#But then my jaw dropped by how sweet it was and my mind just disconnected what I was watching

[emuanon34]

Disney is not slick hiding the fact that the duet between Asha and Magnifico obviously started out as a love song between her and the Star Boy.

We almost had the second coming of Jelsa but without the copyright infringement.

The lyrical difference between the official song and the demo song is that the demo says “Love” but it’s replaced with “Promise” in the official version.

#Wish #Disney’s Wish #I know people are gonna make Jack Frost ship animatics and I couldn’t be more exited #Animation #Disney #so anyways can anyone tell me where Bob Iger lives? #Anyone have any ship name suggestions because Non Copyright Infringement Jelsa is the ship name I have so far #When I was whatching the cam rip and The King started singing I was like hehe it’s Jack Frost singing #But then my jaw dropped by how sweet it was and my mind just disconnected what I was watching #I couldn’t stop thinking about Jack Frost having a duet with Elsa or Toothiana

[aestheteanime]

thinking about jean kirstein and how pathetically romantic he is.

the way he admires your beauty as you rest peacefully next to him, head resting against his shoulder. the way you always have his full attention when you're speaking to him. and the way he holds you oh-so-tenderly, fingers grazing along your skin, treating your body as if it was sculpted by the gods-- and as far as he's concerned, you were.

word count: 0.5k

jean's lips slowly trail up your neck, softly kissing the blushing skin as he murmurs unintelligibly, sighing as your slender fingers curl through his long hair, tugging him closer to you. his forearm rests next to your head on your shared bed, hovering his body over yours as his other hand grips your hip, firmly pressing it against the plush mattress.

he smells like a mix of vanilla and lavender, sweet and comforting yet warm and invigorating. jean's calloused hand massaging the muscles of your waist only help to pull you upward towards him, wanting, needing, more of his touch. he's methodic with his movements though, his focus only on you, only on easing out every knot from your body and relaxing you completely.

your head spins at the minimal contact, whimpering as he chuckles lowly in your ear. "jean," your eyes close when you bring his lips to meet yours, fingertips brushing over his cheek and hooking around his nape. his lips are soft against yours as he hums into your mouth, careful with his movements. his hand slides from your waist to caress your jaw, tongue sliding between your lips as yours meets his half-way. it's warm and sweet, jean breathing against you and drinking in your scent, smiling against your mouth.

he pulls away agonizingly slow, not wanting to separate from your touch. "yeah, pretty?" jean's voice is velvety, eyes glassy and so full of love for you.

your eyes meet his, souls connecting and intertwining, combining into one. and in this moment, you see nothing but him; feel nothing but him. as if you're meant to be together, and as far and you two are concerned, you are. "i love you." your voice is almost a whisper, afraid that if you're any louder you'll scare him away.

the silences that elicits in the room moments later is deafening, and jean's blank, unreadable expression doesn't help the sudden drop in your stomach. but that worry quickly fades just as quickly as it appeared as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. "i would rearrange the stars in the sky if you asked me to," he pauses, placing an open-mouthed kiss to your lips. "you are the only person on my mind. ever." another kiss, this time longer, deeper, as if he's trying to memorize your very being. "you're all i want, all i'll ever need." a third kiss to your lips, thumb circling your cheek. "there aren't enough words in the world to describe my complete and utter adoration for you."

you grin, guiding his lips back to yours in a sweet, intimate kiss as your legs wrap around his body, roughly pulling his body down on top of yours. your lips disconnect at the sudden movement, stifling a laugh at the small 'oof' he lets out. "you could have just said 'i love you too.'" you smile, cupping his face in your hands.

jean rolls his eyes, chuckling as your legs tighten around his waist, his entire weight pressing against you. "i love you too."

#i'm on a jean kirstein brainrot #he's so hot i've never wanted to play with a man's hair more than i want to play with his #taes thinking about series #anime #anime imagines #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot #jean kirstein #jean x reader #aot imagines #aot fluff #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein fluff #anime drabbles #aot drabble #aot one shot

[5csbin]

make-out sesh!

taehyun x reader genre: fluff & suggestive warning: hickeys & making out ofc and a bit of grinding

it was so addicting to make out with taehyun, his pretty pink lips always left you in a daze.

it was six months into being taehyuns girlfriend and it was also the first time y’all had ever made out. after it you two just kept on making out everywhere.

his pretty lips on yours and his hands on your waist made you feel butterfly’s in your stomach all over again.

this week was one of the most hectic weeks. exams were going on all week you weren’t able to see much of taehyun.

so once school ended on friday you both decided to chill in your house and watch whatever series came up on netflix.

you two both walk in to the nearest corner store to your house and get whatever snacks you both wanted payed and went on a walk back to your home.

“taehyun!” you giggled as he just got done telling you a bad joke as you walked into your house.

slipping your sneakers off your feet and slipping on your slippers, taehyun following too with some slippers he had already in your house.

“im back!” you yelled making your way through the house. “don’t be so loud.” taehyun hissed from behind you

“no ones home anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “that’s a shame i really like ms.(l/n).”

you turn around and glare at him while he he has a grin on his face. “fine..” you turn around and walk to your bedroom.

“im playing (y/n).” he ran over to you and you both walked into your room, him closing the door behind him. “sure whatever taehyun.”

he dropped his backpack to the ground and made his way to your bed that could almost fit both of you. “ever thought of upgrading into a new bed?” he said jumping in his seat.

“i told you i was getting a new bed next month already.” you said sitting down next to him.

“the remote is right there,” you pointed to your bed stand where many decorations and where the remote was.

taehyun got the remote and turned it on quickly going to netflix. you on the other hand got your knee socks out of your feet since they were killing you from always having them on.

“let’s get comfortable.” he said while making some space so you could lay down next to him. you crawled you way down next to him before laying.

“what do you want to watch?” he asks while roaming around different shows. “i don’t know.. let’s watch something funny.”

he scrolled around for a bit before deciding to watch another episode of the office.

the first three episodes the two of you wouldn’t stop laughing and giggling about how funny it was but soon you got really bored with the show.

you yawn resting on his shoulder. “is it me or is it getting boring?” you said almost in a sleepyish voice.

“noooo! we were getting to the best part!” he whined looking back at you with big puppy eyes pleading you to not fall asleep.

“i don’t care i’m gonna go to sleep.” you shut your eyes waiting for some sleepiness to hit. “cmon!” he groaned shaking your shoulder.

“stop! im trying to sleep.” you mumbled. “then dont!” you didn’t listen and continued to want to sleep.

“if i kiss you will you not sleep?” he whispered in your ear, knowing it would send you chills. your eyes opening back up to see a smirking taehyun in front of you.

“maybe..” you said trying to hide a smile forming on your lips. “uh huh.” you lifted your face from his shoulder, closed your eyes waiting for his lips to connect to yours.

“wait!” you opened your eyes and saw him getting up from the bed making you follow. “what? why’re you standing?” you asked.

“i want to try something.” he said, pulling on your arm and making you get against the wall. your cheeks immediately going red and heart racing.

“are you planning on having sex with-“ “no!” he assured you. “i just want to try yknow making out you while standing.” you hummed, “what made you want to try this?” his ears went red.

“yeonjun hyung told me girls like it when they’re against a wall.” you couldn’t help but laugh at him. “i don’t think he meant making out babe.” you giggled.

“oh.. then never mind.” he was about to walk to the bed when you pulled on his arm making him come closer to you.

“now you left me curious! let’s try it!” you whined. “okay.”

you closed your eyes once again and waited for him lips to connect to yours. and once they did he pushed you further into the wall. one of his hands went to your cheek while the other wrapped with one of your hands.

even if you couldn’t see you knew he was enjoying this. a sigh escape from your lips when one of his legs were in between your legs.

his lips going down to your jaw giving you light kisses till it made its way down your neck to your collarbone.

you moaned out once he started to suck on your collarbone. “it feels so..” you whined. “good?” you nodded frantically. moving your hips a bit on his knee causing friction to to your thighs.

“yes! oh my god..” you melted under him. his lips disconnected from your collar and looked back at you. your face was flushed and it looked like he actually took your breath away.

“let’s stop..” he said moving back to the bed where he was previously laying. “what?” you looked at him confused. “just like that?”

his face went blank as he stared back at your tv. “you won’t fall asleep now right?”

he smirked not even looking back at you.

“b-but you just left me a hickey- i thought you wanted to-“ you came back to your senses and groaned knowing he only did it so you want fall asleep in his favorite part of the show.

“oh okay..” you walked over to your bed and instead of laying next to him you got on top of him.

he froze and shot up, his back hitting the bed frame. “what are you doing?” you shrugged and had a small smile on your lips.

“just shh and enjoy.” he rolled his eyes before relaxing and closing his eyes knowing you’ll probably just want to kiss him again.

you pushed your lips towards him locking lips. his lips tasted like cherry chapstick, there was no way you couldn’t have want more.

you licked his lips before gently biting down on it. a gasp fell from him making you push your tongue inside of his mouth, exploring every bit of his mouth.

pushing your tounge away from his mouth a smirk fell to your face. “you enjoyed that right?” you teased seeing his eyes close and mouth open taking heavy breaths.

but before he could respond you latched your lips to his neck, giving him light kisses sending him chills.

“mmh.” you heard him moan. your lips trailing down to his collarbones where you immediately started to suck on.

your fingers twiddling with the buttons of his uniform plaid shirt having more access to his chest.

“don’t leave too much..” he mumbled. you hummed back continuing to mark him. his hands trailed down to your waist so he could hold onto you better.

your mouth did a popping sound once you were done with one. a big purple bruise on his collar.

moving onto his neck you tried to find his sweet spot and once you found it the grip on your waist tightened.

“fuck don’t stop that.” he groaned making you suck harder on his neck, making sure this specific hickey never faded for a while.

whimpers and gaps fell from his pink lips like if breathing was getting harder from him.

seeing yellow lights pull up to your driveway you knew your parents were home. detaching your lips from his neck you attached them back to his lips.

kissing him with passion as both of your lips moved together. his hands rand up and down your waist as you messingly played with his hair.

hearing footsteps come closer to your door you detached your lips and jumped to the other side like if you were just laying down.

“(y/n) come he- oh taehyun, you’re here?” your mom said after opening the door. “hello ms.(l/n).” taehyun said waving his hand.

your mom looked at the screen then back at you two. “i’ll leave you two alone.” with that the door closed.

almost like you were holding in your breath you sighed. looking at the screen you saw the netflix thing that would always appear.

‘are you still watching?’

looking at taehyun he was already staring at the screen. “do you think she thinks we were doing something else?”

he nodded his head. “most likely.” you groaned and rested your head on his shoulder.

“im going to get the talk for sure when you leave tonight.”

#taehyun #taehyun x reader #kang taehyun #txt taehyun #beomgyu #kpop #txt imagine #txt #yeonjun #soobin #hueningkai #txt reactions #txt smut #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt x reader #moa

[chaoswithinstars]

fallen from grace [Tomioka G.]

CW: blood, biting, demon!reader, dom!reader

When you were turned into a demon, Giyuu was certain you would be like the rest of them. He had no hope and was fully prepared to take your life, to end your suffering as a bloodthirsty animal but you ran, faster and stronger because of your human blood still racing through your veins. He searched for you, interrogated other demons for years until he stopped seeing the point. Giyuu tried so hard not to think of you, pushing his memories of your time together into the furthest reaches of his mind until he met the siblings, seen the girl protect her human brother. That tiny flame of hope Giyuu tucked away in his soul became a wildfire and all thoughts of you came rushing back along with heartbreaking yearning for your gentle touch.

He started searching once again, efforts tripled until he finally found you. He found you at a lakeside, sitting on a mossy rock and humming a familiar tune. You looked like a goddess, framed by idyllic forest and the fireflies dancing in the night. You didn't change much. Your hair was longer, tips crimson, your eyes were no longer that brilliant shade you loved the most as a human but you were still all soft curves and gentle smiles. You looked at him as if he was all that you've been waiting for, like he was the one who ran away.

Giyuu has always been a good man. Silent, strong and smart, talented with a sword. He was admirable but somewhat oblivious to how other people perceived him. Not to you though. With you, he couldn't hide himself, shove back his desires and darkest thoughts. With you, Giyuu let himself sink into depravity. Maybe it was your demon nature or maybe it was because he remembered you from before- bright smiles, silver tongue and strength hidden beneath a fluffy exterior. Giyuu didn't know nor did he particularly care. Especially now that he has finally found you.

"You're beautiful." Giyuu didn't know what prompted him to break the silence nor why those were the first words to come from his mouth. He was enchanted by your appearance, by your graceful movements as you beckoned him closer. You were still humming that alluring tune, voice so lovely that it resonated somewhere deep in his soul, settling down what little urge to kill you he had.

Maybe it's your presence, that enchanting voice or the alluring scents of nature (of you) that made Giyuu drop all of his walls down. After all, most of his life has been spent in search of you and now that he found you… Why couldn't he let himself enjoy this moment of happiness, a moment so rare in the life of a demon slayer? Giyuu reached out towards you and you took Giyuu's hands in yours, pulling him closer and into your embrace. His lovely blue eyes traced each part of your face, memorizing that which he was already familiar with from a lifetime before. Giyuu was warm in your arms, sinking against your body like a doll whose strings were cut off. You smiled, lips framing your sharp teeth.

"And you're looking as tasty as ever, slayer." Your words made Giyuu's thoughts swim, disconnected. He could not think of anything else but you, making you happy, giving everything he is to you. "I've watched you, little mouse, seen you fight my kind and it made me ravenous."

Giyuu shuddered at your words and yet did nothing. He let you nuzzle his neck, lick a strip up to his jaw. You nibbled on his soft skin, tempting yourself with a taste of his flesh. And yet, Giyuu wasn't afraid. He yearned for more, for a revival of heated memories when you two were the same, when you were both human and weak, equal before the gods.

"It isn't often that a snack enters my den all by himself. Usually, there's more of you wretched humans disturbing my oasis." You speak, breath warm and tickling Giyuu's ear. Your hands pull him onto your lap, making him straddle you. Giyuu looks down at you, brain foggy from all sensations you brought on. "But you, little mouse, you're different. Makes me want to keep you like a good pet."

Giyuu allows you to pull him in for a kiss. It's hunger and fire, consuming him until he feels like nothing will be left of him. He grabs onto your shoulders, nails digging into your clothes as he struggles with himself, with the instincts urging him to rut against you, to moan and beg. Your claws slice through his clothes with ease, baring his skin to the cool air, to your own wandering hands. Giyuu gasps, ripping his mouth away from yours, out of breath. Your name echoes off the trees as you lavish his neck and chest with licks and bites, leaving marks on his pale skin. You break skin with your teeth on his chest, drawing blood. He whimpers as you lick it up then suck on the tiny wound. It's odd and dangerous but still a thrill Giyuu doesn't want to miss out on.

"What a good boy you are." It's a coo, a praise wrapped in a patronizing tone Giyuu usually hated but didn't mind now because it came from you. "Such a good snack, not struggling when I indulge a little taste."

You look into his eyes as your touches become more daring, lips still smiling even as your eyes devoured all of Giyuu's reactions. Giyuu's head fell back once you grasped his dick, fingers wrapping almost too hard around his length but a little pain was good as long as you were touching him.

"Look at me." You commanded and Giyuu obeyed immediately, eyes wide at your harsh tone. He didn't want you to be mad, to stop the movements of your hand. "What kind of a slayer are you? Wanting to fuck a demon of all things. You're messed up, aren't you? Don't worry, I won't tell, it's our little secret."

Giyuu felt his eyes tear up. It's been years since he last cried but your words struck a cord even as he felt pleasure from your hand and the tone of your voice. He felt so ashamed of himself. Indeed, what kind of a slayer was he?

"Are you going to cry, little mouse?" You laughed, hand moving faster over his dick. "I wonder what your friends would say if they could see you now. They'd probably laugh at you. Or maybe some would join me in my fun and we could all have a turn with you."

Giyuu whimpered, teeth clenched over his lips. The thoughts you put in his head were tempting, far too much for him.

"You're so close, aren't you?" You ask, knowing full well that it won't take long before Giyuu broke apart. "Don't worry, you can cum whenever you want."

Giyuu fucked into your fist, enjoying the squeeze of your fingers, every teasing pass over his leaking head, your demeaning yet arousing words. It didn't take that long for him to spill all over your hand, making a mess. A mess you happily fed to him until there was nothing left.

"On your knees, slayer." You ordered, pushing him out of your lap to his knees. Giyuu watched as you stripped, showing yourself off and he wondered what he did to deserve such a treat. Your body seemed to glow with some inner light, once again reminding Giyuu of a goddess. You were terrifying in your beauty and all Giyuu could think of was worshiping every inch of your being. "Good boy."

You sat back on your rock, straightening your left leg until your foot was on Giyuu's shoulder and he placed his trembling hand on your joint. He could feel your eyes on him as he kissed your leg, slowly moving upward until your knee was hooked over his shoulder. Giyuu looked up at you, eyes seeking permission to go further and a moan broke from him as you nodded. He dived in between your legs, arms over your thighs as he kissed then licked and sucked at all the right places of your pussy. Your taste was exquisite, like ambrosia sent down from heavens. Your scent was heady and your soft sighs like music to him.

You praised him, one hand gentle in his hair, pushing him further into you. Giyuu thought that he could die right now, with no regrets, just because he made you feel like this. You were so wet, so warm and sweet… Giyuu couldn't get enough. You cried out when his fingers, rough from sword handling, entered you, moving first slowly then faster until you were grinding against Giyuu's face, panting as you came closer to the edge. Giyuu looked up at you from between your legs, eyes focused on the ecstasy on your face. He curled his fingers inside of you, pressing against that spongy spot inside of you and your thighs locked around his head, keeping him still as you rode out your orgasm.

You hunch over him, pulling his head from between your legs, cradling his face in a gentle hold. Giyuu knows that he probably looks a mess from your arousal, face wet and red, but it was worth the sweet look in your eyes and hunger on your face. He'd let you devour him whole if only that was his last memory.

You push him down, sinking to your knees and straddling his hips. Your hands caress his chest, fingers curling and your claws leave red lines on his skin. Another mark Giyuu would be happy to carry on into his next life. He's out of words and breath when you sink onto him, taking him to the deepest reaches of your body and all he can do is hold onto your hips as you ride him hard and fast. Giyuu knows that you're just using him, that he should be happy that you gave him the honour of feeling your wet heat grip his dick, clench around him.

"Thank you, thank you…" The words tumble out of his mouth, unbidden but truthful. He cums when you laugh at him, when your clawed hand wraps around his throat, squeezing ever so lightly.

You continued riding him, drawing tears from his pretty eyes from overstimulation. You ride him until you've milked him dry and got your fill of ecstasy. A growl rips from somewhere deep in your chest as you cum, grinding down on him to get those little aftershocks of pleasure. Your hand moves from Giyuu's throat, fingers chasing sweat drops on his chest. You lie down on top of him, humming that same tune from before.

Giyuu doesn't particularly care that your teeth are close to his jugular, that you're splitting open his skin to lick up his blood. All he knows and wants is to stay with you, surrounded by your warmth.

"Poor little slayer." You murmur into Giyuu's ear, voice filled with pity and something else Giyuu cannot comprehend. "So many desires unspoken, so many wishes not coming through. Do not worry, I'll take care of you."

The slayer never noticed the miasma descending around you two, just closed his eyes as you sang him to sleep. He looked like a doll as you picked him up, body limp as you carried him up into the trees. You set him up among many other humans in your den but took special care to preserve him.

"My little mouse." You purred, caressing Giyuu's face, tracing his lips. "I'll be good to you, no one will ever find you or hurt you here."

#hefi writes #spicy writing #dom!reader #demon slayer smut #giyuu tomioka smut #giyuu tomioka x reader

[buckyownsmylife]

Don't Breathe - Chris Evans smut

The one where your best friend and your boyfriend are fucking behind your back.

Warnings: smut, cheating, chris x your best friend, humiliation?, chris is an asshole in this, exhibitionism, the betrayal is real

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: this is sort of a companion piece to breathe, hence the same picture. While that one explores the extremes of loyalty, this one explores the extremes of betrayal. I also couldn't bring myself to create another moodboard. I wrote this story in one sitting, in the last anxiety episode I had and it helped me get to the place I am today - a better place than I was before, so while I'm grateful for it, I'm only publishing this to give myself some closure. I haven't edited it. I haven't asked anyone to beta read it for me because I simply can't look at it anymore. But it might help some of you, and it might even arouse some others (yes, there are people who have cheating kinks. Let's all be grown-ups and accept that sexuality is a complex and difficult thing. I won't accept kinkshaming in this blog). I only ask that you do not ask me about this story, how it came to be or any sort of part two's because I literally can't stand to look at it. Thanks, you guys!

“Bitch really has no idea, huh?” Chris chuckled as he welcomed his mistress on his lap, licking his lip at the sight of the voluptuous body on top of his. He’d been dreaming about it for a while now, imagining it was her he was fucking when she was away and he had to fuck his girlfriend.

“Not a clue.” He was a bastard, he knew it. He was a son of a bitch, a good for nothing. He didn’t deserve to ever be happy again, not after this, but he couldn’t come to regret it. Not when your best friend was rubbing her cunt against his dick so sensuously, tempting him with her full pout and big breasts.

“She’s always been dumb,” she commented, like she wasn’t speaking about the woman she claimed to love more than anything in the world. Maybe that should have worried Chris, but for whatever reason, it just made him harder.

He really wasn’t worth shit.

“Can’t even figure out that every time we disappear at a party, I’m really just sucking your dick.” Chris chuckled as he buried his thumb on her mouth, chuckle turning into a groan as the beautiful woman twirled her tongue around his digit.

“I mean, this was how it started, wasn’t it, baby?” He reminded her. “You ditched her in the middle of the club to meet me in the bathroom and offer some help with the package I’d been hiding in my pants… Didn’t even have the time to doubt it before you were dropping to your knees and crawling towards me.”

The little vixen smirked at the memory, face suddenly lighting up as she let go of my dick to get out of bed. “Hey!” He complained, still smiling because he could see she was up to no good. “Where are you going?”

She had my phone in her hands when she climbed back to bed, a perfectly plucked eyebrow high in her forehead as she typed away in it. He’d never let you learn the password but what could he possibly hide from his mistress?

“Call her.” It wasn’t as much a request as it was a statement, since when she threw the phone on his chest, it was already ringing. A panicked look broke free on his face before he shook his head, smirking at her insanity.

Goddamn it if it didn’t make him harder than he’d ever been before.

“Hello?” Your sweet voice was the perfect dichotomy to the act he was partaking in, and he had to bite his lip so you wouldn’t figure out what was happening as your best friend leaned over his cock to take it in her mouth.

“Hey, honey,” Chris greeted, trying to keep his voice as smooth as possible. He could totally do this. He was an actor, after all.

“Is something wrong?” You questioned, and for a second both him and your friend froze, fearing you’d heard something. “You just left, I figured you wouldn’t call me until tomorrow.”

Chris chuckled lightly at your innocence - and the clear happiness you felt at him deciding to call so soon. He already knew what to say to plunge the knife even deeper into you.

“Oh, you know…” He trailed off, biting his lip again as your best friend swallowed his cock. “Just missed you.” He didn’t miss the smirk on her eyes. She didn’t need to speak or even stop sucking him for him to know that she was enjoying this, so he kept going, entertaining you with mindless conversation until you remembered you actually had to call her.

“Oh, I promised I’d call her… We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” You assured him, blissfully unaware of the betrayal you were suffering. “Bye, baby. I love you.” You disconnected the call before he could even lie about that too, but a few minutes later her phone began ringing.

She was still giggling when she picked up, now having stopped sucking him to rub her tight wet cunt against him again, teasing them both. “Bitch, you’ll never guess,” she greeted as soon as you said hello, and just as you asked what was up, she lowered herself down on Chris’ cock.

Your man’s cock. While she was talking to you. “I’m fucking someone right at this second.” He could hear your stunned silence, but you knew your friend had always been crazy - especially sexually.

It was the difference between the two of you that made him so obsessed.

“And he doesn’t mind?” You asked, clearly surprised, and Chris almost laughed when your best friend answered, “Oh, no. He gets off on it. Would you mind staying in line and listening for a bit? He’d really enjoy it.”

You hesitated only for a moment before agreeing, and that’s when she allowed herself to moan out loud. “God, what a fucking dick!” She cursed, fingernails gripping his pecks as she rode him for dear life. “I swear to god, you have no idea how it feels like to be fucked like this.”

You remained silent. Chris could almost picture it, the way you had one fingernail in your mouth, chewing on it as you tried to decide between keeping your promise and listening to your best friend fucking (your) man or leaving the phone on and going to do the laundry.

You were such a perfect girlfriend. So devoted, everything Chris should marry. His family loved you - hell, he thought he loved you. And here he was, fucking your best friend while you listened to her moans of pleasure.

He felt her eyes trailing down his body and he already knew what she wanted. They were a perfect match in bed. He manhandled her onto her stomach, knowing you were listening to her surprised scream and loud moan as he penetrated her from behind.

“So, so good…” She moaned. Chris had no doubt her eyes were rolling to the back of her head. “Would you ever stop fucking me, baby?” She teased, making Chris chuckle, knowing the sounds of his hips slapping against her full ass were drowning his voice from you. “Would you ever stop fucking my tight little pussy?”

He leaned over her, body completely enclosing hers in bed when he gripped her jaw to whisper in her ear. “Not a chance in hell.” Her delighted moan made it all worthy to him. He pulled out of her to turn her around once more, spreading her legs so he could have a taste of her pussy.

Eyes connected, he watched her reach for the phone and take it off the speaker so she could talk to you properly. “This guy eats pussy like a pro,” she informed you while Chris grinned between her legs, her fingers tangled in the strands of your boyfriend’s hair. “And he tells me it’s the best pussy he has ever had, don’t you, baby?”

Chris could only nod, obsessed with the taste of her sweet pussy on his tongue, the loud sounds of slurping undoubtedly reaching you. He could only imagine how you were feeling, confused and maybe a little bit aroused. It was like sound porn, after all - and it was starred by your very own boyfriend, but you had no idea.

He hummed against her pussy. You could never taste as sweet, try as you might. Even her painted lips tasted better, and he knew it wasn’t because of the lipstick she wore since you two often shared.

She moaned loudly when he shoved two fingers inside of her, having memorized her sweet spot ages ago, when this still made him feel bad and he’d often hurl when he got home to find you in bed, waiting for him.

And yet, he couldn’t stop. He waited for her to turn off the call so he could climb back up her body, kissing every inch of the way until he was buried deep inside her tight pussy again.

“You make me crazy,” he whispered, knowing this would never be enough. He would never get his fill of her. He might love you in one way or another, but he wanted her, and he would never let her go.

#my fics #chris evans smut #chris evans #smut #tw cheating #tw infidelity #tw betrayal

[avintagekiss24]

day with destiny | b. barnes

→ pairing: aristocrat!bucky barnes x aristocrat!black!reader

→ word count: 3000

→ warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, biting kink

→ challenge: @cockslut-padalecki​ not my ninth

trope: aristocratic society

song prompt: crush by jennifer paige

→ square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ 2021

g5: clothed sex

→ author note: i was finally able to reign myself in with these word counts, lol. i saw this gif of baby faced sebastian and couldn’t help myself. he looks like a little shit, but look at those pink lips… anyway, these are modern!aristocrats. lyrics to crush aren’t obvious (except for one line at the very end), but worked into the dialogue. i have no idea who made the gif, i got it from google. i also have no idea who made this divider, as i also got it from the google.

Blue eyes peer over at you from across the table, the gaze searing into the side of your face. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, but you don’t dare cut your eyes— this game is entirely too fun to give in now. Instead, you take a deep breath, pushing your chest out— your tits— shifting roughly in your seat just to make your flesh jiggle, before you release the air slowly.

Cabinet meetings are never fun. Rich, old white men going on and on about their views for the country— your family of course bringing the only sense of color into the society. Some old man yammers on at the front of the room behind the podium. Heads nod, claps ring out at random intervals, loud here here’s filling your ears as you roll your eyes. You don’t have the least bit of interest in any of it as it stands today, but your blue blood, and rank in the family— poised to take over for your dear old daddy in the coming years— requires your presence.

Bucky Barnes is quite the same. Young, bored, and too damn pretty for his own fucking good. You squeeze your legs together abruptly, the images of the last cabinet meeting playing back in your mind. Hot, sticky breath. Reddened, swollen lips— against your ear, sucking on your skin. The salt that exploded on your tongue as he shoved his thumb into your mouth.

You stand quick, clearing your throat— sending a silent message to the youngest Barnes at the long table. A hand grabs your wrist, stopping you as you start to move towards the back of the room, “Mother?”

“This is important, daughter,” she whispers harsh— a warning.

“And so is my bladder, mother.”

She sighs heavily, but releases the grip around your wrist, “Yours and the Barnes boy, apparently.”

Flicking your eyes quickly, you smirk as he pushes his chair underneath the table and starts towards the large doors at the back of the room, rubbing at his chin with his hand, the sunlight glinting off of the rings adorning his long fingers. You watch him as he moves— so easy, so confident— as he runs his hand through his dark, perfectly clipped hair, the Loubotins on his feet clicking softly.

You only drop your eyes when he slips through the door and out of view, “Ten minutes, mother.”

She knows. She knows that you know she knows, but she just sighs again and lets you saunter off without a second glance. Dress dragging behind you, bottom lip sucked between your teeth, heart and blood starting to race as each step draws you closer to your silver tongued foe, lying in wait for you in a random, deserted hallway.

He’s leaned against the wall, gazing out over the city beneath, hands drawn into his pockets. He’s a sight, but he always is, each little brown hair in place, chin and cheeks so clean shaven that a hair wouldn’t even dare sprout. Body lean in that black military jacket, gold medals and hand stitched ribbons hanging from the pockets.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” you smile soft, crossing your arms over your chest, leaning against the very same wall.

Bucky glances over his shoulder, that shit grin he’s such a proud owner of spreading on his face, “Then stop propositioning me.”

You laugh— it’s gentle and soft, the dissonance of your long relationship easily melting away. He finally turns and takes a few steps towards you, extending his hand, tenderly taking your fingers. Those deep, emotional eyes stay on yours as he lifts your hand, lips brushing— glancing ever so lightly over the backs of your delicate, manicured digits. Then he smiles, slow, sweet, teeth sinking into his blushed bottom lip as he blinks just as slow.

He’s a sight, this Bucky Barnes.

Keenly aware of his family’s teetering reputation, hanging on by a mere thread as of late due to his fathers extra curricular proclivities, you can’t help but take a swipe, “I’m surprised you’re family’s allowed back in the building. It got a little tense last time you all were here.”

“It did, didn’t it?” he answers quickly, placing your hand on his shoulder before he pulls you in close— a long arm wrapping your waist, pinning you to him, “I don’t remember much though, as my face was buried in your cunt for most of the meeting.”

Shivers race the length of your spine. He feels it— revels in it— savors it.

Lively brown eyes bounce back and forth between heavy, brewing blues, “You aren’t afraid that the rest of them will move to vote your family out, Lord Barnes?”

“Not in the slightest,” you’re met with a defiant shrug, “I hate this shit.”

“Oh, how original! An aristocrat that hates the god given privilege bestowed upon him.” You sigh, tilting your head towards the ceiling as he nuzzles into your neck, your hands sliding up and over his shoulders, “You’re predictable, Barnes.”

“You’re one to talk about privilege, My Lady.”

“Am I?” You retort quick, quirking an eyebrow.

A brilliant smile is cast upon you, blue irises like gems, sparkling under the light, “Your blood is the richest in the room— the bluest of blue— and you speak with such animosity of mine as if you haven’t prevailed your entire life because of it.”

“Bested by the color of our skin, which has precluded my lineage of its rightful place for years,” you scoff, leaning into him, “It was not privilege that got us here, Lord Barnes,” you whisper, “It was persistence.”

He chuckles against your skin, the vibrations rattling through your body, right to your bones. Hot velvet slips along the curve of the junction between your shoulder and neck before teeth scrape and then sink— tenderly— right into the meat, making you gasp. Hands grip, fingers dig into his opposite shoulder as he nips and nibbles.

“You’ll lose everything,” you breathe, heavy, languid as his mouth, his tongue, his lips move to your jaw, your chin, “Your family will be ruined.”

“I’ll be okay,” Bucky hums low, a smile on his face, dark eyelashes splashed over his pink tinged cheeks. His long fingers play with your lips, prodding gently as he rests his forehead to yours, “With a face like mine baby,” he whispers, that devilish smile painting his red tinted lips, “I was born to marry rich.”

He pushes his leg between yours, spreading them, pushing the meat of his thigh right against your sex— the thin silk of your panties sticking to the balmy, wet flesh. The tips of his fingers flirting with the inside of your calf before pushing up over your knee, skirting up your own ticklish thigh.

Bucky takes pleasure in the honeyed giggle that bubbles in your chest and slips out of your mouth, knowing not just anyone can coax such a genuine reaction from you. Metal fingers push higher— sweeping softly, back and forth, over the powder pink silk panties, discovering the warm wet spot, a white hot fire filling his eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

You grunt some, leaning in, putting full lips right against his ear, “Absolutely not,” the words whispered.

“You sure?” he squints, drawing your face back in front of his, thumbing at your bottom lip, pulling it open, “There’s something in those eyes.”

“Let’s not over analyze, Lord Barnes,” you tisk, slipping a hand between your bodies, cupping his cock— squeezing his heat— with care of course, “Don’t go too deep with it. It’s just—”

“What?” brisk, curt— the words cut off by a feverish, deep kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth, sweeping against the roof— heavy, hot, rushed, desperate for you as he groans, “What is it?”

You pull at his belt, at the button and zipper, hand and fingers sinking into his open pants, pushing through a rough, dark, tuft of wiry hair. He whirrs, strained and broken, body clenching up as your warm palm wraps around him. Long, slow strokes pull more tiny sounds from him— a skilled muscle memory, what he likes, what he doesn’t, what he needs— taking over.

A sweet kiss, soft and quick, is pressed against his cheek, your lips against his ear once more, “It’s just a little crush, Bucky. Just some little thing that raises my adrenaline when I need a shot.” His cock jumps in your hand, a quick hiss and stunted grunt filling your ears as you lick your lips, “Don’t make too much of it.”

Bucky grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks hard, puckering your lips before he kisses you feverishly again. The cool metal digits grab your neck, a soft pressure constricting the muscles as he pushes you back, back against the window— using his body to crush you to it.

The smack of his lips disconnecting from yours ricochets off the walls, filling the small hallway. He licks your lips, dragging his tongue from your chin right to the tip of your nose as he anchors your leg on his hip. Hot flesh fingers slip up your thigh, pulling your panties to the side, the cool air sending a shock to the wet, delicate flesh of you. He sucks that bottom lip back between his perfect teeth, tilting his head back slightly to peer at you through those long, dark eyelashes.

You mimic him. Tilt your head back on the glass, sink your teeth into your swollen lip, hand still stroking him slow, wetting the pads of your fingers with his silk. His hips rock soft into your palm as you sweep your fingers over his tip before dragging back down his length, gripping him firm. With a quick blink, you’re staring at him— angry, thick, throbbing in your hand. A bead bubbles out, spills right over, a long string hanging from his reddened tip before his cock twitches again— leaving you breathless. Knees almost buckling. Mouth going dry as your lungs struggle to fill.

“Come on, baby,” Bucky purrs, goading you as you push his cock through your folds, rolling your hips, teasing your waiting slit with his tip.

Surprise sweeps through you when frankly, it shouldn’t as you sink down on him. The muscle memory of your hands don’t translate to the muscles of your cunt— his size, how much you have to spread to accommodate him, like a revelation each and every time. Bucky almost never rushes it, and neither do you, like it’s something new every time.

But it isn’t, no no, it’s ancient for the two of you. Connecting like this in long, skinny hallways, cramped closets, old hotel rooms under the mask of darkness. The muffled sounds of your sex as you try and ultimately fail to keep quiet, filling the abandoned spaces— bringing life to them again.

Loneliness often fills your chest if you go too long without it.

Bucky is buried to the hilt in you now— rooted deep in the tightest, hottest space of your body. He takes a minute, pushing his hips, wiggling— adjusting— before he pulls out slow. All the way, cock bouncing as soon as it breaks the threshold. He doesn’t wait long though. Nope. He’s back inside of you within seconds with a slam of his hips, pushing you up the window. Pulling a squeak and a rush of air from you.

Those red lips of his part, his heavy tongue pushing out to slip along his bottom lip as his eyelids drop, covering the blue you’ve come to enjoy. You can’t help but reach out, place your warm palms and fingers on his blushed cheeks, tracing his nose before they prod at his bottom lip, the tips just sinking into that wet mouth. He draws long breaths, exhales them all over your face as he starts to move.

You let the rhythm carry you away. Up into the clouds as your head rolls to the side, hands fall to his chest and around his neck. Tits bounce with each shove, starting to spill over and fall out of the square shaped neckline of your intricate dress. Hair starts to fall out of place, heat rises in your cheeks, desperate little wet noises beseeching him.

Bucky’s a good fuck. Ever the playboy, never thinking twice of an encounter until— well, you, as he so softly put it one night in one of those dark, old hotel rooms while you both dressed. There’s a filth to it. The way he toys with you. Speeding up suddenly— skin slapping, echoing down the hall— and then, without warning or hesitation, slows down. Down to nothing almost. Soft pulses of his hips, just enough to drive you mad. To make you beg him for more.

To make you weak. To keep you coming back.

That’s how he is now. Barely moving, wanting you to squirm. Two big eyes, pupils blown stare up at you. Mouth agape, the smallest little curve on them. He wants you to beg. To tell him just how much— “Bucky,”

“Yes?” he shoves hard, pushing deep, “My Lady?”

“Please,” there it is, the beg— the want, “Please, Bucky.”

So, the filth is back. Yeah, it’s a little dirty how he grips your thigh, hard, nails digging and scratching into the meat of it. How he licks into your mouth and bites your lips before shoving that metal hand into your neckline, palming the delicate mound of flesh beneath. A brown nipple is soon exposed, tight and hard, after a quick tug of his hand yanks your dress down. It disappears again within a flash, right into his mouth, tongue circling.

An arch curves your spine when he sucks, a deep, low, stressed grunt sounding from somewhere deep in your chest. Your lips pucker, forming an o as you breathe heavy, then gasp quick before digging your teeth into your bottom lip and inhaling sharp. An already tight grip on his bicep and left shoulder constricts even more as he really picks up the pace, desperate and feverish his hips, tongue slipping into your cleavage.

There’s nothing but sounds and sensations— the squelch and squeak of his cock stuffing you, your stiletto slipping off the foot that’s hooked around his waist and thudding against the floor. The gold medals pinned to his military jacket bouncing soft against the thick material. His metal fingers tapping against the windows as he holds his weight.

Flashes of heat ripple through your body— muscles tensing and straining, cunt clenching, clamping. Fists balling. Stomach and head twirling as he gives you his best. And God, do you appreciate his effort.

The fuse proves to be short on this crisp winter day. A coil that had no chance of staying intact snaps earlier than you expect, body tightening hard, nearly freezing you in place the second before you start to come. Crying out— no shame, no sense of care if anyone hears— you just let it take over. Let him drive it home, hips snapping against yours, jutting, thrusting, pushing and pulling, sending you higher and higher.

Goosebumps on your skin. Heartbeat in your ears. A white hot flash, nearly blinding— it’s just that good. Metal fingers sink between your legs, playing with your clit, enticing it further as it spasms— wanting to feel every last bit of what your body has to offer.

Bucky hammers away, until he can’t. You’re just too sweet— too warm and wet and inviting. He’s painting your insides white within minutes, hot, quick shots of silk, filling you up, and then spilling back out. His head falls heavy to your chest as the last digs of his hips work themselves out, lips sticking to your damp, exposed skin.

You wrap him up, hands and fingers splaying out on his back, holding him tight and close as he empties and stills. Then, the two of you just breathe. Let the day, the room full of people, your families, your duties, just fade away. It’s just you and Bucky and that cool window against your overly warm skin.

It breaks— the moment. Just as it always does. Your body becomes empty as he tucks back into his pants. No longer pinned to the window, you bend to replace your shoe, pull at your dress. Bucky runs his thick fingers through his dark hair, you picking and smoothing at your own.

Stepping off after a few sobering moments without so much as a look or a smile, you're caught, a tight hand around your wrist, pulling you back. You crash into his chest, crash against his lips in one last, deep, sweeping kiss. One that once he pulls away, your eyes stay closed, lips stay puckered.

“You sure you won’t marry me?”

You know that if he asks one more time, your resolve will fizzle— and you will, “Very sure.”

A lopsided grin covers his mouth as he tilts his head, “Just a pesky little crush, huh?”

“There’s no vision of you and me quite yet, Lord Barnes,” you sigh, turning away and stepping  down the hall, “You just pray that I don’t decide to join the rest of the party and vote you out.”

“Make sure you keep a copy of your vote for me. I’ll want to frame it.”

You throw him a quick glance, “And why would you do something like that?”

“So I can show our children just how mean mommy was to daddy before we got married,” he starts, buttoning up his jacket. He kisses the pads of his fingers and blows on them lightly, sending you a kiss, “I have white picket fences in my eyes.”

Without another word, he spins on his heel and takes off in the opposite direction. A hum vibrates in your throat. The sounds of your heels and his shoes slap against the walls as the two of you walk away from each other.

It doesn’t take a scientist to understand what’s going on, baby.

#notmyninth #ssb2021 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes x you #reader x bucky barnes #you x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black reader #you x bucky #bucky x you #bucky reader #reader x bucky #avintagekiss24

[firefly-in-darkness]

Life on Hold

Pairing → Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters → Marvel Characters

Summary → Y/N is pulled out of retirement by Fury, and Bucky is the one to break the news.

Word Count → 2.8k

Prompt → ‘You must be out of your goddamn mind’ for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ Hamilfilm Lyric Challenge 

SSB2021 Square Fill → ‘Where’s the fight?’ - @star-spangled-bingo

Warnings → 18+. Fluff, Angst, Smut. Swearing.

Betas → @daydream3r-xo​ & @fandomfic-galore​ // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This is my first time taking part in a bingo card and what better way to kick it off than with our boy Bucky and the trifecta of angst, fluff & smut! Hope you enjoy - comments & reblogs are always adored!

Firefly’s Masterlist // Star Spangled Bingo 2021

Fury entered the conference room at Stark Tower with his usually authoritative, no bullshit attitude and the black leather jacket flowing behind him. The Avengers immediately halted their actions; Natasha and Clint gave each other a knowing side-eye, Bucky and Steve placed down their coffees while Wanda, Vision and Bruce stopped their conversation, mid-flow, to turn their attentions to the director.

“Where’s Stark?” Fury looked around for the billionaire, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A voice came through the speakers, “I’m here. Just not here, here.”

Fury turned to the camera in the corner, “Stark, I suggest you get in here now.”

“No can do boss, I’m a little tied up doing good for the community at the moment.” The Iron Man suit’s HUD display appeared in the centre of the room above the table with Stark’s signature smirk, “I’m listening.”

The holographic display changed with the flick of Fury’s hand; Stark’s face appearing in the top right corner while the other information appeared larger. A selection of blueprints for a fortified base, images of various Hydra agents and satellite footage of the surrounding area. Steve flicked through the same information on the tablet in his lap while the rest of the team continued to look at display or Fury for further instruction.

“As you can see, we have collected a lot of information about this particular base. The only problem is that we are struggling to infiltrate it. Our agents have explored every possible way to get inside but it’s becoming more obvious that whatever is happening inside that warehouse is something for the Avengers to deal with.” Fury continued as he walked around the room, hands behind his back.

“What attempts have been made?” Steve asked, the stern tone of Captain America coming through.

The Avengers watched the footage that enlarged in front of Nick Fury; a group of agents moving as one through the dense snow-covered forest until they were repelled back twenty feet.

“That’s the issue. We’ve tried to go through it, over it and under it. We can’t get in so I need the best on this,” Fury pointed at the repeated clip of the soldiers being hit with the force field, “Romanoff, Barton; get reading up on those reports, see if you can find anything that stands out. Maximoff and Vision, start looking into what that force field is and whether you remember it from your Strucker days. Stark, I need you back here for the final briefing by 1800 hours.”

The four Avengers nodded at the director and left the room. Stark disconnected and the hologram disappeared. Bucky remained silent, watching Fury’s every move while Steve reclined in the chair, spinning it towards the director.

“And what about us Sir?” Steve asked, his body tense and irritation not going unnoticed by the remaining attendees.

“I said I needed my best.” Fury pressed his hands against the back of a vacant seat, looking straight to Bucky. “There’s only one person that can help us with this one.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened and he barked in response, “No!”

“He’s right, Buck.” Steve turned to him with a small smile, “we’re going to need all the help we can get. Who knows what’s going on down there?”

“You must be out of your goddamn mind.” Bucky pushed the chair back forcefully and walked to the door, yanking it open. He paused looking back at Steve and Fury, “and I guess, I’m going to be the one to break the news, aren’t I?”

The bell above the door chimed as Bucky entered the florist; he was hit with a multitude of colours and smells that were incredible but the one thing that stood out most to him was the woman tucked between sunflowers and dahlias with an older gentleman. His heart raced at Y/N’s beaming smile as she gathered up the flowers and rang up the cost on the register.

Bucky preoccupied himself with the assortment of blooms and the trinkets scattered around the small shop while she continued to chat with the gentleman, he tried not to listen in to the conversation, but he had to gauge her mood before he approached her, not that she didn’t already know he was there.

“Mr Lee, you cannot make those eyes at me when you’re buying flowers for your wife!” Y/N laughed, “send her my best and that I’ll see her on Sunday for the bake sale.”

“You’ll realise that I’m the one for you sooner or later.” The man waved and passed Bucky, leaving the shop with another jingle of the bell.

Bucky had watched the man leave as he thought of how impressed he was with the way Y/N had settled into this town after a few months. He’d always been impressed with the woman that had managed to retire and find her feet so seamlessly. 

Without turning around, Bucky knew that she was now behind him and her hands would be placed on her hips, a sideways pout on her lips as she waited for him to pay her attention.

“Seeing as we only saw each other on Thursday, Buck, and if someone had died, you’d have called, what could you possibly need on this wonderful Sunday afternoon? Did you miss me that much?” She giggled but then she saw the seriousness in his face once he’d turned around. “Shop closes in an hour; I’ll be up in a bit.”

Bucky felt guilty for dimming the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, she was silent with a blank expression as she unlocked the door leading to her apartment. He’d never experienced the receiving end of the anger that was smothering the atmosphere. Of course, he’d witnessed it aimed at others but never at this level towards himself. 

Y/N kicked off her trainers and untied her apron, slamming it down on the kitchen table. Her fingers clenched around the fabric, and her jaw ticked before she turned to Bucky. He leaned against the door frame and explained how she needed to come out of retirement for a mission, giving her the details about the force field that the SHIELD agents were unable to penetrate.

Bucky waited for Y/N to speak, he learnt long ago that he had to leave her to process whatever it was that was racing through her mind. Y/N had her back to him, one hand gripping the counter and the other holding tightly onto the knife that she’d retrieved to chop vegetables. She turned around and opened her mouth, only for no words to come out and for her to continue preparing dinner. 

The pain and fear that flicked across her features were motivation enough for Bucky to get closer, he strode over and placed his hands on her hips. He felt the tension drop from her body at his touch, a sense of pride swelled as she leant her back into his chest.

“It’s been 113 days since I left. You can’t come here and ask this of me.” Y/N’s voice cracked, and her eyes glossed over as she waved the knife around in front of her, the peppers no longer being diced. 

Bucky’s fingers held her wrist to stop the kitchen utensil from turning into a weapon and rest his chin on her shoulder, “I know doll, but you know why I was sent and not Steve or Fury himself.”

“Yeah, ‘cos they know y’all sweet talk me ‘round.” She scoffed and dropped the knife down with a clatter, turning in his arms to look at him. Her arms wrapped around his neck and fingers threaded through the loose strands while a smirk crept up her face, “and they knew that I wouldn’t castrate you either.”

Bucky chuckled and nudged his nose against hers before their lips lightly brushed one another, a soft peck and Y/N unravelled and continued with prepping the food. Stirring the partly prepared sauce heating on the stove, Bucky watched her form soften but he knew that it would be short-lived.

“Where’s the fight?” She whispered, as if she already knew but didn’t want to believe it.

“Poland.” He slipped back and took a seat at the kitchen table, knowing that she would turn around in an instant with another burst of anger. 

And as if on cue, Y/N threw a tomato at the wall to her left, the juices staining the neutral paint as it slid down. She whirled around and pointed the wooden spoon at him, “I can’t believe those jerks! They don’t even have the balls to talk to me themselves and instead, they send my lovely, innocent and ridiculously handsome boyfriend to woo me into returning to the field.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call myself innocent.” Bucky tried to lighten the mood, but it had the opposite effect.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Y/N paced the length of the kitchen in a few steps before spinning around and walking back again. Defeated with the inevitable of visiting the country she grew up in, she collapsed on Bucky’s lap. “What about my shop? Do they not realise that I have a business to run? I’m not an Avenger, I'm just an ordinary civilian.”

“You’re everything but ordinary.” His arms pulled Y/N closer to him, her head burrowing under his chin, “It’s okay sweetheart, Diane can run the place in your absence, she knows what she’s doing. We’ll be gone a week at most. I made sure to get a month of vacation off afterwards so we can do this place up.”

Y/N’s head snapped up, bashing Bucky’s chin making him bite the inside of his cheek. The blood filled his mouth, but he swallowed it down and cupped her face at the sight of the unshed tears in her eyes.

“Really? Do you mean that? Because being with you for one night every two weeks is horrible.” Her bottom lip poked out and Bucky wobbled it with his index finger.

“Yes, of course, doll.” He smiled and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

“Hold up!” Y/N pulled away from him, her hands pressed firmly into his chest, “you’re sweet talkin’ me, aren’t you?”

“Nothing gets past you.” Bucky’s head fell back as the laughter rumbled through his chest and Y/N stood up. He swatted her butt cheek, “get a move on with dinner, we have to leave in an hour.”

“James Buchanan Barnes!” She spun around, a feigned look of shock and her hand clutched to her chest. Her agape mouth dropped into a smirk as she leant forward, rubbing her nose against his. “If you’re still into this sweet talkin’ thing…” 

Y/N spun on her heel and with a sway of her hips, wandered to the door. She looked back over her shoulder, “well, are you coming or what?”

Bucky was on his feet in seconds, chasing her down the corridor. Giggles filled the apartment as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into the air. He fell backwards onto the bed, dropping her to his side gracefully. 

Both looked at the other, full of smiles and breathless from the short jog. The contrast of cold metal against Y/N’s warm cheek sent a shiver down her spine, and the way Bucky focused on her lips filled her core with want. The laughter died down and desire took over, as their faces inched closer and until they were ghosting over each other’s lips.

“Thought I had to sweet talk you, doll?” Bucky mumbled against Y/N’s parted mouth; his beard scratched deliciously against her.

In retaliation, she pushed on top of him, straddling his waist and feeling the rough texture of the tactical gear hidden beneath the hoodie, “well, what can I see, could never resist a man in Kevlar.”

Y/N ducked down and pressed a light peck to Bucky’s lips. He immediately took control, his hand holding the back of her head and deepening the kiss while his hardening groin rubbed against her clothed sex.

All thoughts of the mission and Poland disappeared with each item of clothing they discarded. Their minds focused on bringing the other to the edge of ecstasy with every kiss, lick, and stroke. Their bodies hummed with desire and need, entangled together above the sheets.

Bucky pinned Y/N to the bed, holding her hands above her head in his grip while he peppered kisses down her neck, and across her now beautifully exposed body. His hold loosened as he neared her sensitive parts, the mewling sounds above him sent repeated shocks of pleasure to his already stiff member.

Y/N couldn’t handle the wait any longer, her hips tilting up towards in demand of his mouth. It was oh so close but still far away from her bundle of nerves, “please Bucky, I need you.”

Not one to disappoint or let his girl beg for too long, Bucky teased her drenched cunt with his fingertips. She whimpered in response, pride swelled in his chest and pushed him to lick a stripe through her lips, tongue swirling over her clit.

“Fuck” Y/N stuttered out; one hand tugged on his locks while the other palmed her breasts.

Bucky moaned, the vibrations pushing Y/N closer to her orgasm. He continued to eat her cunt with ferocity. Bucky always marvelled at how he’d almost cum from the sounds of her moans and the taste of her pleasure. His cock ached as he rubbed the precum across his tip and gripped his shaft to hold off his orgasm until he felt the friction of her tight cunt, until he was deep inside her.

Kisses lightly pressed along her thighs and her stomach; Bucky didn’t miss a single spot, blemish or scar on her body. Her body glowed in the post-orgasmic haze, her fingers softly stroking through his locks as he hovered above her.

Bucky faltered when he saw her eyes glistened with unshed tears and the tremble of her lip, “Doll, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“Oh, sweet man,” Y/N cupped his cheek, his head resting into her palm, “of course not. I’m just scared of going back. Of losing myself to my past. Of losing you.”

Bucky let go of the breath he held, a small piece of him was glad that he hadn’t done anything to hurt the precious person lying beneath him but the rest of him filled with the need to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay. And that is what he did.

He rolled to her side, gathered her up in his hold and pressed soft kisses to the top of her head, “I can’t promise that it won’t be hard. Going back there, to those monsters. But I can promise you that you won’t lose me. I’ll be with you every step of the way, like you have been there for me.”

Y/N clung to Bucky’s waist; her legs entwined with his while she let the tears flow. Her fear subsided with each drop, the caress of Bucky’s fingers along her arm and the sweet nothings he whispered into her ear.

Y/N packed her bag while Bucky returned to the kitchen to fix her something to eat. Even though he had developed incredible hearing, he couldn’t make out the Ukrainian words that she mumbled in between ‘Steve’ and ‘Fury’ or the slams of the bedroom furniture. But what he did know was that they weren’t going to be any terms of endearment to her former superiors.

Minutes later, Y/N had returned with an outfit change and dropped the holdall to her feet. Bucky’s heart thumped against his chest and a blush heated his cheeks as she winked at him. Even after all this time, seeing her in the black uniform always sent his heart racing and Y/N knew exactly how he felt about the uniform.

They ate the meal in silence as Y/N scanned the details on the tablet, both now brought up to speed with the latest developments from Natasha’s intel; alien technology being sold across the black market. What’s new. Bucky rolled his eyes at the information, there was always some bad guy with a bunch of weaponry, that they didn’t understand, trying to use it for evil.

Once again, Y/N disappeared into other parts of the apartment while Bucky loaded his black truck with her holdall and waited for her arrival in the cab. She hopped into the passenger seat and appeared calm, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he should prepare to duck for cover when they arrived at the briefing room.

Luckily for Bucky, Natasha and Clint pulled him aside to go over their new findings. Not so lucky for Steve and Fury, who would have to deal with the wrath of the retired Avenger.

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#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Star's Hamilfilm Lyric Challenge #SSB2021 #Bucky Barnes Fic #Bucky Barnes #Sexy times

[writingsbychlo]

white christmas | thomas

word count; 16,567

summary; after some unexpected snow ruins your christmas day plans, you spend your first christmas as a married couple making it up as you go along.

notes; this is a follow up (and the final part to!) ‘Sin City’ and ‘Sun City’. I was actually originally going to call this ‘Snow City’ but I wasn’t sure how that would go down. anyways, go enjoy.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, cum play, breeding kink

When you woke up, it was to the sound of the coffee machine whirring slowly in the kitchen, and you rolled over, patting at the spot next to you, and pouting when it came up empty. The sheets were still warm to the touch, and you sighed, cracking an eye open to look at the place. The bedding was still crumpled, tucked back up and over you, and there was a barely visible sliver of light creeping in from the crack in the curtains, lighting up the room.

The alarm clock read just after ten, a sleep in for the both of you, but you deserved it on Christmas Day, and you smiled, the joy of the day washing over you once again. It was cold, unusually so for Vegas, and a chill ran over you as you sat up. Your legs were bare beneath the covers stretched out and staying warm, but the tank top on your upper body did little to warm you now that your human furnace of a husband had left you.

When you finally found the motivation to move, it was only to find a cardigan, tugging it over your arms and rolling the knitted sleeves up and out of your way to sit at your mid-forearms, and searching for a pair of pants. A plaid pair of sleep pants that belonged to your lover, tying them at the waist nice and loose as they sat over your stomach, just enough to be comfy, before you were trailing through the house. He was facing the counter, scrolling through his phone and chewing on a piece of a granola bar idly, the machine still dripping coffee through slowly.

He scarcely even flinched as you made your presence known, your arms slipping around his waist and face pressing between his shoulder blades as you left a kiss to the material of his shirt covering his back, before pressing your cheek over the patch. His free hand came down to settle over your own, squeezing lightly, and humming as he acknowledged you.

“Mornin’, baby.”

“Merry Christmas.” You teased, a sweet chuckle leaving him, before he was putting his phone down, and twisting in your arms to see you instead. Cupping your face, he leaned down, pressing a sweet hiss to your lips, and you licked the slightly sticky residue of honey away when he pulled back, the faint traces of his pre-breakfast snack still lingering on his mouth.

“Merry Christmas to you, too.”

You only nodded, bumping the tip of your nose against his needily, and he caught the hint, laughing lightly and letting his breath wash over your face as his lips brushed yours. “More? What, all the love and affection you got last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Yesterday was a completely different day. I haven’t had nearly my quota for kisses yet today.”

“Well, guess I can’t argue with that logic.” His words were mumbled, thumbs smoothing over your cheeks, before dipping down to catch your lips with his own, a slow and lazy kiss that was perfect for the mood. You didn’t need much, and you were past the thrill of overexcited Christmas mornings, you weren’t a child anymore, and one day, your house would be filled with kids of your own, to have those over-excited Christmas mornings again, so you were simply soaking up the bliss of a quiet and hazy one with your husband now.

His tongue teased along your lower lip, pressing lightly at the seam in which they connected, prompting you to part them for him, and you were more than happy to grant him that access. He fell backwards when your hands disconnected from around his waist, smoothing up his back and around his body, until one was sitting on his chest, the other weaving into his hair. His back pressed to the counter, supporting you as you leant up on him, sighing against his mouth.

A breathy groan sounded in the air, deep from him as it originated in the back of his throat, vibrating through you in a way that made you tremble a little under his touch. Your head tipped to the side, a raspy breath taken in before letting him dive back into you once again, your heart racing in your chest and the tips of his fingers dug a little harder into your jaw. You loved knowing you still had this kind of effect on him, and that he had this effect on you, even after being married and having been together for so long, and you truly hoped that the passion between you both never dulled.

When the machine beside you beeped to signal the end of its rotation, he finally pulled away, lips shining and red, the hints of beginning to swell, and he ran the pad of a thumb over your own, before he was pressing back into you, stealing a series of small kisses again, dipping you backwards, until you were out of breath but laughing, cheeks flushing as the need to breathe overwhelmed you, but the way his teeth were scraping lightly at your lower lip was far more intoxicating.

He was beaming when he pulled away, bringing you in close to him again, a hand dropping down to sit on your lower back, pulling you into his body, and letting him spin you both around, so that he could reach for the coffeemaker with the other. He poured two mugs, adjusting the sugar and creamer for you both while never letting you go, holding you close, even when you leaned away for utensils and condiments, working together, a laugh on your lips at the overly wet kiss he pressed to your cheek.

His declaration of love may not have been verbal, but it was clear in everything he did, from the littlest touches to the way he held you close, and the way he made easy gestures such as coffee in the morning or tucking the sheets back over you to keep you warm when he left the bed, endearment in every action he took.

“What are we going to do about today, hm?”

He sipped his drink after asking the question, staring at you pointedly, and your brows furrowed, pausing as you lifted your own hot drink into your hands, and frowning. “We’re going to Newt’s, he’s having everyone over for Christmas, and this is the first year that we can kiss under the mistletoe and exchange gifts without pretending to just be half-friends and half-colleagues, tight smiles and seemingly forced hugs when really, I just want to kiss you senseless and wipe the foam away from the edge of your mouth when you get cream on your lip every single time we have hot chocolate.”

“Oddly specific, have you been daydreaming a lot?” He teased, your cheeks flaring up with heat as you shot him a false glare, but he only grinned, before pouting, and tapping at his lips for a kiss. You hesitated, for only a moment, that second being long enough for punishment, before you leaned up and kissed him sweetly. He seemed satisfied with it, but his original question was still ringing in your mind, and he seemed to pick up on that too, being able to read you like a book at this point; “Go look outside the window, honey.”

He tipped his head towards the tipped up blinds, and you padded over, pulling one down and peeping out, gasping a little in shock at the thin blanket of white that was covering the garden, and the roofs of the other houses, the roads undisturbed as nobody had yet dared to drive along them.

“It’s bad luck, I guess.”

“It’s not that bad, right?” You turned back to him, the realisation of just why it was that it had been quite so cold this morning coming through, and you rubbed at your arms a little, wrapping your cardigan around yourself a little tighter. “What, it's like, two or three inches? We can handle that!”

“Yeah, but, it was a bit rainy yesterday, and the temperatures dipped under during night, so it froze over. There’s going to be hidden ice on the roads, and I’m not used to driving in snow. I don’t want to risk it, baby.” You frowned, staring up at him with wide eyes as you stopped before him, and he ran a hand over your cheek, kissing the other side, but it did little to raise your low spirits. “Not when I’d have such precious cargo on board.”

“I’m not precious cargo.” You grouched, and he chuckled.

“You’re the most precious cargo to me.” He denied, and your arms crossed over your stomach, rolling on the balls of your feet as he turned away, making his way over to the fridge. It was somewhat empty, only a large bowl of mashed potatoes that would have served fifteen people being what you were supposed to be taking, and yet you still had no idea what you would whip up for your breakfast or dinner, but you supposed you’d make it work. “Anyway, Minho just texted and said he and Brenda aren’t going to make it either, and Newt’s boyfriend can’t get over from his parents who he stayed with last night, so we figured we could just video chat, or something, instead.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He turned around to face you at the sound of disappointment in your voice, growing a little at the dismayed look on your face, and he closed the refrigerator door, leaning against it and crossing his arms. “Hey, c’mon, cheer up. Maybe it’ll be nice to have our first Christmas as a married couple to ourselves. Didn’t you say you wished we’d have a white Christmas?”

“Yeah, but I was excited to see our friends.”

“We’ll make it work, angel, don’t worry.” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms, tempting you to let go of the tense distress you were holding, and it worked, your shoulders slumping as you gave in, offering him a smile when he cheered lightly at feeling you melt a little under his persuasion. “Want me to warm you up, sweetheart?”

A scoff left you, and you shoved at his chest, letting him snicker as you walked away, flipping him off a little over your shoulder, and moving back to the bedroom to get your phone. There were notifications from the girls, and your family, all wishing you a ‘Merry Christmas’ and good thoughts, and you returned it to them as you walked back through, straightening the bedsheets back out and opening the curtains before you did.

When you returned to the kitchen, the sweet smell of fruit and pancakes filled the air, a batter being whipped up by the man you loved, and you hopped up to sit on the kitchen island in the centre of the room. You were just beginning to open your emails when your phone lit up with a call, and you jumped slightly, before answering it, cheering a little as you greeted your friend.

“Hey, Newt! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you as well, love. Tommy, too, is he there?”

“Yeah, he’s here, standing right in front of me at the stove.” You reached a foot out, tapping at his ass with your toes and giggling as he jumped, turning to glare at you for the action, red tinging his cheeks, before he was slapping your foot away gently. “Sorry we can’t see you today, who would’ve guessed we’d get snow in Vegas, huh?”

“Maybe it’s because of your wish for a ‘white Christmas’, you jinxed it.” Your husband taunted, reaching for a pan, and you scowled at him, rolling your eyes fondly, and you could hear your friend laughing down the line of the phone as he listened in.

“You two have always bickered like a married couple, and we always wondered why. Now you really are a married couple, and it’s still the biggest reveal of the century.”

“What can I say? Keeping you lot in the dark made it all the more fun for us. The sneaking around was hot.” Thomas cheered loudly at your words, heating up some butter over the flame, and beginning to cook your breakfast, Newt gagging falsely into the speaker.

“I didn’t need to know what kinky shit the two of you use to keep your relationship alive, thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah. If that’s not what you wanted, then why did you call, huh?” You leaned over again, poking at your husband with your foot, and he reached down, a hand wrapping around your ankle, thumb smoothing over your skin, and he held onto you lightly, using his other hand to flip the pancakes over to let the other side begin to cook.

“Just wanted to check if four was a good time for you both, that’s when everyone else can get online. Some of us have familial commitments and such, not just fucking like weirdly-secretive bunnies to fill the schedule, so we figured it’d work for you, too?”

“Hey, Tommy, four works for us, right?” He held up his other hand in a thumbs up, before piling pancakes up on a plate, and letting go of your leg, allowing it to fall back to swinging under the counter, and beginning to fill the pan up again. “Yeah, four o’clock works for us.”

“Great, see you then, love.”

“Bye, Newt.”

The line went dead, and you placed it down, laughing a little to yourself once again over his comment, and Thomas offered you a smile over his shoulder.

As the pancakes were finished, he created a pile of them on a plate, before bringing them over and placing them on the counter beside your legs, blueberries shining through within them, steam rising up from the plate, a knife and fork following, and he grabbed the whipped cream from the fridge, shaking it up.

“Feelin’ a little more cheery now, angel?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Like, a seven out of ten.” You sighed, picking up the cutlery, and he stuck his lower lip out in false sympathy.

“Only a seven? We gotta’ fix that.” He nudged the plate closer to you, a dollop of cream sprayed onto the plate beside the heap, and your stomach grumbled happily at the sight of the meal before you. “Eat your pancakes, sweetheart.”

“What about you?”

“I already know what I’m gonna’ eat.” He winked, a lazy drop of one eyelid, before he was filling his mouth with the whipped treat and leaning in to place a messy kiss to your lips, the taste of the sweet and creamy condiment spreading to your mouth as your groaned, feeling rough hands slide up your thighs and squeeze roughly. His hands were tugging at the ends of your shirt, your cutlery clattering back to the counter to shuck off your cardigan, before he was pushing your top up and over your head, breasts falling free and nipples pearling in the cold air. “Let me warm you up, honey, make it all better.”

You could only nod, back arching into his touch when you felt the nozzle of the canister run down between your tits, before crying out when the chilled dessert was sprayed in a swirl over one of your nipples. He repeated the action on the other to match, before a line was moving along your chest, right to your navel, and you lay back on the counter, head hanging over the other side.

“You look so sweet, baby, and I know just how good you taste, can’t wait to get my mouth on you.” Two fingers pressed to your core through the plaid pants you wore, rubbing softly and you keened up into his touch. A hot mouth descended to your neck as his fingers worked slowly, kissing lightly along your neck, drags of his teeth to make you shiver, and he sucked roughly at your collarbones in a way that made you shake. He knew all of your weak spots, and all of the pieces that made you weak, having learned your body like the back of his own hand, experience over years of patience and testing, and when he finally moved down to your chest, you knew there would be marks all along your skin come tomorrow, showing up in dark bruises that matched his mouth perfectly.

He bit down, just enough force to make you cry out his name, on the side of your breast and licking it to soothe it, before his mouth was closing over one perky nipple.

The topping there was lapped away, tongue dragging in deliberately slow and teasing motions, your head spinning at the feeling of the bud being rolled along his tongue, nibbled on slightly until the skin was raw in a delicious way that always made everything feel ten times better, beginning to grow sensitive under the attention he gave to you, before he switched to give the other the same treatment. Your hand laced into his hair, holding him to your chest, a groan leaving him as your nails scratched over his scalp, the feeling vibrating along every nerve in your body until your fingertips were tingling, toes curling from where your legs dangled.

“Tommy..”

“God, I love the way you sound when you moan my name. So fuckin’ hot.” His words were a little slurred, his own arousal seeping through, and he was cleaning your skin of the cream he’s left there, licking his way down along your body until you were no longer coated in the substance, and he was sinking to his knees, fingers hooked into the band of your pyjamas and you could barely lift your hips up to help him, body trembling with need and desire, and he tugged them away, discarding them to the floor, along with your panties. “Pretty little pussy, dripping for me, so perfect.”

Kisses along your inner thighs, and you whined out, legs being lifted up to rest over his shoulder, ankles loving behind his neck, and for a moment, heat simply washed over your centre from his panted breaths, before he was indulging himself in your sodden core.

A loud cry, bouncing off of all the walls in the kitchen was emitted from you as you felt the tip of his tongue parted your folds, teasing around your entrance before flattening along your middle. He took his time, cleaning you of everything that you had to give, juices dripping out of your more and more, the longer he teased you and waited, and you could already feel yourself finding it harder to breathe, white-hot heat scorching along your body as he treasured you, devouring you like his final meal.

There were times when Thomas was quick and rough, sucking and biting at your clit with just enough pain to make you cry and scream in all the best ways, before fucking you with his tongue until you were shaking and no longer sentient, but then there were times like today.

These were the moments when he really took his time, tongue swirling along you, dragging around your clit until it was throbbing, tears lining your eyes from desperation, before is lips were brushing over the bead, enough to make a jerky motion journey along your entire body as you reacted to that simplest and lightest of touches with so much need.

“Oh, fuck, please, Tommy..”

“Want my mouth, huh, baby? Look at you, all whiny and desperate. Love it when you’re like this, needy for what only I can give you.” He gave into you when another pleading noise roe up from your throat and into the air, thumbs smoothing up along your thighs to part your folds, revealing the little bud to him entirely, and he dragged the roughness of his tongue over it slowly, broken gasps leaving you as your body spasmed a little, the stimulation so welcome and craved that your head went blank as he finally gave you what you wanted. “Needy baby, all for me.”

You would’ve retorted, snapped back, had anything to say, had it not been for his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking on it harshly as your hips bucked up into his face, and your eyes rolled back in your head. A finger prodded at your core, a single digit slipping into your velvet channel with ease, and your walls clenched frantically around the finger from the moment he had sunk right down until his knuckles were pressed to your flesh. He could reach deeper than you ever could and you couldn't drag oxygen into your body in even half-lungfuls anymore because he was driving you insane, twisting and curling that finger, just enough to rub at your walls, teasing you as he searched for that spot that drove. you wild.

He knew where it was, his fingertip brushing against it, and when you keened up, loud sobs of his name falling from your lips, he chuckled into your skin. Abusing both patches that made you crazy, inside and out, he was a deadly combination, slow motions making you wish he’d speed up, but he was dragging it out, knowing that if he kept it up, you’d melt, become utterly senseless and completely empty of any thought or complaint about the day, and that was where he wanted you.

You knew he did, he wanted you blissed out, cum-drunk and dazed, so that you wouldn't be sad about missing your friends or not getting to celebrate how you wanted, and you were more than happy to give in to that whim if it meant you were allowed to chase the orgasm that was steadily building within you at the momentum because as that spring wound up tighter and the heat rose, there wasn’t a single thought in your head except reaching climax, and chanting your husbands name as his mouth worked you over.

Your hand was tangled in the dark chocolate locks atop his head, still messy and mussed from sleep, now even more fucked-up as you tugged at them limply, body going weak as you teetered on the edge of your peak. As though sensing how close you were, his attention moved from your swollen bud, down further, slurping up hungrily at everything you’d given him, everything he’d drawn from you, before this tongue was plunging into your centre.

At the touch, you exploded, stars flashing behind your eyes as you came undone around his tongue,  and he moaned himself, loudly and unashamedly as his fingers flexed against your thighs, wiggling tightly and holding them apart as they trebled, legs attempting to snap closed around his head and he never let up on his assault, tongue fucking in and out of you as your walls fluttered.

He’d given up on the soft and lazy act, becoming impatient himself, and he’d always been vocal about how much he loved to be buried between your thighs, but sometimes, it still surprised you, times like now, when he was selflessly desperate to feel you come undone again, to lick you clean as juices flowed from you, and your head was spinning as you neared yet another edge.

He pulled back, two fingers delving into your folds, moving at speeds you could barely comprehend as they slammed in and out of you, your cries growing in volume until you were screaming his name, arching up and quivering against the marble countertop, before he placed a final nip to your clit, humming proudly and contentedly as he felt you cum again. Juiced dripped down his wrist, pooling on the floor in droplets, tears dripping from your eyes, chest heaving for breath, and when you couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled back. Licking you clean and leaving you to beg and plead, spasming atop the tabletop, he left you clean of slick and cum, kissing his way back up your body until he was standing between your parted thighs, the tip of his nose nudging under your jaw.

“Better?”

You made a vague sound of questioning, too fucked-out to even open your eyes, and you were sure Thomas’ chest was puffing out, ego swelling at just how he managed to get you like this, and he pulled away. Sucking wet fingers into his mouth to clean them off, he used his other to pull you up into a sitting position, goosebumps rising along your skin as the chill in the room began to seep back in.

You waved a hand around loosely for your top, finding it and tugging it back on, barely checking it was on the right way, before your cardigan was following. Large hands were still massaging along your legs, which were now wrapped around his waist, and you jumped a little as his thumb smoothed over a deliciously sore bite mark that he’d left on your inner thigh.

“That was fucking fantastic.” You murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he beamed, pride rising within him, but he didn’t comment on it. “Best Christmas present ever.”

“Don’t say that, you haven’t even opened my gifts yet. I’ve got you beat this year, there’s no way you can top it.” You cracked a smirk, shrugging at him and resting your cheek to his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, I have a pretty great gift for you myself.” His hands smoothed up and down your back under your jacket, warming you up through and through just with the loving touches he gifted to you. It was moments like these that you would always remember; sex with Thomas was mind-blowing and spectacular every single time, but it was the moments after that were what made your relationship what it was, the way he’d hold you so lovingly, touch you with such tender adoration that you felt your heart may actually explode, ad he did it all because he wanted to, not because e was expected to or he thought t would make you happy, but purely because he desired to be with you as much as you with him. “Can I have my pants back now?”

“Think you need new ones, yours are pretty wet.” There was a tone laced to his voice that made shy and embarrassed warmth flood your face once again, making you glad he couldn't see you from where you were buried in his neck, but not missing the way his foot was rubbing the garments across the tiles to dry the floor, before flicking them away a little.

“Okay, but let me down, because I’m still hungry, and I want those pancakes.”

He held you a second longer, a light squeeze, before he stepped back and let you go, tapping at your ass in a cheeky spank as you bent to collect your discarded clothes to take to the laundry, before you were walking away from him with a skip.

A new set of clothes, a trip to the bathroom to clean yourself up, and running a brush through your hair to fix it and pull it out of your face and into a reasonably controllable bundle on your head. When you reentered the kitchen, Thomas was sitting on one of the stools, using your knife and fork to eat the half-cold pancakes, and you grabbed your own set, sitting opposite him, and tucking in.

The meal consisted of laughs, and jokes, hinting at gifts for one another without ever quite giving them away, and then, making a plan for your day. You didn’t have the right ingredients to make a Christmas dinner, and an entirely free day, where you would have been leaving in half an hour to make your way over to Newt’s place. Instead, you would exchange your gifts together, and make your attempt at a decent Christmas dinner, before video chatting with your friends for a while, and finishing off the day with a movie.

It wasn’t the Christmas you’d planned, but it would be perfect in its own way.

The tree lights were twinkling softly, glittering on the wrapping paper you had covering your gifts neatly underneath, a matching set in a different colour, reindeers dancing across the front in a gift wrap Thomas had chosen for you. Your untouched coffee was now cold, and you tipped it away, getting a new mug out and filling the kettle under the tap, before setting it off. A herbal tea bag was placed into the mug, a spoonful of honey and a slice of lemon to follow, before a pair of arms were wrapping around your waist.

“Hurry up, I want you to open your gift already.”

“Patience is a virtue.” You hummed, and he sighed loudly, shuffling in a little closer to you. His chin hooked onto your shoulder, hot breath fanning over your cheek, followed by a seat kiss, and you leaned back a little into his chest. Your hands rested over your hips where his hand had joined, squeezing lightly, and nuzzled a little further into you. “Besides, I already told you that my gift is going to win this year.”

“I won for the last two years and Valentine’s Day, you don’t stand a chance.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning a little at his competitive side beginning to shine through, and as the kettle finally clicked off, water boiling, you filled your mug, stirring it lightly to spread the flavour, before nudging him backwards with your hips, hearing him groan a little as you did, a false glare on his face form the way you’d pressed your ass up against him to get him to move, but then, he was following you to the living room.

You blew the steam from your mug, fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic, the smell of apple and cranberry drifting up to your nose, surrounding you and soothing any worries you may have as you settled down onto the couch. Thomas stood before the tree, one foot poking at the gifts sitting under the decorative branches, assessing them all, before turning to look at you. “Save the best for last?”

There was a smirk on his face, and you mirrored it, his eyes narrowing on you a little bit. “Works for me.”

“Great, so I’ll give you a gift last, then?”

“For now.” His cocky tone was enough to make the game a little more exciting, and he rose a brow, turning to motion at the gifts that you’d placed there, before lifting one up for you. He handed it over, before looking back at the ones for him, and waiting for you to guide him. “Open any, the winning gift isn’t under the tree.”

“I think you’ll find it is.” He teased, pointing to the one he’d wrapped himself, before grabbing the first glitter package with his name on that he could reach.

“Actually, it’s over here, sitting on the couch.” A wicked grin on your lips, and his eyes scanned over you, jaw dropping a little, and you watched as his eyes went half-lidded for just a second, wondering just how filthy his mind had gone, and then he was chewing on his lower lip, seeming to snap back to reality, his gaze snapping up from your tits to your eyes.

He pounced, two strides closing the distance, before one hand was supporting himself on the back of the couch as he leaned over you, pressing a long kiss to your lips, licking his way into your mouth, and groaning a little at the way you pressed back into him just as eagerly, one hand lacing into his hair, pulling on the strands slightly. When he pulled back, it was with your lower lip between his teeth, growling lightly, before letting it go. “I can’t wait to unwrap that gift later, then.”

“Alright, hot stuff.”

He beamed, taking a seat beside you and placing the sparkly package onto his lap, a few pieces of glitter falling away to decorate his pyjama pants, but he was too excited to steady himself anyway. Tearing at the paper, he left it scattered along the living room floor, stripping the gift of its concealment, and lifting it up to take a look. The pause only lasted for a second, before he was lighting up with joy, and turning to look at you with wide eyes.

He'd been talking about it for months, but he had no idea what it was called, or where he would find it, and he was pretty sure he’d never find it. It was a printer for his earpieces, creating custom little cases that he could put on them, so that the boring piece of plastic that he had to wear in his ear all day, every day, on the casino floor, could finally be something a little more exciting.

“I can’t believe you found it!”

“It wasn’t easy to find, at all. What are you going to print first?” He considered it, staring down at the box, before shrugging his shoulders, mind coming up clear.

Flicking your finger under the edge of the wrapping, it popped loose, and you continued to go, watching as he twisted towards you a little more. It was a set of your favourite skincare products, ones that you’d been running out of and kept intending to get more of but always seemed to forget about somehow, and he’d clearly been browsing the website, because the box was stuffed full of all different types of new products, samples and new things to try, as well as bath bombs and room sprays.

The rest of the gifts followed along much the same pathway, simple gifts that were more practical than special, but meaningful nonetheless. You got him new boxers, with reindeers and baubles on, and he smirked as he gave you a new set of lc that could scarcely be counted as underwear, before following it with a filthy kiss and whispered promises for later.

You got him new cologne with a matching shampoo and body wash set, and he got you a new blazer for work after your last one ripped, and you opened all the gifts from your friends and family that were still sitting there. Your last gift to him has been tap bracelets, ones that he could wear at work for when he was feeling anxious, so that yours would buzz whenever he tapped it, and he got a little teary at the gesture.

As the room was littered with ribbons, bows, and torn paper, he picked up the last gift and waved it a little, the couch bouncing underneath you as he flopped back onto the cushions, sitting beside you. “So, not that those bracelets aren’t amazing - because they are - but they can’t top this. Are you ready for the best gift of the year?”

“I suppose so.” You wiggled your fingers, in a ‘gimme’ motion, and it handed it over. You were no longer delicate with the opening, tearing at the paper roughly to reveal what was inside, and shucking it of the silk that hid it, before lifting it up to get a better look.

It was a scrapbook, a beautiful fake-leather design that had golden-embossed letters across the front. Opening it up, there was a small gasp on your lips, pictures of yourself and Thomas that you’d never seen before, right from the very first hours of your wedding.

You hadn't even put on your dress yet, still standing with your hair pinned back waiting to be styled, make-up half done, and a glass of champagne in hand as you laughed with you friends, a shot clearly taken by one of the girls who’d been with you that morning as you got ready. Another beside it was of Thomas, face red and a slightly panicked look on his features as he stood with his shirt half-buttoned, one shoe in hand as he stared around the room for the other, a note written underneath that Newt had hidden it from him just to fuck with him.

Turning the pages, you found ones that were more professional, outtakes from the photographer that weren’t ones that had ever made the cut, slightly blurry ones or the sun shining across the scene, ones where you weren’t looking or weren’t as visible in crowds, and yet they were perfect. Every glance you had cast Thomas, all the moments between you both that the photographer had somehow seemed to capture, memories you didn’t even realise you had all flooding back, the little moments that weren’t staged or pressured like a first dance, your lips sat parted in awe. They had gone one, too, print outs and pictures from your honeymoon, photos you had taken together, or hadn't realised he had taken at all.

“Did you make this yourself?”

“I had a little help, but mostly, yeah. Is it okay?” He lifted his hand to his face, chewing on his nail lightly as he stared at you, and you reached a hand out, bringing it away from his face, and leaning in a little closer to him. He sighed in relief, sensing where this was going, and moving in close enough to rest his forehead against your own.

“It’s perfect, I love it.”

He let out a little laugh, nodding his head to himself in confirmation, before closing the gap. It was a sweet and soft kiss, one that conveyed everything that needed to be said, and paper crinkled loudly as he shifted, pushing it away to the side, falling to the floor after being removed from where it was pressed between your bodies as he pulled you in closer, and you held his face with both hands, nails scratching lightly at his jaw, freshly shaven and soft skin making him shudder as you scratched at it lightly.

“I love you.”

“I know, I love you too.” His mouth moved, trailing along your skin to your cheek, kisses being pressed all the way along, up your temple to your forehead, and your face screwed up at the ticklish feeling, making him laugh as he felt your features wrinkle under his lips. “Gettin’ on into the day, want to go find something to make for Christmas dinner?”

“Absolutely.”

He stood first, offering his hands out to you and pulling you to your feet when your fingers slid into his and held on tight, and he winked a little, hands slipping around behind you, pinching at your ass cheekily and making you jump, shrugging when you gasped and fixed him with a questioning look.  “You’re just hot. Your ass has been looking great lately.”

“You’re so horny, all the time.”

“Because my wife is hot, that’s why.” You rolled your eyes, letting him walk a step ahead of you, and you placed a loud smack on his ass as he went, watching as he turned to face you with a dropped jaw and pink cheeks, grabbing at his own ass for protection as he walked backwards. “You did not!”

“What can I say? You’re just hot. Your ass has been looking great lately.” He mimicked you childishly, a grin taking over his features despite it, and he snatched up both of your hands in his, holding them up high like a revered and feared weapon, dragging you into the kitchen as you stumbled over your own feet.

In the freezer, you had a small batch of chicken, some frozen vegetables and an apple pie. In the fridge, you had some potatoes, and enough spices in the cupboards to make decent gravy. He boiled water while you sliced the potatoes, dropping them in to begin boiling, and turning up the radio to listen to the Christmas songs that were playing. Once your chicken and potatoes were in the oven, you chopped up some veggies for roasting, hearing him clatter around in the cupboards, and he insisted that you stayed turned around to face the counter.

When he finally let you look, there was a tablecloth that you had forgotten you even had laid out, white with a few stains around the edges, and a faded and slightly purple mark in the middle from where wine had been split on it and never property come out before it had been permanently put away, but he’d carefully covered it by placing your vase full of winter flowers in the middle. There was cutlery laid out ready, and bowls and plates, and he was overly proud of himself for the decorations, chairs pulled around a little so that you’d still be able to see one another, instead of being blocked off by the centrepiece.

“So, guess what I found while setting up the table?”

“What did you find, baby?”

The sloshing sound gave it away, before he ever pulled it out from behind his back, and he waved it at you a little. “A super nice bottle of wine that was a wedding present. Wanna’ get us some glasses?”

“Not right now, I don’t want to drink when we’re on video chat with our friends.” His face fell a little, brows raising, before he was fixing you with a quizzical glance, and you laughed, shaking your head at his speculation. “Maybe later, okay? I’m having a great time with you right as we are. Besides, don’t you think wine that special is more of a late-night drink, when we’re watching a movie, all alone? Don’t you want to save it for some fun later?”

You dragged a nail along his chest, catching lightly on the fabric on his shirt, and he followed it with his gaze, licking at his lips and nodding his head. “Shit, you’re totally right.”

“Mhm, always am.” You grinned, and he scoffed, but pecked your lips, offering his agreement to you, and placing the bottle down on the counter.

The clock ticked over, half an hour until four o’clock, and you started off the mashed potatoes on reheating, and the rest of the food on cooking, and you had everything that you needed to have a meal. You worked together to clean up the living room, scooping up all the leftover scraps, and you vacuumed all the sparkles that were going to get stuck in the carpet. Once you were finished, you settled down together on the couch, laptop set up before you, and waiting for the group to become active, and to click through onto the camera.

Thomas was pressed up to your side, arm stretched out along the back of the couch behind you, fingers brushing against your shoulder, waiting as everybody joined, until noise was filling your living room, seeing everybody else light up.

As the evening went on, you listened to each of them talk about what they’d done with their day, and show off their presents, and the men had been overly excited to see how their scrapbooking efforts had gone down, Minho complaining about the paper-cuts he’d gotten at every possible chance there was.

You were drunk on the feeling of pure joy, hearing your friends laugh and share stories, the sadness that you’d held about not being able to see your friends ebbing away to be replaced with simple happiness, at getting to hear what their days had entailed despite it. Brenda had dropped an entire tray of roast potatoes, and they had to start again, Minho had fed his dog turkey and vegetables, and the sweet little puppy had thrown it up on his foot after getting over-excited about playing fetch ten minutes later, and Newt had accidentally spilt the water at the bottom of his tree and almost lost an eye on the lower branches while mopping it up. There was a graze just below his left eye.

They shared their gifts, and got progressively more drunk, and some of the other families even stopped by at some points to give a wave, and well-wishes, and talk with you for a quick moment. It was lovely, and perfect in its own way, and when it had been over, you’d been hesitant to end the call at all and let them go. As the screen of the computer had gone black, you’d turned to your lover, legs swung across his lap and cuddling in a little closer as the temperatures began to drop down once again, awe evident on your features as snow was beginning to flutter down once again.

The look on his face was soft as you brushed the strands of hair back and out of his eyes, before they were fluttering shut upon feeling your thumb brushing over his cheek. Your dinner was only minutes away from being ready, and you were content in one another’s company, simply letting the day drain away as you soaked up how it felt just to be the two of you, spending your first Christmas in a home you owned, as a married couple, with everything in the world to look forwards to. Resting your cheek on his shoulder, his arms tightened around you leaning back and into the cushions comfortably, as the two of you sat in loving silence.

The oven-timer dinged, and you were hesitant to move, a groan on your lips, lingering a few minutes longer, before you shifted, his grip on your loosening as you got up. The smell of freshly cooked food filled the air, steam pouring out of the oven from the second that it was opened, and it drifted around you as you began to pull out the trays, hearing your husband clattering around behind you as he gathered plates and cutlery.

Bumping his hip against yours as he came to stand behind you, he had a spoon in his hands, laying the plates out and beginning to dish up the vegetable as you stood beside one another, serving up food in comfortable silence. Warmth was pouring off of the man, he’d always felt like a human space heater, always making it extra comfortable to be wrapped up in his arms, and you were tempted to just fall into his grip right now, but resisted, your stomach rumbling happily as your meal came together.

Leaving all of the equipment stacked up in the sink, that was definitely something you could deal with later, Thomas taking his seat first, leg reached out under the table as he pushed your chair out for you, fingers twitching atop the table cloth as he tries to resist the urge to start eating until you were ready. Placing a glass down for him, you were drinking water yourself, and Thomas raised his brows, accepting the drink you were holding out for him, eyes flicking to the counter.

“No wine?”

“I have plans for the wine later.” You teased, one eye dropping in a wink, and pink spread over his cheeks in an adorable blush, despite him being a cocky as he always was, and his lips twisted up in a slight smirk.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot that you’d promised me one more gift.” His eyes dropped down for a second, scanning along what he could see of your body above the table, before stabbing at some of the vegetables on his plate and chewing on them happily. It was an odd mix of foods, making the best of your Christmas dinner that you could, and yet, it was one that you’d always remember and be able to tell as a story at parties and to friends in the future, a Christmas that you’d never forget.

This year was undoubtedly the biggest one to ever change your life, a turning point, not just the start of a new chapter, but the ending of one book and the beginning of a whole new one. “We got married this year.”

Thomas glanced up, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth, and you saw the look of mischief flash through his eyes before his lips had even quirked up into a smirk around the words he was forming; “I know. I was there, or do you not remember?”

“Oh, hush.” You frowned, rolling your eyes at him, and he stretched out under the table, toes poking against your foot, before you stretched back, locking your ankle with his own, and he continued to eat as he waited for you to expand on your point. “I just mean, well, look at us. We have a house, and we’re married, and it’s all just ours. We made it all ourselves. Five years ago, I would’ve been at my parents’ house eating turkey and listening to my cousins bitch about how I shouldn’t still be single.”

“Five years ago, I would’ve been drunk by now, listening to Minho flirt with his holi-date and listening to Newt pine after hot magazine models, while I pictured you and how much I loved you, and I didn’t even know your name yet.” Your breathing got stuck a little in your throat, your brows raising at the soft tone in his voice as he placed down his knife and fork across the centre of his plate, shrugging as he leaned back in his seat. “I just knew that one day I’d find the perfect woman; then, a few months later, I met you.”

“I still get butterflies when you tell me you love me.”

“I love you.” He beamed, watching as you squirmed a little in your seat, watching your reaction and knowing the effect he had on you, snickering to himself a little, before sobering up once again. “I still get that tingly feeling when you kiss me sometimes, all the way down to my toes. At the most random of times, like in the milk aisle at the supermarket, or in the bathroom when I'm brushing my teeth.”

“Glad to know I still have that effect on you.” You took a sip of your water, smirking over the rim of your glass at him, and he just continued to stare, a lazy and distant kind of look on his face, and you could tell that his mind had slipped far away, lost in his thoughts, but it was nothing that you weren’t used to. You finished up your own food, and sat with him for a while in silence, fading in and out of your thoughts, slipping to and from for a while, until the chair grew uncomfortable, and you stood up, stretching your limbs out and shaking yourself down.

He watched you go, sighing a little as he did, and taking your outstretched hands when you offered them to him. As he stood, you went from looking down at him to looking up, and he leaned down, just enough to bump his nose against your own.

“Wanna’ go cuddle on the couch with a blanket?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He teased, pushing you a little toward the doorway. “Go find a blanket and pick out a movie, I’ll put everything in the dishwasher and set it off, I’ll be there in two minutes, okay?”

“M’kay.” You whispered, pushing up onto the tips of your toes long enough to steal a kiss from his lips, and he pressed back eagerly upon feeling your mouth against his own. Hands on your waist pushed you back, his lips still puckered as he pulled away, urging you to go and get comfortable. The kitchen tiles were chilled underfoot as you walked away, and the floorboards were still cold to the touch too, but the carpets of the living room were a little warmer, and as you picked up the knitted blanket that was rolled up on the back of the couch.

Wrapping it over your shoulders, you grabbed the remotes, turning on the TV and waiting for the channels to adjust, before you were loading up Netflix to scroll through the Christmas movies. Thomas was clattering about in the kitchen, the sounds of cutlery scraping on plates and of them being loaded into the racks, set up to be washed. As you settled on one, you heard him toying with the controls, beeping signalling that the machine had started up on cleaning the dishes used, and the flooring creaked under every step he took, before the cushions were dipping and caving beside you as he settled down at your side.

Wrapping an arm over your shoulders, he pulled you back into his chest, letting you get comfortable as he did, spreading one leg out along the couch, and one remaining where it was, planted on the floor for support as you settled back into his chest, lips brushing across your head. “I chose us a movie to watch.”

“Whatever you want is fine with me, baby.”

“Such a sap.” You mumbled, receiving a teasing squeeze around you in retaliation for your words as you pressed play, and feeling him tugging at the blanket a little until you shed it, spreading it out over your lap and his legs, until both of you were tucked snugly underneath it, the beginning credits beginning to play.

Yo almost dozed off only a few minutes in, a combination of feeling so full and content, loved and safe in the arms of the man you loved. One hand was sitting in your lap, fingers waived with your own loosely above the covers, while the other was sitting underneath the edge of your shirt, sitting over your stomach, holding you anchored to him.

You barely registered the movie playing, more caught up in your mind over everything you found yourself with, every situation and scenario, every night being able to go to bed alongside the man you loved, and waking up to him in the morning.

Only a few years ago, you were alone, with no idea you were about to meet the love of your life. Then, you’d started a new job, and met a sweet security guard with a cocky attitude and a heart of gold, and he’d stolen your heart right out from under you while sweeping you off of your feet, even when you hadn't planned for it to happen. You had thought you were happy, that you were content with being single and focusing on yourself, and yet, just by being himself, he had somehow become everything you wanted and needed.

You wouldn’t change it for the world.

Halfway through, Thomas had grown bored of sitting quietly, as he usually did, his fingers stroking a little over your skin as he tried to grab your attention, and his lips moving along your shoulder, the ti of his nose stroking stray strands of hair out of his way, until he could get to the column of your throat.

His teeth nipped a little at your flesh, just enough to tease, a light laugh falling from you as you trembled in his arms a little bit, and you twisted around to face him, straddling his lap as you did, and he smiled up, hands coming to sit on your hips as yours sat on his shoulders, thumbs smoothing over the base of his neck. “Bored, Tommy?”

“Little bit. This film kinda’ sucks.”

You tried to suppress the snort of a laugh that you wanted to release, nodding your head as you knew it to be true. It wasn’t the greatest, but it was new and trending on Netflix, and so had given it a go. Shifting out of his hold, he whined a little as you went, but watched you walk away, scooping up one of the boxes you’d given him, and bringing it back over, shaking it excitedly. “Why don’t you try your new gift out, huh? I’ll help you pick something to print!”

He stood up to meet you, nodding his head and taking it from your hands, before trying to undo the tape sealing the box shut, and tipping the components out onto the couch.

“I’ll take everything else to the bedroom, you get it set up, ‘kay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He teased, offering you a little wink, before he was padding across to one of the only remaining empty sockets now they were filled with Christmas lights and decorations, and sitting down on the carpet, legs crossed as he plugged it in and reached back for the instruction booklet.

Grabbing the remaining boxes and bags, you made your way through the house, backing through the door and pushing it open with your butt, before using your elbow to flick on the bedroom light. The boxes were stacked in the corner, everything else sitting on top, a job to be dealt with in the morning. The beautiful leather-bound album that was sitting on top of them all had the embossed lettering glittering under the light, and you picked it up, taking a seat on the bed and placing it down in your lap.

It was physical proof of the love between you both, a record of every moment that you’d been able to map throughout your wedding, your relationship coming to an ultimate peak, and blossoming into something even more incredible. Every page brought you a little closer to tears, as you realised just how much you loved him, and how you wouldn’t be who you were anymore without him. Placing the beautiful album back down, you grabbed the final bag, discarding the tissue paper and pushing the bedroom door closed a little more, a smirk on your lips.

You could hear whispered curses and mumbles coming from your husband as he tried to work out how to operate the machine you’d bought him, and you slipped your clothes from your body, dropping them into the laundry hamper. It only took you a moment to rub a freshly scented moisturiser over your body, skin still smooth and clean from the last shower you’d had, and a few spritzes of the perfume you knew drove your lover mad.

Taking off the pretty tags form the new lacy set laid out on the covers, you slipped the garments onto your body, suspenders clipping once you’d pulled the stockings up your legs, and your breasts were swollen in the bra, and you couldn't deny how good you looked, and felt. Once you were dressed, feet moving softly on the floorboards as you returned to the living room, you ran a hand through your hair, messing it up just enough to be sexy, and leaning on the doorframe.

“You figure it out yet, baby?”

“Almost.” He mumbled, never looking up, and you waited, brows raising a little when he continued to be completely preoccupied with the task at hand. He placed the booklet between his teeth, a huff on his lips as he tried to press a series of buttons again, only for it to beep and flash red at him, and he huffed, not noticing you making your way towards him.

“Little cold in here, don’t you want to warm up?”

“Blanket is still on the couch.”

You grinned, thrilled to know he was enjoying your gift so much, but ready for him to be busy with something else for a little while. Placing a finger under his chin, you twisted his head toward you, his eyes finally leaving the device he’d been tinkering with, and his jaw dropped. The paper fell from his mouth and fluttered away, his eyes dragging along you slowly, down to your feet before moving back up to your face, and then it was all the way down once again. He took in every feature, eyes lingering on the pace where your stockings were held up, the soft flesh there, his fingers twitched a little before he was taking in the intricate lace detailing covering you.

“Holy fuck, baby.” He put the device down, twisting to face you, moving to kneel instead of sitting, and his hands hooked onto the back of your legs, fingers flexing against your calves. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

He leaned in to press a kiss to the exposed skin of your upper thigh, an equally wet one to match on the other side, kneeling before you as he kissed at your flesh slowly, dragging the tip of his nose over the front of your covered core, just above where your would’ve really wanted him, and your hand slipped into his hair. His fingers were kneading at your muscle as he worked his way up, until he was taking handfuls of your barely covered ass in his hold, beginning to stand slowly, kissing his way up your body with every inch that he rose upwards, until he was standing fully before you.

Your head tipped back as he sucked on your neck, working to leave a pretty mark on the junction between your throat and shoulder, his hands smoothing over your sides, until he could squeeze at your breasts, making you arch up into his body, a chuckle washing over your skin.

“Jump for me, angel.”

He caught you as you did, more than experienced in the act, lifting you up into his arms as your legs wrapped around his waist, never once stumbling or tripping as he guided you to the bedroom, never letting up on his assault along your neck. Your back met the covers, pressing you down into the soft material carefully, letting you inch your way up until your head was in the pillows as he crawled after you, body covering your own.

Finally, you pulled his mouth to meet yours, a hot and wet kiss, long overdue and sorely needed, his teeth all but clashing with your own from the intensity of it.

He held himself up above you with both hands, his body pressing to your own as one thigh came up to settle between your legs, a whimper leaving you, swallowed by him as the muscle pressed against your already wettening core. When you finally ran out of breath, he shifted his kisses along your jaw, nipping as he went, and you knew that there would be red patches and dark bruises to follow, the slight scrape of his stubble along your skin making you tremble a little underneath him, and your hips bucked up against him.

“S’okay, sweetheart. Go ahead, rub up on my thigh, I know you want to.” His words washed over your jaw in hot breaths, a whine leaving you, before you were doing exactly as he’d offered, hips beginning to roll up against him. The friction sparked something in your gut, a soft sigh leaving you, pressing down harder with each movement you made, seeking out the climax that was slowly beginning to build. As you did, Thomas was shifting further and further down your body, pulling out the ribbons and strings that were holding the lace closed around your body, each bow delicately undone revealing a little more of your body to him. “You look so hot in this. I have good taste.”

He caught your eyes, just for a second, but long enough to wink at you to follow his comment, before he was kneeling back, sitting on his heels and pulling you up alongside him. Settling you in his lap, your arms looped around his neck, legs kneeling on either side of his waist, sitting atop his thighs, a whine leaving you as you could no longer grind against his thigh.

Rough hands on your hips centred you across him, licking over his lips to bite down on his lower lip as he pushed you down against the bulge in his sweats, a quick breath expelled as you did, and his eyes seemed to darken even further, twinkling in the low light pouring in from the corridor.

One arm wrapped around your waist to support you as you leaned back from him, a grunt spilling out as you pressed down harder into him, his cock throbbing through the material against your centre. As you flicked on the lamp, warm light flooded over the room, lighting it up enough for you to see one another, casting shadows over you both that sharpened his features, catching the golden flecks within his eyes as he looked at you.

“Do you feel what you do to me, angel? Pretty lady in my lap, all dolled up in lace. You’re incredible.”

“You have the same effect on me, don’t you worry.” You whispered, leaning in to catch his lips with your own again in a slower kiss. He was holding you to him tightly, mouth working with yours in the slow rhythms that you set, perfectly willing to take all the time in the world, because you had nowhere else to be except right here, with one another. Tracing your tongue song his lip, he let out a soft sound as he parted his lips for you, head twisting to the side so that he could dip into you a little further, tongue exploring your mouth as though he’d never kissed you in such a way before, butterflies rising in your stomach at the delicate way in which he held you.

Tugging at the hem of his shirt, you inched it up along his body, legs tightening around him to hold yourself steady as his arms raised over his head to let you strip it away, before he was peeling the lingerie from your body down, letting it pool around your waist as his shirt fell away from your hands to the floor, discarded for the time being. The second your upper body was able to him, you were being laid back into the bedding, letting him follow after, your head resting a month the pillows, hands on his cheeks to hold his kiss to you, legs wrapping around him as you did.

Fingers inched along your body, the muscles in your stomach fluttering as he did, until they were slipping under the fabric, pushing the crotch of your panties aside to tease a finger through your slick folds. His lips twisted up against your own, a smile that was borderline a smirk against your lips, and his forehead met your own as he pulled back.

“I love knowing I can get you like this.” His lips still brushed against yours as he spoke, a single digit slipping into your entrance, and you arched up into him as the pad brushed along your walls slowly. He set a steady pace, picking up speed as he went, your jaw dropping a little, breath shared between you both as he moved.

He was taking his time, what you had expected would be fast and rough was turning out to be slow and passionate. You’d expected him to take one look at you in the pretty little number he’d bought you and almost tear it right off of you, to fuck you senseless until you were tearing up his back and screaming out loud enough that you’d bother the neighbours if the houses were connected, but instead, you were getting a night of lovemaking and torturous teasing.

A second finger prodded at your entrance, slipping into you with ease as your slick coated his fingers, arousal flowing from you without difficulty, and a cry of his name was dragged for your lips the second he crooked them while buried deep within you. “That’s right, baby. Call my name.”

“Tommy, please, stop teasing me!”

“Tell me what you want, baby love.” He pecked your lips sweetly as you whimpered, fingers slowing even more within you, deep and penetrating movements each time, though, your breath shallow in your lungs as your head began to spin and stomach began to tighten. “Use your words, pretty girl.”

The way his voice had twisted into something a little darker, something condescending that made you cry out, because it was just enough to leave you desperate and gasping as he dominated over you. “More. Faster, harder, anything, I just need more.”

“Yeah? I can do that for you.” He scissored his fingers as he pulled out, stretching your entrance to warm you up, that delicious burn creating a dull ache that was chased away by pure lust, your body shaking as he plunged his fingers back into you. He took it up, doing just as you’d asked, your eyes rolling back into your head with every subtle scrape of his blunt nails against your wall as he fucked your roughly onto his fingers, a filthy sound filling the room as he worked, your hips rocking up into his palm as you tried to meet his motions, clit rubbing against his palm through the layers of bunched up and pushed aside materials that blocked your entrance form him. “Feel you squeezin’ my fingers, angel, so tight. Just like you do when you’re wrapped around my cock. You want that?”

“Yes, yes, I do! Please!”

You could barely form words, the looming climax that was hanging over your head was making you dizzy, and he chuckled, kissing at your jaw, sucking what would become a dark bruise onto the hinge of your jaw, licking wetly over it once he was finished, and blowing cool breath over the wet patch, watching you tremble underneath him. “Tell me what you want, pretty baby. Use your words, or have I fucked you stupid, already?”

A growl on your lips, despite the fact that you’d never speak up, because every time he took on this kind of personality with you it drove you insane, and so you leaned dup inside, catching his lower lip in your teeth and tugging a little, a much louder and more threatening growl in return. His motions stilled, fingers buried deep inside of you, pads pushed up against your g-spot, the pressure making your entire body twitch and tremble at the stimulation, gasping out in need as you groaned.

“I said, use your words, not get sassy with me.”

“You stopped, don’t stop. I’m close, Tommy.” Your fingers brushed over his wrist, trying to get him to move, but he tutted, shaking his head, the tip of his nose brushing over yours.

“Use your words, honey, and you can have whatever you want.” He pulled his fingers out of you, a dirty sound following, and you cried out in distaste, before he was sucking on his fingers, and watching you carefully.

Heat flushed over your face as you watched him, tongue lapping at his fingers noisily as he cleaned them of your arousal, waiting for you to speak up with what you wanted, and you had to force yourself past your shyness, watching his eager enthusiasm as he stared you down, brows raised and waiting with a sultry look on his face. Kneeling back, he settled between your parted thighs, one finger snapping the soaked lace back into place over your folds, and your body jerked at the sting, legs snapping shut as a short but loud moan sounded from you as he did.

He grinned as he felt your thighs clamp around him a little, large hands smoothing up over your legs, undoing the clips that were holding up your stockings, eyes fixed on yours as he moved, in no hurry.

“Tommy..”

“Yes, my love? You got something to say to me?”

You pushed up on your hands, propping yourself up before him, and his eyes dropped down to the swell of your tits momentarily, caught in awe momentarily, and the confidence it gave you rushed through your body. “I want you to fuck me, Tommy. Fast and rough, real good, like I know you can. Make me scream, Thomas.”

“See? Now that wasn’t that hard, was it?” His hands hooked into the rest of the fabric, yanking it down your hips and off of your body, throwing it away to the floor. Calloused palms landed on your knees, pushing your thighs apart, and your body collapsed back into the bedding. “That’s all you had to say.”

You sneered a little, jumping as he pinched at the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh, before he was standing from the bed, palming at his evident erection through the worn thin cotton of his sweats, a slight wet mark forming on the front of his pants from the precum dribbling from his cock, before he was pushing them away down his legs. They pooled at his ankles, kicked away, and you reached out to him, curling a finger as you beckoned him closer to you.

Instead, he caught your hand, pulling your hand in towards him a little and curling your fingers around his length, a breathy sigh leaving him as you took the hint and pumped him slowly. Swiping the pad of your thumb over his head, he hissed a little as you brushed across the slit on his cock, collecting up the wetness that was beading there, and pulling your hand away, sucking the digit between your lips as he watched through half-lidded eyes.

Rolling down onto the bed beside you, the mattress dipped under his weight, bounding you up into his body, and he took your momentarily elevated height as an opportunity to press a rough kiss to your lips, one hand tangling in your hair. The taste of your own essence was spread to your lips, matching the salty taste of his arousal still lingering along your lips, making everything seem even more erotic.

Lining himself up, you felt him gasp into your mouth as he sank into your awaiting heat, your breath forced from your lungs as you felt him stretch you out in a way that had always worked so perfectly, the two of you syncing up in perfect harmony just the way you always did, his cock sitting snugly between your walls. He filled you up, a delicious friction with every ridge within you that dragged against him, every pulse he made making you pulse around him, a connection so deep and intimate that it made you flush every single time it happened.

One of your hands sat on his shoulders, the other weaving into his hair to scratch at his scalp lightly. “Kiss me, Thomas.”

“Thought you wanted me to make you scream?” He whispered, leaning down enough to catch your lips with his, not waiting for your response, soft kisses that seemed completely fractured from the moment, out of place or wrong, and yet completely and utterly right. Drags of lips over your own, making your racing heart skip a beat on your chest at the tenderness of the way he held you, your hand tightening in his hair until he groaned a little as you tugged on the strands, and your lips were stinging a little when he pulled back, his own red and swollen to match.

“I do want that, I just wanted some lovin’ first.”

“I'm always lovin’ on you, baby.” He smiled, stealing a final kiss from your lips, before he was pulling out, every inch of him dragging over your inner walls, pausing for only a second to prolong your sensual suffering, before he was slamming into you. A rough thrust that made every nerve within you light up, and you barely had time to process your own thoughts, to take a breath or cry out his name, before he was repeating the action.

The hand in his hair twisted even tighter, pulling on the soft strands as you held onto him, trying to ground yourself down to the earth. Every time together and you feel like you were floating in the clouds, reaching heaven with every thrust he delivered. The telltale signs of another climax were beginning to show, the coil in your stomach tightening and your body was lighting up with fire.

Cupping his face, your thumb smoothed over his cheek, feeling him lean into you, before he was slowing down for only a second in order to pull your hand down pinning it to the bed and lacing his fingers with your own. The tip of his cock was pressing up to the sweet spot inside of you, your back arching up, sweat beading along his skin with the speed of which he was filling you up, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. “You’re always so damn tight, honey. Love the way you feel.”

You could only nod, the stretch of him tucked within you making every thought in your head seem to evaporate, and your hand slipped along his shoulder to his back. Nails digging into pale flesh, tearing tracks in mole-speckles skin that would show up red and raw, and he pressed up into your touch, the slightly biting pain being something that you knew he loved, especially when he really wanted to go wild. A deep noise in his throat, something between a groan and a growl, before he was pulling back, both hands slipping down your body.

He started at your chest, large hands cupping around and plump tits in his hands, groping tightly until you keened up into him with a whine, your hips rolling to meet his movements as he kept them going. You could barely breathe, the weight of your oncoming peak was crushing you, while burning you from the inside out and as though he had sensed it, he slowed down, barely moving now, letting you fuck yourself against him as you tried to coax him into action, but it was of no use.

Dipping down, he caught one stuff nipple between his teeth, a light nip that made you cry out, a sound that was high-pitched and sharp as your head spun, sense and focus fading away as your vision grew fuzzy, walls clamping around him. His mouth closed further over your breast, sucking the supple flesh into his mouth, teeth grazing soft skin as his tongue lapped leisurely at the buds that were standing taut for him, and he knew exactly how to press all of your buttons, years of experience working well for him. The other hand furthered your pleasure by toying with the mound on the other side of your chest, skilled fingers tugging and taunting until you couldn't take it anymore.

Your second orgasm of the night, spurred on simply by his obsession with your breasts, and yet it hadn't been the first time he would make you come simply by playing with them, and it wouldn't be the last.

“So reactive for me, sweetheart. How do you feel, hm?”

He pulled away, chin and cheeks a little shin from his own spit, a cold breeze sweeping over your chest, and he dipped down, giving the other the same treatment, without quite as much ferocity, and you could barely form words as you tried to reply, to tell him how good he always made you feel, but there wasn’t any competent ability left within you.

“Oh, have I fucked all the sense out of your pretty little head, huh?” You could only nod, watching as his ego inflated a little more before your very sights, his eyes sparkling with mischief and chest puffing out. One hand dragged along your stomach as he sat back fully, fingers spreading out across your stomach, his gaze following, and you grinned, watching as he did so. “How about I fuck something into you, huh?”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He bit down on his lip, his cock pulsing within you, and you longed to know just what kind of images were going through his head that had garnered a reaction like that, and soon, his mouth was opening to spill it all to you, without you even needing to ask; “Thinkin’ ‘bout how pretty you’d look all swelled up with my baby in you, tits getting bigger, ready to feed our kid. Prettiest mom on the whole damn block, you’d be. All mine, making our family, one of these next Christmases, maybe they’ll be little feet wandering around, or you’ll be all around, ready to pop, give me a son or daughter, huh?”

“That what you want? You wanna’ put a baby in here, huh?” For emphasis, you squeezed around him, a threatening sound making itself known as a warning glare was mixed upon you, one that only fueled the inferno raging within you as you teetered on the building of your next peak. “Big talk, think you can live up to the hype? Been months now, you still haven’t knocked me up, Tommy. Better get to it.”

“You’re circling dangerous ground, baby. Better watch your fuckin’ mouth.” He hissed, leaning back over you, a dark look stitching into his features and you shrugged, trying to calm your heart as it threatened to break your ribs and burst right out of your chest.

“I don’t know, I’m just saying. Maybe, you’re not fucking me good enough.”

“Oh, I’m gonna’ show you who fucks good enough. I don’t want you to be able to walk or talk after this, I want your throat so torn up your attitude is kept inside.” Red flushed along his face, right down to his neck, and excitement was bursting through your body. With rough hands on your hips that would leave dotted bruises on your flesh come morning, you were flipped over, your stomach pressing into the bedding.

You gasped, his hands smoothing up along your back, before he was leaning over you, dripping and wet cock pressed to your thigh as he pinned you down to the bed. Hot breath washed over your cheek, before he was biting lightly on your earlobe, the bed dipping on either side of you as he knelt over you, and you pushed back into him. Rolling your hips up, he growled a little, pressing you back down into the bed even more.

“Behave, sweetheart, or I’m not letting you come until you’re crying for it.”

You stilled, going stiff at the simple threat, and he chuckled, pressing a wet kiss to the back of your shoulder, hands tracing up along your arms as he trusted you to keep them in place. Settling behind you, a loud smack was placed to your ass, the skin stinging deliciously as the patch flared up with heat, feeling him palm at the patch as he soothed it over a little, a yelp tearing from you when he repeated the action on the opposite side without warning, and you bit down on your lip just to muffle the sounds.

Your hips were pulled up, before hands on your shoulders were following, pulling you up until you were kneeling before him, a hand smoothing around your waist. He patted lightly at your stomach, rubbing over it carefully. His hands then dipped further down, two fingers parting your folds, rubbing lightly at the button nestled between your thighs, and your hips jumped up into his hand, a shaky sound emitted from you.

“C’mon, Tommy, it’s Christmas. Stop teasing me.”

“Okay, sweetheart, since you asked so nicely.” He mumbled, fingers dragging up your body, wet trails of your own arousal left on your skin, before he was slipping them between your lips. You sucked tightly, the taste of your own slick covering your tongue as you lapped at the digits, cleaning them off as he hummed happily into your ear, chin hooked over your shoulder. Your hand slipped down between your bodies, lining him up behind you, before he was easing into you.

His groan in your ear was drowned out by the loud mewls that you let out, fluttering and overly sensitive walls welcoming him back, gripping onto him tightly as he sank his full length within you. The second he was within you, his fingers were leaving your mouth, pushing you back down until your cheek was flush to the bedding, fingers digging into the blanket and nails threatening to tear at it as he wasted no time.

Hips snapping into your own, a bruising pace that would leave you with that ache between your thighs that always made you shake in the morning to follow as you remembered the way that he’d fucked you into oblivion. The sounds you were making were sure to be echoing off of every wall in the house, your throat raw, and you pushed back into him each time, trying to meet his motions, but the pace he was setting was far too fast, and your movements were sloppy in comparison. Your chest was tightening, every muscle in your body going stiff, and your fingers became fists as you tried to hold out a little longer, to not give in as quickly as you thought you might.

You could feel him nearing his edge, the husk of his voice getting a little deeper, cracking each time he edged closer to his own orgasm, his cock throbbing within your walls as he fucked you into the bed. One hand tangled in your hair, tugging at the roots as he pulled back your head, screams loud and uninterrupted for him to hear.

“That’s right, baby, nice and loud.” He tugged you back even further, a sharp cry in pain that made everything go into overdrive, before your back was pressing to his chest. One hand came to seal around your throat. Squeezing lightly, your noises cut off, going silent in your throat as your vision spotted. “Tell me again, baby, who doesn’t fuck you good enough?”

Your mouth opened again, no sounds coming out, simple squeals as he loosened his grip a little. The other hand was on your waist, gripping so hard that the area was beginning to tingle, blunt nails pressing into your skin, and your climax began washing over you. Your jaw going slack, your eyes rolled back as your head sat on his shoulder, and your screams had gone completely silent as white heat shot through your body. Every nerve lit up in your body, like fireworks going off in your core. He didn’t stop there, fingers slipping down to rub at your clit, your body jerking in his grip as broken gasps spilt out.

Sparks ran all along your body, tears lining your eyes as he abused the bud with his rapid-paced motions, and a scream tore from you as that same climax became doubly as strong, bliss taking you over as you felt boneless. He didn’t let up, not until your cheeks were wet and you were going limp in his arms, legs slick from your gushing arousal. When you couldn't take it anymore, crying in his grasp, he let you go, your entire body quivering while you settled on the mattress. His cock slipped from you for only a second as you were turned over in his arms.

He all but collapsed down on top of you, face pressed into your neck, chest pressed up to yours and you could feel his heart thudding against his chest and straight through to your own. With a few final thrusts, weak and desperate, he stiffened, ribbons of hot cum pumping out with your walls, making you whimper just at the feeling that would never be anything other than otherworldly bliss as he filled you to the brim.

“Fucking hell, I’ll never get used to that.” He mumbled, words muffled by where he was still pressed up against you, nose nuzzling into your hair, and your arms wrapped around him. He hissed a little, feeling your fingers smoothing along his body and brushing over the raw rips along his flesh, made by your nails in the heat of pleasure.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s hot as hell.” He teased, making to roll over when he felt you trying to laugh underneath him, and you squeaked as he took you with him, rolling your exhausted body up and on top of him. His hands found your hips, holding you down firmly onto him when you wiggled back towards the bedding. “Where do you think you’re going, huh?”

“Preferably onto the cool blankets. I love you, but you’re hot and sweaty, and so am I.” You mumbled, pressing yourself up over him, and his hands ran up and down your sides lightly, shrugging as he did. His hair was messy, skin flushed and shining with sweat, accompanied by swollen lips, looking like pure sin as he lounged beneath you.

“Nuh-uh, angel. I told you I was going to fuck a baby into you, and we’re not letting a drop go. Stay right where you are, keepin’ my cock nice and warm, and keeping you full of cum.” As if to emphasise his point, he tugged you down into him, and you chuckled as you found yourself leaning against a slightly sticky shoulder, nails scratching at the hairs on his chest as you tried to catch your breath properly. “Guess I gave you another kind of white Christmas, huh?”

You couldn’t contain your laughs, your body shaking a little above him as the pair of you snickered at his joke, yours out of exhausted embarrassment and his out of genuine humour and pride. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

“Hm, I didn’t marry you for your bad jokes, they were just an addition that I got burdened with.” You teased, a light spank landing on your ass, before both hands were settling on your cheeks, squeezing lightly, before he was jiggling gently, entertaining himself with those basic actions, your cheeks heating up and eyes rolling a little. “Having fun there?”

“A lot, actually. I love your ass.”

“Yes, well, not that I’m not used to it, but how long do you want me to lay here?” You mumbled, hand smoothing out over his chest, slipping around to sit on his side over his ribs instead, and snuggling down a little more to get comfortable.

“Just ‘til you’re pregnant.”

“Oh, great.” You teased, finding him puffing his chest up underneath of you, one of your fingers ping at his chest. “Excited to be a daddy?”

His half-hard cock twitched within you interestedly, and he groaned. “Don’t you dare ruin that word for me.”

“Which word?” You mused, one hand on his cheek, kissing along his stubbled jaw, up to his ear, licking lightly at the shell as he trembled under your touch. “Do you mean ‘daddy’?”

“Baby, please, stop it!” He whined a little, and you hummed, before pressing back a little along him, his length hardening with you as your hips rocked back into his own. He grunted, hold tightening on your body, but never stopping you, letting you rock back into him. Your clit was pressed up to his pelvis from this angle, a perfect friction for every grind, and he whined a little when you propped yourself up even more.

Nails digging into his chest, he stared up at you, tits bouncing and skin glowing in the dull light of the room, hair messy to match his, and you felt beautiful under his stare, watching as he licked at his lips, jaw gaping and eyes scanning along your body.

He eventually settled on the place where the two of you were connected, the simple rolls of your hips becoming more, as you settled into your position of riding his cock, bouncing up and down along his length, and beads of creamy cum leaked from you as you did. You could feel it, the mixtures of both of your arousals leaking from your body, a stick messy dotting the dark hairs curled at his base, before he was reaching a hand down, thumb pressing loosely to your clit, making bored motions as his other hand reached out.

You knew exactly what he wanted, the way his lips puckered, hips thrusting up to meet yours as he grew lazy underneath you, his eyes hooded and dark, a smirk on his lips, before he was bringing your mouth down to his.

Sloppy kisses that barely met the mark as such, his teeth dragging over your lips, tongues clashing and tangling together in wet knots as you moaned into his mouth, sounds quietened by one another as the sounds of teenage-style making out filled the room instead.

It was messy, and filthy, and completely effortless, but as you shook above him, a much lighter climax washing through your body, the final bit of energy that you had being spent, he chased after you, giving you what last he had, until it was dribbling out of you.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He whispered, never letting up on his kisses, rolling you over a little as you tried to pull away to catch your breath, his mouth following in an unceasing assault against your own, giggles filling the air as he did. One leg hooked over his hip, the other flattening out, and he let you lay down at last. Pushing him away with one hand, he finally did as told, cock slipping from you, making out whimper a little at the soreness you craved finally being present, and you tried to roll away from the bed.

He reached out, with no energy left, his hand coming into contact with the bedding instead as you stood up. His eyes follow you though, a ridiculous boasting look glimmering in them as he watched his cum drip down your skin, barely being properly cleaned up by the handfuls of tissues you used.

You hadn't even made it two steps away from the bed, before he was reaching out, yanking you back down into the bed beside him, so that he could lay his head across your chest and wrap you up in his arms.

“Tommy, let me up.” You giggled, poking at the man who was half splayed out across you, the covers pulled up loosely over your bodies, pooled around his waist, and he grunted with discontent when your fingers stopped running along his back, nails dragging at his skin soothingly, to instead push at his shoulders. “Thomas!”

“Mh, no. I’m comfy, you’re warm.” His words were whispered, eyes fluttering a little, and you groaned, using all the strength you had to push him off of you and roll him over, placing a pillow to his chest as he reached out to latch onto you. He cracked an eye open when he felt the bed dip, watching as you edged toward the door, feet hitting the ground. “Where’re y’ goin’?”

“I love it when you get clingy and sleepy.” You teased, leaning back down to peck his lips, before making your way to the drawers, grabbing some fresh clothes for yourself, he made a grabbing motion at you, snatching loosely at the clothes you threw to him, catching none of them as they scattered around the messed up bedding around him, and his hand fell back down to the covers. “I have one more present for you.”

“I thought we did all the presents.” He sounded strained, sitting up as you pulled on a robe, tying it at the waist to keep the chill away, and shrugging a shirt onto his shoulders, a tremble running along him in the chill, before reaching for his boxers, watching you inquisitively.

“Well, I had one more. I wanted to do it with our friends, but we didn’t get to, and this gift just wouldn't be the same over the camera. We can tell them at New Years.”

“What does that mean?” There was a playful curiosity in his voice now, and you winked, backing out of the door, and making your way through to the bathroom, and into the cabinet where you kept all of your feminine products, a place Thomas only ever entered upon your request, to retrieve the secret little bag stuffed with wrapping paper that lay within. “Baby, what does that mean?”

“Have some patience!” You yelled back, wiping up a packet of tissues as you went, before padding back along the cool floorboards to the warmed carpet of the bedroom, jiggling it a little at him. He was sitting up now, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to shake himself awake, and you moved to kneel beside his legs, clutching onto it and placing the tissues down onto the bed beside you.

“Is it messy?”

“What?”

He took the package, ribbon on top sealing it shut, and he nodded his head to the packet you’d put down. “The tissues; is it messy? Oh, is it flavoured condoms?” He smirked, your jaw dropping a little as you laughed.

“Would you want to open a packet of flavoured condoms in front of your friends at Christmas Day dinner?”

He cringed, shaking his head. “Okay, you got me. I’m at a loss. Can I open it?”

You nodded, thumb flicking under the packet of the tissues to open them up, watching as he nimbly undid the ribbons, and you pulled one of the soft, folded papers out. Parting the sides of the bag, he stared inside, a single object sitting within, and he squinted at it for a moment as he tried to decipher what he was holding, and what exactly it was said, before his eyes widened.

He flipped it over in his hands, holding it carefully now within two fingers, dropped jaw and watering eyes, before finally looking up to you. “You win.”

“Told you I would.”

“You win this year, you win next year, you just won every Christmas for the rest of our lives.”

“I know.” You teased, watching as a tear dropped from his eye, wiping it away gently, and he trembled a little, bringing his hand up to your wrist to pull your hand away from his face, tugging you in closer.

“It’s real?”

“You think I’d fake it?” You joked, your own eyes watering, and he let out a breathless and shaky laugh.

“And you’re totally sure?”

“I had an appointment the other week to confirm it, they called a few days ago. One hundred percent positive.” He was crying again, snatching the tissues from your hand to instead pull you closer, a needy kiss pressed to your lips, as he tried to calm himself down, to bring himself to earth, and wet cheeks slid against your own, a smile on his lips despite trying to kiss you.

“I’m going to be a dad?”

“Yeah, baby. This is the start of our family.” He pushed you back, rolling you into the bedding as the packaging and gifts were discarded. He pecked your lips one final time, before he was tugging at the knots on the front of your robe and lifting your shirt, hands pressing over your stomach lightly.

His fingers were smoothing over your skin, featherlight touches, complete awe on his face as he stared down at your torso, and he grinned widely, dipping down to kiss at your navel lightly. “I love you so much, little one. I already know you’ll be amazing.”

“It’s about the size of  a grain of rice right now, Tommy.” You laughed a little as his hands smoothed around to your sides, cheek pressing to your stomach as he laid down, and your fingers wove into his hair lightly.

“I don’t care, I love them. Boy or girl, whoever they become, they’re perfect.”

“Merry Christmas, Thomas.” You whispered, his eyes meeting yours, chin balanced on your flesh, and he smiled, a kind of content softness that only you ever got to see.

“Merry Christmas, my love.” He turned back, nose nuzzling at your stomach. “And, Merry Christmas to you, little one.”

#thomas #thomas x reader #thomas x reader smut #thomas/reader #thomas/reader smut #12 Days of AUmas #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien thomas #dylan obrien the maze runner #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader smut

[duskholland]

The Fame Game (Part Three) || Tom Holland

Summary ↠ Sleepovers are supposed to be fun, but perhaps not when they include your fake boyfriend. 

Word count ↠ 4.5k

Warnings ↠ Alcohol, some bad language, Tom’s shirtless? And also a lil bit jealous

A/N ↠ I decided that Y/N is in Stranger Things because... Joe Keery. You’re welcome. This was a fun part to write! Thank you so much to everyone that’s been loving on this series - makes my heart very very happy to know it’s being read and enjoyed :’) Please let me know what you think of this part! (This picks up directly after part two just with a pov shift)

Series masterpost

THREE: What’s Mine Is Yours (Y)

The studio lights burn your eyes painfully, and your throat has been stinging distantly of tequila ever since you took the first shot. 

Jimmy’s been sending you question after question, analysing and picking apart every aspect of your ‘relationship’ with Tom for the past five minutes. So far, you and Tom have answered with your stories aligned, and you thank yourself for having the stroke of genius to go over some essential details with him before the show. If you’d just come out here and winged it, as he had foolishly suggested, you know you would’ve tripped up by now. 

It’s all going as expected, until near the end of the interview when Tom’s words split through the air and shock you completely:

“Well, chemistry is a very important part of any relationship, Jimmy, and you know what they say: enemies make the best lovers.”

Enemies make the best lovers..?

Even as the conversation moves on, you feel the words lingering in your mind. Tom’s been playing the role of your doting boyfriend very well all evening, but there has been something a little too earnest about his eyes and his remarks, and it’s left you feeling… odd. Exposed, perhaps. He’s out here claiming that enemies make the perfect foundation to a loving relationship, and though you’re almost certain it was a throwaway comment, you can’t stop yourself from over-analysing it.

“Well, thank you to both of you for joining us tonight,” Jimmy says finally, dragging you from your stupor. “It’s been a pleasure, as always. I wish the happy couple all the best!” 

You’re nestled up very close to Tom on the sofa. His hand is on your knee, and you’ve got your arm wrapped around his side. You hadn’t discussed any of this beforehand, but you’d followed his lead when he’d first stretched out his palm. Casual displays of intimacy, according to your PR team, are everything, and it’s been almost nice to have his fingers resting on your leg, acting as a grounding presence. Any time you said something a little risky, he’d squeeze your knee - and you likewise would use your hand on his side to pinch him gently, like a reminder to stop talking whenever he came close to slipping up. 

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Tom says. He looks around to face you, his brown eyes warm and round. “We’ve had a great time.”

You nod along and pull your hand away from Tom’s side as you sit up a little straighter. “Yeah, it’s been amazing.”

Jimmy throws out a few final farewells, and the audience descends into applause. As the bright sign that reads LIVE flickers out, the cameras stop rolling. Almost immediately, you feel lighter. With a loud groan, you stretch your arms out behind your head and collapse back into the sofa, your posture sagging. Besides you, Tom mirrors you, his legs spreading and his knee knocking against yours as you glance over and share a cautious smile.

“That went well, didn’t it?” You ask quietly. Jimmy’s wandered off, and around you, people are rolling up cables and wires. You can feel the eyes of some of the audience on you, so you reach down to play with his hand. Tom lets you fiddle with his fingers, and you gulp as you draw your fingertips across his soft skin.

“Yeah,” Tom agrees. His eyebrows furrow together as he looks at you curiously. “What was the question you answered with Harrison?” 

You scoff. “That’s a secret.”

You’d almost died when you’d read the card. As much as you’d disliked the prospect of doing a shot, the question had read ‘Which of Tom’s friends would you consider dating?’. Though you feel no romantic attraction towards Harrison, he’s the only one of Tom’s friends you know. You couldn’t admit it to Tom live, because PR would have had your head, but you don’t particularly want to fess up now, either. 

Tom’s always been a bit weird about your friendship with Harrison, and you don’t want to add more strain to your relationship. Maybe a month ago you would’ve loved to have another thing to rub in Tom’s face, but now things are changing. Your relationship is beyond twisted as it is, and much to your surprise, you no longer feel the burning need to exacerbate that - not now you know you’ll be tied to his side for the next five months. For all you thrive off Tom’s discomfort, it’s starting to take a toll. 

Tom pouts, but there’s an intense heat to it. “Tell me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

You roll your eyes. “What was your first question?” You return. “The one that you replied to by saying I’m stubborn?”

Tom groans, and the illusion of him being a doting, sweet boyfriend shatters. A part of you is relieved he’s back to normal as he glares at you. Tom has been too nice to you this evening, and it was becoming a little unsettling.

“I won’t tell you mine unless you tell me yours,” he barters. Tom looks down at your joined hands and loops your fingers together, leaning in closer on the sofa so he can drop his voice. The strong waves of his cologne drift out over you, causing your mind to spin. “Oh, come on, girlfriend, we were getting on so well, just tell me? Please?” He even flutters his eyelashes.

You chuckle in the face of his charm. “No way.”

Tom pulls away, his jaw flexing. He drops your fingers dramatically. “Fine. Be like that.” He stands up quickly, but then he pauses and begrudgingly offers you a hand, his eyes skimming the busy room. He, like you, seems to recognise there is a time and place for your petty bickering. “Let me escort you backstage,” he says, voice dry and monotonous. 

You sigh heavily. “You’re so annoying,” you tell him, accepting his hand. He helps you up with a strong grip, your fingers tangling together easily. “I almost bought the act that you were actually a decent guy tonight, y’know?”

Tom keeps your hands together as you slowly walk backstage. “I almost bought yours,” he returns, his voice quiet. “I suppose we’re both good actors, aren’t we?”

You set your mouth in a firm line. “I suppose we are.”

You don’t see him for a while, and for that, you’re very grateful. For a few weeks, it seems PR are satisfied with a few teasing tweets here and there, and you enjoy the freedom of living Tom-free again. It really is quite disruptive, having to parade around with him, and lie when your friends and family question you about him. It’s quick to grow tiresome as you have to explain, over and over, that, no, you don’t hate him - love just happened!! Yeah, he’s great! Oh, you always thought there was something going on between us? Haha. Hah. That’s so funny. 

It’d be so much easier, you think, if you and Tom got along better. But you know the only way that’ll happen is if one of you apologies to the other, and you’re still too fucking angry about everything to let your walls come down. Your history spans three poisonous years, and you aren’t willing to start lowering your defences for fear of him using that against you. You’d rather suffer through several more months of torture with Tom than show any sort of regret or remorse. You will not be the first to place your cards on the table, which lands you in a difficult position because you know he isn’t the type to concede either. You’re so similar it almost hurts. 

About a month after the show, you’re on set when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you pick up the small device to see Rebecca’s name flashing over the screen. With a sigh, you quickly answer. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi Y/N, it’s Rebecca. I hope you’re doing well.” There’s a brief pause, then, “So, we need you to do something for us tonight.”

You reach up to pinch at the bridge of your nose. “Always straight to the point, aren’t you?” 

Your PR manager laughs. “Time is precious,” she reasons. “Anyway, we’ve been monitoring your socials. People find it odd that you’ve not posted anything with Tom, and we’ve realised that there is a shortage of photos of you both together.”

You hum. “Yeah, I don’t think we’ve ever had a photo together where it looks like we actually like one another.”

“Exactly. That’s a problem.”

“Great.”

“We’ve been in contact with Tom. He’s going to pick you up once you’re done on set, and then come and stay the night with you. You’ll be spotted entering your apartment together, and he’ll be seen leaving in the morning. Whilst you’re together, if you can try and take some photos, that’d be great. Try to build up a backlog of different shots, so you have some in reserves for the future.”

You throw your head back, biting back a dramatic groan. “He’s coming over tonight?” You clarify.

Rebecca sighs. “Yes, Y/N. Is that okay?” 

“I suppose.” 

“Perfect. He’ll pick you up from set at 5.”

The line disconnects and you put your phone away, trying not to think about how easily your quiet evening plans have been whipped away. You’re called back to set almost immediately, and that provides you with a perfect distraction. You slip on your mask, sinking into a different character, and you let all your worries and irritations fade away.

When Tom rocks up to set, you’re still filming. You catch him from the corner of your eye as you act opposite your co-star Joe Keery, carrying your banter perfectly. You love Joe - love the fact that both of you are wearing matching sailor costumes and somehow manage to rock them, and that your scenes always flow together very nicely. You’re having a great time together, and you feel sad when the director calls out a final Cut! and the cameras stop.

“Great scene, Y/N,” Joe compliments, reaching out to pat your shoulder. 

You smile back at him, nodding lightly. “You too!” You say. “I’m going to miss filming with you.”

Joe nods, whipping the sailor hat from his head and running a hand through his long hair. “Me too,” he agrees, mouth curving into a frown, “Who else would dress up in these stupid costumes with me and not make fun of me?”

You laugh, but before you can form a full reply, you feel a figure lingering behind you. You tilt your head and see Tom there, and then feel his warm hands slip around your waist. It all happens so quickly - one moment he’s whispering hi, the next his fingers are wrapped around you and yours are on his shoulders, then he’s kissing you quickly. It’s just a peck, but it completely blindsides you, and you’re still recovering when he pulls back and looks at Joe.

“Hi, mate, I’m Tom,” he greets, his voice artificial and loud. “Y/N’s boyfriend.”

You look between them, your heart hammering in your chest as you retract your hands and let them fall to your side. Tom immediately links your fingers together.

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” Joe replies, eyeing you sceptically. He raises his eyebrows slightly as he accepts Tom’s free hand, and they shake slowly.

“All good things, I hope, eh?” Tom replies, glancing over to you. You raise your eyebrows, trying to figure out what he’s doing, but he just grins slyly in response.

“Eh, sure,” Joe says. Your friend rocks back on his feet, and you’re briefly reminded of the many, many occasions where you’d stormed onto set and ran your mouth about Tom. “Well, I’m gonna go now. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He raises a hand.

“Bye, Joe. Have a nice night.” 

As soon as Joe’s slipped out of sight, you turn your attention to Tom.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, voice higher and quieter than usual. You pull your hand from his grasp, and it drifts up to your mouth, to where your lips are still feeling the aftershocks of the kiss. You stare at him through wide eyes. He’s in a lovely blue denim jacket today, and it contrasts brightly against his short styled hair and his deep brown eyes.

“Greeting my girlfriend?” Tom replies. He looks a little bashful as he folds his arms across his chest. “Is that a problem?”

Fuck, you hadn’t missed him at all.

“You kissed me,” you state. 

“Briefly,” he agrees, “We’re in public, Y/N. It would’ve been weird if I hadn’t done anything. Plus…”

“Plus?”

Tom grimaces. “It felt a bit odd to see you so close to him.” He pauses, his face the picture of discomfort. “I didn’t like it.”

“You have got to be kidding, Tom,” you mutter, eyes widening. “Are you seriously being like this because I touched his arm? He’s my friend, dickhead.” You scrunch up your nose, eyeing him sourly. “You don’t have any right to act territorially, Tom. We aren’t actually dating.” 

“Right.” Tom tentatively reaches up, and you let him place his hand on your cheek. It feels almost like an apology, and you find the lines of irritation melting from your face. As his fingertips gently trail across your cheekbone, your lips pull into a small smile. “I’m sorry if I took you off-guard,” he says, surprising you completely. You’d never thought you’d see the day he owned up to one of his actions. “I won’t kiss you again unless we talk about it first.”

You swallow drily, trying not to enjoy the way it feels to have his touch skating over your face so smoothly. 

“Good,” you agree. You rock back on your feet and sigh defeatedly. “We should go.”

It’s a little after 7pm by the time you get home. You make light, superficial conversation with Tom in the car as you put up with his chiding remarks about your driving, and by the time you walk through your front door, you feel frazzled.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting visitors,” you mutter as you walk into your living room and take a view of the mess. 

“It’s fine.” Tom places his bag down on the sofa and looks around, greedy eyes taking in the details of your apartment. “It’s nice here.”

“Thanks.” You look around at your apartment, smiling quietly to yourself. The building is in downtown LA, right in the centre of things, and it wasn’t at all cheap, but over the years you’ve spent hidden away within the walls, you’ve made it feel like home. You’ve added character by tacking up a variety of posters, plants, and other fun keepsakes. “Do you want to order food? I don’t really want to cook.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tom pulls out his phone and glances up at you, face illuminated by the screen. “What do you want?”

“Thai?”

He pulls a face. “How about Chinese?”

You scrunch your nose up. “Thai?” You try again.

Tom bites his lower lip, his fingers moving over the screen. “Is it nice?” He asks you. 

“You’ve never had Thai before?”

He looks up at you, shrugging haplessly. “Nope.”

“Yes, it’s nice.” 

Tom surprises you by holding out his phone. “Pick something for me?” He asks. “Something good, though.”

You chuckle softly, accepting the phone and scrolling through the app. “I can’t promise you’ll like it, but I think you should.” You add a few things to the order before tossing it back. You dig your hands into your jean pockets and hesitate. “I’m gonna take a shower. Do you want me to show you the guest room?” You ask, eyeing up the hefty bag Tom had brought with him. 

“That would be nice.”

You’re quick to show Tom his room, and then you’re off through the shower. You’d been called to set for 7am, and the hot, pulsing water soothes away the tired ache in your muscles. The scent of fresh lavender clings to your skin as you dry yourself off and then collapse into a loose pair of leggings and a nice hoodie. You feel more like yourself as you stare into your reflection in the mirror now. You love acting, and you love being someone else, but you feel safest as you are right now: bare, authentic, yourself.

You’re so relaxed that you almost forget Tom’s staying over until you walk into the living room and see him sprawled out on one of your sofas, phone in hand. He cranes his face back to look at you as he hears you, his eyes drifting lazily over your figure.

“Food will be an hour,” he tells you sadly. 

“Great,” you grumble. You walk into your kitchen, looking over at him from across the open counter. “Do you want any wine?”

“Fuck yeah.” 

You snicker as you start to pour out two glasses of rosé. “So how do you want to go about taking these photos?” You ask tentatively. 

“Well, they made me bring a few different outfit changes,” Tom starts, speaking slowly, “So I guess we should just… Move about a bit and take some pictures together.”

It’s awkward as you walk back into the living room and hand him his wine glass. “Cheers,” you mutter, tipping the rim of the glass against his. A piercing ring fades across the room, and you share a despondent look with Tom.

“Cheers indeed, love.”

It’s uncomfortable until the wine kicks in, at which point the staged photographs come together a lot easier. 

You start off with a few simple candids around your apartment. You take some of Tom pretending to make some tea, and then of him standing out on your balcony overlooking the city. He changes out his shirts and hoodies every few shots, as instructed by PR, so you’ll have a more comprehensive selection of photos to post in the future. It grows quite amusing after a while as you both try to out-Vogue the another, and once the air is full of your endless laughter, you find yourself relaxing. 

When he’s satisfied with the number of candids he’s got of you, Tom suggests you get a little closer and try to get some more intimate, couple-y pics, “‘for the ‘gram, yeah?” This is when you run into a problem.

“I haven’t done this in so long,” you find yourself admitting as you sit beside Tom in your bed. You’ve slipped into a pyjama shirt, and Tom’s settled beside you. 

“Had an incredibly handsome actor in bed with you?” He returns, eyes sparkling mischievously. This evening he’s been very cheeky with you, and you have to admit you’re warming up to it. 

“Haha,” you say drily, rolling your eyes. You puff up your pillows and settle against the headboard. “Taken any photos with a romantic interest,” you clarify.

Tom pulls off his shirt easily, balling it up and throwing it across the room. You startle at this sudden action, your eyes drifting down to the defined lines of his abs. Tom is stacked. His lips curve into a smirk.

“Well, today’s your lucky day,” he teases, causing you to scoff. He opens up his arms, and you settle into them gently, aiming for a sleepy, lazy, we-woke-up-like-this vibe. Your head finds his chest, and your cheek presses against his warm skin comfortably. “Smile.”

He takes a few photos of you together, posing as a lovestruck couple, and as the seconds pass by, you melt further into him. You hadn’t realised how cold you were until Tom opened his arms and let you in, but now it’s as if you were freezing before the first touch. He’s got his hand resting on your side, and you feel his mouth linger above your forehead, hesitating. 

“Can I kiss your face?” He mumbles softly, “Might make it look more realistic.”

You hum quietly, closing your eyes as you wrap yourself further around his torso. “Sure. Can I kiss your chest?” You ask boldly, spurred on a little by the woozy heat that smothers your mind.

You hear Tom’s breath hitch, and find yourself holding yours until he mutters, quietly, “Yeah.”

You let him have his fun first, and try to remain as nonchalant as possible as you feel his lips fluttering out across your forehead. He leaves a delicate trail of kisses from temple to temple, caressing your skin slowly, softly, with his warm mouth. You realise with a soft epiphany that you don’t mind being in this position: Tom’s peppering your face in gentle kisses, holding you close in his bare arms - and it’s quite nice. And maybe… Maybe he’s quite nice, too. Sometimes.

Tom’s hand smoothes over your hair, and you tilt your head until you’re able to scatter a few short kisses across his chest. You can hear the small clicks coming from his phone, and you really drag it out, enjoying the press of his supple pale skin against your mouth. It warms you up, sets a tingle flaming through your lips. 

“There,” you say, finally dragging yourself away from him. “Do you think we’ve done enough?” 

Tom hums, watching you closely as you sit up from his chest. His arm retracts from your side, and the air between you clears. “Yeah. I’ll send them to PR and see what they say.” He messes around on his phone for a few minutes, but you stay exactly where you are - shrouded in duvet and blankets and lingering near his body heat. Your eyelids flutter shut as you relax, your peace lasting until he asks, slowly, “When was the last time you dated anyone?”

You pry open an eye, looking at him curiously. “Eh, it’s been a while. Almost a year since there was anyone serious.” You look up at him, your head resting easily on the pillow. “Why?”

“Just realised I don’t know that much about you, really,” Tom replies. He slips down the bed until he’s lying beside you, and both of you move onto your sides to face one another. He looks quiet and unassuming like this - tufts of brown hair pushed messily around his forehead, with a warm expression hanging from his lips. It’s an odd look to be directed towards you. 

“Yeah,” you hum. You let a small smile find your lips. “I don’t know much about you either.”

The sheets rustle as Tom moves a little closer. “Do you… want to know more about me?” He asks gently.

You swallow. You can taste the wine on your tongue, and you wonder why you can only seem to get along with him when you’re tipsy. 

“Yeah,” you admit. “Maybe it’d be easier to do this if we weren’t always so…”

“Horrible?”

You bite your lip as you nod. “Yeah. We can be pretty mean.”

“Why do we do that?” Tom muses, his cheeks nice and flushed.

“I don’t know.”

Tom reaches out beneath the covers, and his hand finds yours softly. He links your fingers together, and you look into his eyes intently. You find only warmth and sincerity staring back at you. 

“Maybe we should try to be less hostile to each other,” he suggests. 

Briefly, your mind rewinds to that day at the park, all those weeks ago, and how Tom had dramatically announced that the thought of being your friend repulsed him. It surprises you to hear this change of heart, but you realise you’re in the same boat. A lot has changed since then. 

“Okay,” you find yourself agreeing. “I’d be down to try that.”

“Okay.”

You share a small smile, and it seems to last a lifetime. For a while, it’s just you and Tom, buried in your bed together, hands clasped, breathing in sync, and it’s nice.

Eventually, food comes, and you convince Tom to watch one of your favourite films in your living room. You settle on separate sofas, but you’re able to make some light-hearted conversation. He even jokes around with you. It feels nice - but also too good to be true. 

As you sober up, you find yourself looking at him sceptically. No matter how welcome the thought that things between you are slowly mending might be, you don’t trust Tom, and that’s not about the change overnight. He’s an actor, and you wouldn’t put it past him to be pulling your leg - drawing you into this rouse, only later to turn around and pull the rug from beneath you, and laugh at you for believing that he’d want to be your friend. Your perception of him has been skewed so negatively for so long that it’s hard to believe he’s actually being nice - even if on your end, the softening is genuine. 

But you let yourself believe it, just for the night. You throw popcorn at him, and laugh together, and finish the bottle of wine over dinner. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Tom calls out, resting up against the door of the spare room. He’s caught you coming from the bathroom. He’s shirtless again, grey sweats hanging low from his hips, and you can’t stop your eyes from shamelessly tracing the curve of his v-line. “Not going to give your boyfriend a goodnight kiss?”

You roll your eyes, but you find yourself walking over to him. “You’re so fucking cheeky, Tom,” you mutter, amused. You press your hand to his shoulder and lean up to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight,” you say, eyeing him firmly.

Tom’s eyes dance with a thousand different emotions, and he dives in to kiss your cheek in return. “Night, love.”

You raise a hand in farewell and turn away before he can see the huge, embarrassing grin on your face. 

When you wake up, it’s to silence and a slightly sore head. Your clock reads 8.22 AM, and you amble towards the kitchen. 

You decide to extend towards Tom an olive branch - a cup of tea - to solidify your newfound… friendship? Amicable arrangement? You don’t know how to label it other than a loosening of your mutual disdain, but you know that whatever the dynamic was last night, it’d been nice. The idea that there’s more to him than the cocky, fronting mask he sometimes wears is pleasant. 

So you make him a cup of tea, and then tentatively walk across to your spare room. You knock quietly, hear nothing, and then gently push your way inside.

The room is empty. Tom is gone. He’s left the bed unmade.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, scrunching your eyebrows together. You glance around and notice he’s taken all of his things, and then walk back into your room to check your phone - no new messages from him.

You sit down on the edge of your bed and sip at the tea you’d painstakingly poured for him. 

Maybe it was too good to be true, and you’d just been stupid to think one tipsy evening together was the start of something new. He’s clearly undergone no change of heart if he’s managed to waltz out without as much as a text goodbye. You feel stupid and angry, but above all disappointed. 

Because for a moment - a brief, hopeful moment - you’d imagined being Tom’s friend, and the prospect had made you feel happy.

↠ NEXT PART

please let me know what you’re thinking!!!! ask box is open :D

taglist can be found in the series masterpost, which is the pinned post at the top of my blog

masterlist linked in my description

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland series #tfg #yeeeeeep !!! #y/n #y/n use #self insert #self-insert

[marvelouspeterparker]

hi idk if you’re comfortable writing this which is totally fine but what if prof!tom and reader argue about something and then the next day one of them try to make the other jealous and then they have a rough sex and cuddle in the end

i’ll make this the alternate version of this fight but if they were a lil more toxic sjfkdhg

read professor’s sweetheart

you and tom could both be petty, and you both knew this. you just couldn’t help yourself. tom was being irrational and not even trying to listen to you. it’s like he wanted to be right––

so, you decided to take matters into your own hands. you were wearing the shirt that he loved––which also happened to be the one you wore when you shared your first kiss in his office. as soon as you walked into his class, you could feel his eyes piercing you, but you paid him no mind, instead going to the one person he didn’t want you to talk to. 

“hi tyler.” you smiled politely, going to sit in the seat next to his for a moment. you really weren’t flirting with him, just asking if he needed any more help with his work. but you knew tom would see and it would only make his blood boil even more––which is exactly what you wanted.

when you were finished talking with him, you walked back over to your seat nonchalantly, taking your sweet time to settle in. you waited until class started to look up, not surprised to find him glaring at you, his jaw clenched. you smirked and crossed your arms, pushing your cleavage together. 

during the whole class you could feel your cunt throbbing between your legs, a wet patch on your panties as you thought about what he would to you. no one else could tell that tom was on edge, but you could see that he was practically a ticking time bomb and you were just waiting for him to blow.

tom finally snapped when he noticed you sucking a lollipop. where you had gotten it from, he had no idea. but as soon as you locked eyes with him as you licked a stripe up the candy just as you would his cock, he stood up abruptly. 

“right well, i’m feeling a little generous today so i’m going to let you all go early today. but i’m going to be busy taking care of something for a bit so don’t come by my office until later.” your eyes widened as he stared you down, everyone rushing off, a few scattered shouts and thank you’s around the room.

you took your time gathering your things, your lollipop still in your mouth as you walked down the stairs slowly. tom quickly took his bag and the rest of his things, looking you up and down and muttering my office, now before briskly walking past you. you took a deep breath and ran after him, trying to hide how excited you were, hastily throwing the candy away in the bin as you ran out––it honestly didn’t taste that good.

he threw his things down as soon as he stepped into his office, pulling you in and setting your things down before pushing you against the door, locking it as he pressed his lips against your eagerly. the kiss was aggressive, possessive and messy. you were breathing in the same air, bodies pressed up against each other, desperately grabbing each other wherever you could. 

“you like pissing me off, sweetheart?” he growled, putting his hand on your neck making you look him in the eye. 

you gave him an almost drunken smile, biting your lip. “of course i do, professor.”

his eyes darkened the way you expected and he kissed you roughly, sliding his leg between yours to press his thigh against your clothed core. you moaned and he licked messily into your open mouth, sucking your tongue before biting your lip and moving his kisses along your jaw. 

“m’gonna fuck you against this door and cover your mouth if i have to, i don’t care.” you shivered, your thighs clenching around his leg and bent down, taking your shoes off before sliding your pants and your underwear off, leaving your shirt––he really did like it. he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and immediately went to work, stuffing his face between your thighs. 

you gasped as he quite literally knocked the air out of you and you grabbed his hair to stable yourself, “oh god––”

he smirked into your heat, flicking his tongue through your folds, hitting all the spots that made your toes curl, his hands gripping you, holding you up and pressing you against the door. “i’m gonna eat my pussy until you’re shaking against this door. got it?”

he didn’t wait for a response before licking into you. with how worked up you were, it didn’t take long for you to reach your peak. your fingers dug into tom’s scalp, making him groan into you, pleasured by the sting. your body convulsed, struggling to stay up, your stomach clenching as your breaths came out in short puffs. “oh my god fuck––”

you gasped once again when his tongue kept going, his arms wrapped around you and locking you in place, his eyes watching you unable to do anything except take the pleasure. 

he didn’t stop until you had cum two more times, your eyes barely open, mouth dropped open. he stood up, a smug smirk on his face as he unbuckled his belt, pulling his hard cock out. he turned you around and you pressed your cheek to the door, both hands resting near your head. he whispered in your ear, rubbing his cock through your messy folds. “you think that little boy would fuck you as good as this, hm?”

he slid into you and you moaned breathlessly as his fingers dug into your waist. “n––no one can fuck me like you tommy.” your eyes fluttered shut as he started thrusting into you, clearly pleased by your answer. “i’m all yours.”

“that’s right.” he started to fuck you harder, pressing his body against you. “this pussy is mine.”

you whined as his hands pulled you back into his hips with every thrust, feeling your next orgasm build up already. “does my cock feel good, baby?” you nodded and he chuckled darkly, “so take it like the good girl you are.” 

you licked your lips, your mind only focusing on his words, the feeling of his body against yours. you were so sensitive.

he kissed your shoulder, fucking you faster, “think you’re gonna cum again baby, can feel you clenching around me.” he paused and you could hear the smirk in his voice, “i know this pussy well, don’t i?” he laughed when you whined and clenched around him again.

“come on, give it to me. cum all over my cock.” he placed his hand over your mouth and your eyes rolled back, your moans muffled as you came. he grunted still pounding into you just as fast, making your legs tremble until he released inside of you, filling you up. you sighed behind his hand and he pressed his lips to your back to quiet his moans. 

his hand slid away from your mouth and down your back. his eyes focused in on where you two were connected, sliding in and out slowly a few times, relishing in the way you whined. 

he pulled out slowly and turned you around, kissing you softly. he walked the two of you to the couch, without disconnecting your lips, sitting down and pulling you on top of him. 

you placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled away to look at him, a sheepish smile on your face. “hi.”

he licked his lips, looking up at you adoringly. “hi, darling.” he ran his hands up and down your back, under you shirt. “i wasn’t too rough, was i?”

you shook your head, “no,” you kissed him softly and he smiled appreciatively. “i liked it a lot.” you ran your hands up to his hair, smiling when he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering slightly. 

“your next class isn’t for a few hours, right?” when you nodded he went on, “do you wanna stay in here for now? just wanna hold you.” 

you smiled, “yeah, but––” you raised yourself and grabbed his cock before slipping him back in, making the both of you sigh, his grip tightening around you. “okay,” you got comfortable and put your head on his shoulder. “now i’m good.” 

he kissed your forehead and you looked up at him innocently, making his heart swell. “is this okay?”

he sunk further into to the couch, holding you. “s’perfect.” 

#queue tell em #professor's sweetheart extras #professor!tom holland #professor!tom holland x reader #professor!tom holland smut #professor!tom holland smut blurb #professor!tom holland blurb #tom holland blurb #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland smut blurb #dom!tom holland #dom!professor!tom holland

[aiiwa]

LET HIM KNOW — SAWAMURA DAICHI.

✗ REQUEST: can i please make a request of jealous daichi ( a fic if it’s possible). this thought has been living in my head for the past week and i just 🤰. so basically daichi gets jealous of a boy talking to you and flirting with you and just grabs you by the throat/jaw and just tongues you down right then and there. a college au would be great too!

— sawamura daichi x fem!reader

⤷ genre: college au

⤷ warnings: suggestive content, cursing, jealous (?) or rather possessive daichi, boy who disrespects relationships and doesn’t know when to give up

⤷ word count: 1.7k

— a/n: hi! i just wanted to announce that i actually reached 200 followers yesterday and i am extremely grateful for everyone who takes the time to read, like, reblog my content and for those who even message me! i appreciate everything, thank you so much! 💖

out of everything you prepared in celebration for your four-year anniversary with your boyfriend, sawamura daichi; the last thing you expected was to spend it tutoring in the hour right before your date.

you had spent months prior planning this special night for the two of you. from having dinner at his favourite restaurant which served the best shoyu ramen, to the rose-petalled bubble bath surrounded by the pine and vanilla candles he’d gifted you last month; and then, of course, ending it in the best way possible with him buried balls deep inside you and fucking you til dawn.

it was while you were getting ready for your date that you received a panicked text message from haru, the sweet freshman you’d been tutoring for the past five months, asking if you could help him today. you tried to schedule a session for tomorrow, but he was insistent almost begging you; and with a discontented sigh you relented, telling him to meet you at the library in twenty. he’d replied with a quick - “thank you y/n-senpai! <3” - and the love heart attached at the end was purposely ignored, as you headed out of your studio apartment.

daichi was less than pleased when you had phoned him, informing him of the last minute tutoring session.

“angel, tell me you’re not serious right now.” his deep voice was clear-cut, despite the sounds of traffic in the background; a tell-tale sign that he was in fact already on his way to meet you.

“i’m sorry, dai. it shouldn’t take too long, haru-kun said-”

“haru? that little shit?”

sighing internally, and making your way towards the red-bricked building with the click-clack of your thigh-high boots against the pavement, you nodded your head as if he could see you. “yes, it was haru-kun who requested the session.”

“you know how i feel about that brat.”

daichi had been more than supportive when you first started tutoring to earn some money on the side, and even though most of your tutees happened to be boys, it didn’t bother him much since they would take one look at him and give up on trying to win over your affection. haru was different. he was the furthest thing from subtle when it came to his crush on you, but you could handle his endless compliments and his attempts to take you out on a date; your boyfriend on the other hand, couldn’t. as intimidating as daichi was, haru had all but given your boyfriend a lazy once over before scoffing and mumbling about how you could do so much better.

that was the first time in a long time that you had seen daichi almost lose his cool. since that day, any interaction between the two of them had been borderline hostile; with your boyfriend hissing whenever haru’s hand would brush against you, and in turn the younger male would complain about how daichi must not be treating you well enough whenever you had chosen to walk home instead of having him pick you up.

“i know, baby, but the session shouldn’t be that long.”

“y/n.” the baritone slivering through his voice had you faltering in your steps. “you know he’s doing this on purpose. that kid has no respect for our relationship, or me- he needs to know his place.”

“daichi…i’ll talk to him today.”

“hm.” he hums in response, his side of the call silent for a beat. you could hear the blinking of his indicator before he asks, “are you at the library?”

“yeah i am, haru is probably waiting inside for me already. i’ll message you, okay?”

“alright, i’ll see you soon.”

the call had been disconnected almost half an hour ago, and you found yourself zoning out for the umpteenth time while haru busied himself by yapping away next to you. flipping your cellphone in the palm of your hand, your brows furrowed, thinking about how daichi hadn’t ended the call with his usual - “i love you, angel.” - perhaps he was mad you? it didn’t happen often, but flashes of you writhing beneath him as his hand cracked against your ass after heated arguments, had you crossing a leg over the other; thighs clenched together in an attempt to relieve some of the tingling pressure.

“y/n-senpai~!” haru waved his hand in front of your face, forcing you to blink away the less than innocent images playing in your mind. “are you okay? i’ve been calling out to you for a while, i have a question.” haru almost whines.

“i’m fine, haru-kun, sorry. please repeat your question for me.”

manicure fingers brushed over the exposed flesh of your plush thighs, between the hem of daichi’s favourite pleated mini skirt of yours you decided to wear for him and the ink coloured boots that wrapped around your calves and past your knees. you hadn’t realised the already short skirt had risen up, and as you tugged it down it was hard not to notice haru’s gaze watching the action intensely. maybe it was time to talk to him.

“haru-kun, i think we should talk.”

his eyes lingered on your legs, slowly dragging themselves past the dip of your waist, over the curve of your breasts, before they met with your own.

his eyes are wide, smirk less than innocent, as he shifts his whole body to face you. “really? about what yn-senpai?” 

“about my relationship with daichi.” at the mention of your boyfriend, haru’s expression morphs into a scowl. “listen, haru-kun.” you start, deciding to ease into it. “i’ve been with daichi for a long time, in fact today marks the anniversary of our fourth year as a couple...”

“and you’ve finally realised that he isn’t worthy of you.” ‘worthy of me?’ you think to yourself, completely taken aback; haru nods his head in understanding, as if he didn’t just completely misinterpret what you were trying to say to him.

“no, that’s not it-”

“come on, y/n-senpai, let me treat you how you deserve to be treated.” he rests his arm on the back of your chair casually. “i could give you everything he can and more. you just have to give me a chance.”

“that’s not going to happen, haru.” dropping the honorifics, tone snappy. you crossed your arms tightly across your chest.

“and why not?” he bites back. “what does he have that i don’t- did you tell him to come here?” he questions accusingly, staring over your shoulder.

“no…? i didn’t...”

swivelling in your seat, your breath hitches at the sight of your boyfriend heading straight towards you. each purposeful stride of daichi’s long legs, had the smooth material of his dress pants tightening around his strong thighs, the silver of his belt buckle glinting under the harsh library lights. his navy blue dress shirt stretched over his wide shoulders, first few buttons popped open to reveal his smooth, tanned skin underneath.

daichi stopped right by your seat, so close that you instinctively pressed the palm of your hand against his hip, feeling the warmth of his body through the thin cotton material. you were instantly surrounded by the sweet and familiar woodsy scent of his cologne, wafting around you and sending your senses into overdrive.

looking up at him, his pretty mouth was pulled into a devilish grin, pearly whites peeking from the corner of his lips and a single dimple poking through his cheek.

“hi, angel.” his voice was low, dripping in honey that washed over you; goosebumps prickling across your skin.

“daichi…?” a whisper was all you managed to get out. “h-how come you’re here...?”

“you look so fucking beautiful, y/n.”

haru’s scoff goes ignored, yanking his arm away from behind you and grumbling to himself in the background.

a warm flush rose in your cheeks as daichi continued to smile down at you, walnut coloured eyes appreciating every curve of your body; searing gaze lingering on your skirt, before he released an airy chuckle, almost kin to a growl. you could feel the heat pool between your legs, unconsciously leaning against his towering frame.

“i’m here because we’re gonna let him know…” daichi starts, loud enough for the boy to hear.

one arm flexes against the strain of his sleeves, sliding behind you to grip the back of your chair; the other reaching a large had to press against your cheek. the callouses on his palm are rough against your skin, thumb rubbing lazy circles before trailing down to the pout of your lips. dragging his thumb across your fullness of your bottom lip, your pink tongue darts out to taste the saltiness on the pad of his thumb. halting his ministrations, releasing a heavy breath out through his nose, he grabs your jaw, grip tight, and tilts your face to meet his as he leans downwards.

“...let him know that you’re mine.”

and then his lips are pressed against yours. it starts off sweet, sighing softly into him for a fleeting moment, before daichi deepens the kiss. it becomes sloppy, extremely possessive, and borderline nasty as drool at the corner of your mouth dripped down your chin; moans trapped down your throat. the lewd sounds of his tongue swirling around yours sensually, exploring your mouth, clouds the thoughts in your mind.

your body has a mind of its own, right hand tugging at the tufts of dark at his nape, while the left moves from his hip to trail across his navel. you grin when he bucks against your touch, yet gasp as sucks on your tongue. he consumes you entirely, and you’re all too willing to abide.

when he moves away, a string of silver keeps the two of you connected. you’re a whiny mess, mewling at him for more, and tugging at his sleeves for attention; while he sets his gaze on the sulking figure by your side.

“we’re leaving now. good luck studying, kid.” daichi calls out, smug look on his face.

he doesn’t even wait for a response, tugging you up and into his chest, while leading the way out of the library. stumbling a bit on wobbly legs, you grip his toned arms to steady yourself, as he holds onto your waist.

“dai.” you murmur, pushing up against him. “are we going to dinner now?”

“dinner?” he repeats, staring at you from the corner of his eyes. nodding your head, you feel the coil in your tummy tighten as his hand trails down to trace the underside of your ass. “forget about dinner, angel, i’m ready for my dessert.”

© 2020 AIIWA. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #daichi x reader #daichi imagine #sawamura daichi #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu college au #sawamura daichi x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #daichi #haikyuu daichi

[bothcreativitybois]

The Mayors Sweet Treat Chapter 5

Wordcount: 2430

Ship: Intruality

TWs: Food, dog, swearing, sexual references, spicy thoughts (not smutty)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Taglist: @crazydemigod666 @star-crossed-shipper @idont-freaking-know @someoneiwasnt @seraphiie @the-sympathetic-villain @cute-and-angsty-princess @lonelymuffin @bloodymari-0666 @im-an-anxious-wreck @newtnotfound @fantasticallytired @obsessive-fallen-angel

“You’re good!” Patton shouted as Remus backed into the narrow driveway next to the bakery. His truck was filled with paints, tools, hardware supplies and a very happy looking dog. Janus stood by watching to make sure Remus didn’t hit anything. When The truck was backed in enough Remus killed the engine and jumped out, Patton rushed up to the tray of the truck and began petting the dog. Cain happily soaked up the love, Remus began hauling items out of the truck. “Who are you baby? You’re adorable!” Patton cooed, Remus smiled and Janus rolled his eyes.

“His name is Cain.” Remus said and grunted as he pulled out a metal tool box. “If you scratch his chin he’ll never leave you alone.”

“He also eats my food and doesn’t pay rent so I wouldn’t mind that.” Janus added. Cain jumped out of the truck and Patton knelt down to scratch his chin as instructed. Cain put up his head and closed his eyes.

“Oh you’re so cute! I love you!” Patton continued, Remus couldn’t stop watching him. The little dimples in his cheeks, how much love was in his eyes when he looked at Cain, Remus wondered what it would be like to have Patton look at him like that. His mind raced back to the thoughts he had a few days ago.

“Damn, you’re so cute.” Patton whispered as he bit his lip. Remus was on top of Patton and his hair perfectly fell around Patton’s face, creating a tunnel for just the two of them. Remus lent down and pressed his forehead against Patton’s, both men closing their eyes. Remus’ breath caught in his throat which caused him to let out a small noise. “I lo-.”

Remus was brought back with a pinch to his ribs.

“Ow, what the fuck?” Remus exclaimed as he swatted away Janus’ hand. These thoughts were getting out of hand. Yes they were fun but very distracting and uncontrollable.

“Roman told me to do it if you got distracted.” Janus shrugged and walked away with a crate of spray paints. Patton felt guilty for not doing anything, he joined Remus at the back of the truck.

“What can I do?” Patton asked. Remus looked around a moment, not sure how much Patton could carry.

“Uh, can you get that ladder for Janus?” Remus replied. “Only if you can.” Remus worried. Patton smiled smugly. He leant forward and dragged the ladder out, easily carrying it with one hand. He walked past Remus just as Janus walked back over.

“I carry ten kilo bags of flour two at a time.” Patton looked back and flashed a smile. “Don’t worry about me, honey.” Patton walked away and Remus followed half stammering some apologies. 

Jan: Just talk to him ffs he looks incapable of hurting you 

Virgil sat on the kitchen counter while Patton ran around grabbing ingredients, Janus and Remus were working in the other room. Virgil balanced a phone between his shoulder and ear, hold music played loudly from it.

“What are they saying?” Patton whispered. Virgil put up a finger as a signal to wait.

“That makes no sense, you would’ve known the location before taking the order. If it was too remote you shouldn’t have taken the order in the first place.” The voice began again but it wasn’t long before Virgil interrupted. “No, I understand but you should have contacted him, or at the least gave him an answer instead of bouncing him between numbers. Will we be getting a refund?” Virgil swung his legs off the table as the voice spoke more, Patton began dropping ingredients into a mixer. “That isn’t how it works, your contract said you’d deliver th-” Virgil was cut off by the voice followed with a disconnect sound. He threw down his phone and pressed his hands to his face. He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair.

“They don’t have my sign do they?” Patton asked sadly. Remus walked over to the kitchen entrance to listen in. 

“No they have it, but they won’t deliver to such a remote location. It’s at a warehouse in the city. They’ll refund the delivery fee but you have to pick up the sign yourself.” Virgil explained. Patton put down the top of the mixer and clicked it on before turning to Virgil.

“How? My car is tiny!” Patton panicked, Remus quickly moved to him and put a hand on his shoulder as comfort.

“It’s alright.” Remus soothed. “I’ll go get it for you tomorrow.” Patton felt guilty. All these people were so quick to help him but he had nothing to give in return.

“No I need you for the picnic.” Patton reminded him. Remus had influence and in his own way always knew what he was doing, that made Patton feel comfortable. The confidence he exuded was…

“I’ll go get it now then.” Remus suggested. He took out some keys and spun them around his finger. “Virge, message me the address.” Remus liked long drives, they helped him think. And with everything that was happening, the thoughts he was having, he could use some time to think. Patton looked around, seeing who he would be left alone with. He didn’t have a problem with making friends usually but two people he’d just met?

“I can’t ask you to do that, Remus.” Patton said, hoping Remus would catch the hint. Unfortunately he didn’t.

“It’s all good, just watch Cain for me until I’m back. He doesn’t like long drives.” Remus informed as he walked out the door. The elderly cattle dog padded up to Patton and leant on his leg, his innocent puppy eyes were very different to his owner's devilish gleam. Patton wanted to scratch him but needed to check his batter.

Quite a few minutes of awkward silence went by. Patton tasted his batter and added some more tweaks, Janus used a thick lead pencil to sketch a drawing to paint over and Virgil did… something on his phone. Janus looked into the kitchen, Virgil looked awkwardly across at Patton. He sighed. Virgil wasn’t the biggest fan of new people and Patton clearly was caught off guard with Remus’ dramatic exit. Janus pulled out his phone and texted Virgil.

Virgie: hnnngg social anxiety

Jan: Just ask if he needs help!

“How much business can a sign company have?” Virgil complained, Patton laughed across the room. Finally the hold music halted and Patton heard a voice drone through the phone. “Hello, I am calling on behalf of Froggy And Doggy Bakery. We ordered a sign last year and it still hasn’t arrived.” Virgil said in a professional voice. The person on the other end typed some stuff then told him something. Patton put down the eggs he had in his hands and rushed in front of Virgil.

Virgil looked over at Janus who nodded gently in response, Virgil took a deep breath.

“Patton?” Virgil said across the room. Patton looked up from mixing some flavours through the batter. “Is there… can I help?” Virgil mumbled. Patton wasn’t surprised anymore, he began thinking maybe all the tall men in this town had an agenda to kill him with favours. He giggled and pointed to a few aprons on a hook.

“Grab one and come over here.” Patton smiled. Virgil walked to the hook and pulled off a pink apron, he tied it up and joined Patton at the mixer. Patton pulled out a toothpick and dipped it in the mixture before thrusting it to Virgil. “Try this.” Virgil took the stick and licked off the batter. The delicate and fluffy batter had a strong punch of lemon and vanilla. The flavours tingled the back of Virgil’s jaw.

“That’s nice but maybe a little… strong.” Virgil shared. Patton laughed and took back the toothpick to throw away.

“The flavour will dilute after baking, it has to be strong or you won’t taste it.” Patton clarified. He threw the toothpick into the sink and rummaged in a draw, pulling out some dainty white mini cupcake papers and a large patty cake tray. “Can you put one paper in each tray? I have to take out the meringues." Patton looked across the room to see Janus had abandoned the drawing and was in the kitchen entrance. Patton walked across to the oven and pulled out a tray of cute pastel pink meringues shaped like flat roses. Virgil began dropping the papers into the tray. The large tray probably had two dozen holes, each no bigger than an inch in diameter. Janus leant down to pet Cain while the others worked. Patton used a spatula to scrape off the sweet treats and place them in a plastic container. Janus watched Patton's hands, how smoothly he scraped off a meringue with one thrust and gently laid it on top of the others in the container. It looked effortless yet Janus was sure if he tried he'd snap at least half of them in two. Patton noticed Janus staring from the corner of his eye, he tried his best to stay calm and focus. Meringues were small and light, which means they're easy to crush. He was thankful he had Virgil to take care of the patty cake papers so he could focus and take his time. Patton placed the last meringue in the container and looked up in time to see Virgil place the last paper. 

He’s really nice albeit a little dry and blunt.

"Thanks. I'll put in the batter to make sure they all have the right amount." Patton thanked. Virgil nodded and looked up at Janus, he smiled smugly.

“Wrist is tired, needed a break.” Janus opposed in a friendly tone. “Also couldn’t miss you wearing that cute pink apron.” Janus chuckled as he turned around his phone to show a picture of Virgil in the apron holding the small cake papers, Patton also stifled a laugh. Virgil took off the apron and hung it back up.

“Send that to anyone and I’ll add another 10 hours to your community service.” Virgil warned.

“Too late.” Janus smirked. “Officer Honeycutt loves seeing her recovered little delinquent.”

“Well we can’t all be teenagers graffitiing forever.” Virgil shot back. Patton looked up.

“Who is Officer Honeycutt?” Patton asked, both boys looked over like they had forgotten he was there.

“My mother.” Janus said as he put away his phone. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t give anyone trouble. Most she’ll do ya for is drunk and disorderly but you don’t seem that type.” Virgil and Janus laughed, but it felt friendly. Not like laughing at Patton but joking with him. He laughed too.

“And Virgil does?” Patton joked, both men laughed again and shared a look.

“You’d be surprised what he used to get up too.” Janus eluded. Virgil hit him in the shoulder and picked up his bag. Patton’s nerves had disappeared, he wasn’t sure when but they were gone.

“I’m going to get myself a coffee and take Cain out for a bathroom break.” Virgil announced before turning to point at Janus. “Play nice.” Janus smirked.

“How nice exactly?” Janus asked mischievously. Virgil gave him a serious stare, Janus put up his hands in surrender. “Alright!” He surrendered. Virgil left with Cain and suddenly Patton was alone with Janus. He had no problem with Janus but out of all the friends Patton had met he seemed the most critical. Or more accurately, most straightforward with his judgement. Patton began scooping batter into the papers with two metal spoons. Janus entered the kitchen and sat on a counter, closely watching. Patton was a man in chains, facing the judge and waiting for his sentence. Remus’ voice echoed through his head.

Patton tried his best to focus. Everything would be fine.

“What makes you think Remus is so sexy?” Janus said suddenly and plainly. Patton dropped the spoons in shock and batter splattered over a few of the papers. His face burned a furious red. Patton looked back at Janus who was unfazed. “Is it his moustache?”

“Shouldn’t you be drawing?” Virgil teased as Patton gathered more items.

“That- I don’t-” Patton tried as he shakily recovered the spoons. His head raced. He didn’t think of Remus like that… did he? Even if he did he was too busy to make a move. And with everything that happened with his last partner he wasn’t sure if he was ready to move on. He attempted to gather all his thoughts into a sentence. “I don’t have time to think of Remus like that and he doesn’t think of me that way either so what’s the point?” He hoped that answer was good enough. He cleared his mind and went back to scooping batter.

“Funny, most people don’t answer when I ask them stuff like that.” Janus remarked. “They usually tell me not to ask stuff like that or refuse to answer.” Janus laughed slightly.

“I’m sure you mean well.” Patton answered. “Maybe you’re trying to protect Remus, maybe you’re trying to get to know my taste, or maybe you’re just curious. But I don’t think you’re asking for malicious intent.” Patton turned around and gave Janus a reassuring smile, he looked away.

“And how do you know that?” Janus pressed. Patton put down the spoons and picked up the tray of batter.

“You don’t seem that type.” Patton repeated with a wink. He adjusted the heat on the oven and slid in the tray all the while Janus watched him in thought.

“What if you did have the time?” Janus asked abruptly. “To think of Remus.” Patton took a moment. He brought up thoughts of Remus, thoughts where he wasn’t worried about the bakery or his mother. He smiled as he ran the scenarios through his head.

“Yeah, maybe something could happen.” Patton admitted. “But like I said, I’m pretty sure Remus doesn’t think of me that way.” He didn’t even know if Remus was into guys. He’d made the mistake of assuming that before, it didn’t turn out well.

“Interesting.” Janus muttered as he walked back to the wall he was sketching on. “Remus isn’t easy to deal with sometimes. He’s loud, will do his best to annoy you and is unpredictable. But he seems to have taken a liking to you, so here’s a little advice: set up your boundaries or he’ll tear right through you.” Janus’ advice seemed bittersweet but it did get Patton thinking.

Remus seemed gentle with him so far, was that good or bad?

#the mayor's sweet treat #sanders sides small town au #roman took over #intruality au #sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #ts remus #remus sanders #ts patton #patton sanders #ts janus #janus sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #food tw #dog tw #intruality

[layce2015]

The Last of Us Part 2 (Joel x Reader)

(A/n: just wanna say that I'm not gonna follow the game completely. A good amount of it I will follow but there is a fate of a certain character that I'm gonna change as I feel Naughty Dog did this character dirty.)

Chapter 1: I Don't Know What Happened

The Last of Us (Joel x Reader) Masterlist

"I don't know what happened." Joel admits to Tommy as he starts to clean the neck of the guitar. The two brothers were out on patrol and decided to stop and take a break in this abandoned house. There Tommy had to ask Joel what happened with the Fireflies as Joel and (y/n) seemed a bit tight lipped about what happened.

"(Y/n) and I were suppose to take her to the Fireflies and walk away." Joel said before he let's out a small scoff. "You go halfway across the country with someone. She needed her immunity to mean something. Maybe we were starting to buy into that whole...cure business. Maybe (y/n) and I just wanted to do right by her. And then we made it." Joel explains as Tommy sits across from him, listen intently.

"We found the Fireflies. And because of her...they were actually going to make a cure. The only catch...it would kill her." Joel said, whispering the last sentence.

Flashback

"Sweet Jesus." Joel mutters and (y/n)'s jaw drops as the couple made it to the operating room.

"Doctor?" A nurse said and the doctor turns to them and gasped. "What're you two doing here? I won't let you two take her. This is our future. Think of all the lives we'll save." The doctor said as he grabs a scalpel and aims it at them. Joel glares at the doctor with determination while (y/n) closed her mouth and started to reach for her gun.

Present Day

"Jesus, Joel." Tommy mutters, shocked, as he stares at his older brother. "What did you two do?" He asked. Joel looks up at Tommy for a moment and replies. "We saved her."

Flashback 

After killing the doctor, Joel disconnects the tubes and goes to pick Ellie up. "Stay back!" (Y/n) yelled at the nurse as Joel whispers to Ellie. "Come on, baby girl. I gotcha..."

As he picks her up, the couple look out the window to see some lights shining through. "Oh shit." Joel said as he starts to run at the door. "Get back!" (Y/n) ordered at the guards that were coming in, aiming her gun at them before turning around and follow Joel out of the room.

Present Day

"Damn, Joel. That's um...that's a lot." Tommy said, sounding like this was a hard pull to swallow. Tomny looks down them back up towards Joel. "What does Ellie know?" He asked as Joel continued to clean the guitar. "I told her they ran some tests. I told her...her immunity meant nothing." Joel replied.

"And she believed you?" Tommy asked, curiously. "She didn't say otherwise." Joel said, softly, as he looks down. "And (y/n) was okay with this?" Tommy asked. Joel stops cleaning the guitar, looks at the floor for a bit before he raises his head up and nods at his brother.

Flashback

"Joel?" (Y/n) asked her husband as they drive down the highway in the truck, Ellie still passed out in the backseat. Joel turns his head slightly to look at her, her face full of concern and worry. "Are we really gonna go through with this? Lying to her?" She asked.

"We have to. For her sake." Joel replied. (Y/n) let's out a sigh then looks down at her hands. She looks over her shoulder at Ellie and starts to think over what just happened. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?" Joel asked her, concerned.

(Y/n) continues to look at Ellie, as if she held all the answers, and she started to think about what if they let Ellie die, and it turned out that the vaccine didn't work? Then Ellie would've died for nothing. But then what if it did? Would the world go back to normal?

(Y/n) let's out another sigh before she turns to Joel and shakes her head at him. "No. I just don't like lying to her." She whispers before she turns back around and starts to twiddle her thumbs together.

Present Day

Tommy let's out a heavy sigh and shakes his head before he looks back at Joel. "We should head back." Tommy said and he gets up and grabs his backpack. Joel watches him start to leave then stands up, grabs his bag and the guitar and follows him out.

The two brothers go out to the garage, open the door then head to the horses and climb on. Then the two head out and start to head back home.

They make their way over the grassy hill to see the town of Jackson in the distance. As they make their way down the hill, Tommy starts to speak. "Did (y/n) go for her checkup?" Tommy asked Joel as they continued down the hill.

"She's suppose to go today...guess I'll find out how she is when I get there." Joel replied as the worry for the wellbeing of his wife started to linger in his mind. The past week, she had been sick and throwing up it seemed like every morning. She thought it was some type of flu but it didn't feel like the flu.

Luckily, there was a doctor in Jackson and (y/n) decided to go see him. Joel hoped that the doctor would figure it out and give (y/n) some sort've medicine. He hated to see her so miserable.

"We're almost there." Tommy said to Joel as they make it to the front gate of Jackson. As they got closer, the doors opened and they trotted inside and head over to the stable. Joel gets off of his horse, grabs the reigns and starts to lead the horse to the stable.

"It's okay. I got them, you go on." Tommy said to Joel. "You sure?" Joel asked and Tommy nods. "Alright." Joel mutters then he grabs his bag off of the saddle. "About what we were talking about earlier...." Tommy started to say and Joel stops and turns to him.

"I can't say I'd have done different. I'll take it to the grave if I have to." Tommy said to Joel, who nodded at him. "I'll see you later, Tommy." Joel said and he starts to walk down the street while Tommy leads the horses to the stable.

Meanwhile, Ellie was sitting her little room, which was basically a shed behind Joel and (y/n)'s house, drawing in her journal. She was listening to her walkman, which she fixed, and started bobbing her head to the music as she continued to draw.

Unbeknownst to her, there was a knock at the door but, thanks to her headphones, she didn't hear the knock. The door opens and Joel sticks his head inside. "Hello? Ellie?" He calls out but he noticed that she had her headphones on.

So he walks over to her then nudges the chair with his foot, which startles Ellie as she jumps and takes off her headphones. She turns her head and sees Joel standing behind her. "Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack." She said, breathless, as she closes her journal and stands up to face him.

"I tried knocking, but..." Joel stops as he gestures towards the door. Ellie leans against her desk and looks up at Joel. "Hey." She said. "Hey." He said back. "What's up, Joel?" She asked him. "Just checking in." Joel replied. "Folks are..." he let's out a sigh then he starts to pace back and forth in her room.

"...y'know talking about how impressed they are with you and how well you're helping out." He finished. "Good." Ellie said. "Yeah." He mutters.

"Umm...is (y/n) okay? I heard she wasn't feeling good." Ellie said, concerned. "She hadn't made it back from the doctor yet....but I guess I'll find out here real soon." He said and Ellie nods.

"Tommy and I went out riding the other day and he, uh...he told me a joke and I thought about you. It's ummm....." Joel said but then he stopped as he tries to remember the joke. "Well, shoot, I forgot it. Something about a clock...how do you--" he started to say but Ellie interrupts him.

"Joel, it's, uh, it's pretty late, and I gotta get up in a few hours--" she said. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I know, and I'm gonna get out of your hair. I just um--" he said then he points towards the door then looks back at her. "I wanna show you somethin'. Just gimme one second." He said as he goes to the door, opens it and picks up the guitar then comes back in her room.

"What's this?" Ellie asked him, nodding towards the instrument. "Some folks call this here a gee-tar." Joel replied, really pouring into his Texas accent. "Funny." Ellie chuckles, softly. "You wanna hear something?" Joel asked her. "Okay." She said and he nods as he goes to sit down, the guitar on his lap.

"Promise me that you won't laugh." He said to her. "I won't laugh. I won't." She assures him as she sits down in her chair. "I'm trusting you." Joel said, smirking, then he takes a deep breath and starts to play.

If I ever were to lose you

I'd surely lose myself

Everything I have found here

I've not found by myself

Try and sometimes you'll succeed

To make this man of me

All of my stolen missing parts

I've no need for anymore

I believe

And I believe 'cause I can see

Our future days

Days of you and me

As he sings the song, Ellie smiles, softly, at him while (y/n) started walking towards the door then leaned against the frame. She got back from the doctors and spent most of the evening walking around Jackson, trying to clear her head as she was shocked at what the doctor had said to her.

It took her awhile to convince herself that she had to tell Joel and she was heading back to their home when she heard music playing. She followed it and realized that it was coming from Ellie's little shed house and walked up just in time to hear her husband sing.

She smiled fondly at this as she remembered the day he first sang to her. It was actually about a year after they started dating and he brought out his guitar and started to play and sing for her. In that moment, (y/n) realized that she had, indeed, falling in love with Joel. When he was done singing, she said the words "I love you" first and he, of course, he said "I love you" back.

(Y/n) was brought back to the present when she heard him stop playing and he looks over at Ellie. "There you go." He said. "Well...that didn't suck." Ellie replied, smiling, and Joel chuckles while (y/n) smiles. "I'll take what I can get." Joel said.

"Well, in my opinion, you still got it." (Y/n) said and both Ellie and Joel look over at her, both of them startled as they didn't hear her come in. "Hey." Joel said as he starts to stand up, still holding the guitar in his hand, and walking up to her.

"Hey, (y/n). You doing okay?" Ellie asked and (y/n) let's out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine but, um..." she said then she looks over at Joel. "I-I need to talk to you, privately." She said to him.

The two share a look before Joel nods then goes back over to Ellie and holds out the guitar to her. "She's yours." He said to her, who looks at this in shock. "No. No, no, no, I don't know the first thing about this." Ellie said, quickly. "I promised that I'd teach you how to play." He said as Ellie takes the guitar.

She looks up at him, surprised that he remembered that. She smiles then looks down at the instrument. "You did." She said, softly. "So what you say? Tomorrow night, first lesson?" He asked her. "Deal." She replied, smiling. "Okay." Joel said and (y/n) smiles at this.

Joel walks over to (y/n), who takes his hand in hers, and they start to walk out until Ellie speaks up. "Did--" she stops as the two adults turns to her. "Did you remember the joke?" Ellie asked him and Joel leans against the door and thinks for a moment before he remembered how the joke went.

"What is the downside to eating a clock?" He recites and Ellie thinks for a moment but shrugs as she couldn't think of an answer. "It's time-consuming." Joel said and Ellie chuckles and (y/n) snickers under breath. "That's so dumb." Ellie laughs. "Yeah." Joel and (y/n) said then Joel grabs the knob of the door.

"Goodnight, kiddo." He said and he shuts the door and the two adults head back to their house.

Later, Joel opens the front door of their home and (y/n) walks in first before she stops in the middle of the hallway. "Everything alright?" Joel asked her after he shuts the door and walks up to her, her back facing him and her arms folded across her chest.

(Y/n)'s heart was beating rapidly, whether in fear or excitement she wasn't for sure. She just wasn't sure how Joel would take this news. "Hey." Joel said, softly, as he comes up to her and places his hands on her shoulders. 

She turns her head to look at him then placed her right hand on one of his hands. "Whatever it is you need to tell me, we'll get through it." He said and she smiled at this, then she removes her hand off of his and turns to face him.

"I, uh...I really don't know how to say it, so I'm gonna come out and say it." (Y/n) said and Joel gives her a worried look as she takes a few deep breathes before she starts to speak. "Joel...I'm pregnant." 

Joel's eyes widen and he let's out a gasp at this. "What? Y-You serious?" He asked her, shocked. "Yeah. He thinks I'm at least alittle over a month along. So that night we had together when we were out on patrol and that storm came through and we took shelter..." She replied and placed her hand over her stomach, feeling the little bump. There was long shocked pause between the two before she speaks up.

"Joel? Honey, are you...?" She started to asked but then Joel cups her face in his hands then leans in and kissed her on the lips. "Thank you." He whispers, his lips ghosting over her lips. (Y/n) let's out a breathless laugh and the couple share another loving kiss then embrace one another, relishing in this happy moment.

A moment that neither one of them ever dreamed would come true.

#joel x reader #joel imagine #the last of us joel x reader #the last of us joel #joel #joel and ellie #joel miller #joel miller x reader #naughty dog #video game imagine #video game #fan fiction #fandom #the last of us pt 2 #the last of us #the last of us imagine #post apocalypse #infected #x reader #reader insert #reader

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Stranger

I Know You

Summary - After that evening, the freckled face of that man was engraved in your memory. You hoped that you would meet him again and you do but not all meetings are pleasant - some reveal the dark secrets of life.

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning - Fluff, Angst (a lot of angst), swearing, 18+ SMUT, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people)

Square filled - Showering together (implied) ( @spndeanbingo )

Word Count - 2.5k

A/N - This is the second part of the series Stranger (my brain hates oneshots). Prepare for the slow burn people.

The dividers are by @talesmaniac89 and the banner is by me.

A/N - This is the first time I have ever written smut. I have tried my best lol. Also thanks to @bucky--barnes because her fic Innuendos helped me a lot to write the smut part. There are certain parts in the smut that irked me a little while writing so I decided not to include those but maybe in the future I can write about those (I'm very new to this whole thing).

Okay enough of nervous rambling, just go ahead and read it!

“This is the last time I'm warning you! Step away from the cake,” you yelled making your husband jump and drop the piece of the cake, “what did you do?”

“You shoufn’t haf yellt,” he spoke with his mouth full.

“Get. Out. Now,” you seethed as you examined the destroyed piece.

“I like it when you get all bossy,” he goes to grab your waist but you successfully dodge his hands. “Y/N,” he pouted.

“Those eyes won't work on me Mister,” you raised your eyebrow, “and I need to clean up the kitchen because your dumbass acted like a child.”

“I didn't.” He grumbled.

“Leave the kitchen now. Go check on your demon spawn,” you said.

“Hey, he's half yours.” He argued.

“He got all your bad qualities,” you smirked. Dean stared up at you with his green eyes and said, “maybe our baby girl will get your bad qualities,” he caressed your still flat stomach.

“How do you know it's a girl?”

“Father's instinct,” he said.

“That's called mother instinct-”

“So fathers can't have instinct?” He grinned.

“That's not what I meant, you fool,” you said.

“Uh-huh,” he smirked, “So you think-”

“Mommy, Daddy,” Jaxon, your three year old came running into the kitchen with Scooby hot on his heels.

“What's up kiddo?” Dean turned and picked up the little boy in his arms. Scooby whined and nuzzled his face into Dean's legs, trying to get his attention. “You're not forgotten, buddy,” he started to pet the German Shepherd.

“Cake,” Jaxcon said and hid his face in the crook of his father's neck.

“Bad qualities,” you threw a look at him and saw him shrugging.

“We have to wait for Grandma and Grandpa to arrive sweetie, then you can eat it,” you said.

“Okay,” he pouted.

“Come on Y/N, give him one piece,” Dean said.

“Don't encourage our son. If he gets a sugar rush, you have to deal with him,” you shook your head at your husband.

“Scout’s honour,” he grinned, as you cut up a piece of the cake.

Dean put the little boy down into a chair, when he started wriggling in his arms. Jaxcon immediately dug into the sugar factory as soon as you handed him the plate. You walked out of the room to check on the other preparations, as Dean kept a close eye on the boy, his hands occasionally petting the dog and scratching his ears.

Life was good. After that night at the bar, you had met Dean again. You were having a bad day - you had just handed the resignation letter to your pervert boss and walked out of your office, when you had bumped into him on the streets.

“I feel like you are my guardian angel who just pops up whenever I have a bad day,” you had laughed.

“Maybe it's a sign from the universe for us to be together,” he had said, a big grin plastered on his face, “let me take you out on a dinner. You won't have another bad day.”

You had agreed and one thing led to another and here you were now married to him with a child and another one on the way, organising a family gathering to celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of your parents.

“Hey babe, I think your parents are here,” Dean called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah got it,” you shouted back.

“Hey Mom, Dad, happy anniversary,” you greeted as you opened the door.

“Thanks sweetie,” your Dad leaned into giving a peck on your cheek.

“Mr and Mrs. L/N,” Dean greeted, “thirty years huh? Happy Anniversary. Come on in. Your daughter has made some delicious food items.”

“Dean,” you chided but couldn't stop the smile that was threatening to spread over your face.

“Soon you will be celebrating your thirtieth anniversary. Time flies when you are with the right person,” your Dad said and you knew your Dad was right.

So yeah, life was good.

“It looks like a freaking djinn,” Dean said, clutching the steering wheel tightly as he drove back to your town. He gritted his teeth in anticipation, as he focused on the road ahead.

“Dean you need to slow down or else we'll be dead even before we reach the town,” Sam frowned, “maybe it's a Djinn, but I am sure that Y/N/N’s absolutely safe.”

The older hunter's jaw ticked as he tried to put a brake on his racing thoughts - why did he always have to think of the worst?

After another hour of driving, Dean pulled up his car in front of a house. Jumping out of it, he jogged up the stairs and knocked on the door waiting for a reply.

“Dean stop! Maybe she is at work,” Sam intervened before his brother kicked down the door.

“No. She is in a huge ass danger. I can feel it Sammy,” Dean said, gripping his brother's shoulder tightly.

“You need to focus, Dean. I don't think you freaking out will help us at all. We need to treat this as any other case,” Sam said, “maybe Y/N’s safe after all.”

Nodding his head, Dean went back to his car, Sam following closely. They drove over to the nearest motel. Within a few minutes, they had switched to their fed suits and started going over the case and the alibi of the witness.

“Man with tattoos appeared out of nowhere. Bingo!” Dean exclaimed, “I told it seemed like a case of the tattooed suckers.”

The Winchesters started working rapidly - from interviewing the witness to finding out the locations of abandoned warehouses and buildings in the town.

“Uh….Dean. I think this might be the location where the Djinn is tak-”

Sam’s words were interrupted by the shrill ringtone of Dean’s phone.

“Agent Shaw speaking,” Dean said, “another missing report?....Name?” Sam saw his brother's eyes widened with fear and anger, as he continued to speak with the person over the phone.

“Thanks for letting us know,” He said and disconnected the call.

“There has been another report filed, another person has gone missing. Her name is Y/N L/N,” Dean breathed out, “I am gonna kill every one of those sons of bitches.”

“Mhm,” you groaned, as you were woken up from your deep slumber to your husband peppering kisses all over your face.

You opened your eyes to see him staring at you with his forest green ones. Pulling you close, he captured your lips in a sensual kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his teeth slightly grazed your lip. Without letting go of your lips, his hands started to work on the buttons of the flannel which actually belonged to Dean, unbuttoning it successfully and you laid there in just your panties.

“De-” you whimpered as he started to leave a trail of kisses down your bare body. His calloused hands massaged your breasts, his sinful mouth started to suck at the sweet spot on your neck, eliciting a sweet moan from your mouth.

“That's gonna leave a mark. Gonna let the world know you're mine,” he growled into your ears, his voice making you shiver with anticipation. As his fingers worked on your already hardened nipples, his mouth slowly moved south.

Spreading your legs apart, you felt his hot breath at your clothed, wet core. “N-need you,” you breathed as you felt him starting to kiss your inner thighs.

“Mhm, so fucking wet already,” he mumbled, as he swiftly ripped off your damp panties.

“Dean, p-please,” you whined.

“Please what?” He gave you a cocky grin, his fingers brushing past your sensitive clit.

“Either fuck me or put your magic fingers to use,” you pouted which immediately turned into a gasp as he put a finger inside you. He started to pump at a slow pace. Your back arched in ecstasy as he picked up the pace. He put another finger, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the bedsheet tightly. He curled his fingers inside you and kept pumping at a quick pace, brushing your g-spot over and over again.

“F-fuck,” you moaned, as your hand left the bedsheet, to tug at Dean’s hair, entangling your fingers with the short, soft strands, making him groan.

“De, g-gonna c-co-” you whimpered.

“Then let it go, sweetheart,” he rasped and that's all it took as your body shook with pleasure, you came hard on his fingers. Dean moved up to you as you panted, your mind and body in a euphoric state. He pecked your lips lightly as you tugged at his boxer’s band but he lightly swatted your hands away, “so impatient.” You noticed the sizable bulge in his boxers. He grunted, throwing his head back in pleasure as you palmed his cock through the soft material of his boxers.

He pulled down his boxers, his hardened length sprung free. You took his cock in your hand, giving it a few strokes.

“Nuh-uh,” he groaned pushing your hands away. “I won't last long i-if you do that a-and I wanna be inside you.” You let go of him, giving into his plea.

He kissed you once again as he lined himself in front of your entrance. “Fuck,” you gasped, your eyes fluttering close as he pushed himself inside you.

“Shit sweetheart,” he groaned, “not gonna last long.”

“Mhm,” you moaned, failing to form any coherent sentence, “m-move.” Dean obliged, slowly pulling out of you till only his tip was inside you. He kept thrusting into you, “s-shit, baby.” You jerked your hip forward, trying to meet his pace. He quickened his pace as he roughly kissed you. He continued to ram into you, his cock brushing your g-spot every time, making you moan out loud. His hands travelled all over your body. He let out a breathy moan as the coil in your stomach tightened.

“Gonna c-come,” you whimpered, your pussy clenching around him.

“Let go baby,” his thrusts became a little sloppy, as Dean inched towards his climax. Your hands gripped tightly onto his biceps, as his fingers entangled with your hair.

“Fuck Dean!” You cried out as the coil inside you snapped and you felt yourself coming undone, “fuck!”

Dean thrusted into you a few more times before he let out a guttural moan, his seed spilling inside you, coating your walls. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, his face hiding in the crook of your neck as he collapsed on top of you. Panting, Dean pulled out of you, as he rolled to the other side of the bed. You both laid in bed, as you pulled the covers up to cover your modesty.

“Morning,” you smiled.

“Morning,” he whispered, pecking your cheeks, “I'm gonna go and get a shower. Join me.”

“No funny business. You have work and you are already running late,” you warned, “and the kiddos are up.”

“Scouts honour,” he said as he walked into the bathroom in all his naked glory. You removed the covers and climbed out of the bed to go to the bathroom.

“Y/N,” you stopped in your tracks as you heard a voice calling your name.

“Dean? Did you call me?”

“Nope.” Your husband replied from the bathroom. You shrugged off the feeling and went into the bathroom, joining your husband. Needless to say, you guys didn't make it out of the bathroom in time.

“We already have a ten months old and a five year old. Don't you think you should tame your libido?” You said, while feeding your daughter.

“I can't keep it in my pants with you walking around me,” Dean said, “sooner or later, I will put another baby in you.”

“Daddy!” Jaxcon exclaimed as Dean leaned in to kiss you.

“What?” He groaned making you chuckle.

“I will be late for school! Hurry!” The son urged.

“Who gets so excited for school? He is a nerd like you!” Dean said and walked over to his son not before he had kissed you. “Take one to know one. Go or your boss will kick you out!”

Ava, your ten months old, babbled as she waved at her father. “Oh look, your baby girl says bye,” you said, catching your husband's attention.

“Bye Ava,” Dean waved back as he followed your son out of the door. This was your daily morning routine.

“Y/N, sweetheart, wake up,” you heard the voice again but no one was in the house anymore except your daughter who could hardly form complete words.

“Who is it?” You called out in the empty house.

“Y/N, sweetheart wake up,” Dean said to your unconscious figure lying on the ground. Exhausted, injured, Dean desperately tried to wake you up. Tears pricked at his eyes, as guilt ridden thoughts made their way into his mind. Two lifeless bodies of the djinns laid on the ground beside you.

“Sammy, she's not waking up,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Let's take her back to the bunker. I already gave her the antidote. If she doesn't wake up, maybe we can look through the archives of the British Men Of Letters,” Sam grunted as he stood up. They both were beaten up but none of them suffered any life threatening injuries. Dean picked you up in bridal style, as he made his way towards his car. Sam joined you and Dean after he was done burning the bodies.

The drive back to the bunker was tense. Sam was in the driver's seat as Dean was in the backseat with your head resting peacefully in his lap. He caressed your face, removing a few loose strands of hair, as he waited for you to wake up with bated breath.

“What if the antidote doesn't work?” Dean asked, worry evident on his face.

“You remember what happened with Charlie?” Sam asked, “we have to use African Dream Root to wake her up. We have to invade her dreams.”

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this series!

Feedback is highly appreciated!

#supernatural #dean winchester #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #sam winchester #spn #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean smut #dean winchester x you #dean x you #stranger #dean winchester x y/n #deanxreader #dean winchester fanfic #dean fanfiction #dean fluff #angst #spndeanbingo challenge round 1

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

The Inherent Risks of Loving a Wild Man

Bill Guarnere x Reader

Summary: Word about Bill Guarnere and the NCOs going to Sink reaches you, but by the time you hear it’s been so muddled with misinformation that you think he’s dead. After hearing another person saying that he’s alive, you are let with the awful task of waiting....

Warnings: no-no words (it’s hbo/war, kids. people gonna curse), allusions to sexy times, some vv lite sexy times™, angst (kinda)

~

William Guarnere was a dead man- that much you knew for sure.

The only thing you weren't sure of? 

If he was going to die by Sink’s hand or yours.

Sink, you thought ruefully to yourself, throat feeling tight again as you had an intrusive mental image of Bill crumpling to the ground after the crack of a gun. Sink has no other choice, his hands are tied.

For probably the fiftieth time that evening, you walked over to the window in the in-law unit attached to the side of the house you’d been assigned to in England. You knew better than to expect any of the NCOs to go out of their way to tell you, not with the strict curfew Sobel has imposed on them after the idiot himself led Easy astray during a training exercise.

The grandfather of the family you were staying with had told you about it in passing after coming across Dick and some others after his morning bike ride. You’d tried not to openly criticize Sobel, but when the old man mentioned a flustered soldier yelling “high-oh silver!” as he arrived late (and from the wrong direction), you hadn’t been able to hide your scowl.

“He’s going to get us killed.” Bill had grumbled to you a few days ago, after telling you about yet another catastrophic day of training. “I swear to god, Y/n, that cow-eyed bastard couldn’t find his own dick in a well-lit room—”

“I get the picture, Bill. Please don’t ever make me think about Sobel’s dick ever again.”

He’d chuckled at that, pinning your arms above your head and looking down at you with a smug grin.

“I’m awful sorry about that, Miss Y/L/N. Let me make it up to you?”

He’d kissed the air from your lungs then, and any thoughts of Sobel or death were put on the back burner….

It just seemed horribly ironic now- Sobel really was going to be the thing that gets him killed, it just hadn’t happened as straightforwardly as youd anticipated.

Headlights suddenly blind you, and your blood runs cold as you recognize it as one of the airborne’s Jeeps.

It must be Nixon, he’d tell me. Whether i want to actually hear it or not.

Your throat feels tight as the truck pulls to a stop by the front garden, and you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until the figure that exits the car forgoes the direct footpath through the family’s garden, instead walking straight towards your window.

There’s only one person who does that, did that….

Throwing your window open, you stand on the desk beneath it and crawl out gracelessly, your limbs feeling disconnected from your body as you try to squash the painful hope trying to bubble in your chest.

The man stalks up to you, the light coming from your room illuminating the handsome, sharp, and perfectly alive face of Bill fucking Guarnere.

“Cara mia.”

He’s raised his hands to hold your face in his typical greeting kiss, that stupid grin bright on his face- as if he hadn’t been dead in your mind up until a few milliseconds ago. 

So, it was to be you to kill him. Okay then.

You clapped him across the face, palm stinging as you watched his head snap to the side. In the low light, you could see a pink handprint on his cheek and feel a little bad for hitting him so hard.

Then you remember why you’d hit him in the first place, and you get over it.

“What in the actual fuck were you thinking, pulling that shit?” 

Your voice is as sharp as your slap, slightly wavering as tears began to cloud your eyes.

“How could you even think about doing something so stupid, and not even bother to let me know…..and you don’t even say ‘goodbye’?” 

He said nothing, his face still turned away and his jaw working as you tried your very best not to yell and wake everyone in the main house up.

You then surprise the both of you by bursting into tears, throwing your arms around his neck and sobbing so hard you forget to breathe.

His arms are quick to wrap around you, pulling you impossibly close and nosing affectionately by your ear.

“Hey, don’t cry….oh darlin’, please don’t cry,” the rumble of his voice only makes you cry harder, the sound so comforting and warm and essential, and for four horrible hours you’d tried to wrap your head around the fact that the man you loved was dead and you’d never get to hear that perfect voice again.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to make you cry—”

You pull away, glaring at him tearfully. “No? What part of you either leaving the airborne- and not telling me, or getting executed for mutiny- without bothering to say anything…..What part of either of those things breaking my fucking heart are you not getting, you stupid fucking idiot?”

You shake your head, only stopping when he unwraps his arms from around you and takes your face in his hands (as he’d intended to before you smacked him).

“Did you even think about what that would do to your mother? Or your father, for that matter—?”

“I’m sorry.” he interrupts you, and when you frown at him he sighs anxiously. “Fuck, baby….”

Seeing that you weren’t going to easily forgive him, Bill wipes at your tears with his thumbs and looks at you sadly.

After standing in tense silence for a few moments, Bill pulls you into another embrace- hands hot through the material of your thermal pajama top.

“I love you.” he mumbles.

A mournful scoff escapes your throat, and he squeezes you tighter.

“Hey, listen to me...” he turns his head so he can look you in the face. Your eyes showed your doubt, and you watched as he seemed to understand just how deeply he’d hurt you.

It was uncommon for either of you to voice your affection for the other and not get an immediate echoing response, the both of you having abandoned any sort of stoicism for the other during your time in one of the Carolinas.

His dark eyes are swirling with deep regret, and you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen him remorseful before. It was heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time, seeing one of the cockiest men you knew looking at you as if you held the key to his happiness. His heart.

“I. Love. You.”

You close your eyes as he repeats the sentiment, unable to bear his intense look without wanting to start crying all over again.

“I didn’t think….well,” he cuts himself off, and when you peek at him you see that he’s nodding to himself. “Nah, that’s it. I just didn’t think. I just did because—”

“I’m not mad that you refused to follow an absolute moron into war...” you interrupt, watching as his brows furrow in confusion. You bring a hand up to wipe at the sticky tears drying on your cheeks. “Bill….losing you will kill me.”

He’s shaking his head now, whispering your name harshly. “Don’t say that—”

“I have to say it because it’s the truth. And if you love me a fraction as much as i love you, you probably already know that.”

With a tired sigh you bring your hands up to rub at his chilled ears, the cold air making your breath fog between you as you speak.

“But, I also know the reality of what’s about to happen- and I’ve made my peace with it as much as I can—” “Cara mia—”

“—because i know that i’ll at least get to see you once before we drop, before all the shit hits the fan, and I’ll get to tell you I love you..... and that if by some miracle we do both make it I’m going to marry you and then we’ll never have to do anything like this again.

“But you almost took that from me.” You swallow your sadness and rest your forehead against his. “Jesus, William….”

He kisses you sweetly, and you know he can also taste the salt of your tears as he does so. Bill’s hands are running up and down your back, following paths and trails he’d first mapped with his fingers the morning after the two of you had slept together the first time.

“Say it back,” he whispers between kisses. “I need to hear you say it back—”

“I love you.”

His hands suddenly stop, and he pulls back to look you over with a furrowed brow.

“Oh shit, darlin’, you’re barely wearing anything!” With commanding hands he turns you around and starts to march you back to your window. You had forgotten that you were just in your pajamas, feet still bare on the chilled ground.

When you climbed in he followed with silent movements, barely getting the window latched before he shirks off his outer few layers and is embracing you again, torso warm and inviting when you held him again.

“I’m gonna be pissed if you get sick, you know that right?”

He’s teasing you again, but his voice still is soft from emotion.

You smile and press a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, Bill. I know….”

He turns his head before your next kiss lands on his cheek, resuming the sweet kiss from outside.

When you nibble at his bottom lip he groans softly, one hand knotting in your hair while the other one slid down to your backside and kneaded the supple flesh of your bottom with a hungry grip.

“You want some more, baby?” Bill’s voice has taken on a rough quality that never failed to make your heart beat faster and your stomach to curl sweetly. “Want me to show you how sorry I am?”

You shut him up with a kiss, knowing from experience that once Bill got talking like this there was only so much you could take before becoming a flustered and needy mess.

Bill takes the hint, only breaking away from you to quickly pull your shirt over your head before ducking right back in. the material of his button up is rough against your bare nipples, the peaks harder than stone ever since you’d first stepped out into the chilly night air.

His hands drew goosebumps across your back as he brushed his fingers up and down your spine, worshipping you in such a way that made all your teenage years of self-consciousness seem preposterous in hindsight.

“Fucking goddess,” he’d proclaimed once between hot open mouth kisses across your collarbones after you’d both come down from your third orgasm of the night. “If I had my way, you’d never have to cover a single goddamned inch of your body from me. Could fucking taste you whenever i wanted…”

When your hand cups him through his pants he hisses, laughing headily into your mouth.

“I’m still mad at you.” you say, pulling back so you can watch his face scrunch up attractively as you massage his stiffness.

He nods, eyes closed  as his jaw goes slack. You can’t help but feel somewhat smug at being able to elicit such a reaction from such a fiery man.

“Thought I was ‘sposed ta be taking care of you, darlin’....”

You hum, walking him backwards so the back of his knees hit your mattress. 

“Maybe I want you to suffer a little bit,” you offer as you press on his shoulder to make him sit down before you. He looks up at you, eyes heavy and breathing rough.

There’s now a clear handprint on his cheek from where you slapped him, and some flicker of sadness must show in your eyes because one of the hands that had begun tugging your pajama bottoms down your legs comes up to take the hand you’d hit him with and he kisses at your fingers sweetly.

“I’m okay with some sufferin’, ‘s long as you’re the one dealin’ it.”

You fist his hair and duck down to kiss him urgently, letting him help you step from the clothes around your ankles so you can straddle his lap. 

“C’mon, baby….I can take it.”

You respond by craning his head back and placing biting kisses down his throat.

Because as wild as Bill Guarnere was, you were still the one who’d tamed him.

And he wouldn’t just do that for anyone.

You were going to be sure he remembered that.

Even if it took all night.

(Hey kids, wrote this while trying to get through writers block a little bittle ago, and there is a part 2, so holler at ya girl if yall’er (: interested ok thank your bye)

(ALSO! I saw someone else describe Sobel as ‘cow-eyed’ in a different fic. I’m trying to find it so I can give the author credit (bc it’s a perfect description!), but if any of you guys know which one i’m talking about just dm me and i’ll link it!)

(ALSO PART TWO: let me know if you’re interested in being tagged on any future garbage I write!)

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #bill guarnere x reader #it's vv bad but I'll just add it to the pile of already burning garbage pile that is my bibliography

[lynasushi]

Recognition || angst

Vil and Neige’s backstory theory + ending of chapter 5 (twisted wonderland)

Tw : physical abuse, death, angst, mentions child physical abuse (by another child)

Spoiler chapter 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was over. Dreams, hopes, all of his efforts ; nothing was left except despair, anger and shame. 

He didn't even know if he still had a heart- it felt as if someone had cut off the ties between his heart and mind. 

Then, why did he feel it tearing apart ? Why did he feel the cold slowly eating his whole being ? 

His heart was still there...but for how much longer ?

Betrayed, and now alone...even if deep inside he knew that some of those who loathed him had valuable reasons ; they didn't know the truth. 

They didn't know how much he had suffered to become who he was . How painful it was to work endlessly and perfectly without getting the reward his heart begged for.

Recognition. 

Recognition as his own person, not as Neige's rival, nor as the second after Neige ; but as Vil Schoenheit, a successful model and actor, the one whose constant dedication was seen as an example to everyone. 

But..did they ever give him a chance ?...Why would they, when Neige's shadow has been suffocating him since his youngest age ?

Neige, the perfect angel naturally succeeding in everything he does, the hero of Twisted Wonderland- against Vil, the one who would never surpass the blinding light of the fresh snow, no matter how much effort he’d put in over the years ; the eternal villain whose fate was to live in the shadows for the rest of his existence. 

This feeling of constantly drowning and being pushed back, whenever he would be about to breathe and feel the rays of the sun on his skin. 

For years, he had been able to keep his head above water, but he knew that one single mistake would make him fall back into the deepest parts of the ocean. 

And so it happened. Today, on stage, when he could've instead felt the warmth of victory for the first time in his life, he was instead cast away into the abyss, far away from everything he fought for, everyone's eyes judging him as if he were the greatest disappointment, the worst failure that ever lived.

If only… if only they could see that the one that they'd always seen as an angel was in reality, the worst demon ever created. 

A perfect demon indeed- flawless from the outside, and rotten deep inside. Constantly pushing Vil to the edge and using against him an act that he had never forgiven himself for. 

The death of Neige's mother, Vil's stepmother. An accident that only these two had witnessed.

But it didn't matter anymore. 

Staying silent or revealing the truth ? He had lost anyway. He had lost since the beginning, since his mother had fallen ill and died, leaving him all alone with his father, who’d suddenly brought another woman in their life, accompanied by his eternal rival, Neige. 

And what followed definitely cost Vil's right of happiness and freedom. 

It was just an accident...but buying Neige's silence cost him a lot…

What was happening now- was this his punishment for what happened ?...Did he really deserve it ? 

...

"Vil-san, are you feeling alright ?" 

...his voice...it's shattering and reducing to dust the remaining of my heart….stop it….just stop it….

"What a monster ! Hitting the students like that during daily training ! Tch, I can't believe I admired him once ! Neige is such a sweetheart, not an ounce of wickedness in this boy !"

"Schoenheit is such a loser ! No wonder Neige has always been first !" 

…..stop it….

"Calm down everyone ! I'm sure that it's not what we believe ! Let's try to talk to the student we see on the video to get some answers !-"

…..stop talking,,Neige Leblanche….you're the one who posted this video….and Rook gave it to you...stop pretending….you planned this all along, right ?....

"-everyone calm down, I'll talk privately to Vil-san, try and find the boy from the video. We can do this together !"

I said….stop it…..you hypocrite...stop hiding what you did to me…

"Wooaa Neige-san is so kind-hearted !!"

"Yeah ! I'd never give another chance to a bastard like Schoenheit !"

...leave me alone...I can't do this anymore….

"Come Vil-san ! Let's talk in a quieter place..."

Neige took Vil's arm and his body seemed to move on its own, like the puppet he has always been to the other.

They entered the official building rented especially for VDC, but Vil couldn't even tell the hallways and rooms apart, his eyesight blurry and his head constantly ringing. 

He suddenly heard the sound of a doorknob clicking, and of a door opening then closing behind them. 

That's when Neige abruptly threw him on the floor, the ringing in his head becoming a deafening whistling. The pain ? He couldn't feel it anymore- he was now nothingness, a mere physical envelope that had to endure whatever life was throwing at him. 

He had suffered for so long that now, he just felt... empty. It was no use to try to scream and protest ; it was no use when one didn't believe that they deserved better. 

"Ha... all these years you thought that you could beat me, Villain ?" 

Neige's shoe harshly crushed his jaw- the pressure in his head was now unbearable,  his mind filling with a thick fog, cutting him off from everything else….his heart was slowly disconnecting ; incidentally, all will to fight back was escaping him. 

"You're a murderer, and weak, just like your mommy. No wonder your dad looked for someone better...and what did you do to her ?....

You killed her you bastard-"

Vil received a kick in his lower abdomen, and he felt a scream forcing its way through his throat :  a pain-filled cry that resonated, breaking the sepulchral silence of the room. 

This kick….just like all the other ones he received during his childhood, from Neige...that he then transmitted to Epel. 

Epel…he reminded him so much of Neige- a version of Neige that was still unsure of himself….and deep inside, he was a beautiful being ; unlike this fake angel.

That was... why he couldn't contain his anger when Epel was there, it felt like tasting the sweet and sour taste of his vengeance upon Neige- a vengeance that would never see the day.

"Your unique magic is to curse all those around you, because you yourself are one. I wish you could just throw a sleeping spell on yourself, just like you did to my mom.

Neither alive nor dead…..hahaha- actually…just like right now ~ ahahaha..." 

"....I-."

Neige removed his foot from Vil's face, a surprised expression appearing on his visage that could seem candid if it wasn't for his malevolent smirk. 

"What's wrong ? You wanna say something, Villain ?...admit that you're a murderer, perhaps ?"

Vil gulped, the words could hardly leave his burning throat ; but if there was a moment in which he had to use his remaining strength to blurt out itching words clawing at him, this was it.

".....an..accident…...is..was…..an..accident...I didn't-"

"Of course it was an accident- I know this already. I was there, remember ? But you also seem to forget-" 

Neige crouched down and violently turned Vil's face towards him, tightly gripping his hair as the former laughs, "- that no one will ever believe you- you are the Villain that everyone despises. Unlike me, you aren't that good of an actor !" 

Vil painfully hissed, his scalp scorching and his neck painfully twisting towards Neige, eyes full of disbelief and despair.

He definitely couldn't escape this. He was trapped, and it was only the beginning of this nightmare. No one, to help him or to save him.

"You lost Villain, trying to reach my level has always been a waste of your time. You'll now die in the mind of everyone, no one will ever remember you, and I, will be the most loved person in this world. Your father will be proud of me and only me, and he’ll call me his only son, because you are, after all, just an unworthy being ; unworthy to even consume the oxygen of this world. Be grateful for what you have now- it'll always be much more than what you deserve."

Neige dropped Vil's hair, letting the blond’s head crash onto the cold floor painfully, then headed towards the door- but before he stepped outside, he paused, and turned towards Vil slightly- or at least, he did from Vil's perspective, judging by how Neige's feet were now pointing in his direction- and let out a deep and...happy sigh. 

"Well ! Time to find the others now ! Wish me luck, Vil-san !" 

He left and closed the door, leaving Vil, all alone, lying on the floor. 

...finally, it was over. He could finally suffer on his own, savouring the silence unpolluted by the voice of that white demon. 

..Did anyone know that he was here ?

..Who would care anyway ? He surely was shown everywhere as the worst monster of Twisted Wonderland.

Neige made him feel even more worthless than the word itself. Rook and Epel….would they try to find him ? No, of course not..but if they did- would it be to help ? Or... to push him even farther into this endless darkness ? 

He then realized the inevitable : 

no one would ever miss him. 

Neige was right all along. 

The Queen had been defeated.

~~

#twisted wonderland #twst #vil schoenheit #neige leblanche #twst theory #help me I'm crying #when you listen to depressive music at midnight #angst #twst angst