#so breeze is the least frustrating party member

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than eepyness

The final Miitopia party has been formed, with Jamie reclassed into a Princess, Breeze the Tank, Elian the Cat, and last but not least, Kindness Anon the Flower!

[girlwiththepapatattoo]

The Unlikely Similarities Between Kittens and Vampires, Chapter 11

Warnings: Astarion being himself, a couple suggestive moments, trauma talk

Summary: Some words of wisdom from the newest member of the group, and then later on a party of two.

Notes: I hate editing, but at least editing got this chapter to a place that I like. Enjoy everyone! <3

Read on Ao3 here!

Previous Chapter | First Chapter

A soft breeze ruffles the plants along the path down to the water. The early morning sun beams gentle light down over the earth, sparkling off the river’s deep teal surface. Warming, too, the glossy black fur of the tiny cat that lies on the edge of an overhang just above where the water laps at the end of the path. Bright hazel eyes look out over the water’s path, the kitten’s little chin resting on her paws. 

The sudden scraping of a boot on stone behind her makes her leap up and into a ready-to-flee position, but she immediately relaxes when she sees it’s just Halsin. He lifts his hands as he approaches. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says softly. “I saw you run down here like the hells were after you. Wanted to make sure you’re all right.” 

As he sits down next to her, his long legs dangling off the edge of the rock, he can hear her start purring just a little. It makes him smile. I’m all right, she says, her words filtering through the magic of his speak with animals spell (that he never really turns off). 

“Glad to hear it,” he replies, leaning back on his hands. “What were you running from, if I could ask?” 

She’s quiet for a moment, before sighing and sitting in a loaf position next to him. I got embarrassed.

“Hm. About anything in particular?” 

He glances down, seeing her stiff posture, her little tail twitching in the dirt. …thank you, for last night, she says instead. 

“No need for that, my friend,” he murmurs. “Astarion didn’t need the nudge as much as you did, I think.” 

I…think you’re right, she says softly, sounding frustrated at herself. I know there’s nothing wrong with…with sex. It’s a natural thing. But…up until last night and this morning, it was a natural thing that didn’t happen to me.

“New things can be scary,” Halsin agrees. “But was the fear worth it?” Almost immediately, she breaks out into a purr so loud he’s not sure how her little body can produce the sound. He can’t help but laugh, reaching out and giving the top of her head a little scritch. “Good! I’m very glad that it worked out so well then. But that doesn’t explain why you were so embarrassed you ran all the way out here.” 

She tells him what had happened, what Astarion had said to the cleric. I know logically that the rest of the group were going to find out eventually. Especially if he and I um…indulge in camp again. But I’d been hoping that it would have come out, say, around dinner, when I could have had a hand in the conversation. Not…like that. And what he said… 

He chuckles softly, his warm eyes watching the water flowing downstream. “I think Astarion was lashing out defensively, little one. He didn’t appreciate being interrupted with his new lover. And, as he has the razor-sharp wit to let someone know when he’s displeased, well…I’m certainly not surprised he said something like that.” 

That’s…a really good point. She heaves a tiny sigh. I need to learn to stop running away every time I’m embarrassed like this. I just get so overwhelmed…I wish I was bolder, like Astarion is.

Halsin laughs, loud and long. “I’m sorry, I’m–ha–I’m just picturing two Astarions in camp. Oh, the chaos…” Sable can’t help but giggle along with him. Then he sighs and looks at her seriously. “Being bold is a fine thing, my friend. But never forget that you’re you. Learn from these new experiences at your own pace, and those who know you, truly know you, will care for you regardless of how bold you are.” He smiles faintly. “I’m sure that’s why Astarion hasn’t come looking for you. He figures that you want some time alone to process.” 

There’s a flash of golden light, and when it fades Sable the woman is sitting next to him, smiling faintly. “I think you’re right. About…about all of it. I’ll try and be kinder to myself.” 

“Good,” he replies, content with her answer. “If anyone deserves kindness shown to them, it’s you.” He stands, offering her a hand up, which she takes. “Now. I believe we promised our friends some mending spells. Shall we go find them?”

“Oh! Yes, let’s go!” 

Feeling much better about what had happened earlier, Sable walks beside her new friend, happiness swirling in her heart. 

A happiness that only grows once they reach the group and she sees Astarion, sitting on a wooden crate, bent over his sewing. The morning sun lights up his profile, turning his curls into a halo of silver. His long, slender fingers handle the needle deftly, neat rows of stitching appearing in the fabric, hidden where they need to be hidden. His lips are parted ever so faintly, the tip of his tongue held very gently between his fang and regular canine tooth. 

So caught up by the sight, she doesn't notice Wyll stepping up beside her, a soft smile on his lips. “Someone’s a little love-struck,” he murmurs softly, and she immediately blushes, tearing her gaze away. 

“That obvious?” she asks, smiling weakly, and he chuckles. 

“Yes, but it’s not a bad thing. I’m glad for you.” He pauses, then sighs and lowers his voice even more. “Just be careful. You’re a very sweet woman, and he’s…well. I wouldn’t see you hurt, let’s put it that way.” 

Sable’s immediate reaction is to scowl at him. She wants to snap, it’s plain on her face, wants to tell him that his judgment is as wrong as it was with Karlach. Instead, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I get it. But…he’s not just the way he presents himself,” she says, and though she keeps her voice down, it’s full of confidence. “I appreciate your concern, I do. But I…we’ll be fine.” 

“For your sake, I hope you're right.” He gives her shoulder a pat and moves off, his leather armor in one hand and a small bag of tools in the other. 

Sable shakes her head, annoyance swirling in her gut. She knows they mean well, but it’s also not like she can just blurt out what she knows about him to change their minds, either. He’s let her in, and no one else. So she’ll have to grin and bear the comments. 

Though, she thinks as she crosses to him, if they get too annoying I’ll just shapeshift. Then they’ll have to bear it. Literally.

Astarion looks up as she approaches, and she sees the difference in his posture immediately. His shoulders relax, his eyes fill with fondness, and his smile softens out a little. “There’s my darling kitten,” he all but purrs, shifting over on the crate to make room for her. “I was wondering where you’d run off to.” 

“Sorry,” she says softly, sitting down and leaning her head on his shoulder. He blinks down to her in surprise–this is positively bold for her. “Got a little overwhelmed, but I’m okay now.” 

“Good,” he murmurs, and he leans over and brushes a kiss over her forehead. “I’d figured you needed some time to think.” 

“Yeah. Thank you,” she murmurs, unable to stop the smile from curling her lips. 

“Oh? For what, darling?” He looks back down to his sewing, and she watches his wingers weave the cloth together. Looks like one of Gale’s shirts. 

“For understanding me so well already,” she replies softly. 

His fingers pause for a brief second, before continuing on. “Yes, well, you’re not exactly hard to read, kitten,” he teases gently, and she huffs, though not really offended. “But you’re welcome. If you need space, you need space. All you have to do is say so. Or, you know, turn tiny and run, that sends a pretty clear message.” 

She can’t help but laugh, quickly smothering it behind her hand. Then Lae’zel is coming over with some armor covered in dings and dents, and her hands glow a soft blue as she starts mending it. 

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

The celebration party is in full swing. Sable’s lost count of how many people offer their thanks, or sing her praises (once literally, in the case of the bard Alfira), or offer her drinks which she politely declines. A couple of her new friends are very much enjoying all the attention. Several have made themselves scarce, and she wishes she could do the same, honestly. 

She finds Astarion near his tent, a bottle in hand and a grimace on his face. “After all we did for them, you’d think they’d offer us better wine,” he says to her, just a little of the grimace lifting in her presence. 

She shrugs, smiling as she steps up to his side. She doesn’t touch him, unsure if, after all the socializing he’s been nearly forced to do, he’d welcome the contact. She itches to put her arms around him, though… “I wouldn’t know about wine, Astarion,” she says softly. 

“Not much of a drinker, hm?” he asks softly, and to her delight he winds his own arm around her waist. He smiles faintly as she all but melts into him, laying her head on his shoulder. “You’re lucky in this case. Damn stuff tastes like vinegar.” 

“Is it really that bad?” she asks, a little disbelief cutting through the contentment. 

“Have a sip yourself.” He offers her the bottle, watching as she lifts it and takes a sniff. Her nose wrinkles at the smell, and he has to fight the urge to tell her it’s one of the cutest things he’s ever seen. She takes a very small sip and immediately spits it out. “See? Awful.” 

“Ugh, is that what all alcohol tastes like?” she gasps, wiping her mouth. “Why even bother?” 

He laughs faintly. “Gods, no, not all alcohol tastes like that! Once we’re back in Baldur’s Gate, I’ll take you out somewhere nice. We’ll get you a cocktail that tastes like delectable fruit juice, but will knock you right onto that cute little ass of yours.” 

As he’d hoped, she turns red and gently swats his chest. “Astarion!” 

His mood thoroughly lifted, he snickers and lowers his head, nuzzling gently against the scabbed over bite marks on her throat. “Yes, my sweet? Did I say something wrong?” 

She shivers, her eyes fluttering closed as she feels him gently lick at one scab. “N-Not out in front of everyone!” 

He huffs softly. “Darling, everyone is so thoroughly sloshed right now that no one’s going to remember this. Buuuut, if it will make you more comfortable, how about we go somewhere more private?” 

She looks up at him as he straightens, that little smirk she likes so much on his beautiful lips. “I…I’d like that.” 

The smirk deepens, and he lifts her hand, brushing a lingering kiss over her knuckles. Her heart skips a beat as his eyes darken. “Well then. Let us venture into the night, my sweet.”

Mouth dry from his words and that simple touch alone, she lets him tug her off, deeper into the Grove and away from the party. They wind up underneath a tree near the river, higher up than where she and Halsin had their talk earlier that day. Astarion sits and leans up against the tree, and when she hesitates he quirks an eyebrow and points at the spot between his legs. 

This man is going to kill me, she thinks, but sits down between his splayed thighs and leans back against his chest. “There we are,” he purrs into her ear. “Nice and cozy.” 

She sighs and relaxes as his arms wrap around her waist. “Very cozy…it’s nice to be close to someone.” 

“It is, isn’t it?” he murmurs, brushing his lips over the tip of her pointed ear and making her shiver. 

“A-Astarion…” She tilts her head, away from his distracting mouth to meet his darkened crimson eyes. “We don’t…have to do anything like that tonight, if you don’t want to. I actually want to check in on you, make sure you’re all right after this morning.” 

He stares at her. No matter how often she asks, he’ll never be over it, never not appreciate her concern for his own well-being. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips, before pulling away. “My sweet, you’re too good for this world. I’m…” He stops himself. He was going to just say that he’s fine, that there’s nothing to worry about…but he doesn’t want to be flippant with her. Not with her. 

So he really thinks about it. Reflects back on how this morning went, how it makes him feel. 

It had been…different, with her. There were still moments, of course, moments where flashes of unease, of something akin to disgust raced through him. And he would have to remind himself that he was with her, not a mark, not a victim. He was with her, and her pleasure mattered to him, and not in a predatory way. 

She matters to him. She matters to him. Oh, how quickly his kitten has wormed her way into his long-dead heart. No one was supposed to matter to him, other than himself, but his feelings for her were inescapable now. He smiles softly, almost ruefully. Leave it to the softest person he could ever imagine to get under his skin. 

“I’m…good,” he finally says. “Quite good, actually. I won’t lie, there were…moments where I was uncomfortable.” Her face drops, and she opens her mouth, no doubt to ask why he hadn’t expressed that at the time. He presses his fingers gently to her lips to silence her. “But I felt safe to continue. I knew that if I’d said something, you would have stopped immediately. And…darling, you’ve no idea what that means to me.” His hand cups gently around her cheek, his thumb stroking over her soft, freckled skin. He smiles, soft and gentle, and he hears her heartbeat speed up. 

Her eyes go over-bright, and her smile is just a little wobbly. “Good! Good, I…Gods, I’m so relieved!” 

“Were you worried about it all day?” he asks softly. 

“A little,” she admits, gently taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. “I…” She blushes faintly. “I’ve realized, between last night and this morning, that…sex with you is literally the best I’ve ever felt in my life. And I can absolutely see myself getting…quite addicted to your touch. But even if I’m, well, ready to go, if you don’t want it, I want you to tell me so. I don’t want you to just…force yourself.” She takes a deep breath and firms her gaze. “If it’s not good for you, it won’t be good for me.” 

He stares at her. His heart is filling, aching in his chest, and instead of words he buries his face into her neck and squeezes her tight against him. She smiles, understanding, and holds her lover just as tight, listening to the gentle wind in the trees and the distant sounds of the party. 

She knows that she doesn’t need to go back to the accolades tonight. The gentle kiss he presses to her pulse point is all the praise she needs.

[fridge-reviews]

Dread X Collection

Developer: DreadXP Publisher: DreadXP Rrp: £5.19 (Steam) £5.58 (Itch.io) £5.99 (Epic) Released: 26th May 2020 Available on: Itch.io, Steam and Epic

The Dread X Collection is a compilation of ten horror themed games that were created in seven days. The games were all created with the prompt of PT (the game PT as well the technical term, Playable Teaser). Many of the contributors to the collection are names you may recognise such as David Szymanski (the creator of Dusk). In later Dread X Collections (because it has now become a series) some of these games have become more developed and brought out as independent titles that you may recognise. It should be noted that there are a few things that should be kept in mind with these games; 1 - They're all very short experiences. 2 - Due to the speed they were created in they are going to be rough around the edges and even have a few glitches etc. 3 - Again, due to the speed of development they aren't going to be the prettiest games.

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The Pay is Nice

Developer: Odd Breeze

This was the first game I played in the collection and for me this game didn't really strike me like some of the others would do later. The thing is I can see the germ of a great game inside it, there was an air of mystery going on and it left me wanting answers. Sadly those are answers I doubt I'll ever get.

The game uses an old Resident Evil style, fixed camera angle which helps heighten the tension and sense of paranoia the game clearly wants to give the player. Sadly, as I said at the beginning of this review, the game didn't grab me and part of that was a because of the way it ended, it just felt very unsatisfying.

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Don't Go Out

Developer: Secret Cow Level

Yet again another game with a nugget of something great, a turn based game where you use resources in the form of cards to achieve the only goal that matters, surviving the night. You may succeed in doing this through clever positioning or perhaps you sacrifice a friend to give the rest of the party a chance. It doesn't matter how you do it as long as you survive to see another day.

You get as many actions in a turn as you have characters out, you start with only one but eventually the cards you get in your hand will reveal other characters to put out on to the field. Thankfully, playing a card doesn't cost an action so you can run and then play a card (or visa versa). At the end of each of your turns the enemies will take their turn and the countdown ticks on. You just need to have at least one party member alive by the time the countdown gets to zero.

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Hand of Doom

Developer: Torple Dook

This is one of those games that I mentioned that has (or will do) go on to be its own release. Based on what I played here I'll definitely be picking it up. This is an old school dungeon delver (such as the Wizardry series) where the [A] and [D] keys are used to slowly turn rather than strafe. One of the things that makes this game so interesting to me is the spell casting. You do this by using four buttons on the right side of the screen, each button representing a portion of an incantation.

This is yet another one of those games where I didn't ever feel actually scared by this game, but I can see that there is definite potential for it to be very scary, as it stands in this form though its more just creepy. Honestly the full release of this looks like it'll be a ton of fun. It's now officially on my wishlist.

Edit: In the time between of writing this review and posting it, I have now purchased the full game.

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Carthanc

Developer: Scythe Dev Team

Indiana Jones in space if it were a FPS without any weapons. That sentence pretty much covers this game for a descriptor. I'm going to be a bit charitable here and just say that this game was... frustrating. At no point did I find myself scared not even jump scared, what I mostly felt was annoyance mostly because of the enemies in this. They scream, constantly and its not scary it just causes my ears to hurt. It's also frustrating because there are several puzzles that require some fairly precise first person platforming, all the while this screaming thing is following relentlessly.

I truly hope they never make a full game of this, because I'd envitably end up picking it up and having to suffer through it all over again.

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Shatter

Developer: Lovely Hellplace

I loved this game! It's not the prettiest thing to look at but that adds to the charm and its clear the developers were intending on a Playstation one look to the game. A style that I think they achieved with flying colours. Its a nice mix of cyberpunk and horror, kinda reminded me of Silent Hill in some ways.

This game was haunting and the story had me wanting more... sadly I'm not sure that'll ever happen but I live in hope.

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Rotgut

Developer: Showrunner Productions

Quality was always going to be a questionable affair when it came to this collection, that was expected. But this game was POINTLESS. You just walk down an overly long tunnel hit a wall and then have to turn around and go back, that's it. Nothing happens.

I hated this, it was a waste of my time.

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Summer Night

Developer: Airdorf

At the start this game gives the advise that its best experienced in the dark and with headphones on and I totally agree. Sound is a huge part of this game. Sadly I can't tell you much about it because its quite a short one and only has room for a single twist and I'd hate to ruin that. What I will say is that there is more than meets the eye here.

Playing this game has convinced me that I need to play Airdorfs game Faith, I've been umming and arring about it for a while but now I'm convinced. As for this game, I love it, it terrified me!

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Mr Bucket Told Me To

Developer: Strange Scaffold This one is quite interesting because unlike the rest it has multiple endings, they aren't all that different from each other but still way more than I expected. The basic jist of this game is to stay alive four nights and you die if any meter reaches zero and you go to sleep.

Personally I didn't find this particularly scary, but I can see the core horror 'concept' that they were trying to achieve. Not bad honestly.

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Outsiders

Developer: Mahelyk

Timeloops games have become popular of late, but this one was made before it became the mechanic du jour. Though I'd argue this game is more cyclical than an actual timeloop. This is the game that is closest to being like PT, but even then that's only in the most surface level of ways.

This game really had me on edge many times and really had me getting a bit paranoid. I definitely will be checking out Mahelyk's other work.

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The Pony Factory

Developer: David Szymanski

The Pony Factory is a horror themed first person shooter by David Szymanski (the creator of the game Dusk). I must admit I love the B movie style of this game which captures the essence of horror while not actually being scary.

For the most part the game is in black and white which adds to the overall atmosphere. On the whole its a great little game, I kinda wish he'd do more with it but that's doubtful.

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[heathtalbot]

( EMILIO SAKRAYA, 21, CISGENDER MALE, HE/HIM ) Is that HEATH TALBOT? A SENIOR originally from SAN JOSE, CA, they decided to come to Ogden College to study COMMUNICATIONS. They're THE MALINGERER on campus, but even they could get blamed for Greer's disappearance.

THE BASICS:

FULL NAME: Heath James Talbot

NICKNAMES: None, he's just Heath

AGE & BIRTHDAY: 21 & March 24, 2002

ZODIAC: ☼ Aries ☾ Leo ↑ Pisces + full chart

MBTI & ALIGNMENT: ESFP & Neutral Evil

+ TRAITS: Intrepid, Optimistic, Honest, Sociable

- TRAITS: Temperamental, Obtuse, Unreliable, Domineering

HOUSING: TBA

MAJOR: Communications

EXTRACURRICULARS: Member of SAE, Golf, Powerlifting Team, Rock Climbing Team

CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS: TBA

THREE SKILLS: excellent at picking out apology gifts, can successfully parallel park anywhere, weirdly good at walking on his hands

LINKS: Pinterest / Playlist / Tasks

AT OGDEN:

RELATIONSHIP TO GREER: COLLEGE FRIENDS

Heath couldn't say exactly when or where he met Greer, all the finnicky details lost to the chaotic blur that had been rush week, but when he woke up with her contact info in his phone one morning, it definitely felt like it was meant to be. Both freshmen, both rich and pretty -- what more motivation did they need? C'mon, it would've been weirder if they weren't friends! Just like the rest of the Ogden masses, Heath was dragged into Greer Morrison's gravitational pull, and he went willingly. They started linking up on the regular, meeting up at parties or catching each other on down days around campus, building a strong friendship that he's never once thought to second-guess.

EMBODIMENT OF HIS TROPE: THE MALINGERER

Everyone has known a Heath. The no-show with a great excuse. The guy that never fails to charm his way into the group project with the smartest student. A person who's probably never seriously been told 'no' even once in their life. And it's not luck, either; it's privilege. Heath can rest on his laurels all thanks to the Talbot family name and the achievements of those around him. The third son, he's never felt the pressure of expectation. His mother babies him while simple participation trophies earn him congratulations from his father, allowing him every easy win that he chooses to take. And if he ever faces a roadblock? Heath's positive that there's a way around it. A check to write, a phone call to make, red tape to ignore. Everyone else has always pulled the strings for him, anyway, so why should he start worrying now? Life's a breeze when you don't have to seriously think about anything!

BACKGROUND & DETAILS:

heath was an unexpected baby, the product of a long-term (and still on-going) affair of his mother's. his parents privately maintain a pseudo-open relationship while publicly playing house for the sake of each of their careers. needless to say, family dinners have a tendency to get Weird

his dad is a venture capitalist, very much in the same vein as gavin belson of silicon valley -- he's long since lost touch with his coder roots and mostly just throws his money around to keep his name relevant in tech circles.

heath interns frequently at the companies his dad owns, true nepo baby shit 🥰 but lbr all he does is go on coffee runs and clocks in for 4 hour work weeks

he's currently majoring in communications bc he legit googled "easiest college majors" and it was near the top of the list

started out trying to major in engineering??? who let him do that?? freshman year was rough 😔

anyway yeah, heath's..... not that smart. and to make matters worse, he's sensitive about it!! gets mean when he's confused or frustrated, esp when he feels like he's being teased and not in on the joke. he's got a short fuse after a lifetime of his older brothers picking on him. he'd rather be perceived as rude than dumb

big time gym bro (obviously) and v competitive -- tends to favor solo sports bc at least when he loses it's no one's fault but his own

has a terrible habit of making big promises and not keeping them

he was soooooooo obsessed w/ uncut gems when it came out, i just FEEL it

julia fox = dream woman

brings a certain "haha.. okay" energy to the function

both of his older brothers previously attended ogden (5+ years ago, i'm still iffy on exact ages) and pledged SAE. naturally, heath had to do the same <3

ngl he's very easily swayed by public opinion. critical thinking?? we don't know her!

lowkey has a childhood dream to one day climb mount everest. pls don't try to explain to him how it negatively impacts the environment, he doesn't wanna hear it and won't understand (or care rip)

probably pre-games while listening to drake lmfao

POTENTIAL CONNECTIONS:

FRIENDS FRIENDS FRIENDS !!!!!!!!

people who have been saddled with him for group projects, study groups, etc.

heath doesn't do drugs (he's a keg stand champ tho), so someone to smoke him out for the first time! fs would be a hilar thread

with ogden being full of bad daddies, i'd love for him to have this energy with someone xx

..... also this

anyone he fucked around with over the summer!! i'd luv to hc some juicy goss for him from the break

someone who always calls him keith lmfaooo

maaaaaaaybe his baby sister?? she'd be going into her sophomore year and i have many family hc's to discuss, so <3

an ex who made him paranoid abt astrology stuff sjdjsdkn

someone that he's using and/or leading on

flip the script - someone who's using and/or leading him on!

literally anything else ur heart desires 💖 this will be heath's fourth year at ogden, so we have plenty of wiggle room to plot some crash-and-burn relationships, seething rivalries, situationships, etc. -- i'm down for it all!!

[duskholland]

No Control || Frat!Tom Smut

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

✧ *:･ﾟNo Control･ﾟ:*✧

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

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

He instantly knows that he wants you.

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

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

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

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

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

“At what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harrison rolls his eyes. “Go on.”

“See ya, mate.”

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

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

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

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

Tom likes how your voice sounds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirk. “Business major,” you supply.

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

“I know. We’re in the same class.”

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

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

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

“I don’t know. Will you?”

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

“Have fun,” you say, stepping back.

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

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

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

“Eh… a couple weeks,” Harrison supplies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You walk in.

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

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

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

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

Right?

“I don’t need to—”

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

Harrison grimaces. “Are you sure?”

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

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

“Yep. Go for it.”

“Thanks, bro.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So why can’t he stop thinking about you?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom thinks he could get you to moan louder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“Well?”

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harrison is not my boyfriend,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See ya!” he calls back.

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tom, I couldn’t—”

“Yeah, you can.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell her what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if it rains?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Hazzy.”

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

Tom blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Aww.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight kiss,” Tom begs. “Please?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As if.”

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

“And how’s your hangover?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Care for a nut?”

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

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

“Dirty girl,” he mutters, grinning wickedly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what is this proper charm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait— I can walk back home.”

“Nah. It’s fine.”

“It’s out of the way, though.”

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

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

“No problem, love.”

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

“Small talk?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah. Crazy. Did you have fun?”

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

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

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

“Eh?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

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

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

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

“Woah,” you mutter. “Sorry.”

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

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

“Aren’t we friends?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom nods. “Yeah. I’m great.”

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

“Tom. What are you doing with him?”

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

“Nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you respond, slightly breathless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

“You know,” you hiss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You quirk a brow. “No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tom’s brows raise. “Did you..?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I taste your pussy, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ride you?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

“Y’wanna flip?”

“Yeah. Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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

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

thank you for reading!! <3<3

[fferal-archive]

@fiddlingonthetympanic sent an ask (in September) (I am very grateful) (I wish I had the ingenuity and energy to match this):

Eventually, Krakoa spat out seasonally temperate zones; the island grew as the mainland shrank beneath the rising tide of seawater. 

They’re too tired to party all night–Krakoa’s seasonally temperate zones developing really sucks the energy out of everyone–no matter how wonderfully batshit the Thoroughfare of Masks was throughout the month, or how much of a distraction Bob-Cat needs with all his kids grubbing for candy with their other parents. The last straggling trick-or-treaters were skulking their way through the trees, many of them darting out to snatch bits of candy from colorful platters before older members of the Wild Hunt could leap out and catch them with a swipe of the claws. (That was all part of the game.) 

Woolf’s fending off Bob-Cat and Daken in the gnarled ‘doorway’ of the pod, but in that annoyed, half-hearted manner that really means ‘you’re both still getting laid.’ 

“Go–off, you two idiots!” She writhes between them, batting Bob’s clawed fingers away from the white fabric of her dress with a huff of exasperation and a gentle shove to Daken’s side. (The latter is sniffing at her. Right time of the month.) Another authoritative push sends Bob-Cat into the pod after him. “Start without me. Put the tape on or something.”

“Thanks for pulling me out of my dad-funk, you guys.” He pauses, reconsidering his  language before giving an apologetic grunt, slinging one hairy arm around Daken’s neck as the other gnaws at him like a chew toy. “‘You two’.” He gives a little sigh, a chuckle, and a laissez-faire shrug, allowing himself to be pulled deeper into the pod. “My bad. We’re never too old to check ourselves, are we?”

“Hey. Bob-cat. Blow me.” Daken’s voice faded into the background, as did the telltale swish of the Krakoan biomattress beneath their weight. 

Woolf lingers  in the doorway, breathing deep the crisp, sugary air and smoke. Ghoulish candlelight flickers from behind the carved faces of fruits, vegetables, and G-d knew what else. The laughter of children rises and falls within the shadow of the trees. ‘A good night,' she decides, reaching to brush her fingers over the warped turnip jack-o’-lanterns she’d hung outside earlier.

When she glances down, the child is there at her feet, smelling of overripe pumpkin and moldering leaves. Her eyes widen beneath the white, wide brim of her hat, a seasonally appropriate breeze rustles the hem of her dress.

Kid’s carrying a giant orange sucker, and it’ll be a miracle if they don’t choke on it before the night’s done.

Her brows draw together in an apologetic frown. “I don’t know if I have any candy left, honeybee.” 

Black button eyes gaze up at her from a burlap sack–face. They’re so–expectant that she tips back the brim of her hat and sighs. ‘How things are done,’ she realizes, then sighs. ‘Gifts for the children.’ 

“Let me get something from inside. D’you like spicy n–” A pumpkin sails past them, exploding against the trunk of a nearby tree with a wet, hollow thunk; Woolf makes a garbled sound of shock and frustration as one Raw Dog–newly reborn as a teenager, as all mutants are eventually-stops his shenanigans,  raising one hand in a not-so-apologetic wave.

“Sorry, ma’am!” A pause stretches between the three as Dog Howlett shifts. “You smell–uh– look nice tonight?”

Fire Knives raised him to be polite to women at least. She glowers at him, then darts back into the pod, briefly hissing at the men inside to ‘keep it down, there’s a kid!’ before returning with a little bag of spiced nuts from a leftover party bag, dropping it into Sack-Child’s treat basket. “Here,” she murmurs, reaching out as if to pat them on their burlap head before pulling her hand back. “Sorry. You caught me a bit late.” 

The child scurries away without a word, and she feels a weight leave her shoulders as she foils her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes at the teenager vandalizing his way past.“You should have some respect for tradition, Dog,” she calls disapprovingly “The roots of this sort of thing run deep!”

Then, she leaves him to mull the importance of the old ways in favor of watching an old mummy-themed porno while eating Hunt-jerky off of washboard abs. 

“When I told you to get started, you really ran with it…”her voice fades away, and “Raw Dog” Howlett and the strange, solemn trick-or-treater are left relatively alone, one with an oversized sucker and candy bucket, the other with his general douchebaggery and disrespect for the holiday season.

A bare foot punts a jack-o’-melon like a soccer ball.“Go to bed, yo,” is all Raw Dog–whose birth name is Wild Dog–tells him, sniffing loudly and rubbing a hand over his runny nose as the sad remains of fruit rind and candle wax drips down the side of a stone ledge.“The grown-ups have things to do.”

Black button eyes glint.

___

Woolf wakes up in a pile of man-flesh in the middle of the night, her nostrils flaring at the scent of drying blood. She grunts, spitting out a mouthful of Bob’s hair even as she runs a hand along a sleek, bare thigh. (Daken’s, judging by the thick pelt of manfur.)  Blood. Too close. 

Don’t like that.

“S’mone g’see what that is,” she mumbles, less concerned about the vaguely familiar smell than its proximity to her ‘autumn-summer home.’ “Bob. Up.” At his rrroooorrwl of protest, she nudges the thigh-haver. “You. Fang. Up. No kids vandalizing my porch tonight.” 

Daken eventually does drag himself outside, muttering and bitching about family. The blood smells of Raw Dogging, you see.

So does the severed head hanging strung alongside  the turnip jack-o’-lanterns, its eyes glassy and staring, lips split wide by the bright orange sucker jammed into its mouth.

“Tell your nephew to clean up his mess!”

[sofijaeger]

Sway

eren yeager x reader

word count: 3.3k

i wrote this about a year ago, i apologize for it being awkward lol

this isn’t the one I was planning on doing in my recent post, but I simply pasted this from my wattpad account and I think it’s kinda cool! This will mainly be set in 2nd person P.O.V. but your thoughts will be included as well.

Eren’s kinda OC... but who cares:)

Warnings:

• just a lil spicy👀 *Eren’s fault not mine*

• mentions/spoilers of season 3 part 2

Members of every Regiment appeared for what was planned as one special, social occasion, honoring the Scouting Regiment for their success in reclaiming Wall Maria, one of humanities' biggest comebacks. The take-back had caused so much pressure on the people, Historia, who had recently been enthroned as Queen a few months prior, had obliged an event to settle the scouts, and release any frustrations they had felt in the past.

Entering the large ballroom, each of your eyes gleamed in excitement at the sight before you. Captain even widened his eyes in amusement. Hundreds of formally looking pairs were painted across the spacious room. Many gathered in clumps around the perimeter of the ballroom, discussing each other's wear and significant ones, others casually seated at the tables, enjoying the fresh cuisine that had miraculously increased in supply thanks to the farmlands of Maria reopening.

Yet your eyes focused on one thing only. The dance floor, fully covered in couples flowing effortlessly in patterns like words written into poetry. As you began to step forward, lifting your dress in courtesy, a hand had gently tugged on your sleeveless arm. "Don't you think it's best we start the night off with conversation?" Armin gave you a gentle smile, despite his attempts to hold Connie and Sasha back from the royal buffet.

Inviting Captain Levi's Special operations squad as her guests of honor, discussions between your group and the rest of the Soldiers  from each wall had been intense. The 10 members including yourself felt too uncomfortable thinking about the subject again, specifically the losses you each endured.

As the late evening began to set, and the population of the room increasingly drunkened themselves, the cadets and yourself had had enough of the boring conversations. "That's it", Connie interrupted the group, "LET'S PARTY!!". He chugged a small shot glass of alcohol, receiving a few cheers from random guests and shocked faces from you and the rest of your squad, before pulling on your wrist, leading you to the dance floor. Excited to start dancing, a single thought held you back, and eventually another wrist.

You turned your head, viewing a surprisingly timid brunette holding your hand. "Eren?" you questioned. "Is something wrong?". He finally made contact with you, and seemingly blushed? Eren was never one to make such emotional faces but it seemed the view of something had changed his thoughts.

Or someone.

"Y-You..." he stuttered. By this time Mikasa had placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong Eren?" she comforted.

Still keeping his gaze upon you, he mustered the words "You promised me a dance, don't you remember?" Your eyes widened at the question you answered only a day ago~

☼ ☼ ☼

"[Nameee]" Eren called, a day earlier. Finishing up the last of your chores, you hadn't turned in time for him to hold you in his arms, lifting you up and spinning you in surprise. "Eren?!" you laughed. "Enough with the sweetness, I'm not finished yet!" Placing you down, he reached for another broom and assisted you in your cleanings.

After a few moments,  you broke the silence, yet Eren was much more into physical showings than verbal. "I'm excited for the party tomorrow" You smiled. Turning to look at him, he kept his focus on the task at hand, sighing in what seems like half content, half dissatisfaction. "Oh, don't be so mopey Eren. Especially not around me!" He leveled to your eyes, a saddened look still present on his face.

"Er, what's wrong?"

"Taking a break doesn't sound very soldier-like to me"

"Don't you think we deserve a break?" you questioned. No matter how hard you tried it seemed you could never understand him and his motives.

"We're supposed to be fighting. Staying on the front lines until everything has been settled. What's the point in taking a rest?"

"Well let's see...to maintain our sanity?" You both chuckled. After another quick moment of silence, Eren considered your thought. "I guess it won't be too bad" he laughed. "Just don't expect me to be the life of the party"

"Oh you most certainly will be" you answered. "You HAVE to dance at least once".

"What? No way!"

"Despite what you may think, you've got some of the best rhythm i've ever seen. I promise you one dance won't hurt" you told. Eren looked into your eyes, the same eyes you'd fallen for not so long ago. "Will it be with you?" He spoke in almost a whisper, unknowingly moving closer to you. Your breath jumped before you could answer with a grateful smile.

"I promise".

☼ ☼ ☼

"I had her first, Titan boy!" Connie shouted, taking your hand again. Jean seemed to stand in disbelief. "Hey, I want to dance with her too!" He argued. Mikasa quietly giggled, sneaking you a shot glass before you approached the floor. Captain Levi was careless over the boys behavior but was quite concerned for the ladies, making sure they were safe was one of his priorities, almost making him seem father-like. As Historia from the other side of the ballroom instructed the musicians to mature the theme of the night, you took a few final sips of the beverage, seeing a few shocked looks from your comrades. Before accepting Connies proposal and making your way to the floor.

Almost immediately as the two of you stepped out, the music began to play. You were glad you had such great friends to dance with, but there was one problem.

Connie surprisingly had no rhythm.

He seemed to be enjoying himself as the instruments strummed in complexity, but his steps rather than reaching the floor stepped onto your small feet. You couldn't last more than 8 seconds with him. Jean suddenly tapped your shoulder and you accepted his offer to dance. "You understand, don't you Connie?" You cheekily smiled before walking away with Jean.

When Marimba rhythms start to play, Dance with me...

"Make me sway" The two-tone haired boy sang to you, making you laugh as you attempted to assist him in his dance steps. Jean was a good dancer, it was well known between the scouts, but it seemed no one could match your skill or competitiveness. "Jesus, Jean you really are a horse!" you critiqued. Your laugh though soon became more of a worry. Where was Eren? In all honesty you just wanted to spend time with him. Where could he have gone to?

What you hadn't observed was the turquoise-eyed boy on the side of the ballroom, who was very skeptical of your time spent with the others. No matter how often he denied it, seeing you happy with Jean pissed him off.

"I'd step in if I were you." a smaller man suggested, stepping towards Eren and Armin, who was trying to comfort his friend in the process of being extremely possessive over a girl who wasn't even his.

"Really, Captain?" Eren responded. Levi nodded, adjusting his tuxedo before shoving him to stumble closer to you and the horse.

Jean's face showed an apologetic frown for his clumsy footwork, before he noticed something over your shoulder. Jean smirked, then used his shoe to tangle you into your tight dress. You gave him a look that meant none else than 'are you kidding', leaving you no choice but to twirl yourself out of your tangled attire.

Immediately as you settled yourself out of your entwined dress, the hands of your partner were reapplied to your form, less tense.

You look up, only to notice your partner grabbing your hand and swerving you in a circle, beginning your dance again. You couldn't turn your head quick enough to meet his face, and it was quite a sharp twirl, one you never thought would've come from Jean.

And that’s when you realized you weren’t dancing with Jean anymore.

The male then began challenging footwork, something you could easily tag along to since it was...

At a quick tempo?

Just who am I dancing with?!

Again, before you could turn your head to make eye contact with your partner, he spun you once more, so that your backside was facing his chest. One hand of his sliding over your stomach, the other gently tracing down your arm to grab your hand again. Your breath hitched, and your feet continued to move in a pattern so insync, it was quite hard to understand how you were keeping time with him.

This guy is better than me! 

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore, pull me close, sway me more.

Spinning you back around so you were held in a standard partner position, this boy held you so close your head was practically leaning on his shoulder. He didn't want you to see the reactions of the hundreds of people, now stepping off the floor to give their attention to you two. He wanted you to feel the moment with him, as if you were the only two in the world.

You were his world, that was for sure.

Like a flower bending in the breeze, bend with me, sway with ease...

The two of you continued to move in a circular motion across the center of the floor, stopping only for improvised footwork or him lifting you off the floor as you two spun.  From afar, you met Mikasa's eyes as she and a few other couples danced around you. She was with Jean, as he held her waist with a grin, but she didn't seem to happy about it. Chuckling at her facials, You were twirled again by your mysterious partner, his chocolate tussles brushing over your cheek.

When you dance you have a way with me, Stay with me,

The male hugged your form, pressing your entire body so close to his, slipping one finger into the cut of your dress so he was now tickling the bare skin of your lower back. The music timed perfect with this words:

"...sway with me"

Eren sang into your ear.

Your jaw dropped open, as the male longingly looked to your gorgeous complexion. Finally, you had the chance to meet Eren's eyes, but you didn't want to anymore. He had left you a beet-red mess.

God, you loved him.

Other dancers may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have that magic technique

When we sway I go weak.

It truly was an odd moment for everyone. The other scouts who had become your family had noticed your reaction in this very moment, as well as your emotions around him in the last few years. You were stubborn, but you'd always allow your temperamental, boss-like exterior to subside whenever you were with, him.

You had no choice than to wrap your arms around Eren's neck, to avoid any hints of your already blushing self. Dammit, what the hell is wrong with me?! you thought to yourself.

Eren chuckled in surprise, taking his far hand to support your upper back. "What?" he flirtatiously questioned, sending breathed heat to your neck where his mouth spoke. "You did say 'enough with the sweetness'". Eren used his index finger that had already been under the waistline of your dress to titillate your lower back once again. You whimpered in what you both knew was pleasure, and placed your head snug into the crook of his neck, your heavy breaths making his smug look even greater.

He took pride in how he was making you feel,

I can hear the sounds of violins, long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how, sway me smooth, sway me now

He slyly kissed the side of your upper half, from your warm cheek down to your collarbone over and over, continuing to sway as to not make a scene. You couldn't do anything but grit your teeth, for Eren had never pulled any sort of loving move to this extent. It was obvious he wanted to please you. And it was working, because you were furious.

No person could ever come close to making you feel this way, so why Eren? What about his sincerity and allurement made its way into you? Why did he make my heart race? It may have been his eyes, which caught you by surprise from the first day of Cadet training. You remembered thinking how you've never seen green eyes so bright, or how they could easily pass as turquoise from the blue and yellow flecks scattered in them. Maybe it was his confidence? An emotion he let out so effortlessly, even when he felt hopeless. It made you feel warm, like a true savior was guiding you.

As you pondered stressfully between your thoughts, so much frustration had caused you to gather a small tear in your eyes, and if you hadn't blinked, it wouldn't have trickled onto Eren, butterfly kissing his now damp neck.

Eren widened his eyes at your reaction, and immediately supported your head in his hand. "[Name?]" he worriedly whispered, burying his nose into your hair to shield your emotions from any eyeing guests. A minute passed with no response, he desperately tried to get an answer from you.

"Are you?... I didn't mean for you to-"

"It's not that" you whispered back.

"It had to have been something I did-".

"Yes-" was all you could muster before Eren spun the two of you in between couples, exiting the hall in an elegant fashion. He let go of your form, only holding on by your hand as he led you out to one of the many balconies the castle held, away from all the people.

Coming to a stop by the balustrade, Eren quickly turned around to see your almost dizzied form. Head down and sniffing back tears you most certainly didn't want to release in front of him. He took one step, wrapped his arms around you, less provocative than before, and held you for quite a while in silence. That is until he gained the courage to speak.

"I'm sorry, I really am." he cooed. "I never intended to make you feel uncomfortable. Please, know it was just a joke if I hurt your feelings in any way..." He placed a hand back over your head, softly rubbing it as you stood in his embrace. You wanted to cry right then and there. Cry out all the emotions youd held in these past years. He confused you so much you didn't know how to think or act around him. If that wasn't enough for you to begin crying again, the kiss he gave onto your forehead did the trick.

"I don't understand. " you whispered.

"What?"

"I don't understand you!" you shouted. Eren's face paled as you shoved out of his embrace, crossing your chilled arms. Wary of being too loud, you stuttered your next words.

"How come... you always know what to say. Is that another perfect quality of yours?".

Shit

Holding back your feelings wasn't an option anymore.

You had to let him know.

You wanted to let him know.

"No matter how hard I try I can never understand you! One minute your completely focused on what you have in mind, and the next your smiling without a worry in the world. I don't get it! You never give up on me, or never fail to make me beam, even in the darkest of times. How can you do that to me?! How can you make me nervous and excited at the same time? What is it about you that makes me want to fall harder for you?!"

Eren stood at you bug-eyed. How in the world was he supposed to respond to something so heartfelt? Words he conveyed so mutually? Luckily, you gave him more time as you continued to confess in your confusing way.

"Maybe... it's that your so loving towards your goals" you calmed down,"Yea...That's it." confirming with yourself out loud."Goals I find so astonishing, though I can barely understand how you approach them. It makes me want to stand by you, all the time, defeating all the challenges you face”.

You grabbed each of his clammy hands that hung beside his limpish figure.

“I want you to achieve the greatest happiness imaginable Eren." You looked up at him, and there was that blush you'd seen on him from before. Darker this time, even in the illuminated sky.

"It's a distinct feeling, I think of admiration? No, more than that. One I can't help, so rather than trying to fight it, I can't do anything but surrender to it. I sound absolutely crazy but I can't help it because-"

“I’m in love with you” Eren finished your sentence.

"Yes, that's exactly how I feel Eren! Wait, come again?"

By the time you could process his words, Eren had pulled you into a deep first kiss. His lips were warmer than you expected. The boy had wanted to hold you like this for as long as he could remember, his own hands couldn't bring you closer to him. He slid his hand through your hair, the other around your waist, finding its way back to that sweet spot underneath your waistline hem.

You quiet moan from his action was enough permission to passionate the bond between you two, as you grabbed him around the neck.

Eren was so immensely happy. He'd had never felt this kind of love.

A love he felt so rawly, he was completely lost in his dreams when he was with you.

You couldn't contain your breath much longer, forcing yourself to break away in a gasp, yet your noses still connected, Eren blindly searching for your lips again.

"[Name]" he whispered , touching his forehead with yours.

"I didn't know how to explain it, how you complete me when I thought no one could, but you do understand me, that's why I-" He stared into your tired eyes, gesturing his confession. "I-I can't contain myself around you. As soon as I see you each morning, I feel every urge in my body to tell you every detail about me, knowing you'll listen and genuinely care. I want... to kiss you every single time I look at you." His breath carried him into a few peppered kisses to your lips.

"Never in a thousand years could this event, or any person i've met be the source of my sanity. It's you, [Name], it always has been".

Your mind couldn't process what exactly had just happened, so you continued to stare down at his shoes, Your foreheads still connected as Eren once again attempted to get a response out of you.

"Was that too much?" Eren asked. His hand had made its way to hold yours, his other against your dry, tear-stained cheek, stroking it with upmost sympathy. "What I did back in the ballroom?"

You smirked, meeting his eyes with pure confidence and shook your head 'no'.

"I never said I didn't like it, Eren".

Eren smiled, wiping your damp under-eyes with his finger as he lead you back into the ballroom. There, you'd met the rest of your squad who was seated at your reserved table.

"Oi, that was some dance you two did" Connie raised his eyebrows up and down in amusement. "I got... lost in the moment." Eren nervously claimed. Connie seemed to notice the two of you still holding hands just as Jean had. "Someone confessed" Jean confirmed, but you could only smile.

"That's enough with the chatting. Get the last of your fun in now, because you won't have another chance like this for a while." Captain Levi broke in. The 10 of you ran back out to the dance floor, enjoying every bit of yourselves into the late night.

In all of your losses, all your tragedies, you'd found true happiness. And it seemed Eren had as well, turning to you with an even greater smile than he had ever made before.

[gumnut-logic]

Two Birds with One Stone (Bit 6 and The End)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5 | Bit 6

I finished it! Yay! Still @godsliltippy​ ‘s fault. I’m just happy to have this one off my plate because yesterday I wrote 2000 words of a new fic! I’m incurable, I have to say ::headdesk:: Like I have so many waiting to be finished ::wails::

But lookie! I finished one ::distracts all with this single finished fic waving it around with glee::

Many thank to @tsarinatorment​ @scribbles97​ and @janetm74​ for all their support through this fic and of course to Tippy for sparking it in the first place with this glorious piece of art!

I can actually archive something cos it is finished! Yay!

I hope you enjoy it...cos it is finished! It’s a miracle!

-o-o-o-

“A combine harvester?!”

“Totally cool sounding, don’t you think? I’m adding it to my list.”

Virgil stared at his brother. “You have a list? Of what?”

“Dramatic stuff. Near misses. Things worth bragging about at the bar.”

Virgil blinked, fortunately with both eyes this time, since the swelling was starting to go down.

He was sitting up in bed, surrounded by flowers. Grandma had gone all out this time with two boys in the hospital. Fortunately, they wouldn’t be in much longer.

Alan had dragged in one of Virgil’s sketchbooks and to Virgil’s surprise, he had found the energy to draw for a little while, though his head wouldn’t take much.

And his head was more than one problem.

He was missing half his hair.

And he looked stupid.

Worse, there was a jagged slice in his scalp where apparently a piece of that combine harvester had made it through his helmet and nearly sliced him in half.

The thought was downright alarming and he shunted it to the back of his mind with not a little terror.

He would examine it later.

Later.

But the problem at the moment, apart from the bandages that conveniently hid the issue temporarily, he only had half a head of hair and it looked stupid.

He had to appreciate that Gordon hadn’t laughed. In fact, none of his brothers had laughed at him. He couldn’t fault them for that.

Though there was a sparkle in Gordon’s eye that foretold at least one comment in the future, even if it was fond and caring.

Besides…

He kept waking up to find Gordon sitting on the end of his bed.

It was done with nonchalance and a smile, but Virgil was beginning to suspect an underlying cause. Not that he couldn’t acknowledge that he was happy to see his little brother and sharing a room with him in hospital was actually a boon to the medical process, but honestly, Virgil was beginning to worry.

“Don’t you have a list?”

Of course, a fish without a pond tended to be a bored fish.

“No, not really.”

“You don’t count successful rescues?”

“John and Scott keep records. I don’t like to dwell.”

His little brother shrugged. “I get that.”

There was silence for a while and Virgil let himself settle back into his pillow. Dosing was a rare pleasure.

“So, you don’t take advantage of being a hero even a tiny bit?”

Virgil blinked and frowned. “What?”

Gordon rolled over holding his injured arm and settled so he could see Virgil clearly. “You know, leverage a little heroism to start a conversation? Get one up on the stiffs at parties?”

He stared at his brother. “Are you having trouble at Penny’s charity functions?”

“Nooo.”

Okay, that meant yes. “You should talk to her, Gords.” He shrugged. “Need a wingman? I could come with.” Though he had to admit, he could see where Gordon was coming from. Some of those attendees were definitely stiffs who had never lifted a finger to help anyone but themselves in their entire lives.

“I can handle it.”

Okay, Virgil was definitely filching an invite to the next one. Could even drag in Scott. Big bro would torch the social scene. He wasn’t a fan, but he could play...to every other man’s detriment.

Or Virgil could ask John. Having a genius brother in orbit who had a daughter who had been told off several times already for influencing the stock market was an advantage.

“Virgil, stop the plotting. It is fine. I’ve got this. I just flex a little muscle, mention a few scars and spin a few tales. Joe WallStreet, or whatever they call it in London, doesn’t stand a chance.”

He eyed his brother. The urge to step in was strong.

Gordon smirked. “It is fine. Besides, you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon with that hairstyle.”

It was an obvious subject change, but it still earned Gordon a blistering glare. “Shut up.”

A snort and Gordon capitulated. “Don’t worry, bro, it’s cool. Shave the other side, get yourself some tatts and no one will ever question you on a rescue ever again.” The second snort was almost a giggle.

If only he could reach Gordon, clap him up the head.

There must have been something in his expression because Gordon burst out laughing, rolling on the bed, holding his arm to his side.

“You’re an ass.”

“And you, my dear artist bro, are entertaining.”

“Shove it.”

But at least Gordon was smiling.

Virgil would take that any day.

-o-o-o-

Gordon was up and about long before Virgil and took to disappearing from time to time into the depths of the hospital, often with one brother or the other and on several occasions, with Penelope.

Virgil didn’t get out much. He still had headaches and occasional dizzy spells, a lead on from a massive concussion and was the reason why they were still in hospital. Virgil had no doubt Gordon could probably have gone home, but was hanging about just because Virgil couldn’t.

If it pinned Gordon under medical observation and not in the ocean after such a serious injury, Virgil wasn’t going to argue. But it was frustrating that he himself wasn’t very mobile and he was sick of staring at the ceiling tiles.

They always bugged him as his artistic brain always constructed designs out of them and they always lacked symmetry.

Grandma, Alan, John, Scott and even Kayo were regular visitors. The Tracy clan had parked themselves in a nearby hotel, no doubt fueling both news agencies and the local economy.

Virgil just wanted to go home.

And Scott was out of sorts.

Scott was always out of sorts when a member of the family was injured, but this was different. And it was bugging Virgil.

Between his own injuries and the inability to pin his brother down due to interruptions and the lack of alone time, whatever it was that was bugging Scott was festering.

Topeka hospital was a familiar place to all of them. It had been their local major hospital for much of their formative years and considering the tornado seasons and IR responses, a regular delivery point for rescuees. There was a rooftop garden that had been sat in on several occasions in the past and it was with some conniving that Virgil spoke to Kayo to arrange for a corner of it to be secured so Virgil could go and sit up there for a bit of fresh air and privacy with his big brother.

He had no doubt that Scott knew he was being railroaded, but the lack of protest just emphasised how troubled his big brother was.

The sounds of the city below were no longer familiar and Virgil found himself longing for the ocean and the quiet of Tracy Island. It was evening, the sun having just set and the sky was a welcome sight after being confined to ceiling tiles for a few days, but the stars were dim, hidden by light pollution and a touch of smog.

It made him even more homesick.

“You okay, Virg?”

Scott had pushed him up here in a hoverchair. Virgil still needed it due to the dizzy spells and it ticked him off to no end. “Just homesick.”

Hi brother sighed. “Won’t be long. A couple of days and I’ll take you down to the beach and you can lay on the sand and stare at the stars to your heart’s content.”

Virgil shot him a glare. “I’m not John.”

“But you miss the stars anyway.”

Virgil grumbled. “I’m just used to seeing them.” He waved at hand at the sky. “It’s not the same.”

“Uh huh.” Scott was smiling in that condescending big brother knows better way he was so good at.

“Shut up.”

Scott didn’t stop grinning, he just dragged the ‘chair backwards until it nestled beside a park bench and then sat himself down beside Virgil.

They sat in silence for a while and Virgil let the soundscape seep into him. It was quieter up here than inside the hospital. There was a breeze with the scent of farmland under that pervasive smell of the city and cooling concrete. The breeze spoke of a possible storm in the distance. Virgil hoped it wasn’t a supercell. He had had enough of tornadoes for some time.

He missed the scent of the sea.

A sigh. He was being pathetic and falling into the doldrums over nothing. He was getting better. He would be home soon.

And screw it, he would plant his butt on a beach and drag Scott with him just to piss him off.

“You okay?”

Huh? Scott was peering at him, that worry ever persistent in the darkness of his eyes.

“It is you who I’m worried about.” So, it was defensive, big deal. Needed to start the conversation somehow.

“Me? I’m not the one who took on a combine harvester and nearly lost.”

“It wasn’t exactly a choice, you know.”

“I know.” It was quiet and Virgil knew he had hit the nail on the head.

“Talk to me, Scott.”

“About what?”

Virgil flat-eyed glared at him. “About whatever has been bugging you the last few days.”

“I would have thought that was obvious with two brothers in the hospital.” Definitely defensive.

“No. This is more.”

“What? There are degrees? I don’t need analysis, Virg.”

Virgil pressed his lips together. “You’re hurting. You’re not talking. What other recourse do I have?”

“Do you need one?”

“Of course, I do! You’re you! Whatever this is, it’s weighing on you and I hate to see you in pain.”

“I’m not in pain. It’s you who was injured.”

“If you’re trying to tell me that doesn’t affect you, you’re either lying through your teeth or I should be even more worried because you’ve obviously suffered brain damage of some kind and are no longer the Scott Tracy I know. Perhaps I should check you for a holographic disguise.”

Scott let out an annoyed scoff and shot to his feet, his actions agitated. “Virg, it’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Goddamnit, Virgil-“

“Talk to me!” And yelling apparently hurt his head, because it throbbed in protest. He grit his teeth and glared up at his brother. Please, Scott, for both our sakes.

“It was close, okay? Too damned close.”

Virgil swallowed. He knew that. “Not the first time.”

“So, I should be used to it by now?” Despite the darkness, Scott was lit up with internal fire.

“No.”

But he had finally triggered the avalanche and Scott spilled it all over him.

“Do you have any idea how close this was? Millimetres and you wouldn’t be here anymore, Virg.”

“Again, not the first time.”

“But it was so senseless!” Scott’s hands shot out palm up, desperate for understanding. “You weren’t even in the middle of a rescue. The sky just opened up, stabbed down a twister and threw a chunk of farm machinery at you. It lasted mere seconds and it nearly took both of you. Why? If you had landed a few metres further away, if you had been a few seconds later in arrival, hell, the margin for error was astronomical, yet, it still happened. I nearly lost you and Gordy for no damned reason whatsoever!”

“You need a reason?”

“Goddamned, I do! If I’m going to lose a brother, at least it should be for a reason. A sacrifice made for the good of all.”

“You know it doesn’t work that way.” Virgil’s heart was thudding in his chest.

“Well, it should. We do so much, sacrifice so much already, I don’t think it is too much to ask. We’ve already lost...” Scott shoved his face into his hands and parked himself back on the park bench. “Why the hell do you ask me these things?”

Ever so quiet. “Because they need to be asked.”

“I hate it.”

“I know.”

“I nearly lost you for nothing.”

“We were there for a reason. We both went in knowing the danger, you know that.”

“Doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“I’d be worried if it did.” Virgil sighed. “We survived, Scott. Thanks to you. You were fast enough.”

The grunt and groan that made it out between his brother’s fingers was pain itself.

The hoverchair made it awkward, but Virgil reached out and snagged his big brother with an arm and hauled him in the best he could. Scott, of course, protested, but Virgil’s arms were not injured and he was always smug that he had at least one thing racked up on the achievement scale that beat his almighty big brother and that was strength.

So, Scott was dragged into a hug whether he wanted it or not.

“Still here.”

Scott grumbled something unintelligible.

“Gords is adding it to his story list to tell at Penny’s parties.”

“He’s what?”

Distraction achieved.

“Wanna drop by Penny’s next charity dinner and play wingman to Gords? You get to take a few stiffs down a peg or million. Apparently, a few asses need a big brother kicking. We can break out Johnny and Eos for extra fun, if you like.”

“Who’s been messing with Gordon?” There it was. Exactly the trigger point needed.

“The Joe Wallstreets seem to think they are better than a fish Tracy.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. Want to help me educate them? Though admittedly Gords was doing quite well on his own, higher education is always a good thing.”

Scott was staring at him in the darkness. It was obvious his brother knew exactly what Virgil was doing.

“I’ll be there.”

“Great. It will be good PR for whatever charity Penny is supporting. With a bit of luck we can play it to her advantage as well.”

Scott was still staring at him.

“What?”

Ever so quiet. “What would I do without you?”

Virgil swallowed, desperately ignoring all the implications and the reverse of that question. “Here’s hoping we never find out.”

Scott sighed and let his head drop onto Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil just tugged him a little tighter and returned to trying to see the stars.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[itsadamcole]

last christmas

fem!reader x finn balor

reader and Finn have been broken up for almost a year. they haven't seen or spoken to each other since Finn ended the relationship. it's now Christmastime, and they come face-to-face at the NXT Christmas party for the first time since the breakup ... "i loved you. i loved you so much that it hurt me"

word count: 2.5k+

warnings: angsty, mentions & actions involving cheating, drinking, implied sex, kinda nsfw

— day 7 out of 25. let’s gooo —

masterlist || request an imagine here

part 2

~ some 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You stand outside of BelaRosa Banquet Hall and stare up at the building. You know what's waiting for you inside.

While you've managed to avoid him at Full Sail, it won't be as easy to avoid him here. At least at Full Sail, you can hide in your dressing room. At BelaRosa Banquet Hall, there's nowhere to hide. Except maybe the bathroom. He's too much of a gentleman to walk into a women's restroom.

"Hey, girlie," you hear Candice LeRae say behind you. You glance back to see her walking up to the door with Johnny Gargano by her side. "Why are you still out here? You should be inside."

You say, "I'm trying to talk myself into going in. It's taking me longer than I thought."

Candice hooks her arm with yours and she says, "You know he doesn't like coming to these events. He probably won't even be here."

Anxiety hits you like a train as you say, "He's NXT Champion, Candice. There's no way that he's not here."

"That's a good point," she says. "I used to wrestle men so I won't be afraid to hit him or hurricanrana him so please come inside and sit with me and Johnny."

That gets a light laugh out of you. You give in and say, "Fine. You better hold your promise to hurrincanrana him if he comes near me."

Candice laughs and the three of you walk inside. "I promise," she says.

The banquet hall is huge and already full of NXT wrestlers and staff members. William Regal is even here. So is Triple H, Stephanie McMahon, and Shawn Michaels. If they're here then he definitely is.

You join Candice at a table with Tegan Nox, Dakota Kai, Raquel Gonzalez, Tommaso Ciampa, Tyler Breeze, and Fandango.

"Hey, Y/N!" Tegan says, patting the seat beside her. "Sit here. I didn't think we'd be seeing you."

Laughing, you say, "I decided to show up and not let a breakup dictate my life anymore."

Candice says, "She was standing outside the building for who knows how long when I showed up. Who knows if she would have walked in if it wasn't for me."

Everyone at the table kind of laughs.

The banquet hall is full of Christmas and holiday themed decorations. Garland hands all over the place with a large Christmas tree in one of the corners of the room. Wreaths are scattered throughout the room. The tables all have little Santa or snowman figurines as decoration.

"I love that dress, Y/N," Dakota compliments. "Very pretty."

The decision to come to this party was so last minute that you had to grab a dress from your closet instead of buying something new like most people did. The dress you're wearing is a short satin silver dress with spaghetti straps that crisscross each other on your back. The neck dips a little low, revealing a small amount of cleavage. You wear matching silver heels. Your Y/H/C colored hair is up in a messy bun on top of your head.

"Thank you, Kota," you say, smiling kindly at her.

The party goes well until dinner is served in buffet form. You're making your way down the line when someone says, "It's nice to see ya, Y/N. It's been a while."

You'd know that accent anywhere. That Irish accent that made you weak in the knees every time you heard it. Your suspicions are confirmed when you look to your left to see Finn Balor grabbing some mashed potatoes.

"Wish I could say the same," is all you say before grabbing a roll and some butter before walking off.

You sigh as you sit down, angry and frustrated that he even had the nerve to come up to you and say that it's nice to see you. You eat angrily.

Candice notices you and asks, "What's going on? You seem angry."

"I'm not," you snap. "Angry. I'm not angry."

Johnny chimes in and says, "Your vegetables say differently. Did he say something to you? I saw him standing next to you."

You look up at Johnny and say, "He said it was nice to see me, as if he didn't cheat on me several times then play victim every time I would find out."

Candice looks at you, upset that he even talked to you.

Tegan gives you a hug and says, "We won't let him talk to you again, Y/N. That was the first and last time he will talk to you tonight."

Dinner and dessert go by pretty much quickly and easily. Finn doesn't approach you while you eat.

After dinner and dessert, Candice and Johnny go off to dance. Raquel and Dakota go talk to Io Shirai and Rhea Ripley. Tyler and Dango go talk to Adam Cole and the Undisputed Era. Tommaso goes and mingles. That leaves you and Tegan at the table.

Tegan is in the middle of telling you a story about her dog as the two of you sip off your alcoholic drink when Finn approaches you again.

"I'd really like to talk with ya for a second, Y/N," he says. "Please."

You sigh and ask, "What part of 'I never want to talk to you again' didn't you understand?"

Tegan jumps in and says, "Take a hint, Finn. She doesn't want to talk."

Finn looks at you and says, "Just for a few minutes. Then ya can go back to hating my guts."

You turn and look up at Finn, meeting his eyes. "When I said to never talk to me again, I meant it, Finn," you say, growing more and more frustrated.

"It's just a two-minute long conversation, Y/N," he says. "Come on."

Tegan looks at you and you look at her. She says, "Get it out of the way that way you can enjoy the rest of your night."

Sighing, you look back up at Finn and say, "Fine. You have only two minutes."

He looks at Tegan before saying, "Alone. I want to talk to ya alone."

Rolling your eyes, you get out of your seat. Finn walks off to a more private and quieter part of the banquet hall.

"What do you want, Finn?" you ask. "Here to tell me how much you want me back and wish you never cheated?"

He says, "I'm getting married." You're surprised by these three words. "I wanted to make peace with the people I've hurt the most before I got married. Starting with ya."

You look up at Finn and say, "I'm not forgiving you any time soon, Finn. You hurt me so many times."

Finn says, "I don't expect ya to forgive me, Y/N. I'm just trying to make peace with ya so ya stop being smart when I talk to ya at work. I understand that I hurt ya and are mad at me-"

You cut him off and say, "You don't understand. If you understood then you wouldn't have cheated on me multiple times. I'm not just mad, I'm furious. I feel like the past six years were a waste of my time because of you. I loved you. I loved you so much that it hurt me. I took you back when you begged and pleaded because I believed you when you told me you wouldn't cheat again. I gave you chance after chance to make it up to me and just when you did, I'd find out that you cheated again. So no, you don't understand, Finn."

He hangs his head in shame as you speak. He knows that what he did was wrong. Now he's trying to right this wrong.

Finn waits until you're done talking before he says, "I understand what I did was wrong. I've grown and reflected in the past year, Y/N. I've met someone I'm happy with. I've met someone who's kind and beautiful and hasn't judged me because of my past. I've met someone who is nothing compared to ya. I know ya won't forgive me but I want ya back in my life because this whole ignoring me then being smart when we've talked sucks."

You squint your eyes at Finn and say, "Then maybe you shouldn't have cheated."

"I wish I didn't, Y/N!" Finn says, raising his voice. "Believe it or not but I did regret it every time. I hid it because I didn't want us to be in this exact situation."

You raise your voice and say, "Then maybe you should have just told me if you regretted it instead of hiding it! Hiding it did nothing but fuel my anger and hatred toward you. For the past year I have hated you, I have been angry at you, but most of all, I have loved you every second. It's frustrating, Finn! It's frustrating loving you when all you did was hurt me. Last Christmas, when you told me you cheated again, it broke my heart breaking up with you and honestly, I waited to see if you would come back but you never did. Instead you went out and got engaged, and it's not to me."

You've started crying by this point as you let out everything you've been feeling toward Finn for the past year. Everything comes spilling out as you talk.

Meanwhile, Finn's quiet. He's listening and taking it every single word you're saying. He wants to understand.

After sighing and wiping the tears away, you say, "All I wanted was for you to grown and think about your actions. That's all I wanted. Maybe I would have taken you back or tried again at a relationship with you if you came to me and talked to me instead of getting engaged. Now you're getting married and all I can think about is how proud I am of you and happy I am for you while being upset and angry with you."

A wave of sadness comes over Finn after you're done speaking. He finally realizes how much he's hurt you. He realizes his choices haven't been the best over the past few years.

Hesitantly, he reaches out and wipes away your mascara stained tears. Subconsciously, you lean into his touch and close your eyes.

Finn says softly, "I wanted to go back to ya, Y/N. I truly did, but I thought that I'd hurt ya too much and that ya wouldn't even listen to what I had to say. I've loved ya from afar this past year. There's always been a spot for ya in my heart, Y/N."

You look up at Finn, meeting his eyes. You cry, "If I had seen that you had grown and reflected and thought about everything then I would have listened. I'm listening now and I can see how much you've changed, Finn. I can see how genuine and sincere you are."

He looks down at you with a sad expression on his face. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear as he says, "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I truly am."

Eye contact remains as you say the words Finn's been wanting to hear for months. "I forgive you, Finn," is what you say.

He brings his forehead down to yours and he whispers, "I want one thing."

"What's that?" you ask, your voice quiet.

Finn says, "I want a last kiss. Just so we can both move on from this and grow as friends."

You stare up at Finn and say, "I can't do that. You have a fiancée, Finn. Don't do to her what you've done to me."

He nods and looks away, clearly upset.

You would do anything to kiss him again. His kisses always gave you butterflies, no matter where the kisses were on your body. His mustache would always tickle your lip when you kissed him.

You know what, you think to yourself. One last kiss won't be the end of the world.

"Finn," you say, getting his attention.

The Irishman looks at you. You wait a second before hesitantly kissing Finn softly. You squeeze your eyes so the last few years escape and roll down your cheeks as Finn kisses you back.

This is it. The official end of a six year relationship. You're both finally moving on. Finn's getting married and you finally have the closure you never thought you needed as your lips move more and more passionately against Finn's.

Both of you suddenly find yourselves not wanting to pull away from the kiss. Your hands slide up and rest on the back of Finn's neck as you continue kissing him. His hands rest on your waist.

Finn walks so he's pressing you against the wall in the hallway. His large frame pins you against the cream colored wall.

He leans down and picks you up by your thighs, pressing your back against the wall as you wrap your legs around his waist.

It's when his lips leave yours and attach to your neck that you say, "Finn. This isn't just a kiss anymore."

He looks at you and says, "I don't want it to be just a kiss."

"I don't want it either but it has to be," you say. "That's all it can be."

Finn kisses your lips again, this time more passionately and intensely than before. "Stay the night with me," he mumble against your lips. "Please."

In between kisses, you say, "You're getting married, Finn. I can't."

He says, "Ya can. Ya just don't want to."

You pull back and put your hands on Finn's face, holding him there. "Trust me, I want to," you say. "You have no idea how much I want to."

Finn pleads, "Then come home with me. I still live in that tiny apartment. My fiancée doesn't live with me. One last night together won't be the end of the world. If my fiancée finds out and leaves then we get what we both want in the end. Each other."

"That's a toxic way to think, Finn," you point out.

He says, "I know, but I love ya more than I'll ever love her. It's always been ya for me, Y/N."

Your mind begins to race. Do you go back to Finn's and get what you both want? Do you call it a night and maybe regret not going back to Finn's?

No matter what you choose, you'll probably regret in the future. Plus the hope of one day being with him again is the reason you say, "One last night. That's it. That's all you get from me."

Finn pecks your lips and smiles before putting you down and taking you back to his apartment.

As soon as you're back in his apartment, the clothes come off and they stay off until sunrise the next day. You spend all of Christmas Eve mending a broken relationship between you and Finn.

It's a terrible way to fix a broken relationship but you hope it works because you want Finn back in your life. No, you need Finn back in your life.

You just hope things don't get more complicated than they already are after the one last night with Finn.

[adxmparriish]

my high queen’s hospitality - read on ao3

writer: lizziebxnnet / godgavemelou words: 2575 rating: explicit warning: knife play

“If you ever leave me wondering of your whereabouts again - “ Jude begins, her hands finding Cardan’s dark hair and pulling roughly, “My knife will find your neck.”

Cardan shivers at her words and Jude grins a wicked smile.

Written for Day 26 of Folktober

@jurdannetrevels​ @jurdannet​ @slightlyrebelliouswriter23​ @clockworkgraystairs​ @illyrianwitchling​ @thefolkofthefic​

-----

Jude’s awakens to a small noise outside her chambers.

She rises quickly, assessing her surroundings. It’s quiet, early afternoon sunshine coming through the curtains. There’s a light breeze coming from the open window, and she can hear a bird chirping outside. Her eyes roam the space around her, looking for anything strange but everything seems normal. The gown she wore earlier is laying across her favorite chair in the corner, the bottom becoming wrinkled because she refused to hang it. In her rush before bed, it hadn’t seemed important.

Figuring the noise was the bird, she lays her head back down, closing her eyes to surrender to sleep once more. She finds her brain wandering, however. The night previous had been one headache after another, her anger blooming more and more as time passed. She had awoken to Taryn in her room, talking of Madoc and his latest schemes. It’s been weeks of news with nothing becoming of it. Not wanting to hear it but Taryn continuing to babble on made her irritable immediately. Afterwards, she’d been forced into correspondence, the least favorite of her royal duties. After writing for what seemed like days, where she thought her hand may fall off, she was swept away to meetings. 

Most of them were silly, stupid things, where she sat there and felt as if she wasn’t needed or wanted. The various members of The Living Council are still warming up to her, but without Cardan there, it seems they turn cold easily. The only time they engage her is to discuss revels, which irritates her more, as if the only thing she’s good for is planning parties. She stormed off halfway through their last meeting, slamming the heavy doors behind her as she left.

And then, there’s Cardan.

She hadn’t seen him all day. From the time she woke until she came back to her room, tears threatening to fall from her eyes, he had been suspiciously absent. She had asked several others where he’d run off to, with no answers from any of them. So angry and frustrated by the time she was ready for bed, she didn’t even bother going to his room, the one that had begun sharing after she’d been crowned. 

She can feel her eyes stinging behind her closed lids as she lies there, wondering where Cardan could be. Never one to be sneaky, at least not any more, it troubles her to not know where he is or what he’s up to. Pulling her duvet higher around her chin, she sniffs and blinks away the unshed tears as she finally drifts off to sleep once more.

-

When the bed dips behind her, her hand finds Nightfell under her pillow and she shifts, the blade finding a milky white throat in the pink light of twilight. Cardan laughs darkly, shifting away slightly so the blade doesn’t cut him. Jude’s face remains cold even as she relaxes, happy at least that it’s Cardan and not someone else. She hadn’t realized how much she had truly missed him over the hours, but seeing him now is like a breath of fresh air.

“Hello to you, too, my love,” he says, his eyes soft and his voice low.

Jude sits up higher, still not removing Nightfell from his neck. 

“Where have you been?” she asks.

Cardan shifts, trying to pull away but she presses on his throat, her face unmoving. Cardan’s hand finds her wrist, squeezing lightly.

“Forgive me, for I have been busy,” he states, eyeing her and the knife that still threatens him. “I was out having something made for you.”

At his words, Jude’s cold exterior fades, the blade falling slightly.

“Excuse me?”

Cardan reaches behind himself, pulling a beautiful dagger from his belt. The hilt is small, beautiful orange crystals covering the top while the rest is a dark black. The blade is long but curved up to a sharp point. While it looks small in between his long fingers, as he passes it to her, the hilt feels perfect in her palm. She lowers Nightfell finally, and drops it to the bed as she holds her new knife in her hand.

“Grimsen made it,” Cardan explains. “It’s been enchanted to take in the blood of whoever it kills, and it makes the wielder stronger as it does.”

He points to the crystals.

“This is aragonite. It’s a powerful crystal, with the ability to help the wielder to confront past trauma, wounds and emotions.”

Jude’s eyes sting as she holds the dagger, finally meeting Cardan’s eyes for the first time since he gave it to her. Even though his eyes are dark as night, they twinkle and shine as they find hers. She places her new dagger next to her other, before moving forward on the bed, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Sometimes, Jude thinks her love for him knows no bounds, and then moments like these prove her incorrect.

“I hope you’re aware I worried myself sick wondering where you were,” Jude chides him. “A note would have been lovely.”

“Forgive me, my Queen. Next time, I shall remember.” Cardan’s own arms have wrapped around her waist, hugging her tightly.

As they sit quietly on the sheets, limbs intertwined, Cardan’s hands begin to wander, their time without each other finding him longing to touch her. They find her hair, the nape of her neck, the small of her back. His long fingers caress her softly, drawing shivers out of Jude. Her nightgown, which has ridden up her thighs, isn’t doing much to cover her skin. Goosebumps begin to rise all over her.

“Oh how I missed you, wife.” Cardan shifts, his lips finding her neck to kiss her there. “Sometimes I wonder why we ever leave this room, why I bother to do anything but worship you.”

Jude wonders the same, especially on nights like these, where it’s just them and nothing else. When his hands are all over her, his low voice in her ears, and his heartbeat beneath her palms. Her own heart is pounding, her skin growing warmer as they kiss and move together.

“If you ever leave me wondering of your whereabouts again - “ Jude begins, her hands finding Cardan’s dark hair and pulling roughly, “My new knife will find your neck.”

Cardan shivers at her words and Jude grins a wicked smile. 

They don’t play this game often but when they do, it is some of the best fun they have. Jude gets the power she craves, and Cardan gets the freedom and ease he needs. They both win, both get pleasure, and both love every second.

She shoves him backwards to the bed, and his black eyes are wide as they stare up at her. Her bottom lip is between her teeth as she finds the button of his pants, popping it open and pulling them down his legs. Thankfully, his shoes are already removed and he’s bare otherwise. He’s already hard, so she licks her hand and grabs him, tugging lightly. She knows it must be a bit rough, but Cardan’s eyes roll back anyway and his hips move with her hand as she strokes.

“Jude,” he murmurs, trying his best to keep his eyes open as she moves her hand over him. 

She loves seeing him this way, the few times lately he gives himself away and lets go. Being High King weighs heavy on him most days, but when she can make him forget, make him lose himself and think of nothing, she is most happy.

When she tires of using her hand, she bends down and pulls him into her mouth. He is heavy on her tongue as she moves down, swallowing him completely. Cardan groans loudly, his hips bucking up, but she shoves him back down with her hands, pinning him. Her eyes meet his own as she takes him, and when he goes to grab her hair, her glare stops him, as if to say ‘don’t you dare’.

Jude gives it everything she has, closing her eyes and enjoying herself, as Cardan fights to stay still. He’s still loud, however, her name falling from his lips like a constant prayer. She hums and Cardan loses himself, cursing and forgetting he’s not supposed to be touching. His fingers find her hair and yank, and Jude pulls away, his cock falling from her mouth with a pop.

“Cardan, darling, no touching. Understand?”

He nods back at her. She smiles at him, but it’s sinister, and he knows it. She is unsatisfied.

“Use your words,” she demands.

Cardan swallows visibly, his hands gripping the bedsheets with enough force to rip them.

“Yes, my High Queen.”

His voice is bathed in thick honey, so rich and deep, and it wakes up something in Jude when she hears it. Knowing she’s the reason, that it’s because of her that he is so captivated, so aroused, she feels a power she never has before. She holds him in her palm like clay, and she intends on shaping him in a way no one else can.

She straddles him, pulling her nightgown the rest of the way up, but not bothering to remove it. Her hands pull on his shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it across the room. His skin glows under the moonlight that is now shining in their room, twilight finally ended. Other than the rings like always grace his hands, he is naked beneath her. Jude lives for it.

Jude’s eyes never leave Cardan’s as her hand finds his cock, holding it as she guides herself over him. She takes him slowly, closing her eyes as he fills her. Her head falls back on her neck and she loves this, loves him, can’t believe this is her life and her husband and everything else in between. Her heart is heavy and light all at once, hammering in her chest when she’s finally seated fully in his lap, completely full of him. 

Jude knows she is the High Queen but in this moment, it radiates through her. She is power reincarnated, a mighty Queen on her throne, an unstoppable force.

Cardan’s hands shake, the urge to grab her hips immense. Her breath is ragged, already so close to coming undone on top of him.

Jude moves her hips finally, rising and then falling. The slide, the pressure, it drives Jude wild. She moves slow but with intent, her hands roaming everywhere except her husband. She grabs her own breasts, her nipples, her hair. The silk of her nightgown torments her, so incredibly hot against her skin, and she wishes she had removed it but leaves it. Cardan moans and whimpers as she moves against him, his own hands trying to find purchase so he follows her rules and doesn’t touch.

Jude loses herself in the feel of him as she rocks against him and falls forward slightly, the angle changing, and Cardan forgets himself. His hands grip her hips tightly as he thrusts up to meet her, slamming into her.

Jude’s hands find her new dagger on the sheets immediately, the blade coming to rest against his pale throat. She stops bouncing on him, remains completely still as she looks into his eyes, a coldness there that she knows will turn Cardan into a puddle. His breathing is heavy, as is her own. His skin shines with sweat, his eyes are wide, and he looks at her with such an intensity, Jude almost wants to look away. Almost.

“I’m sorry my Queen,” Cardan whimpers, dropping his hands instantly.

“You know the rules,” she replies, moving the knife slightly so it digs into his skin. It isn’t enough to draw blood but his breath quickens anyway. It makes Jude’s skin heat up to watch him. “Touch me again, and there will be punishment.”

Jude begins moving again, the drag of his cock inside her making her dizzy with pleasure. She bites her lip as she rides him, keeping the dagger against his skin as she does. They both grow louder as she moves, Cardan’s own moans drowning out her own. They are a great and powerful symphony, the music of their voices bouncing off the walls as they engulf each other.

A fire begins building in her spine. She rides him in earnest, despite her thighs growing tired. Cardan’s hips start to buck involuntarily, his own release growing close. Jude leans down, the dagger still against his neck, as she captures his lips with her own. It’s messy, mostly clashing teeth and tongues. She continues to ride him with intensity, and she swallows his groan as it leaves his throat. 

Forgetting their rule, her demand, the reason her new knife is cradling Cardan’s throat, his thumb finds her clit. He rubs it roughly but precisely, stoking the embers building inside her. Jude can’t find it in herself to stop him, pleasure crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her mouth falls open in a silent scream as he touches her, pushing her over the edge.

Suddenly, like an explosion, like a firecracker, she comes undone.

“Come, Cardan,” she commands, her voice stripped and threatening to stutter, her hips faltering as she continues to ride him, her orgasm still rocking her.

He does, her name practically a scream as it leaves him. She doesn’t stop moving against him until he’s completely spent. Then, she falls against him, finally moving the dagger and tossing it to their nightstand. Her heart stammers in her chest, pleasure rolling off of her in waves. All the anxiety of the last day has finally left her, an ease falling over her.

Her head finds the crook of his neck and she spies the smallest amount of blood against Cardan’s glistening neck. In the height of their pleasure, she must have dug the knife too deep. Her tongue finds it, the coppery taste stinging her taste buds as she does. Cardan’s breath staggers as she does, so she slips her arms around his middle, pulling him in close.

“I’m sorry to make you bleed,” she says, kissing the spot that’s already begun to heal.

“It will be fine,” Cardan mutters. “It is not the first time, nor will it be the last.”

Jude looks up at him, pushes his damp, inky hair off his forehead, and smiles.

“I love you, Cardan.” It’s not a confession by now, but it makes her heart clench all the same. 

After all this time, she is unsure if it will ever be easy to say. Her love for him is powerful and unyielding, crashes into her like a hurricane at every available moment, and knocks her off her feet at the best of times. But even if it isn’t easy, it’s true, so she tells him.

“I am forever yours, my darling Jude.” 

Cardan pets her hair with one hand, the other drawing patterns in the skin of her arm, as they lie in the moonlight streaming through their curtains. They are quiet for a long while, Jude’s eyes finally beginning to get heavy, before Cardan speaks again.

“What will you name your new weapon, my love?” he asks.

Jude thinks on it, her mind moving slowly in her fog, before it comes to her.

She looks up at him, shifting so brown eyes can meet black, and she smiles at him brightly, sunshine in the middle of the night. 

“Heartseeker.”

[pawpaw-posts]

Do to a missing party member, the normal game I run for my kids was postponed. So the three remaining members found their characters, on another quest, unconnected to the normal campaign beyond their characters and items.

The local magistrate has sent out a call for hardy adventurers, to solve a mystery in the nearby woods. Hooded figures have been seen moving through the woods and, while nobody has been hurt, things have gotten weird.

Our heroes found themselves on the edge of the woods, just as the sun dipped behind the skyline. Cautiously entering, the group travels down the solitary path for quite awhile when they suddenly hear, what sounds like, a creaking door in the breeze, occasionally banging shut. A quick look around reveals little, beyond the odd still in the air. No sound, no temperature, no breeze. Nothing.

While staying put, listening and waiting, a single gust of wind blows from the direction they came, and leaving the area still, once more. Leaving our heroes, very uncomfortable. Sarrow backs down the path slowly, listening, and hears the creak again, this time able to place it off to the left of the path. She relates the discovery to her companions, of which only 1, is willing to leave the path. Snow, stays behind on the path, listening. With his keen hearing he not only hears his friends steps through the dense trees, but another set, a little ways off from his friends. Not moving, but pacing? Walking in a small circle? Either way, the hair on snows body, tingles with anxious energy. The possible danger to his friends, outweighs his fear and he creeps into the woods after the others.

Deeper in the woods, Sarrow (our human fighter), and B (our elf bard), step out of the denser edge of the tree line, to a much more open forest. Turning to go to the path and gather their companion, they quickly become turned around, and end up right back where they were. Some investigation, while not helping them find their path, did stumble across a large tree, with a large patch of bark, swinging open and closed, like a door left ajar in the breeze, but there was no breeze.

Snow, creeping through the dense edge of the forest, stumbles across a strange sight. A large circle of mushrooms, surrounding a patch of grass. The grass worn down around the edge, leaving a dirt circle between the grass, and the ring of mushrooms. Feeling it best to leave it alone, not knowing much about fairy rings, he finds his friends path. Soon coming upon them as the approach a large tree with, what appears to be, a cleverly disguised door.

Snow watches quietly, as they slip inside, closing the door behind them. Approaching the tree, he finds no trace of a door, no break or gap in the bark. A wave of panic washes over our rogue, as he begins banging on the tree, pushing, anything the might reveal a door. In frustration snow rests her head against the tree, trying to think of something. A cold chill, slides up her neck, then a voice, echoes menacingly in her head. "Password". Startled, snow tries the usual list; open sesame, please, open, all to no avail. Racking his brain for anything that might hint at a password, his thoughts rest on a single oddity, and the words "fairy ring" softly escape his lips. A click, and the door softly opens.

Meeting up with the rest of the party, they all descend the spiral staircase, that seems to have been grown, with the tree. Reaching the bottom, they step out into a massive cavern, that stretches far beyond view, fill with an equally endless, lake. The black sand stretching the shore far to either side. Snow decides to see how deep the water is and slowly makes his way out, into the cold, dark water. The water is remarkably shallow for the first 20 feet, barely reaching his hips. Then, a drop off. Snow, losing his footing, drops beneath the surface. The cold enveloping his body, barely managing to keep from going into shock. Seeing nothing but dark expanse around him, the water pulling him deeper, he catches glimpse of something and reaches. Catching hold of an oar, with B at the other end, pulling snow back up on the shelf.

Finally reaching shore, Sarrow, had a small fire built, to warm her companions. With Snow freezing, and extremely shaken by the experience, the party takes time to figure out what to do next. After some discussion, hey are interrupted, by a woman, walking out of the water. At least, this blue skinned creature, seemed feminine. Long flowing silver hair to her waist, and a beautiful black dress with hints of silver, and splashes of moving color, that seemed to mirror the night sky. Not seeming to be a threat, the party asks a few questions about the quest they are on, and a few about her as well.

After some conversation, they learn that their "cultists", were the very same that had stolen a valuable necklace from this strange new arrival, whom they learn to be a fey guardian. They were one of many guardians around the world, that protected weak points between the planes, so one, doesn't spill into the other. The party is shown an illusion of a clear globe, about 2 inches across, with a single drop, of something green, like it was frozen in time, the moment it dropped, the "tail" still visible. They are asked to find the cultists within, and retrieve her item, and they agree.

As the guardian steps to the side, the water parts, revealing a dirt staircase. It seemed solid enough, so the began down, beneath the surface. As the stairs descended, the water parting around them, a sharp corner leads them further down along the cliff edge. The party falls into a quick discussion about whether the stairs, were always there, or if they were created with the magic the parted the water, when they spot a dim blue glow in the distance, pulsing erratically, and quickly realize it to be the "weak spot" the guardian spoke of. It seemed to be more of a tear than a weak spot.

As the stairs end, they find themselves stepping into a long hallway, made out of carved stone. A large mosaic stretches across the width of the 10 ft floor, and continued far into the distance in front of them. It looked like the tentacles of a squid, but much, much larger...

Sorry it took so long.

[kyushouryu]

TWST Ch4 last part Spoiler

Rambling time along with the plot~! I mean, I did this along when i am going through the plot.

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Read at your own risks~!

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Are you sure?

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Okay then.

Seafood trio literally robbed Jamil of his job lol. they are so efficient that i cant keep up. And swimming exercise... you guys are fishes! What a way to promote swimming to burn fat! excuse me for the translation but what is coral sea breeze soup? Soup cooked with sea water and coral and seasoned with sea breeze?

Jamil is so grumpy throughout the story XD

So Scarabia specialized in divination...

SO IT’S REALLY JAMIL OVERBLOT!!!???? Oh my! All the guessing on Jamil, he really do want to be the ‘Sultan’! Not only Scarabia, he probably even aimed to control NRC’s headmaster. Azul, your unique magic is too dangerous and your hobby is really ughhh.

Of course, everything is a trap from our dear tako-mer, it even came with high resolution live-streaming from his phone (rich bastard...gimme one) You’re one popular bastard too, 5k view for this “The Dark Truth of The Famous Magician Training School”. Boy knew how to get attention with titles.

Seafood trio sure are slippery.

Kalim found out.... Overblot due to betrayal is also possible now.... Nvm, Jamil overblotted, well, not yet. but in due time with how he brainwashed almost everyone. Guys, do you not learn from the past 3 overblotting bosses???? And what exactly is Yuu’s role in this shinenagen?

Jamil’s magic is truly powerful and very, very dangerous in terms of power. Also, Jaafar mode Jamil with snakes!!! This time, it’s the worst overblot situation that we ever had,since we have no adults or staff reinforcement since everyone went away for winter holidays.

Sorry, i laughed at the ‘shot us away from the palace’ scene XDDD 

only you, floyd, only you will exchange your magic with Azul and change your voice just because you’re bored of it. 

And Yuu/I am salty about getting flown in the air to the end of the desert, “Good friends don’t fly others out to the end of the desert.” is my choice. And I’m not a straight man, Grim. Eel brothers are real mafia, yes, i’m repeating this again.

I guess ‘Oasis Maker’ is a blessing to mers. Especially the low mana count ratio to big magic. Well, i expect too much from Azul..... He and his business brain, trust him to figure something to make money out of a seemingly useless ability. Yeah! Mer riding, let’s not make it a thing..... They probably charge an arm and a leg for the service if not for the emergency. It’s probably one of the rare moments u see eels swimming in a desert river.... not sand swimming.

Ahahaha, Jamil got so into the praises, he didn’t even recognise the ones he casted out.

The typical struggle of master and servant dynamic, especially one as smart as Jamil. It’s very frustrating to hide one true self like him, to pretend you’re stupider. Kalim is just an innocent flower bred in a well-condition greenhouse, while Jamil had to give up his desire in order to please his parents and in directly, Kalim’s parents. The freedom he sought, is to live for himself and not for others’ desires. Ahhh! They did good on the backstory, it proved 4 times that I cant hate any bosses in here!

Jamil really did has a vicious tongue on him aha! Azul’s hobby! It even has an offical name - Other People’s Weakness Collection! My lord XD The 4th black stone for Grim to eat.......How do you even chow it off??? And he’s getting all weird and possessed after the meal. 

Oh! Hi~! Ace and Deuce! They did got our SOS XD, but you’re too late for the last party XD Sorry for the trouble LMAO But thanks for trying to help us! I guess Yuu maybe? just maybe got a bit closer to Octaville Trio (If there’ a friendship meter, it’d be at least a quarter full)

The ghosts are so cute, they acted like worried older family members to Yuu and Grim, and even helped them with the fireplace faeries chores!

!!!!!!Lilia! He really is a bat now that i think of it.... he’d been hanging upside down since the 1st day. He gave us a card from M.D., a holiday greeting from Malleus! I can die happy.

Why did the chat with Mickey at night seems so creepy? Especially when Yuu replied to the question: Where are you?, Here is...... Twisted Wonderland.

It’s January after the winter holidays.... So how long had Yuu stayed since ch1? And hi, Epel! He looked like he escaped from Vil and Vil is getting very mad. Well, that for us to find out in the new chapter around end of June, i guess?

I still dunno what’s Yuu’s role in here? To find out and trigger the overblot? Or to make all these brilliant magicians work together? Dire, you have some explaining to do.

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 30

The Beaumont Bash

Summary: Though everyone’s minds are occupied, the Bash ends up being eventful

Word Count: ~3.2k

Warnings: mention of character death, violence, language, implied smut

A/N: we’re nearing the end! just wanted to thank everyone that’s liked/commented/reblogged, it means the world to me <3

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen​ @gkittylove99​ @lovablegranny​ @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful​ @mom2000aggie​ @kingliam2019​ @queenrileyrose​ @shanzay44​ @cordonianroyalty​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @cinnamonspongecake​ @kuladekiwi​ @twinkle-320​ @charlotteg234​ @amandablink​ @texaskitten30​ @queencatherynerhys​ @pens-girl-87​ @ladyangel70​ @sanchita012​ @cordonianprincess​ @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen​ @pink-diamond13​ @queenwalton​ @yourmajesty09​ @alj4890​

I’m not sure if the tags are working or not, but I hope I got everyone down! If you would like to be added/removed, please let me know :) 

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- Hana - 

The dinner with Rashad went better than Hana thought it would. He had driven up to the Beaumont’s Estate in a limo, holding a bouquet of pink lilies. Rashad held the car door open for her, then sat at a respectful distance.

When they walked into the restaurant arm in arm, Hana tried to move the negative thoughts out of her head, at least just for the evening. But they were there to talk about Neville after all. She expected the night to be filled with frustrated and confusing feelings.

But Rashad didn’t even mention Neville until dessert. They spent their meal talking about the Social Season, what activities Hana had enjoyed, and how glad Rashad was to see her back at court.

Hana didn’t fail to notice his flattery and flirtations, and she couldn’t deny the fact that she enjoyed it. His light presence was refreshing compared to Neville’s gloomy one.

When the waiter had taken away their dessert plates, Rashad took out a small folder and slipped it across the table to her. Hana saw the look in his eyes: the man was reluctant to speak. She knew what he wanted to say, and she preferred he didn’t say it at all. She preferred to leave their peaceful evening as it was and not mention the hideous topic that was her husband.

They returned to the Beaumont Estate late. Rashad gave her knuckles a kiss and bid her goodnight. As she walked up to her rooms, she didn’t pay attention to the servants running around making last minute preparations. With the divorce papers and Rashad’s lilies in her hand, and Riley just a few feet away (ready to douse any doubts that Hana had), she felt freer than she had in years.

The next morning, the estate was bustling with activity with servants and members of the court getting ready for the evening. Throughout the day, Hana was nervous for her confrontation with Neville, but Riley distracted her mind from it.

She heard that Riley and Liam had an argument a few days ago, but the joy in Riley’s tone hinted no such unhappiness. Hana was genuinely excited for her friend, and wanted to ask what was next for the couple.

What Hana thought was even better was that Liam ignored his morning meetings and instead spent the day with Gabriel and Eleanor. The three of them even entered the dining hall together, the children hiding their giggles behind their hands.

Hana was thankful that the Beaumonts had put her seat as far as possible from Neville, and right next to Rashad. She saw Neville give her a side glance, and thought about the papers that were still in her room.

Again she forced herself not to think about him and made herself focus solely on Rashad, which she found not to be difficult at all. He actually listened to her when she had comments or opinions, and never failed to compliment her at any given chance. Though the compliments weren’t wanted or expected, it was satisfying to see Neville look over at the pair with such a displeased expression.

“Esteemed guests, please join us in the grand hall for the after-dinner festivities,” Bertrand stands from his seat to announce.

Anxiety pools again in Hana’s chest. She needed to build the strength to go and talk to Neville, demand that he fill out the papers. How on Earth was she going to do that? Rashad gives Hana his elbow, and she can feel eyes on them as they walk out of the dining hall. She sees Bertrand tell his son, Leo’s children, and Riley’s children to go up to their rooms. The children pout, but then say goodbye to their parents and leave.

From the top of the stairs, Maxwell helps Rowan slice open a bottle of champagne. The court cheers, and the hall erupts in party.

Hana dances with Rashad for a while, the careless movements feeling unfamiliar. But they danced and laughed together as one, and there was more peace and delight in those few hours with Rashad than there had been in the five years Hana had spent with Neville.

Once Rashad sat to take a break from the dancing, Hana walked away to find herself more champagne. When she finds two glasses and tries to make her way back to Rashad, she sees Neville talking to someone drunkenly in a corner.

Hana abandons the two glasses, leaving them on a table somewhere. Stepping over the broken glass on the stairs she rushes to her room to grab the papers and a pen.

When she rejoins the party, it takes her a moment to find Neville again. But when she finally does, he's laughing hysterically and has his arm around someone.

“If you’ll excuse us, I need to speak to the Earl for a moment,” Hana tells the small group gathered. They walk away, and Neville brushes his clothes and turns to speak to her.

“What is it, Hana?” he demands. “Am I not allowed to enjoy the party?”

“I wished to speak to you about something important.” She steps in his way to stop him from walking off.

“Can’t it wait until later?”

“I have some papers you need to sign,” Hana states politely. Before she can say more, Neville yanks the folder and pen from her hands. He goes through and marks everything without even reading it. Hana leans forward to see that he was marking everything correctly. Was it really so easy?

“There.” He shoves the papers back at her. “Now, for the love of God,” he leans in closer to her, “Let me enjoy this damned party. You’ve done nothing this Social Season except be an utter nuisance.”

A servant walks by, carrying glasses of champagne. Neville grabs one, and Hana goes for the other.

“And here I was thinking that our marriage would be advantageous, as your parents put it.” Neville scoffs, then continues. His speech is slightly slurred. Hana knows he’s drunk. “I might as well have married someone at the same station as Lady Riley. At least she would have given m—”

Hana doesn’t let him finish his sentence. She was tired of the nonsense that always came out of this man’s mouth. Hana moves the papers behind her and throws the contents of her glass at him. Some champagne flies into his mouth, and he gapes at her. Not allowing him to say anything else, Hana goes to put the divorce papers safely back into her room and spend the rest of the night with Rashad.

- Olivia - 

The party wasn’t exactly boring, it was comparatively more lively than recent Beaumont Bashes, but the investigation occupied Olivia’s mind so thoroughly that she didn't even realize when the festivities had begun around her.

Olivia grabs another glass of champagne and heads towards the doors, planning on calling Jacob and running some ideas off of him. She had too many theories to count, but there was always some piece that didn’t connect, didn’t make sense.

The breeze welcomes her outside. Olivia can hear the party pulsating inside, but she tries to tune it out. Taking slow sips of her drink, she glances at the time, wondering what the rest of her friends were doing. She considered going back inside to speak to Hana, or better yet, help keep Neville away from her, but Olivia sees something out the corner of her eye. She thinks it’s another party-goer, so she turns her gaze away. But she notices the person’s shadow edge towards her, then back away quickly.

Olivia follows the shadow, unconsciously listing all the places in her dress that she had weapons. She gets closer and sees that the shadow belonged to a tall man. He was looking in her direction, but when she came fully into view, he turns away again. There’s a black van near him.

Olivia wonders who and what the van is for. The members of the court who brought their own vehicles weren’t allowed to leave them on this part of the estate grounds. Olivia taps the knife closest to her hip, then calls out to the man.

“Is there a reason you’re standing out here?” she asks him.

The man stares back at her, but says nothing. He’s significantly taller than Olivia, even as she wears heels.

“Who are you here for?”

The man shakes his head, still silent.

“Are you going to answer me, or will I have to call security?” Olivia threatens. There was no doubt that she was definitely going to take matters into her own hands, but she was hoping that the mention of security would make the man speak to her, or at least leave.

“Waiting for my boss,” he finally responds. His accent is thick. She can’t pinpoint it, but it could be either Ukrainian, Russian, or even Polish. The information he gave wasn’t enough for Olivia, so she decides to press on.

“What’s your boss’ name?”

Again, the man remains silent. She wants to tell him to go wait for his boss somewhere else, but a thought edges at Olivia’s mind. This area was relatively close to the entrance, and there was another servants entrance only a few steps away. Perfect location for a person to quickly get into this black van and drive away.

Something clicks, but Olivia doesn't know if her thoughts are true or are false speculation. She turns quickly and heads back inside. She thinks that she might as well have a member of security keep an eye on him. Olivia needed to watch the guests.

- Liam - 

When Bertrand calls everyone into the main hall and the children have to leave and go to their rooms, Liam, Gabriel, and Eleanor are all hesitant to leave each other. Liam considered going up to their rooms with them and perhaps playing a game with them, but they walk off with their friends and Riley takes his hand. 

He remembers that he had asked Riley to give him until the end of the season to let him prove to her that they were still meant to be. He felt the fact had been proven true in his heart, and he knew by the way she looked at him that she felt it as well. He wanted to propose tonight, but didn’t know when the right moment would be. 

So when the music starts playing, he forgets his worries and dances with Riley. Amid the chaos that Maxwell had started, he focuses on her and lets everything else fade into the background.

When they get tired and move to take a seat on the steps, Riley rests her head on Liam’s shoulder and laughs. 

“I don’t think I realized how much I missed this,” she says to him.

“I’m glad you finally did.” He leans down to kiss her. When they part, she jumps up and joins Rowan on a horse that was going around the hall. Liam notices Drake on the side of the room, and almost goes to stand next to his friend. But Riley dismounts the horse, and he’s at her side again. 

“I’m tired,” she says, slightly out of breath. 

Liam looks around. People had started retreating to different parts of the estate to continue the party.

“Shall we visit the spa?” Liam asks her. She smiles, then takes his hand and begins walking up the stairs, avoiding the broken bottles.

In front of the door to the spa, she turns back to him. There’s a smirk on her lips. He leans down to brush his lips with the corner of her mouth. 

She takes his hand again and leads Liam down the hall. He notices that they’re near her room. His pulse begins to thunder at his temples. Liam steps into the room after her. He put a hand on her waist and drew her towards him. She looked up at him, then he lifted her against him and kissed her. Liam closes the door behind him, and they stumble awkwardly onto the bed. 

- Drake - 

Boris had arrived at Ramsford barely an hour after Jessica. The man rushed to hug Riley and the kids. Drake watched silently as the man greeted the rest of his friends, and gave Jessica a kind nod. Jessica was holding Drake’s hand tightly in her own, and he could feel the ring on her finger. He was shocked that she decided to wear it at all. 

Did it really not suit her, as she said it wouldn’t? He couldn’t tell. He wanted to lift her hand to the light and examine it. But he couldn’t do that in front of everyone. He didn’t even believe that examining it would even make a difference.

She got ready and met him in front of his room. She looked stunning. Like a goddess. But Drake wanted to avert his eyes. If his gaze fell on her, the only thing he could think about was Boris’ hands on her, his lips on her lips.

During dinner, Drake noticed how Boris and Jessica avoided each other’s eyes. He wanted to get up, punch the man, force him to leave. But Boris was laughing along with Liam and the kids. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Jessica asks him. Drake wonders if his annoyance was really so clear on his face, but he doesn’t really care. He carries on with his meal until it’s time to start the party. 

He remembers Jessica’s trips to Greek islands, accidentally forgetting to tell Drake where exactly she was going. Jessica frowning at her phone in the middle of dinner and shutting it off. Texts coming in the middle of the night. How had he been so oblivious?

Once the party starts, he keeps an eye on both of them, staying in the sidelines. Jessica mingles with the other ladies while Boris drinks to his heart’s content. Drake wonders how Riley’s enjoying the party, then sees her and Liam walking up the stairs.

His heart burned again. He wanted answers. He wanted to pull Jessica into a corner and demand that she tell him everything. 

How many times had she lied to him, said that she was going to run an errand but was actually spending time with this man? How long had she known him?

And there were more pressing questions, which Drake hadn’t thought about: if Boris played a part in keeping Riley away, and Jessica had been spending time with Boris for the past few years, did she know where Riley was all along? Had Jessica worked with Boris against Drake, Liam, and Maxwell?

The burning intensifies. Liam had told Drake how he felt about Theodore. Now Drake felt the same way about Boris. 

He moves without thinking. Drake grabs a bottle of abandoned champagne. He walks over to Boris, who was in a drinking contest with some Lord. 

“Boris, my man,” Drake pats his shoulder. “Come with me, I know you don’t wanna waste your time here. We’ll have a real drinking contest.”

The men around them burst out in cheers and laughter. Boris throws his head back and throws his arm around Drake’s shoulder. His steps are wobbly. Drake takes that advantage and leads Boris up the stairs into an empty room.

Boris falls back into a chair in the middle of the room. 

“Enjoying the party?” Boris asks. He looks over at Drake who still has the bottle in his grasp. 

“Yup.” And again, without really thinking, Drake draws his arm back and throws the bottle at Boris with as much force as he can muster. The glass shattering sends a jolt of energy through Drake. The blood dripping down Boris’ forehead was satisfying to look at. It’s what you deserve.

Boris tries to stand. Drake punches him. He falls onto the ground, bringing the chair down with him. 

In a flash, Boris is on his feet again. Drake feels Boris’ fist make contact with his face, and he stumbles backwards.

Looking at Boris only a few feet away from him with his fist ready to throw another punch, Jessica comes into Drake’s mind. She wouldn’t be happy with either man if she found out that they had fought. 

But what did Drake care? Clearly she had never cared for him. 

He throws another punch. His knuckles burn, but that’s the least of his problems. Boris’ arm flies back, Drake pushes him. The man is flat on his back. Drake jumps on top of him. He hits Boris repeatedly, wondering when the pain in his chest would go away. 

Boris’ bloody and bruised face underneath Drake didn’t make him feel as good as he thought it would. He can’t make himself stop. Drake forces himself to pull back. Boris was barely breathing. 

For good measure, Drake punches him three more times, ignoring his own bleeding knuckles: one for Riley, another for Gabriel, and the last one for Liam. 

Drake stands, huffing and puffing. He takes a moment to look at what he’s done to Boris. It didn’t exactly make him feel better, and he knew there would be consequences to this, but at least this man got some of what he deserved. 

“Got anything to say to me?” Drake asks again. The adrenaline was urging him to throw another punch, to get rid of this man permanently. 

Drake starts pacing, he couldn’t make himself stand still. He couldn’t deal with the fact that he had asked this man a question, and he had the audacity not to answer.

“You worked to keep Riley away, you kept Gabriel away from his Dad, you were fucking around with Jessica.” Drake didn’t know if his words were making sense, but it felt good to get them out. He had to do something to get rid of the energy that continued to build inside of him, and he knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to hit Boris again, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Boris mumbles something. Drake catches the man say “Gabriel.” He leans down to grab Boris’ collar. 

“Why’s the kid’s name in your mouth?” Drake spits. He was tired of this man.

Drake sees Boris’ bruised eyes fill with tears. “Never meant to... hurt...”

“Never meant to hurt Gabriel? What do you mean?” 

“Paint.”

“What?”

“Painting. Wasn’t supposed... to be in Gabe’s room.”

Drake lets go of Boris’ collar, letting his head fall to the floor. That wasn’t what Drake had expected.

Drake turns to leave, locking the door behind him. He didn’t know what to do with the information he had. Drake felt lightheaded, drunk, still a bit angry, but confused more than anything. For a moment he contemplates going to find Liam, but remembers that him and Riley had walked off. Bastien wouldn’t be as useful. Olivia. Olivia would help. She’d know what to do. 

He turns away from the door and goes to walk down the hall, and bumps right into Olivia. 

“Where’ve you been?” she asks. “I’ve been looking around everywhere but haven’t been able to find anyone. I saw someone outside—”

“Your answers are behind this door,” he interrupts her. 

She pauses, looking him up and down. Her eyes rest on his bloody hands. Olivia raises an eyebrow at him. “What?” 

“Just...” Drake rubs his face, wanting to get rid of the tired feeling. “Just make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. He knows more than he should.”

[succulentsunrise]

Where the Fire Lilies Grow

Content: SFW!

Time to see how far Tani gets in the Royal Knights Exam!! 

Also, a guest appearance of @thoughtfullyrainynightmare‘s Solara Equinox! She is so cool, I couldn’t help but have her here (with her permission, ofc!!) 🥰

< Previous | Next >

Chapter 4: The Trial

“You learn something valuable from all of the significant events and people, but you never touch your true potential until you challenge yourself to go beyond imposed limitations.” Roy T. Bennett

“They don’t seem to be taking the bait,” Tani remarked quietly.

The group had been holed up behind the remnants of a ruin for quite a while now, all slightly scattered in preparation for an ambush. The forest behind them provided some cover for them as well. They had chosen these further away ruins in anticipation of the other team advancing on them, but they were nowhere to be seen.

“Anyone have any detection abilities?” Adrastea asked, her eyes scanning the area.

Gamma shook his head decisively.

“If we were in a more fiery environment, perhaps,” he started, but shook his head again. “No, no.”

“I could try to locate them, but it would take a considerable chunk of my mana,” Tani offered hesitantly.

In such a large area, using the spell would drain most of her mana, probably. Unless one of the other group’s members used water magic while she was using hers, she’d have to go through the whole area slowly and carefully.

“Do it,” Adrastea snapped, her brow furrowed. “We are on a time limit.”

Tani gave her a glare, but dropped on her knees to the ground.

“You better protect the crystal then. This will take a while - and suppress your mana.”

She placed both of her hands on the ground and took a deep breath. Nature was her element, her home. She could do this.

“「The Thirst of the Cacti」,” Tani spoke, drawing on her mana to create a fat spine of a cactus. Its roots rumbled to the earth, vanishing from sight.

Still, she could feel them moving underground, seeking, being drawn onto mana signals. She was grateful for the silence and tension around her, as her teammates waited for results. Tani concentrated on the roots as they stretched beyond their natural limits in their thirst. They would only stop growing once they found what they were looking for. The more mana she poured into it, the longer the roots spread. Then - water. Yes, she could sense water.

“They are doing something to the east of us. In the forest on the other side of the battlefield, I believe,” Tani informed her team quickly. “One of them is a water mage. My roots picked up his magic. Gamma, can you throw that far?”

“Not in a million years,” the blonde boy answered, glancing towards the eastern parts.

“Let’s move forward, to the ruins in the middle,” Adrastea suggested, wrapping silken scarves around the crystal to both protect and move it.

“I should be able to hit them from there,” Gamma confirmed, also getting up.

Tani held a hand above her cactus, looking fondly at it. It would have to wither now without a source of mana, unfortunately. She moved to be behind Adrastea, protecting the rear while Gamma took the front. They moved quickly. They’d have to hope the other three hadn’t noticed anything, or otherwise Gamma’s projectiles wouldn’t be able to hit them. They duck behind another wall, this time all together.

“「Silken Embrace」,” Adrastea chanted, wrapping further layers of silk around the crystal.

It looked more like a cocoon than a crystal by now. Gamma lifted himself up to the wall of the ruins without much trouble. Tani quickly entwined her fingers and cast another spell: 「Ginseng Gaze」. From her fingers flew red, star-shaped petals of a ginseng flower, entwining together into a plant. She gave it to the blonde boy, who tucked it behind his ear.

“What’s--oh!” he started, but stopped as he seemed to realize its effects.

“It’s helping you work with your mana,” Tani still explained. “You should have better control over your abilities.”

At least she hoped it did. Icree went on and on about how she should learn about other types of magic so that her magic could support them better. Knowing is stronger than any amount of mana, Icree kept telling her. Tani had only ever augmented her friends’ abilities. It had been a little bit of trial-and-error-thing even then. A giant mass of hot magma suddenly appeared in Gamma’s hand, as the boy smiled widely. He stood on the wall now, a wave of heat pulsing from his magic. There was no doubt that he was a noble with an intense pool of mana. Gamma jumped onto another segment of the wall, at the same time twisting his body and throwing the blazing chunk of molten lava and rock towards the forest. The impact was devastating: trees fell from a large area where it hit, and Tani could swear the earth itself rumbled a little.

“I missed, but I can see them now,” Gamma commented cheerfully, hopping behind the wall again. “My attack’s still sloppy, the captain’s going to kill me if she sees it.”

“I’ll go--” Adrastea began, but the boy shook his head.

“I won’t miss next time,” he said confidently. “But I can’t promise I won’t hit you by accident.”

Tani peeked at the other group that was running back to the cover of the trees. They were protecting the crystal with water magic, clearly planning to counter the powerful fire-based magic that Gamma was using.

“Could you two work together? They are protecting the crystal with water now. If you could combo--”

“Absolutely not,” Adrastea scoffed, glaring at Gamma.

The boy simply jumped back on top of the wall and conjured another ball of magma. Tani could see that he was trying to shape it into something of a spear, but his control wasn’t good enough for it. With almost frustration and anger, Gamma threw the malformed chunk at the other party. It was rather terrifying, especially when Tani knew he didn’t have good control of it. That kind of a magic could easily kill. Another impact shook the ground beneath their feet. It was a small enough shake to make her wonder if she wasn’t just imagining it.

“Crystal destroyed!” a voice bellowed in the air - the announcement of their victory.

Gamma looked back at them proudly, not seemingly even tired after the two throws. He had easily pierced through whatever watery barricade had been erected before the crystal. Tani swept her face with her sleeve, drying the sweat that had formed there. She’d have to recharge before the next battle. She had very little mana left after all that. They returned to the platform together, the wind up there bringing a welcoming breeze to Tani’s face. She was worried. They would be going against Eric’s team next, that was for sure. Gamma and Adrastea were becoming more and more unwilling to work with each other, and their attributes were incompatible. Gamma’s magma could easily burn her flowers or Adrastea’s silk. Tani couldn’t help but feel like she shouldn’t be the one making strategies in this group. She wasn’t good at them.

“Good luck, Ben!” she heard Gamma wish someone.

A blonde, middle-aged man with quite fuzzy sideburns waved at them. He had a calm posture, smiling back at Gamma.

“Be careful who you wish good luck,” the man answered. “We might fight each other next.”

“Bring it on!”

Tani would have loved to sit down somewhere, but everyone else was standing. She withdrew to her shell, not taking part in discussions and barely looking at the fights. Magic clashed against magic, the battlefield changed in front of her eyes, and the first match-up finished. She could feel her mana returning ever so slowly, trickling back. She wouldn’t have enough for the next fight. By now it was clear - they would face Eric’s team. That team also had Ben, Gamma’s squadmate. They’d know two attributes from the team, but that was no advantage. Eric and Ben knew their attributes as well. On the changed battlefield, another battle began. Tani was too dazed to concentrate on it. She only noticed Gamma leave from her side quietly to meet with the just returning young lord Vermillion. Leopold Vermillion was the younger brother of Fuegoleon and Mereleona Vermillion, a talented fire mage in his own right. He had the characteristic orange hair, as well as the red markings around his eyes - similar to the ones his siblings had. Gamma spoke with the young Lord for a brief moment, both serious and swift about it. The time between Tani’s first and next battle felt too short, even if the pause stretched further. With her captain’s battle quickly finished, Tani and her group were thrown back into the battlefield, off to face Ben, Eric and their third team member. Brad was a brown-haired member of the Coral Peacocks. He looked a bit more nervous than the calm Ben and confident Eric. As they separated to their respective places, Tani turned to her team once more.

“Eric uses sand magic,” she told them honestly, giving them a worried glance.

“Ben has very nice copper magic,” Gamma shared in turn. “He has excellent control over it. I can’t wait to fight him!”

Adrastea looked like she was fuming inside.

“I’m not going to stay on the sidelines this time!” she exclaimed suddenly. “I need to show that I am a capable Magic Knight, and I can’t do that if you two do all the work.”

Tani grimaced. That would mean fighting in close-quarters.

“I can protect the crystal, but I’m really--”

“Good!”

“Wait, I’m fine if you want to go for the crystal this time, but--”

No sooner than the announcer had begun the match, Adrastea disappeared in a glimpse of an eye, the light blue silks floating in the air.

“Sorry, that might be my fault,” Gamma apologized, looking at the battlefield.

“Nevermind that,” Tani answered, frustrated. “Let’s find a defensible spot.”

There was a small elevated platform not far from them, which seemed to have some kind of a small mining cavern. They retreated there, with Gamma creating a wall of magma behind which they hid their crystal. It wasn’t the best creation, and likely anyone who would find them would be able to figure out it was behind the molten rock wall - but it was the best they could do for the time being. There were two entrances to the small cavern: one that connected to another platform through a bridge, and another one that led to a small ledge. Each of them guarded one of the entrances, nervously glancing at each other. Minutes went by slowly and painfully. Almost a quarter had passed when Gamma spoke up.

“I could go scout around a bit.”

“I’m--well, sure,” Tani answered hesitantly, looking at the magma wall.

Surely it would stand, even if she herself had very little mana to speak of. She nodded to Gamma still once more, and retreated closer to the wall. The blonde boy moved to the ledge, and disappeared from sight. It didn’t take long for Tani to hear a sound of impact. Gamma had clearly met someone out there.

“「Ginseng Gaze」,” she muttered impatiently, growing the same red ginseng flower and attaching it to her belt.

“Did you sense me, or are you just being careful?” a voice suddenly asked.

Tani looked to the entrance that led to the bridge. Eric was standing there, the light brown hair being tousled by the wind.

“I think you might be hiding the crystal,” he continued. “Which is silly, considering everyone knows you can’t attack.”

“Just come at me already,” Tani answered, glancing to the other entrance.

She couldn’t sense her teammates anywhere closeby. She drew out her sword. Eric moved his hands to create a missile of sand, which she deftly dodged. It hit the magma wall with a dull impact sound. Then, a little crack.

“Not a very strong wall!” the brunette man exclaimed, starting to throw his magic more rapidly.

“「Ginkgo’s Embrace」,” Tani shouted over him, holding her hands in front of her as fists.

Strong branches with fan-like leaves appeared around the man, clutching onto him and pushing him down. Her hands were shaking as she was holding onto the last ripples of her mana. The pool was empty, and she could see the sand gathering around Eric. This spell was one of her newest ones, and she didn’t have proper hold of it yet. On top of that, she didn’t have the energy to uphold it. Every trash that Eric managed weakened the branches. It didn’t take long for him to break free and continue his barrage of sand missiles. Though Tani attempted to block them with her sword, the power of it sent her against the magma wall itself. No matter how much she struggled, she had no mana, and she had no teammates to come rescue her. The shattering noise behind her marked the shattering of her dreams and her resolve.

“Crystal destroyed!”

Eric held his hand to her in an uncharacteristically friendly fashion. Tani took it quietly, letting him help her to her feet.

“Good fight,” he said confidently.

“Yeah,” she answered flatly, trying to answer his smile.

They walked outside together, looking around for their team members. Gamma and Ben appeared quickly, laughing together. They were both a bit scorched. Seemingly they had had a good fight. Tani sighed, and began to approach the viewing platform again. The quick steps of the younger boy reached her quickly, as Gamma sped up to walk with her.

“Adrastea was super close to breaking the other crystal,” he complained cheerfully. “She wasn’t a good match for the other guy, though - I saw him use fire as well.”

“Did you try to go help her?”

Small shame rose to the boy’s cheeks.

“No, I was having too much fun fighting with Ben,” he confessed.

“Can’t you fight him outside of competitions?” Tani asked rather sharply.

“Not recently. He is heaps ahead of me. When the captain takes us to the hot springs, he is there in an instant!”

“What does that mean? What hot springs?”

“In the strong mana region, there’s this mountain trail,” Gamma explained eagerly. “It's a really hot area - the air burns your lungs and you sweat like a pig just by standing there. The top part spews continuously lava, but during night it turns into a sweet hot spring! Captain Mereleona takes us there to practise controlling our mana skin.”

“I see,” Tani answered thoughtfully, avoiding looking at the boy for a little while.

It could be a chance to meet the Captain, couldn’t it?

“You have trouble holding up your mana skin?” she inquired carefully.

“Yep!” Gamma nodded. “Because my control is so poor, it takes me forever to climb up the mountain, and it’s a hellish journey. If I had one of your flowers, I’m sure it’d be easier.”

“If your captain takes outsiders, I wouldn’t mind that type of training myself.”

Gamma, hearing this, clapped his hands together excitedly.

“That’s a great idea! You can train me, and I can train you!” he said happily. “Even if we wouldn’t get chosen this time, there’s always the next one!”

They had reached the top of the platform once again, and Gamma sprinted towards other members of the Crimson Lion Kings. She could see the young Vermillion lord there with someone else: a woman around her own age, with beautiful sun-kissed hair and forest green eyes. The woman had a warm smile on her lips as she spoke with Leopold Vermillion. Tani was certain she had not seen that person before, but that was true for many people of the Kingdom. She simply stood by as Gamma went to talk to them. Once more, it didn’t take long for the blonde boy to come back.

“Leo seems to think it would be fine,” he said in an overly casual manner. “I’ll still need to suggest it to Captain Mereoleona.”

“Thank you, Gamma,” Tani said quietly, glancing at the other group again. “Who is that person with him?”

“Oh, her? She’s Solara,” Gamma told her happily. “A good friend of the captain.”

Tani nodded, stealing another glance at the strawberry blonde woman. She seemed like a gentle person. If Tani was any braver and not already tired from the day of fighting, she’d go introduce herself. Today, however, she had no energy. She could barely follow the rest of the battles. When Adrastea came to them and apologized for her behaviour, Tani had no mental energy to even try to advise her for the future. She watched Adrastea and Gamma make amends, though there was still tension between them. At least the knight of the Blue Rose seemed to realize that her leaving them alone had caused some trouble. As soon as the battle ended, Tani promised to be in touch with the other two, and walked home. Not just the dorms of the Azure Deer, but home.

The simple house was on the outskirts of Kikka, with a small garden on its side. No one was home when Tani stepped in - both of her parents and sister worked in the mines near Kikka, and they worked long days. She herself had worked in those mines before she had passed the entrance exam and became a Knight. She walked the small corridor to the spacious living room, and fell to the sofa. She was tired and she was sad. The only hope she held on now was that someone had noticed her efforts, or that at least she’d get to know the mysterious Mereoleona Vermillion as a consequence. She felt a bang of guilt - was she simply using Gamma to get to know his captain? No, she’d make sure that she would help the young boy too. Tani lifted her arm over her eyes and welcomed the darkness it brought to her. Sleep did not come instantly, but slowly.

Now all that was left to do was wait for the results.

[sinnamonfox]

~ Sean x Finn - A band AU~

There’s this somewhat lengthy AU I wrote in the beginning of May but wasn’t ready to post it. It’s more detailed NSFW than the rest of the snippets I’ve posted here and I guess I felt self-conscious about it, but.. it’s stupid? Soo fuck insecurities, here comes a dose of a smutty AU with the boys. Enjoy <3 

NSFW warning: blowjob, riding & use of recreational drugs

The Humboldt Crew has become a relatively famous alternative band among teens in Seattle's area in the last 6 years. The members are all teenage runaways, highschool drop-outs who met and connected through their same goal in life; making music (and getting high also helped in bonding). They play punk music with a hint of some softer vibes here and there. Cassidy's the lead singer, with the occasional acoustic guitar, Hannah, the eldest of them's behind the drums. Penny plays the bass while Finn, the youngest, shreds the electric guitar. 

Finn's 24, got his dreads in a ponytail with all sorts of beads in it, his left arm is covered in wristbands, has different kinds of metal rings, covering parts of his 'free piza' tattoo which isn't his only ink by any means. He's got the triangles, the vertical line on his chin, the few other lines and nonsense scattered all over his body which he got while being wasted or just because he could. He even has a full-sleeve on his left arm, it's a mix of 'cool, abstract shit' as he’d said it.

Finn's easy going, very sweet and chill with their fans, more often than not hooking up with some of them but he's got a steady fuck buddy thing going on with Hannah if neither of them get a date by the end of the night after a gig. Finn loves to fuck, just like his tattoo suggests, the post-concert adrenaline mixed with the marijuana making those strangers all the more appealing. Deep down he knows he’s missing something. The feel of belonging romantically to someone else and having a meaningful connection is something he wishes he had but doesn’t feel like he deserves it. 

Sean's a band geek, currently a senior in college at the age of 22. He's studying art, already making money out of it due to his luck, talent and having a best friend who majors in marketing. Lyla manages the advertisement, finds clients for him and is basically doing everything important accounting work for her childhood best friend, so naturally they share the income. It's a working deal between the two, helped them find a small but nice little apartment. They get graphic design commissions from small and medium-sized businesses to have their logo made, the style of their website, menus for restaurants and so on.

Sean's love life is dull, to put it bluntly. They go to college parties with Lyla and different concerts in the city so he's sort of trying to have fun, meeting new people along the way. He's bisexual and not a virgin in any sense. Had three girlfriends in the past and a boyfriend but none of them ended too well. Sean feels like he didn't find common ground with any of them, not in a classical romantic sense and not between the sheets either so they weren't long-lasting relationships. Sean was longing to finally find someone like that so Lyla, the Love Witch was on the lookout for him, 'advertising' not only his art but her best friend too whenever she had the chance, even though Sean asked her not to, multiple times.

Sean knows The Humboldt Crew's music, been a fan with Lyla since around the beginning. They get a commission from them to make different designs for their merch and their third album cover. Needless to say, he's excited to be working on that and as a friendly gesture, they even receive V.I.P. tickets to one of their shows. They get to rock out in the front row, singing along to the lyrics they both know so well with a plastic cup of beer in their hands and whoa, that guitarist is kinda hot?

Finn's a star, but one of those who don't even realize how good they are. Finn goes with the flow, he's confident and isn't afraid to be himself on stage, he enjoys the music immensely and it's showing in his behavour. He's jumping around with Penny and Cassidy, sharing grins and joyful looks, even takes off his tank top halfway through the concert to the crowd's amazement. Lyla notices Sean's interest and tells him how she's heard that he was pansexual so he's got a chance but Sean brushes it off, not believing that for a second.

She drags him backstage after the concert to meet the band. They're just as chill as they seem from afar, a very interesting crew with different personalities that somehow still found a way to work together. Sean can tell they're like a family from how they act around each other. The second Finn lays eyes on Sean from across the room, he just knows he needs to get to him so he walks up and introduces himself charmingly, flirting from the get go which instantly has Sean's cheeks go red because holy shit, this guy.

Finn picks up on it, knows he's got a chance and makes it his mission to seduce Sean because he's fucking smitten with the shy artist. Sean stammers, feeling like and idiot, especially since Finn's still half-naked with his sexy tattoos out in the open and are those nipple piercings? Lyla sees Sean's face and doesn’t need more, she scores them an invite to the band's house, where the private afterparty is held.

Of course, they get high. Finn chose to sit next to Sean, pressed to his side and is doing everything to mercilessly tease the younger to the point where he has to excuse himself and go out for some fresh air. It's not even that he's nervous, the weed and buzz from the alcohol has him in a good mood but Finn gets him so ridiculously turned on, like never before and he doesn't know what to do with it. The nonchalant touches on his thigh, his hot breath on his ear telling him he wants to see his skillful artist hands in action sometime, those pet names that make him melt and want to climb in his lap right there. This isn't like him, not at all. Sean never had a one night stand before but he was actually considering it because the guitarist is downright irresistible.

He smokes a cigarette out there in the dimly lit backyard, alone with his thoughts, at least for a while. Finn gets worried, thinking he came on too strong or he misunderstood the signs. Sean's startled out of his train of thought when Finn joins him on the wooden bench outside. He goes to apologize when Sean frowns and stops him. "No, no! Shit dude- I'm totally into it, it's just.." He lets out a frustrated sound, the words not coming to him as he gestures helplessly with his hands as if that'd help his case. "Never done something like this, I just met you and you're hot as hell, feeling me up and- Fuck, maybe I'll just shut up." Finn's easy laughter makes him smile too because somehow, it doesnt feel like he's laughing at him. 

"Damn sweetie, ever been told you're real cute when you get all blushy?" Finn teases which just makes it worse. Tells Sean he doesn't have to do anything he's not 100% sure about and he won't make him either. Finn’s starting to really like Sean. Interacting with him feels so real, no lies and pretending. The artist doesn’t treat him differently just because he’s semi-famous. Meanwhile, Sean's touched by his patience and thanks him for being so cool, also shuffles closer to the tattooed punk because he does want it, tells him so. 

"Then what are you afraid of?" The question breezes out of Finn’s mouth, the corners quirking up from finding Sean adorable.

"Nothing." Sean whispers back before closing the distance between them and it's one of those legendary, movie-like kisses that neither of them had before, with fireworks going off in the background. One that shakes you to the core and leaves you trembling, sucks the breath right out of your lungs. Sparks fly and it turns extremely heated with Sean swinging his leg over Finn's lap, Finn's calloused guitarist fingers travel up his tshirt at the back and pull the artist closer in desperation. Finn’s tongue tests the waters, asking permission into Sean’s mouth and he gains it almost immediately. After a few minutes of making out, they're both so stupidly hard, grinding mindlessly against each other while exchanging the sloppy kisses that fill up the night air with wet smacking sounds and occasional moans from the both of them. Finn's the one to initiate continuing it in his room, ready to back out if needed but as Sean's lustfilled eyes find his, telling him to lead the way, he’s sure about what comes next.

They sneak by the others and up the stairs but they're not even fully on the second level before Finn presses Sean against the wall and their lips collide in burning passion. Sean's making needy sounds and Finn's so drunk on it, pining his wrists to the wall and massaging their tongue’s together, taking charge of the situation. Sean absolutely loves it.

Somehow, the two men find themselves in the messy room with Sean on his back on a beat-up mattress. It's a miracle they managed to get that far. Not even five minutes later they're both fully naked and Finn's sucking off the younger eagerly, his mouth proving to be just as skillful working on his cock as it was spewing out filth, his fingers are opening up the tan male thoroughly. When Sean can't take it any longer, he pulls him up by his dreads and flips them over to Finn's surprise. 

After taking care of protection and applying lube, Sean sinks down on Finn's impressive length with a long, drawn-out moan that's rivaled by Finn's sounds of pleasure and his praises. His strong thighs flex as he begins bouncing. He’s clawing at the flat, pale stomach in ecstasy because this is perfect, Finn’s length is just perfect, hitting his sweet spots without needing to be guided. Sean wants to keep it down but when Finn starts fucking up right into his prostate, he loses all sense of control and let's go of his high-pitched moans. Finn takes the opportunity to take over again and pushes Sean on his back to pummel into him wildly, his dreads bouncing with his movements, both of them sweating. Sean can't think of anything else, he only feels the way Finn's sliding in and out of him, angling his hips with such expertise, it drives him crazy.

When Sean comes, it's with a scream of Finn's name that he paints his stomach, one hand jacking himself off, the fingers on the other digging into Finn's back, holding on for dear life. He clenches around Finn's dick which sends the other over the edge as well, spilling in the condom with a loud grunt and chanting of his partner's name. Sean's heart is thumping in his ears as he feels Finn breathe raggedly into his neck in the aftermath. He also has a lazy smile on his face when the older kisses him again. They're both sort of surprised at what just happened so no wonder they're grinning like idiots. Finn chuckles into the brief, sensual kiss before gently pulling out and taking care of the mess they've made with the help of Sean.

They're exhausted, it was a long night. Finn tells Sean he should stay if he wanted to, the arm he throws over Sean's sweaty torso is nice and despite their messiness, the artist burrows closer, welcoming the hug and agreeing to the plan. They fall asleep that way, wrapped up in each other, strangers who just met a few hours ago yet it’s already had such a huge impact on both of them. The next morning, Sean wakes up earlier and yesterday’s events come back to him, making him blush. He's hugging the musician's naked body from the back which just feels so natural, as if it wasn't the first time it happened and he's known him for longer than just one night. As Sean begins overthinking, it hits him; was this really a casual hook up? Are all of them so damn hard to walk away from? He feels somewhat stupid for having those feelings but.. this man beside him seems so full of love. The way he treated his crew, how he made sure Sean was feeling comfortable with the situation, his eyes going soft whenever Sean stuttered in embarrassment of right when he released.

When those piercing blue eyes take him in after waking up, Finn starts the morning with a groggy, „Good mornin’, beautiful.” Sean’s heart skips a beat and in the next second soft lips are on his again, movements so different to the night prior. More languid and sweet, as if Finn was bittersweetly memorizing the curve of Sean’s lips before he disappears, like he’s just used to people leaving him after they get what they want. Sean kisses back with the same intensity, no rushing in the slightest. They share a lazy smile, Sean’s face is flushed and connects their lips once again, letting Finn know he has no intentions leaving just yet. 

He’ll have time to thank Lyla later.

[femalechibiblogger]

Pokemon: James x Jessie Fanfictions

Dearest by StardustFandoms

It's a sonnet inspired by Rocketshipping. That is all.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22766920?view_adult=true

Win/Win by jessicarocket

Jessie and James get into a heated battle over a sweet treat. Who will be the winner?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22175755

One night in December (Rocketshpping) by Agent_Musashi

They meet in a bar. They want to be free and dream again. AU. Jessie's POV.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21874210

The tragic tale of two estranged lovers by madefrommagic

After an interesting dream, Jessie gets in touch with a few of her feelings, but unfortunately... that only spells trouble.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722986

Flowers In Your Hair by mizjoy

A lazy afternoon holds ocean breezes and flower crowns for Team Rocket.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21143033

A Comedy of Errors by doubletrouble (fairytale_bliss)

Jessie and James learn unexpected things about each other, courtesy of a helping paw from Meowth. Little do they know that it's about to change their group dynamics forever...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808011

Under Surveillance by rockin_rockets

Jessie and James get up to a little mischief during the biennial Team Rocket Conference. But neither of them realise that they are under close observation…

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20442242

Home by God217

After a particularly bad blast-off, Jessie winds up injured. Now it’s up to James to save her – and to be there when she wakes up.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18929776

I'll do anything. You know that. by God217

James can't sleep and Jessie decides to be soft for a change.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894745

A Little Mime and Magic by rockin_rockets

Jessie needs some cheering up, and James happens to have the perfect candidate for the job.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751057

Learning to fly by Agent_Musashi

Join James on his journey to become a freelance PokéRinger and meet his new friends. Well it started out down a dirty road, started out all alone... Set in an AU. James' POV. Rocketshipping.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15710577/chapters/36515748

Of Humans, Pokémon, and the Unexpected by Lilcoffeeoak15

What was expected to be a normal evening for Team Rocket turns into an unexpected talk about the relationship between two, the team, and perhaps what the future may or may not hold thanks to Meowth and Wobbuffet coming home at the most unexpected of times.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16069781

Not Enough by RocketShipperLevi

James wants to tell Jessie how he feels about her, but he is afraid that he will be shot down because he's not man enough.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15235935

Don't Let Go by love_write_edit_sleep

James was always the one to let go. The first time, Meowth was in pain. The second time, he was slowing Jessie down. This third time, however, he didn't want to let go. Not now. Not now he had something to hold on to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13999866

Undisclosed Desires by 12Redsky34

If there was one thing James was sure about, it was that his partner was the most beautiful woman in the world.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757586

Flight by Azumarocket

James knew that his past would always sit in the back of his mind, but he wasn't ready for it to jump to the front so quickly.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13364973

Making Christmas Memories by aviciousunicycle

Jessie, James, and Meowth find themselves taking shelter in a cabin on Christmas Eve. When James reminisces on beautiful Christmases in his past, he learns that his two companions do not have fond memories of their own. Using his meager funds and what he can find in a small neighboring town, James sets out to make sure that Jessie and Meowth can have at least one happy Christmas memory. Perhaps he even gains a new one himself along the way.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138353

The Long and Winding Road by jessicarocket

During a sleepless night, Jessie reflects on her past and wonders about her future.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13005000

Cloudgazing by Azumarocket

Jessie notices her partner isn't sleeping as soundly as he's trying to pretend to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843453

Sweeter Than Honey by jessicarocket

During an especially slow day in the malasada truck, Jessie finds a way to pass some time.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12803250?view_adult=true

Sunsets by jessicarocket

A magnificent Alolan sunset brings back memories.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12763029

Let It Snow by QueenInTheSouth

On a cold, snowy night, Jessie and James find comfort in a small hut and in each other's company.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419160

Carry That Weight by jessicarocket

Jessie and James are as close as can be, yet there are still walls between them that neither has had the courage to tear down... until now.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12205014

Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone by jessicarocket

When Team Rocket gets split up in a blastoff, James finds himself gripped by his deepest fears.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933811

If Skies Should Fall by Azumarocket

When Team Rocket changes in a way no one thought possible, Jessie, James and Meowth find their lives and careers spiralling out of control. Terrified of a future that's becoming more and more apparent, they realise that the only way to avoid it is to take an action that will both alter them forever, and leave no room to go back to the life they once knew.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13117377/chapters/30009081

Alolan Confession by Stagesiren

When Team Rocket takes a day off to enjoy themselves in Alola, some unrevealed feelings surface rather quickly. After some urging from Meowth, James is finally ready to tell Jessie how he feels.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11480280

Your Skin I'm Sinking In by GoofyGoldenGirl

She is alone and crying.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980939

dreamers by smolghostie

James has a nightmare about his memories of the past and his fears for the future.

Jessie is in love and does her best to comfort.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9392651

Paralysis by MadiYasha

I choke harder, and when I open my eyes, I can’t see her face. That’s the oxymoron, you see. Everything else is painfully vivid and sweltering, but even trapped in the snakepit of my memories, her face is not there.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9102289

Only Wanna Dance with You by CactuarTamer

It wasn’t that he disliked dances, or parties, only...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8012197

Threads of Fate by VoyagerWisp

Red threads of fate connect all those that have an impact on each other, for better or worse. Still trying to understand their connections to each other, Jessie and James travel with other Team Rocket members to Kalos. A pokemon native to there can not only see but manipulate those threads. Fate is anything but certain.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3909565/chapters/8750551

As Always by Galah

Last words were important. They reflect your whole life in just one statement. Hers was simple. Just one word, and it broke him.

“James.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/638669

Fate that Binds by rchcc122

It had been a throwaway wish, something made out of the frustration of the moment- it wasn’t actually supposed to happen. But the magic of a well haunted by a pokemon’s spirit ended up altering reality. Now, Jessie, James, and Meowth aren’t in Team Rocket. They don’t even know each other. And it’s created far darker a world for the TRio than Ash could have ever imagined, and now he and his friends want nothing more than to change things back to how they were.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11091099/chapters/24742350