response from Corey for a bit.

“The assholes who wouldn’t fund us?” Brian groaned. Corey grunted in admittance. “Come on, man! This just keeps getting worse and worse!”

“Okay, guys, I’m here. Sorry I took so-” Lauren started, rushing out. She saw the scene playing out and blinked. “Holy fuck! What’s going on?!”

“They’re actual fucking spies, Lo.” Joey hissed. “All three of them.”

“Pretty sure Curt and Owen are the good guys.” Brian added in a whisper.

“Oh yeah, Curt and Owen are definitely the good guys.” Tessa gulped.

“Corey is an agent for Chimera.” Curt explained.

“Please tell me this is an elaborate prank.” Lauren chuckled nervously.

“No, Lo... this time it’s real.” Joey sighed.

“Okay, but... Chimera’s just a huge global corporation, right?” Mary Kate reasoned.

“Not really.” Corey croaked out.

“They’re plotting world domination.” Owen grunted.

“Corey...” Joey breathed.

“World domination makes it sound bad.” Corey grimaced. “We more just want control over every world government... and then maybe to take all of them out and form one Chimera government.”

“That doesn’t make it sound any better.” Tessa winced.

“Why?” Brian asked Corey, hurt. “Why are you doing this?”

“Honestly, I just needed a bit of extra money in college.” Corey muttered, trying and failing to find his footing. Clearly he wasn’t a field agent too often.

“So you turned to espionage?!” Lauren scoffed incredulously.

“Honestly I started as a delivery boy and then I found out some shit I should never have known...” Corey sighed. “It escalated really quickly.”

“God, this is a mess.” Joey groaned.

“Curt, love, can you give our superiors a ring?” Owen prompted him. “I’ll deal with our former friend here.”

“On it.” Curt nodded, pulling out his phone.

“So... do we stop the show?” Brian asked Owen as he pulled out a zip-tie- another essential item Owen always kept on him, even in costumes.

“Oh no... the A.S.S. is the epitome of discretion. Believe me, you’ll have no clue what’s going on. Just see if you can find a friend in the audience to go on for The Prince.” Owen told them, tying up Corey and forcing him onto his feet. “Owen will take him outside and... he should honestly be ready to go on after We Love The Prince.”

“Holy shit... okay...” Lauren sighed.

“I’ll make an announcement that we’re having technical difficulties...” Joey planned. “Let’s, um... just take a moment to breathe and get back into the right headspace.”

“We’ll be back in a moment.” Curt told them as he and Owen took Corey outside.

“Rot in hell, you asshole!” Brian called after him, sniffing. Was he... crying? You know what, it was completely fair. That was one hell of a betrayal.

So Curt and Owen passed Corey onto their superiors, and Spies Are Forever was able to go on. They got Nick Lang to play The Prince, which only made the fans more excited. Curt and Owen were allowed the opportunity to finish their run with the show- which Curt was so, so grateful for. He loved theatre. he never thought he would, but he loved it. And Owen loved that he loved it. Spies are Forever was the first of many shows for Curt. He got into the habit, like Owen, of doing shows between missions. In fact, he actually got to make Owen a little jealous later on- he got into a Starkid show. Mind you, they knew who he was. Fully this time. They even supported him- helped him build a public backstory. The real Curt Mega’s wife even played wife to him publicly when she needed to. It was a new start in Curt’s life and one that he hadn’t even known he needed. Finally, everything seemed like it was okay.

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raindancer2004 · 4 years ago

Text

A Cullen / Volturi Christmas

Word Count: 2,357 Demetri x OC Cullen Part Two Warnings: Fluff

Esme and Lily decided to have a mom and daughter day and left the castle to spend it shopping for gifts, which worked out well as it was the last castle ‘tour’ day before Christmas. Esme drove them to the mall and once there they began their Christmas shopping although Lily couldn’t buy her mom’s gift with her there and Esme didn’t buy Lily’s that day either. Esme treated them both to a manicure in the mall’s beauty salon. Lily opted for blue nails and had snowflakes painted onto her ring fingers; Esme opted for red nails and had a snowman painted onto her ring fingers. “Thank you mom for the manicure” Lily said as she hugged her mom “You’re very welcome sweetie” Esme replied smiling.

Once Lily and Esme had finished shopping they made their way back to the car “Mom, will you help me with something but it involves going back into the mall?” Lily asked Esme as they were putting the bags in the car “Of course. What do you require help with?” Esme asked smiling “You’ll see” Lily replied smiling as they made their way back into the mall and down to the Christmas shop.

Demetri was surprised when he returned from guard duty that evening to find that Lily had bought and decorated a 4ft Christmas tree that now sat in the corner of his room between his desk and the bookcase. He also noticed that Lily had bought him a Christmas stocking with his name on and had hung it on his fireplace alongside one with her name on. “I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to make your room feel a little…festive seeing as we spend so much time in here” She said smiling at him “I don’t mind, it was just a surprise that’s all. The tree looks beautiful and thank you for the stocking.” He replied smiling, trying to ignore the warm feeling running through him, knowing that he was starting to feel fond of her “You’re welcome” She replied smiling “I have one back home and thought it’d be nice to hang a couple over your fireplace. There was a stall in the mall that personalised stockings and tree decorations” She added still smiling at him “I must admit I don’t usually decorate my room at Christmas but it does look really nice, although the tree is missing something” He said pointing at it only just noticing there was nothing on top of the tree “Oh yeah. Here I left this for you to put on the tree” She said as he handed him a white star and watched him place it atop the tree.

The following evening Demetri took Lily’s warm hand in his cold one and led her down to the family room for what was supposed to be movie night, but Caius had decided on something a little different. “Right now you are all here; I can tell you the plan for tonight. Athenodora and I have spoken and instead of family movie night we’re going to have a family games night” Caius said addressing the room. “Bella will you shield the other teams’ thoughts from Edward so it’s a fair game for all” He added “Of course Caius” She replied; everyone was surprised that he had asked her rather than making it an order.

The teams were; ‘The Cullens’ – consisting of Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, Rosalie, Alice, Jasper, Edward and Bella, ‘The Royals and the guard’ – consisting of Marcus, Aro, Sulpicia, Caius, Athenodora, Corin, Afton and Renata, ‘Lily and the non-veggies’ – consisting of Felix, Jane, Alec, Demetri, Lily, Chelsea, Heidi and Santiago.

Once each team had a name they let the other teams know. “Who came up with their team name?” Bella asked Edward chuckling and pointing at Lily’s team “Felix did. He thought it would be funny and the others didn’t object” Edward replied smiling. “I can’t believe a Cullen is on the same team as the Volturi” Emmett said “Yeah, who would have thought?” Afton agreed “Lily is an honorary Volturi as she is staying with Demetri” Aro said smiling “Not to mention it makes the number of people on a team fair too” Jane added. Gianna was the one who created and read out the Quiz questions ensuring that there were topics for everyone “I have used Wikipedia and google for some of the answers so if any of the ‘History’ questions are not quite accurate you know why” Gianna smiled nervously “It’s ok my dear” Aro replied smiling. Lily’s team did really well when it came to answering questions to do with current music stars, modern films etc. “I’m glad you’re on our team cara or we probably wouldn’t have done so well” Demetri whispered in her ear, causing her to smile “See us humans have…other uses” She whispered back and giving him a wink; he nodded chuckling low “So it would seem.” Marcus smiled seeing Demetri and Lily getting along so well.

Once the quiz was over they played charades, again Gianna had written down some ideas. Edward tried acting out ‘First man on the moon’ and the Cullens didn’t guess correctly “That was a bad impression bro” Emmett called out once Gianna called time “I did my best” Edward replied. Lily got a bit creative when it was her turn; she walked over to Aro and began miming a conversation with him “Interview with a Vampire” Demetri called out pointing at them “Yep” Lily replied smiling and gave Demetri a high five before sitting back down beside him. Corin acted out the ‘can-can’ which had everyone laughing and as a result her team almost missed correctly guessing the mime. Jasper went next and mimed ‘running man.’ When it was Demetri’s turn he pretended to eat something then fell to the floor with his eyes closed “Snow White and the seven Dwarves” Lily called out smiling, Demetri got up and nodded at her “Well done cara” He smiled down at her. “How do they do that?” Afton asked “I don’t know but it works in our favour” Chelsea replied smiling at her mate.

At the end of the night before everyone left Felix gained the room’s attention “Right Christmas is two weeks away and the Cullens have agreed to do Secret Santa with us this year. I have put all of the names in this bowl so please come and pick a piece of paper out of the bowl to find out who you are buying for” Everyone chose their ‘person’ and Lily smiled when she got Jane as she knew exactly what to get her from the conversations that they had had, where they had gotten to know one another a little better. Felix had picked Lily’s name and made a mental note to ask Alice or Esme for ideas as he didn’t really know much about her.

The Cullens had been at the castle for two weeks when their month long stay was extended until after the New Year at Marcus’ request. Carlisle was sitting in Marcus’ private study and they were reminiscing about the years when Carlisle lived with them when Marcus changed the subject “Carlisle I would like you and your family to extend your stay here by two weeks so you leave mid-January instead of a few days after New Year’s” “Is there a particular reason for the offer to extend our stay here Marcus?” Marcus thought for a moment before answering “No, nothing in particular I would just like to have you and your family around for a little longer” “I will speak with Esme but I do not see it being a problem” Carlisle replied and Marcus nodded. Carlisle sensed Marcus was up to something he just wasn’t quite sure what.

Demetri had gotten used to hearing Lily play her favourite Christmas songs low in the background during her stay in his room. Once she found out his favourite Christmas songs she added them to her playlist and he was both surprised and pleased the first time he heard his favourites playing amongst hers. He also found that sharing his room with her was easy as she was just as tidy and organised as him, she enjoyed reading and he found himself enjoying her company and the conversations they had by the fire. ‘I could get used to this, to having her around’ Demetri thought to himself one night after they had spent the night talking and laughing about the antics that go on both at her house and in the castle; discovering that Emmett and Felix had more in common that people would think. He also found that the slight burning feeling in the back of his throat when he was around her was becoming easier to deal with; so much so he rarely noticed it was there now.

Demetri, Felix and Alec were sent out to track down a couple of rogues who were hunting a little too close to Volterra and would enter the city of an evening. They were gone for the day and warned them to move on; however one of the rogues didn’t like the warning and went for Alec and got himself dismembered and set alight by the three of them. The other two rogues took off running and vowed never to set foot in the Volterra again.

The following morning Demetri went Christmas shopping for his Secret Santa; he had gotten Renesmee and bought her ‘Beach Barbie and Barbie’s Beach House’ as he remembered Gianna had told him that all little girls loved that sort of thing, when she’d bought one for her niece’s birthday a few months prior. Demetri bought a gift for Felix and Heidi as he always did but this year he bought a few extra gifts that were to be given to Lily as he enjoyed her company and had started to think of her as more than just his friend’s daughter. He was pleased with his purchases and couldn’t wait to see everyone open their gifts, especially Lily. He wrapped the gifts that night whilst she slept and hid them at the back of one of the cupboards in the closet knowing Lily would never look in there and because it was out her reach.

Lily went shopping that afternoon with Chelsea as they had gotten the twins for their Secret Santa. Lily bought Jane make-up from Mac; two x eye shadow quads, a contouring kit and a selection of lip pink glosses. Chelsea bought Alec a book of poetry and a book containing 365 puzzles; one for each day of the year. Lily bought her mom’s gift too during this trip deciding on a rose gold bracelet with a heart charm and her mom’s favourite bath products. Lily also bought a few extra gifts that Christmas, which were for Demetri as a thank you for sharing his room with her and because she had come to think of him as a friend, although she secretly hoped it would become more. Chelsea smiled at Lily “It’s nice that you bought him something, he’ll appreciate it” “Thank you Chelsea, but please don’t tell anyone” Lily replied “Of course not hunny, this stays between us. I promise” Chelsea responded and drew a cross over her frozen heart; both of them giggling.

Later that evening Lily decided to run herself a bath and used one of her Cranberry Martini bath bombs. The bath was ready and she was in the closet looking for something comfortable to change into and decided to borrow one of Demetri’s jumpers, knowing he wouldn’t mind. Meanwhile, Demetri had returned to his room after being on guard duty that afternoon and could hear soft music playing and the smell of Cranberry coming from the bathroom and noticed the bath full of hot water and bubbles ‘Don’t mind if I do’ he thought to himself as he quickly undressed and climbed in the bath; the hot water relaxing his tired muscles. Lily entered the bathroom in just her robe and dropped it to the floor and turned around to climb in the bath when she saw Demetri laying in the tub with a big smile on his face “Hello darling, I must say...this is a beautiful sight to come home to” He winked at her “Well make some room then” She said and walked towards the tub; Demetri’s eyebrow rose in surprise “I ran the bath for myself using one of my favourite bath bombs…so now we’re sharing seeing as your tub is big enough for two” She added climbing in the bath and adding some more hot water. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him; her back resting against his chest “Who knew sharing my room with you would lead to having a bath with you” He said low in her ear “This is our little secret…if you want this to be repeated whilst I’m staying here” She said as she shifted slightly in his arms so she could look at him “So this ‘accident’ can be repeated…huh…my lips are sealed” He replied smiling and placed a kiss to her shoulder; her eyes closing at the feel of his lips on her skin, he left a trail of soft kisses along her shoulder working his way up her neck before capturing her lips in a light kiss. They looked at each other for a moment before she leaned up slightly and pressed her lips to his; one of his hands made its way to her face, gently turning it towards him allowing him to deepen the kiss “Wow” She breathed out when he pulled away allowing her to breath; he nodded and they both leaned into one another sharing another kiss before she relaxed in his arms enjoying their shared bath ‘Mine’ he thought as they laid there; him holding her close to him.

That night as he sat on his bed reading one thought kept going round in his head ‘How do I show her she’s mine’ He smiled looking down at her asleep in his bed; then it hit him ‘Jewellery.’

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phantom-curve · 4 years ago

Note

44 for willex and au of your choice! If you’re still taking prompts

Oop this prompt invaded my brain and ran off into the sunset. I definitely didn’t mean for it to get as long as it did, but here we are! From the gimme a chance AU, I give you 3 times Willie sat on Alex’s lap +1 time Alex sat on Willie’s (these span the time between all the other one-shots I wrote for Willex in this universe!)

#44: sitting on the other’s lap (Rated a heavy T for some adult themes and language. Also available on ao3!)

Willie hardly ever thought about it anymore. When they were out in public, when they were at the studio with Luke and Reggie for band practice, when they were just hanging around one of their apartments, he never really thought about them in terms of dating. He kind of more thought about them in terms of forever. Not that he was rushing anything, but more that there was a kind of aura around Alex, a kind of energy, that had a way of sinking into Willie’s very bones and saying hey, I’m gonna stick around for the rest of your life that made him think in terms of absolutes. Alex was an absolute. Willie was totally a-okay with that.

The thing that bothered him though, was the fact that Alex didn’t seem to get it.

He still waited for Willie to offer his hand to hold. He didn’t kiss him unless Willie made it painfully obvious that he was okay with that. He hadn’t even managed to get him to spend the night yet because Alex always came up with a reason to go home before Willie could even try to extend the invitation.

And it wasn’t that Alex wasn’t into him. He was. He so totally was. Willie knew that. But it was like he was afraid to own up to it. Which Willie could kind of understand. They had talked about their families and while Willie was lucky to be fully accepted for who he was at home, Alex’s parents were a different story.

They weren’t outright cruel, they had still provided the necessities in the form of food, water, and shelter while Alex had been living at home, but they didn’t love any more. They didn’t talk, they didn’t help, they just ghosted along as if they had never been a part of Alex’s life in the first place. It seemed worse than outright hatred, but Alex claimed it was better than nothing. After all, it had meant that they didn’t ask where he had been or where he was going or when he would be home, which had kinda been a dream as a high schooler. Other kids had wished they had that kind of freedom, Alex told him. Not worth complaining about. It had basically been like having roommates, which was great practice for when he moved out and actually had roommates, Alex said, and Willie pretended all of that was normal because he could tell Alex wanted it to be. They didn’t talk about how now that Alex was living on his own his parents had completely dropped all communication with him. Willie just made a note of it and decided he would make up for all that affection Alex had been missing out on.

So, Willie carried on the way he was used to when it came to being interested in someone and in a relationship with them. He complimented Alex, gave him cute little nicknames, and generally tried to see how often he could manage to make the other boy blush. One of the most successful tactics he had found was sitting in Alex’s lap, especially when he least expected it.

Like right now, in the middle of a Sunset Curve practice.

Luke had been getting frustrated with part of the melody of a new song or something, and Reggie had finally told him to just jam it out until he found the notes he was looking for, and Alex had paused his drumming, tucking his sticks into one hand, and reaching down with the other to grab the large water bottle he kept at his feet when he played. He watched the way the light caught on Alex’s hair as he flicked it off his face, turning the blonde strands into spun gold. Found himself mesmerized by the lines of Alex’s jaw and neck as he tipped his head back to rehydrate. His feet moved on their own, pulling him over to his boyfriend’s side like Alex was a magnet and Willie was made of metal.

Alex quirked a brow at him as he lowered the water bottle, but Willie didn’t say anything. Just grinned and plopped himself down right on Alex’s lap, even though he knew the stool was only meant to hold one person’s weight and Alex had grumbled more than once over Luke and Reggie messing with it. Alex didn’t grumble at him though. Especially not when he looped his arms around the other boy’s neck and leaned forward to place a kiss against his temple. Alex’s cheeks blushed Willie’s favorite shade of pink, the one that almost matched the hoodie he always wore.

“You looked a little lonely over here. Thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi.”

Alex’s lips parted as he breathed out the word, his eyes softening the way they did every time Willie looked into them for a beat too long. Willie felt his smile widen. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of sweaty band boys and fresh linen and Alex’s honey vanilla shampoo. Alex started to slip his own arms around Willie’s waist, his head tilted up as his gaze fell to his lips. And then an extra loud guitar chord rang out through the amps and Alex jumped, nearly dumping Willie on the ground.

“Alright, lovebirds, enough! I figured out what was wrong with the chord progression. I just gotta switch it from a G chord to a...”

Willie tuned out, never fully able to follow along when Luke got going on a musical tangent. Instead, he pressed one quick kiss to Alex’s lips and stood, slipping out from behind the kit to return to his original position on the couch set up across from where the boys stood to play. Alex watched him with a soft smile and starry eyes before giving his head a quick shake and refocusing on Luke, cheeks still tinged that pale pink that made Willie’s heart soar. Willie tucked the memory away with all his other favorite Alex moments and watched the band get back to it, head bobbing along as he watched his boyfriend shine. And if he made sure to keep his gaze firmly focused on Alex, winking every now and then just so he could see that blush creep back in, well no one else had to know about that but him.

Surprisingly, the hardest part of dating a guy like Alex, a guy who was beautiful and effortlessly sexy and regularly doing something that gave literally anybody a free pass to ogle him for as long as his band was up on stage, was the fact that his boyfriend seemed to have no fucking clue just how attractive he was. And he was also shockingly bad at knowing when someone was hitting on him. Willie was pretty sure if he hadn’t asked Alex on a date after running him over, the guy would have never made a move. And that was afterWillie spent 20 minutes openly flirting with him and dropping ten-ton hints as he helped him clean up and bandage his wounds. It was simultaneously adorable and exhausting, because it meant that sometimes Willie had to watch people chat up his boyfriend while Alex awkwardly bumbled his way through what he assumed was a friendly conversation.

Willie, as a rule, did not get jealous. Jealousy was for people who had trust issues, and Willie trusted Alex more than he had ever trusted a single other person before. So, he wasn’t jealous, per se, as he made his way through the crowd, eyes locked on the back of the guy casually leaning over where Alex was sitting alone in a booth against the wall. He was actually a bit concerned because Alex looked uncomfortable, and he hadn’t thought to tell him that he was gonna make it to the show tonight, which had seemed like a romantic idea at the time but obviously wasn’t because Alex was drumming one of his hands against his thighs and tapping his fingers against the back of his phone on the table in front of him with the other.

He was probably waiting for Willie to call him, because that was something Willie had been doing now that he had gone pro and started traveling for competitions on the weekend instead of showing up at Ebbie’s to cheer on the band from the front row. He had been a little late to snag a front row spot this weekend, barely making it for the last couple of songs in the set. But he had made it, because the competition had ended up getting rained out and Willie had braved the hours of Saturday evening traffic back to LA so that he could see his boyfriend in person instead of through a phone screen.

His boyfriend who was now being hit on by a complete stranger in a crowded bar where Luke and Reggie were nowhere to be found. Willie frowned slightly as he watched Alex draw back into the booth a bit more, both hands picking up speed as they continued to mindlessly tap out a rhythm. No, Willie wasn’t jealous. He was mad that this dude wasn’t picking up on Alex’s cues and backing off. So, now that he was only a few steps away, he skipped forward and made his presence known.

“Hey Hotdog, you looked pretty good up there tonight.”

Alex’s face lit up like the 4th of July, his green gaze skipping past the guy invading his space and latching onto Willie like he was seeing the sun for the first time. Willie felt his lips curve into a soft smile. The unknown guy straightened a bit, eyes skipping back and forth between Alex and Willie, brow furrowed. Willie didn’t have the capacity to help the dude connect the dots, because all he could focus on was Alex and how fast his expression had changed upon hearing Willie’s voice.

“Willie.”

Alex’s tone was quiet and awed, like he had conjured Willie up out of thin air. His hands stilled, and Willie couldn’t resist anymore. He slipped past the stranger who was finally starting to back up and step away, hands raised slightly as if to say sorry, bro, didn’t know you had a boyfriend, and wormed his way into the booth, settling himself on Alex’s lap. Alex leaned forward, his head falling to rest in the crook of Willie’s neck, breath stuttering out and sending a wave of goosebumps across his skin.

“I didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

“Comp got cancelled. And I missed you.”

Willie dropped a kiss on the top of Alex’s blonde head, breathing in the distinct honey-vanilla-laundry scent that always got a bit more intense after a show. Alex’s cheeks warmed, Willie delighting in the fact that he could actually feel the blush against his own skin, and his lips moved against the hollow of Willie’s throat.

“I always miss you.”

The words were tempered with gentle kisses and Willie thought he might melt into the floor right there on the spot. He didn’t censor his next words, let the longing bleed through so Alex understood just how badly he wanted to be with him.

“Come home with me tonight then. I think six months of dating is long enough to move into sleepover territory.”

Alex’s arms squeezed around his waist for a brief second, Willie biting his tongue as he listened to Alex’s breath hitch and then pick up a bit faster than before. He pulled his head out of Willie’s neck, mouth open to answer, when the other two-thirds of Sunset Curve suddenly arrived at the table in their typical whirlwind fashion. They called out happy greetings as they clocked Willie’s arrival, slipping into the other side of the booth. Willie smiled and tried to focus on what they were saying so he could beat back the disappointment of not getting an answer. He only startled slightly when Alex’s lips were suddenly at his ear.

“Six months of dating is definitely long enough. Take me home, pretty boy.”

And Willie felt his own cheeks heat, prayed that Luke and Reggie wouldn’t spot the change in the low light as he settled himself further into Alex’s embrace. He kept himself occupied with linking his fingers through Alex’s where they still wrapped around his waist and tried not to think too much about finally getting to sleep next to the guy he was falling more in love with every day as he counted down the minutes to bar close.

He wasn’t even surprised when he woke up in the morning and realized a feeling of homecoming had settled fully and deeply into his heart and soul. At some point in the last six months home and Alex had become synonymous anyway.

The worst part about getting in a car accident and breaking his leg in three places was the fact that Willie couldn’t skate for several months while he recovered and went through physical therapy and all the other bullshit necessary to make sure he was strong enough to compete at a similar level as before. His sponsors had been understanding and Willie was able to do little things here and there to fulfill his contracts, so he wasn’t too worried about any of that for the time being. Mostly he was just bored and fidgety. But it was okay, because the best part about getting in car accident and breaking his leg in three places was having Alex as his caretaker while he recovered.

Alex, who had shown up at the hospital when Willie was still groggy from surgery and climbed into bed with him and kissed his bruises and told him he loved him. Alex, who had come back to the hospital every chance he got for the week Willie was stuck there post-op. Alex, who had practically moved into Willie’s apartment once he was sent home, even though they had both agreed they weren’t ready to live together yet, because Willie needed someone to help him get to and from the bathroom and shower and Alex was obviously his first choice despite the fact that Willie had three capable roommates who had offered to help.

Alex was the best part about his recovery, hands down. Except for the fact that he seemed to think Willie was made of glass now.

They were supposed to be having a movie night at the Sunset Curve apartment. Willie had gotten his cast off and been switched to a walking boot earlier that day, and he had told Alex he would come by after he left the hospital because he needed a break from the same four walls of his bedroom. Luke and Reggie had sent a text that they were picking up a pizza and drinks, so Willie had hoped for maybe a little bit of make-out action on the couch before they got back. Instead, Alex had fretted and fluttered about, forcing Willie to lay down on the couch with his leg elevated while Alex plumped his pillows and asked him a million times if he was feeling okay. Willie had been about ready to tackle Alex just to get him to shut up, still healing leg be damned, when Luke and Reggie came back.

Then it had been an argument over what to watch with Reggie insisting they hadn’t watched Star Wars recently even though they definitely had, and by the time the yellow words were rolling across the screen Willie realized Alex had opted for the floor next to the couch instead of the actual couch itself. He had his arm stretched out along Willie’s hip, but it wasn’t nearly enough contact. So, Willie swung his legs over the edge of the couch and stood, before unceremoniously dropping himself down directly in Alex’s lap. Alex let out an indignant huff, rolling his eyes as Reggie turned to shush him.

“Willie, what the hell? Get back on the couch, you need to rest your leg.”

Willie rolled his own eyes, snuggling further into Alex’s chest, winding his arms around the back of his neck to play with the blonde hair that was a bit overgrown at the back.

“No, I need to cuddle with my boyfriend. You keep acting like you’re gonna hurt me if you touch me and its honestly pretty rude. I’m not that breakable.”

Alex made sound of protest in the back of his throat, his hands waving around and above Willie’s booted leg.

“Obviously you are very breakable!”

“Yeah, in a fight with a car,” Willie snorted, sighing and refusing to budge even an inch. “You could never hurt me. C’mon, baby, please?”

Alex flushed from head to toe. Willie didn’t usually break out the softer pet names unless they were alone because they kind of made Alex blue screen, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Willie pressed a kiss against Alex’s throbbing pulse as well, in for a penny, in for a pound and all that.

“Guys,” Reggie whined, “can you like...take it to the bedroom or shut up? Some of us are trying to watch the Empire strike back here.”

And Alex, sweet, beautiful, perfect Alex, scooped Willie up like he weighed nothing at all, cheeks still pink and eyes unfocused in a way that told Willie his mind had taken a nosedive into the gutter. He couldn’t help but laugh, clinging on so that he wasn’t complete deadweight in Alex’s very capable arms.

“Dude, seriously?” He heard Luke call out, but the sound was muffled quickly behind Alex’s bedroom door as it closed, the lock clicking into place.

“That wasn’t fair.”

Alex’s tone didn’t match his words, his voice going breathless as he snuggled both of them into the bed, his hands sneaking under the hem of Willie’s crop top to skim along his ribs.

“All’s fair in love and war, babe.”

Willie let Alex swallow the sound of his laugh, lips meeting for the much-anticipated make-out session he had been hoping for earlier. Movie night was forgotten. By the time the sun was rising, Willie was pretty sure he had convinced Alex exactly how not breakable he was.

Alex wasn’t usually the one to initiate physical contact. Willie was completely at ease handing out kisses and hugs and linking their fingers together whenever it suited him, but Alex wasn’t quite as uninhibited. He had gotten better over the last year or so of dating, but he still wasn’t quite as casual with it. It was easier when they were alone, Willie’s lingering glances and complimentary words making him feel bold and confident.

It was kind of a running joke between them, the fact that Alex had initiated their first kiss so suddenly only to then spend the rest of their relationship holding himself back a bit. And even though Willie never meant it as more than a tease, Alex had been genuinely trying to change that about himself. He had started therapy and he was doing the work to unpack all of the ways his parents had fucked him up over the years. He was learning and growing, and not just for Willie, but for himself. It was nice.

Okay, it was really fucking hard and stressful. But it was also kind of working. Alex had found himself feeling a lot less anxious, especially when Willie was out of town competing and Alex had flashbacks to the car accident and other minor injuries Willie had sustained while on the road. He had learned some new coping mechanisms, and he had started to be a bit freer with his own physical affection. Which definitely had some very nice side effects.

Side effects like finally being the one to make Willie blush and blank out for once.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. They had been dating for over a year, they regularly spent the night together, they were fully committed to each other. They had sex for Christ’s sake, so nothing should have felt like too much intimacy wise. And it didn’t. Until they were at some BBQ for one of Willie’s skater friends and Alex started to feel a bit overwhelmed, but instead of taking himself into the bathroom to have a quiet moment and pull it together, he found Willie, sitting next to a fire pit with a beer in hand. He didn’t even think twice before dropping into his lap and snatching the can from Willie’s grasp to steal a sip.

The contact was instantly comforting, and Alex suddenly realized that must be why Willie was constantly crawling into his own lap. It felt cozy and safe in his boyfriend’s arms, every part of him warm and close enough for Alex to inhale the scent of coconut shampoo mixed with cherry Chapstick. It was only when he went to return the beer can to Willie that he realized he had kind of frozen. For one second, Alex let himself panic that he had gone too far, done something wrong that would end up ruining everything, and then he realized Willie was breathing a lot faster than normal, one of his hands finding purchase against Alex’s waist and squeezing. The conversation carried on around them, but time seemed to stand still within their own personal little bubble.

“Alex, you cannot just do that and expect me not to want you six ways to Sunday now.”

Willie’s breath was hot against Alex’s neck, his words coming out fast and furious like he had to say them all now before he couldn’t speak at all. Alex felt his cheeks warm as he turned his head slightly to meet Willie’s eyes. His pupils were wide, cheeks the kind of ruddy dark brown that Alex had learned meant he was definitely blushing too. The fingers on the hand that was clenched around Alex’s hip danced across the thin strip of skin between his pants and his shirt, drawing a series of patterns across Alex’s side that made him shiver. Willie groaned beneath him, the sound breathless and just loud enough for Alex to hear. He smirked, wiggling a little like he was trying to get more comfortable.

“Lex, I swear to God I will make out with you so hard right in front of all these people. It won’t bother me. You gotta stop it unless you’re willing to risk that.”

Alex kinda wanted to risk it. Knowing he made Willie feel that out of control was a huge rush. God, he really should have taken advantage of all this physical stuff a lot earlier, huh?

“You wanna make out with me here, or you wanna make out with me back at your apartment?”

Alex kept his voice hushed, dipping his head so his lips were right next to Willie’s ear. Willie shuddered beneath him and then downed his beer in one long swallow. He nudged Alex to standing, following him but not moving out from his spot slightly behind him as his hand fit itself more snuggly into place along Alex’s waist.

“Gents,” he addressed the other skaters scattered around the fire with a two fingered salute, “Lex and I gotta get going. Got some plans to take care of.”

Alex tried not to snort and blush at the obvious undertone to Willie’s words. The rest of the group had no such qualms, hooting and hollering as Willie practically dragged Alex out of the back yard, hand raising to give them a middle finger when Alex heard Max call out get you some, Stewart! Alex laughed, stepping up close behind Willie as they came around to the front of the house, voice dipping low in a tease.

“Jeez, Wils, who knew sitting in your lap would do it for you?”

Willie turned without warning, catching Alex before he could trip into him and surging forward to connect their lips in a kiss that featured a bit more teeth than usual.

“You do it for me, Alex. It’s all you, all the time. God, I fucking love you.”

Alex didn’t get a chance to respond before Willie was pulling away and ushering Alex into his car. He linked their hands together on the console between the seats, and Alex didn’t even complain once about his speeding. He was too busy thinking up all the other things he could do to make Willie lose it in public like that again. He had a lot of time to make up for, and the rest of their lives to do so.

#mads writes #gimme a chance #jatp #julie and the phantoms #willex #jatp ficlet #willex ficlet #send me prompts for my birthday!#<- literally just tagging that for consistency #alex mercer #willie jatp

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