#B writes

[ghostsbaby]

BABE. WE NEED A FANFIC OF THE READER RIDING SIMONS THIGH LIKE RN, LIKE IMAGINE HIM BOUNCING HIS LEG UP AND DOWN TO TEASE THE READER OH MY GOD?

pairing - ghost x fem!babygirl reader

word count - 742

warnings - just some thigh riding, name calling, bad plotting and daddy kink!

a/n - got you baby! hope it’s okay. it’s not a complete fic but had to whip something up. let me know if you want something different. not proof read so if things don’t make sense oops I apologize 🖤🖤🖤

-

You weren’t facing him. Weren’t witnessing the change in his eyes when he felt your cunts heartbeat against his thigh. Weren’t seeing the amusement in his grin when you didn’t make a sound about it.

So he only did what felt natural. Tease.

He knew how to get your attention while you just sat there in his lap solving a puzzle with your holes untouched and pussy dancing on his thigh. Ghost knew how to fuck with you.

You had just finished the border, putting the last piece in place before moving onto the next section of the 1000 piece puzzle that had a picture of a cute puppy on it with pretty pink flowers. How cute he thought, gonna ruin it.

Of course at this time you weren’t alone. The rest of 141 already joined in the same room while Ghost had plans of turning you into putty. Gaz and Soap were watching a movie while Price began to softly snore on the couch. Perfect.

Looking for matching pieces you were playing oblivious to Ghosts intentions, not even noticing his growing cock under you until you felt the first bounce and heard the light tap of his boot hit the ground.

Your eyes zeroed in on one of the pieces in your hand, coming back from your little princess world of everything perfect now that you know what Ghosts really doing. You were sitting in his lap and occasionally, but purposely fluttering your pussy all over his thigh. You knew he could feel it.

The bouncing of his leg continued and it only made you weaker, starting to lose focus on the puzzle in front of you while the only thing Ghost is paying attention to is your cunt bouncing against him. It wasn’t the first time.

It didn’t take long for your panties to soak. The fabric thin and rubbing against you, his pants having all sorts of pockets and buttons that you find one and press your sensitive bud into it. Fuck he was going to have so much fun with you.

Ghost sat lazily in the chair, watching and waiting your every move while he bounced his leg. Starting off slow before going into a continuous rhythm of trying to get you to come while the boys were in the same room, almost all of them awake. Ghost knows how fucking loud you are and is going to use it against you.

You roll your hips impatiently and deeper. Your feet hanging off the floor under you, only bracing on Ghosts thigh as the puzzle doesn’t exist to you anymore. All hope of you being silent and not giving into your boyfriends shenanigans was thrown out the door.

“Look at you baby. Fuck.”

Low growling in your ear, his pace slightly quickening to see what noises he could get away with. You squeaked, hands bracing against the table while you started to hump Ghosts thigh and he fucking loved it. Ghost didn’t need to look over to notice the shift in Soap’s body and it drove him mad.

Ghost wasn’t even fucking touching you and you were melting all over his leg, riding his thigh like it was his cock you were gonna cum all over. His cock stretched his pants tighter and tighter while you desperately dry humped the Lieutenant.

“Do you want them to see you? Fucking slut.”

His hands finally made contact with your hips as he brought you down even harder against his thigh, making you hump against him vigorously until he could feel your body start to go limp. He held you up effortlessly, pushing his knee up so your clit presses against the buttons on his pocket and rolls your hips in circular motions.

You’re panting, letting out a string of moans before Ghost starts to bring you to orgasm from words you never wanna repeat.

“Come on baby. Ride Daddy’s thigh until you’re making a mess.”

The puzzle pieces scattered on the table started to fall off the table while you whined and whimpered out moans, hitting the ground with just enough noise that Price opens his eyes while you’re shaking against Ghost and he holds you down harder, leaving bruises where he dug his fingers into your sides.

You dared yourself to look in the captain’s direction, turning your head ever so slightly until it’s brought back to the puzzle in front of you by a hand closing your throat.

#simon ghost riley #b answers #b writes #simon riley #ghost #simon riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x babygirl!reader #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #mw2 #call of duty: modern warfare 2

[ladylooch]

Wait! I finally have a blurb idea (I was in a drought for weeks) What if you and Nico have an FWB thing going on for months and no one defines the relationship? So now your friends are telling you that he'll never claim you as his gf because he doesn't feel the need to do that since you are that (this happened to a friend, is horrible) so they pushed you to date someone else. But when you are on that date you see Nico across the room and he is looking at you with his big puppy eyes he is heartbroken because he thought you were official or at least exclusive, and now you have to mean his broken heart and assure him that you also want that. 🥺🥹

Anything to You- Nico Hischier

A/N: Ahhhh the classic, we totally know what we are but then we catch feelings and we don’t. WE LOVE IT! Thank you for the fun request 😘

Word count: 1.2k (yes over a blurb, hope you don’t mind 🥰)

Warnings: Mature Themes (18+), angsty!

I still remember the first time Nico and I had sex.

It was rushed. In a bar bathroom where we both had gotten carried away grinding drunk on the dance floor with a handful of his teammates. Our hands and mouthes bumped against each other awkwardly. Neither of us removed our underwear, just slid the fabrics to a spot that we could fully connect. We both climaxed fast, the obvious sexual tension between us too much to hold back.

After was awkward; we were only supposed to be friends. We stumbled through the aftermath as we worked our pants back into place. He didn’t want anything serious. I kinda did, but hated the concept of dating. So, we decided we would be cool being once and a whiles with each other. 

There was never any talk of forever. Never a breakfast in the morning. We slept at each other’s places, but it was always quick kisses goodbye as we ran off to our separate lives where we were just friends. I fell in love with him quickly. Nico stayed aloof.

Which is why I don’t understand the look of devastation on his face right now.

“Neeks?” I question, glancing over my shoulder at my date. Nico is silent, staring beyond me to Colton who is sipping on the glass of red wine I poured for him. In Nico’s hand is a brown bag, containing take out from our favorite Thai place. 

“Ah…” He stammers. “Um, I thought I’d bring you dinner. Cause I thought you were working late like you said.” Troubled by guilt, I pinch my cheek between my teeth. I hadn’t wanted to tell him about Colton until I thought it was something real. I still don’t have an answer to that. “But you guys can have it instead.” He thrusts the bag out to me, avoiding my eyes. I can tell he is trying to hide how wounded he is.

“Neeks…” I reach out for his fingers. He pulls his hand away like my skin burns his.

“It’s… yeah. I’ll see you later.” 

“Nico.” I step out of the apartment, watching his pursuit to the elevator. Someone is getting off on my floor so he dashes in immediately. 

The ding of the elevator matches the light bulb illuminating above my brain. We may have never talked about forever, but we also never talked about seeing other people. 

Shit.

The next few weeks, I feel like a stranger to Nico for the first time in three years.

He heads out of town with the team a few times, ignoring every one of my attempts to reach out to him. He’s left me on read, clicked the ‘fuck you’ button when I called, and refused the delivery of my latest attempt: Swiss chocolate truffles.

“I don’t know what to do.” I say to Kristen Haula when we are munching on Avocado Toast and siping mimosas at brunch. “He won’t talk to me.” She shifts awkwardly in her seat.

“I think he was surprised to see you with someone. It’s been a year since you two started whatever… this… is. Plus you did lie to him about what you were doing.” Her eyes widened like she is walking a cautious line between what she knows and what she is willing to share. She isn’t wrong.

“I know. I wanted to know what things were going to be with Colton. But that’s over.” I shake my head, smoothing out the napkin in my lap. “I honestly never thought I was anything special to Nico. With his recent behavior, that seems more true than ever.” Kristen snorts.

“Seriously? How are you two so off base with your feelings?” I stare back at her blankly. “He ordered you a WAG jacket for playoffs this year.” My stomach drops to the floor. “Still think you aren’t anything to him?”

I shudder in recognition. Now this is serious. Casual girlfriends, friends with benefits, puck bunnies, etc- none of them get WAG jackets. Only the women the players see a long-term future with do. And Nico ordered me one. 

“Do you have the jackets yet?” I ask her after a big gulp of my mimosa.

“Yeah.”

“I need a favor.” 

- - -

It’s late when I get to Nico’s apartment the next night. Almost midnight, but he had a game and I couldn’t risk the jackets being seen yet. It’s the most exciting time of year for the NHL wives and girlfriends. I don’t want to ruin their fun while I swing for the fences to woo the Devils captain.

Nico’s doorman knows me and let me into the building with zero hesitation. Clearly, Nico hasn’t told them I’m not welcome anymore. A little bloom of hope fills my chest. Maybe I still have a chance.

My knock on Nico’s door is loud, disturbing the quiet both inside and outside of his space. I bite my lip, hearing his soft footsteps coming to the door. I look down during the pause of him glancing through the peep hole. My ears listen intently, begging for the click of the lock.

It happens. A small smile tugs my lips up. My confidence rushes back in.

“Hi.” I greet him immediately. “Please don’t shut the door.” I hold my hand up. Nico’s eyes are wide and he is speechless, staring at the WAG jacket he ordered for me. It’s gorgeous, made of black leather with red accents. His last name and number are huge on my back. Sparky studs are perfectly placed on the points of the bold letters. It fits perfectly, like I am the only one who could have ever worn it this well.

“I broke our deal.” I blurt out fast.

“What?”

“We said this wasn’t anything serious. But I fell in love with you a really long time ago. I was so scared to tell you and because of that I hurt you. I’m so sorry, Neeks.”

“Yeah, you looked really in love with me with that guy in your apartment.” He scoffs. He’s hurt. His thick eyebrows are furrowed and he will barely look at me.

“That’s not fair.” I shake my head at him. “You never.. told me about how you felt. Now you’re upset with me for having someone else over?” 

“I don’t understand how you could do… that. I can’t think about anybody but you.” 

“Did you consider maybe he was a distraction so I could finally think about somebody else but you Mr. Perfect?” He straightens, jaw getting rigid. He grips the door tighter like he’s preparing to shut it. “But it’s nothing with him. Nothing like what you and I could be. It’s over.” 

Nico looks down at the floor, then slowly drags his gaze back up my body, lingering here and there until his brown eyes get to mine. I can’t read him. I wish he would give me something. But if I have to leap all the way, I will for him.

“If it’s too late, I understand.” I whisper, heart beating so hard in my chest I’m confident he can hear it. “I can go back to what we were. I’ll be anything to you.” I whisper. He steps forward, reaching for my arms. He runs his fingers tentatively over the jacket, then steps forward even more to see his identifiers stitched onto my back. I look up at him, watching every flicker on his face as he brings it closer to mine.

“I want this. With you.” He murmurs, next to my ear. He presses his nose into my cheek. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, turning so our lips collide. He keeps talking between our kisses. “Want my name all over you. On your back, on your driver’s license, right in front of mine as Y/N and Nico Hischier.” 

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“Same reason you did. I’m scared to lose you.” He pulls back so he can look into my eyes. “This is not an easy life.. being with an NHL captain.”

“Cause it’s been so easy being friends with you.” I chuckle back. “I’m not afraid of hard work, Neeks. You know that.” He grins, then wraps his arms around me to bring me into his apartment.

There is nothing left for us to discuss.

This time, it’s clearly defined exactly what we are.

#Nico Hischier x reader #Nico Hischier imagine #NHL imagine #NHL blurb #hockey writing #my writing #b writes

[spagheddiediaz]

snippet sunday 🥤

MEEEEE? POSTING A PART OF A FIC? it's been a minute but we're back 🥲

this is from a fic that i've temporarily labeled baja blast fic and it's just a silly goofy thing ~

“That was not the agreement.” Buck says matter-of-factly as he hops out of the truck. “Uh, that was exactly the agreement.” Hen reminds him. “No,” Buck turns around after hanging up his turnout coat and glares at Hen. “The agreement was you could have Eddie when I wasn’t already working with him.” After Jonah, Buck and Hen had made a promise (pinky promise, actually) that Hen could always have Eddie for paramedic duty while Chim was out. Which had worked out in everyone’s favor, because Chim had an incredible immune system and had strategically planned his vacation time around Hen’s. Except for now, when he’d been talked into a last-minute European honeymoon by Buck and Albert.  “Tomorrow’s Friday.” Bobby points out, looking awfully confused. “You’re off on Fridays? Unless you know something I don’t, in which case-” “He won’t be off if you put him on playdate duty,” Eddie chimes in, giving Buck a very knowing smirk. “You should have seen what happened last time he was alone for two hours with Chris and two of his friends from science class.” Buck had ended up passing out from a sugar crash after eating three nerds ropes, eighteen pink starbursts, and a half gallon of chocolate marshmallow ice cream, and woken up to a lopsided mustache and devil horns drawn on his face. Eddie had walked into quite a scene, and took plenty of photographic evidence before waking Buck up and helping him wash the marker off his face.  “Don’t.” Buck shoots him a pointed look, causing Eddie to snort out a laugh. 

tagged by: @sunshinediaz (fuck you changed your handle and THIS is how i find out smh) @watchyourbuck @kitteneddiediaz @rogerzsteven @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @tizniz @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon

no pressure tagging @puppyboybuckley @jeeyuns @fruitandbubbles @fortheloveofbuddie @honestlydarkprincess @bekkachaos @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @eddiebabygirldiaz @fruitandbubbles @actualalligator @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @disasterbuckdiaz and anyone else who wants to <3

#gonna get myself a baja blast tomorrow and work on this some more #happy premiere week eve friends <3 #b writes #buddie wip #sorry if seeing me in ur tags is a jumpscare i know it's been a minute sorry

[quarantineddreamer]

Jyn Week Day 1: Home

I wasn't sure I was gonna post this, because it's really not my best work. But then again, with the way my brain has been lately not much is! And I wanted to participate and show our girl some love so. Fighting through the perfectionist in me and here's this little thing <3

Though the Rebels had breathed new life into the cave upon their arrival, the network of tight tunnels and sprawling caverns that made up Echo Base had a history that stretched back to a time long before the war. There were stars younger than the stone walls that surrounded them, buried beneath layers of ice so thick, it was unlikely the galaxy would ever uncover the secrets they contained.

It had not taken Jyn long to begin exploring the area, seeking hidden nooks and crannies to which she might escape. Within a week, she had formed a sprawling mental map, memorized the quickest routes to every exit, marked the nearest spaces to duck to when Draven was after her about her latest display of ‘irresponsible/reckless/unacceptable’ behavior–or, when she simply needed quiet. (Which seemed to happen more and more with each passing day spent trapped in this hellhole.)

Tonight, she was bundled in her warmest gear: every thermal layer she possessed, two sweaters, one parka, her hat and scarf, gloves, and four socks pulled one after the other till she could barely squeeze her feet into her boots, much less feel them. 

Clumsiness was the price to pay when you wanted to be up and about at this hour on Hoth–that, or frostbite. It was why, for the most part, no one on Echo Base left their beds after sundown unless they absolutely had to. In temperatures this cold, you’d have to be out of your mind to willingly leave the relative comfort and warmth of your room without very good reason.

Apparently, Jyn was out of her mind, because she’d woken from a dream–the one where the fires of Scarif blinded her one minute, and she was trapped in the cold bunker all alone the next–and crawled out from beneath her blankets. She’d dressed in the dark, moving by instinct more than anything, her skin itching and heart racing as the walls seemed to press closer and closer. Before she’d fully realized what she was doing, she had found herself fumbling by the dim yellow cast of a lantern to a place well-beyond the boundaries of Echo Base.

It would have been all too easy to take a wrong turn–and subsequently freeze to death trying to find her way back–but her body had taken care of her when her mind could not. Before too long she had arrived at a vaguely familiar antechamber, small and circular, with smooth, curving walls.

As she sat and leaned her back into their hard surface, it felt as though she were being held in the palm of some ancient, mysterious being. She took in her surroundings like someone waking up from a dream. Why had her instincts guided her here? 

Then she felt it: air, fresh air; the barest of hints of it brushing across the tip of her nose and suddenly it all made sense. She closed her eyes and drew it deep into her lungs–holding it for a moment with the gratitude of someone reuniting with a long lost friend–before releasing a slow, careful breath. It lingered in the air before her–the ghost of a scared and lonely girl—a swirling cloud of mist, glowing purple. 

Heart in her throat, Jyn lifted her eyes, seeking the source of the strange light. High above her, the chamber’s ceiling of ice and rock gave way, revealing an incredible sweep of night sky, dancing with color. Wind whistled across the opening of the cave…waves whispered upon a black-sanded shore…

“What are they, Mama?”

Her mother’s amused hum tickled at her back. “The Force paints a path home for those that are lost, my love.”

Jyn squirmed beneath the blanket, trying to find her father’s face amidst the orange, flickering shadows of the bonfire. “What are they really, Papa?” 

Mama’s head rested beneath his chin, his arms wrapped around them both, a shield from the wind. He gave her a smile; her favorite kind, the kind he gave her when he asked if she could keep a secret. “You don’t believe your mother?”

Jyn didn’t think her question had anything to do with belief, she simply wanted to know. Mama often told her stories about the Force; stories about love and anger, light and dark, and the threads that tied the world together–just like the ones her favorite blanket was made of. But Papa told her stories too; stories like what kind of soil made the plants on the farm grow, or why her skin turned red after too much time in the sun, or how to fix Stormy when his arm fell off. Mama’s stories were stories she saw and felt on the inside, while Papa’s were ones she held in her hands. But they were both a part of her, pieces she carried with her wherever she went. 

She studied the sky again, following the splashes of purple and green and blue as they wove their way between clusters of stars. She wondered what it would feel like to stand on one of the rippling bands of light; tried to imagine stepping one foot after the other across the horizon as her mother had described. Maybe it would be warm, like sand in the sun, or maybe it would be more like waves lapping at her feet, cold and tingly. 

“A scientist’s daughter through and through,” Mama laughed. “I recognize that look in her eyes…”

Jyn wasn’t sure what exactly she meant by that, but she tore her gaze away from the lights in the sky and turned towards her father instead, ready for his answer.

His skin shimmered green, then blue, and back again, the same colors as the ones that hung in the air above them. “The path your mother spoke of is made of particles, shed by our planet’s suns.”

Jyn frowned at this. “But it’s nighttime.”

“Just because we cannot see something, does not mean it is no longer there,” Papa explained, reaching over to tug the blanket back over her shoulders. “Tonight, the aurora reminds us that the suns have not left us, and they will rise again tomorrow.”

She twisted to face Mama again. “So the suns are the Force?”

“The Force is the suns,” her mother murmured reverently, “and the wind, and the waves, and the sand beneath you. It’s the salt on your tongue when you breathe in and…” she smiled as she poked Jyn’s nose with the tip of her finger, “that means it’s a part of you, and me, and your Papa too.”

Jyn settled into her parent’s arms again and shut her eyes, feeling for the Force her mother spoke of. She wasn’t sure what it was supposed to feel like. 

But she thought there might be some truth to her parents’ words, because though she could not see them anymore, she could sense them there beside her. The comfort of her mother’s heartbeat under her ear, the warmth of her father’s breath as he bent to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

And if she were to find herself lost and standing amidst the aurora, she felt certain this was where they would bring her.

The colors of the sky began to blur and run together. Jyn wiped roughly at her eyes, urging tears away before they could turn to frost upon her cheek. Hoth was more than a far cry from the beaches of Lah’mu, yet she felt closer to it now than she had in a long time.

“Beautiful,” a voice murmured, echoing quietly off the stone around her. 

Jyn started, turning towards the rasp of footsteps. “Cassian…” Leave it to the spy to find her in the middle of a labyrinth in the dead of night.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked warily, taking one last self-conscious swipe at her face with the sleeve of her coat. 

“Not long,” he answered, lingering at the entrance to the cavern.

But long enough… Jyn figured. She heaved a short sigh and returned her gaze to the aurora, an ache in her chest. “There were lights like this on Lah’mu,” she murmured, an explanation of sorts–though Cassian had not asked for one. 

He ducked past the icicle that hung in from the tunnel’s opening and silently came to sit beside her, his shoulder brushing against her own. Though it barely made a difference in a cold this numbing, Jyn found herself drawing comfort from the warmth of his body beside her. 

“How’d you find this place?” he asked softly. 

She glanced at him, but he was looking at the lights above, granting her a reprieve from the weight of his stare. “How’d you find me?” she countered. 

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, but his eyes were serious when they landed on her again. “I went to your room and you weren’t there. For a moment I thought…” he shook his head and took a sudden interest in his boots.

“You thought I’d left?” 

“I didn’t know what to think. I checked the infirmary next.” There was an odd strain to his voice, something she couldn’t quite place. “No one had seen you there either, so I headed towards the perimeter,” a small smile crossed his lips, “I’ve noticed you wander to the edges of Base when you’re trying to avoid Draven.”

“Of course you did,” Jyn remarked. “Then what?”

“I followed the light…” 

“And it led you here…” The memory of her mother’s story–still fresh in Jyn’s mind–began to mingle with words Cassian had once spoken to her. The kyber crystal she wore seemed suddenly heavier than it had a moment ago, a hand resting over her heart. 

She thought of Bodhi, Chirrut, Baze, even K2. Of all the people who she had gotten to know because of the Rebellion. People who had her back. People who might not understand all of her, but who accepted her nonetheless.

“Hoth is the first time we’ve really slowed down since Scarif,” Cassian said, ignoring her sudden glance at the mention. “I know it can be hard to adjust to life in the Rebellion.”

A tentative smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Yeah,” she replied, catching a ripple of light and shadow as it wandered across his face. “I've been feeling lost…but I think I’m beginning to find my way.”

#jynweek #jynappreciationsquad #rogue one fanfic #b writes #jyn erso #galen erso #lyra erso #cassian andor #(rc if you squint but you def dont have to whatsoever) #this is probably gonna get buried in boops and thats okay too <3

[lifeofclonewars]

My contribution to @codyday2224, also known as how Cody got his scar in the marching au

#b writes #commander cody #cody day #cody day 2224 #marching au #captain rex #since he's also a big part of it #tw blood #tw hospital #tw fainting #i wanted to wait until it was officially cody day my time #so here it is #i need to sleep now

[yourarmsmyhome]

Look at my baby looking all cute and cuddly!

After he spent most of his birthday on the plane. Which got me thinking... some nsfw thoughts under the cut, indulge me.

Jisung walked down the aisle of the airplane cabin. He was still giddy and buzzing from the VMA win, and their performance in front of an international star studded audience. Once he found his seat, he flopped down and stretched out his legs. He made himself comfortable, chose an album to listen to, before pulling his noise canceling headphones onto his ears and wrapping himself into a blanket.

Leaning back in his seat, he didn't think he would be able to go to sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, and his birthday being just a few short hours away. He didn't love the idea of spending most of his birthday on the plane, but he was happy to be on his way home and looking forward to sleeping in his own bed again after a busy few months. He pushed down the blinds of the window and closed his eyes, feeling the swooping in his stomach once the plane took off.

The next time he opened his eyes Minho was kneeling next to him, breath ghosting over Jisung's face, gently rubbing his shoulder, and removing Jisung's headphones.

"Happy birthday, Jagiya!", he whispered with a smirk.

Jisung rubbed his eyes sleepily and tapped his phone to look at the time. He had just officially turned 23, and would have definitely slept through most of the flight and with it his birthday. He shifted his eyes back to Minho's, smiling. Of course his boyfriend would be the first one to congratulate him, a warm feeling filled his chest at the thought.

"Your present is waiting for you at home, Han-ah, but I've been thinking," he moved closer, leaning into Jisung's space and continued with a soft whisper "You should become a member of the Mile High Club for your birthday." He leaned back and smiled innocently, eyes glinting in the dimmed airplane lights, before getting up and slowly walking to the airplane bathroom a few rows behind Jisung's seat.

Jisung's breath hitched, his brain was still fuzzy from sleep, but his stomach twisted, thrilled by Minho's offer. He looked around the cabin and didn't see anybody paying attention to him as he slowly pushed away his blanket and got up. The walk to the bathroom felt longer than expected, his heart hammering loudly in his chest.

Once he pushed the restroom door open, Minho was on him - hands wrapping around Jisung's torso, blindly swiping the lock closed behind him, their bodies pressed close, his hair tickling Jisung's face and his lips next to Jisung's earlobe: "You'll have to be extra quiet today baby. We wouldn't want to cause any scenes here, would we?"

Jisung shook his head softly, humming gently, eyes sliding shut, when Minho's lips brushed his cheek and landed on his just a breath later. Jisung inhaled sharply when Minho's teeth pulled on his bottom lip, hands grabbing his waist, pushing Jisung against the door and leaning into him. Jisung loved being this close to Minho, feeling his heartbeat and heavy breaths, their bodies matching in all aspects, synchronized, one.

Minho's lips left a trail of kisses along his cheek, jaw, down his neck and finally reached his clavicle, softly biting, careful not to leave a mark. He pulled Jisung's sweater up then dipped down to lick at one of his pink nipples, teeth grazing the sensitive spot. Jisung's breath stuttered, his hands automatically grabbing onto Minho's arms, fingers digging into the muscle. Minho lifted his eyes to Jisung's, slowly licking along his pec, Jisung's head lolled back, bumped the door with a thud. He heard Minho giggle softly before moving onto his waist, then his hip bone, alternating between soft kisses and harsh bites, dragging his teeth along the bone, making Jisung hiss. When Minho's hands skimmed along the waistband of his pants, Jisung whimpered. He had a hard time being quiet on a good day, with Minho knowing all the ins and outs of his body, but being surrounded by people, way up high in the air Jisung felt lightheaded. Soft moans falling from his lips when Minho finally unbuttoned his pants and pressed a palm against his bulge. Minho's mouth was on him again, seconds later. Jisung could feel Minho's lips and breath through his underwear, mouth parted around his erection, dragging it along the length, until he reached the head, sucking and licking over it, leaving a wet spot on the fabric Jisung knew he would feel even after they were done.

Finally Minho removes the piece of fabric, dropping it to the floor unceremoniously, before his hands were on Jisung's bare ass, groping and kneading, making Jisung's eyes flutter shut again, a whimper escaping his lips.

"Jagiya...", Minho breathes against his freed erection, "shhh"

Jisung bites his bottom lip, trying hard not to whimper. Then Minho's hand wraps around the base, his tongue pressing along his length, slowly licking from base to tip, eyes on Jisung's, before he sinks his mouth around him, sucks hard, hollowing out his cheeks, making Jisung's thoughts dissipate, another moan escaping his lips.

Minho stops suddenly, releasing his grip on Jisung, leaving him confused, eyes searching Minho's face, a second later he is back in Jisung's space. One hand covering Jisung's mouth, the other back on Jisung's dick, fist closing around him, another moan escapes and gets trapped in Minho's palm. Minho's lips are close to Jisung's ear again, "Jagiya, do you want to get caught?" Jisung can only whimper against Minho's palm in response as Minho speeds up his strokes, grinding his own erection into Jisung's hip. His hand stays firmly on Jisung's lips, pumping Jisung's penis into his fist. "Are you going to cum for me Jagiya?" he whispers as Jisung's breathing speeds up, hips stuttering into Minho's grip, a silent moan stuck in his throat when he finally cums into Minho's hand.

Minho releases his grip on Jisung. Wipes him down quickly and presses another kiss on his cheek. "Happy birthday Jagiya!"

Jisung gulps, pulls his pants back up before stealing a kiss from Minho's lips. "Thank you for making it special Hyung!"

#happy birthday hannie #skz smut #minsung #my home #stupid for you #b writes #han jisung x lee minho #han jisung smut

[worldoftom]

Blep! 👅 [18+]

words » 16.3k

verse » Fantasy & Putts [18+]

pairing » roommate fwb actor Tom x fem reader

warnings » all smut, explicit warnings under the cut

disclaimer » this story is 18+ ; unsuitable for minors

special thanks » @hypnotized-so-mesmerized​ ; @nowayhomeparker​ ; @spidey-sophie​ ;

b’s note » hey everyone! this came out of nowhere, but in the fantasyverse Tom gets so much oral and y/n not so much, which isn’t fair, right? our poor y/n. so here it is, a oneshot feat. *drumroll please* cunnilingus! lots and lots of it! and the best part is: it can be read as a standalone, no need to read what happens before :D a very special thank you to my hoes because this wouldn’t exist without our fascination with that picture of Tom in the pink polo, you’re the best 😍

fantasyverse masterpost | main masterlist

explicit warnings : Tom eats out a lot (not at a restaurant) aka oral sex, fem receiving in several places, including standing by a window (they don’t get interrupted, but the Harries are aware of shenanigans) and the garden + creampie & y/n recording it on camera, Tom gets so excited about it, it’s adorable + oral sex, male receiving in a bathroom. i think that’s it! also please don’t try this at home, it’s just fiction, nobody should be expected to have such a short recovery time!

~ ⛳️ ~

(timeline: springtime, six months after MFL)

So. Here’s how it happened.

It was just a roommates night out and it was all about fun because it had been too long since you’ve all hung out together. You have been the one to spend the most time at home, thanks to your now full-time job at the Toasty Den and the vlog channel you still manage to create content for every week.

As for the boys, Tuwaine is the one you see the most, even though he comes and goes; as far as you know, he spends a lot of time at his family home. Tom’s been out of the country for a month and will go back to work in only a few days. Sometimes Harry goes with him, but when he doesn’t, he’s always going in and out of town with Harrison to work on their doctrails—or so they say. And Sam spends most of his time away because he’s enrolled in a twelve-week culinary course, and when he isn’t in class, he applied to an apprenticeship in a restaurant a couple of towns over.

This means it’s really tough to gather them all for a few hours of fun. Not knowing when it might happen again in the future, you wanted to document pretty much everything, which was why you brought out the new camera that Tom bought for your half anniversary.

Harry freaked out when he saw it, twirling it around in his hands. “This was such a good choice, oh my god, you’ve gotta let me try it out.”

“Nope, sorry mate,” you said, making ‘gimme’ gestures with your palms turned upward. “This baby contains very sensitive pieces you don’t wanna be messing around with.”

Harry let it drop onto the kitchen island counter right away. “You’re gross.”

After that, since he wanted to check the quality so badly, you went upstairs and deleted anything that could compromise the original purpose of the new camera and later, you took your new baby out for a spin. Harry experimented a little like a boy with a new Christmas present, you took some pictures of everyone as well, and by the end of the night the memory card was filled with plenty of great moments among friends.

Tuwaine and Harrison were in charge of the night’s activities. And boy, was it messy and fun. It started with a drinking card game at home to get you all pumped, then a late dinner at a new pub Harrison had been obsessed with, a short visit to this ‘Glow In The Park’ party that was being held at the city park —though you all spent more time getting drunk by the spiked ice cream sundae bar truck than anything else— and finally you went clubbing. Tuwaine’s choice. And it was perfect.

In the club, neon lights distorting everyone’s sight, it was dark and loud and hot. Especially Tom. He was in a tight patterned shirt and your favorite jeans, scrumptiously snug around his perky bum, and he was all glowing and toned and huge because he’d been on a serious muscle-up plan at the gym for his next acting role. His thighs had gotten thick, his shoulders massive, his biceps no longer fit in any of his tops so he kept dragging a finger under the sleeves to, you believe, alleviate the pressure of being a proper hunk. And of course, you being absolutely smitten with his fingers, that’s not news to anyone, you kept staring at him and he always caught you just when your eyes were skimming down his veiny arms and focused on his gorgeous hands. Fuck.

“Take a picture, darlin’, it will last you longer,” he taunted you one of those times, wrapping an arm around your waist and blowing a raspberry into the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder.

“I’ll take a picture when they’re in my cunt,” you nearly spat at him as you grabbed his hand and tugged him closer.

“I will gladly make that a photoshoot, just name a date and a time.”

Then you dragged him to the dance floor, but all you wanted was to fuck yourself on his hand with the music loud around you and everybody lost in the sway and sweat of the crowd. Tom, however, he’d be enraptured by the column of your throat and the curve of your ass and the curl of his fingers kneading your sweet spot on repeat. But sadly none of that happened.

You do have a little decorum. Occasionally.

After a while, you followed like a kitten as he strolled towards the bar to fetch another round, but when you got there, he must have sensed your presence —or probably saw your reflection in the mirror behind the counter— because he turned around with a couple of beers in his hands and bumped into you. Spilling them all over your cleavage.

“Fuck. Meee,” you cursed at the cold liquid slithering down between your breasts.

Tom’s face showed no surprise, only a smug grin. “Whoops. Guess we’re gonna have to go home.”

Asshole.

You went home right after, as he expected you to. Tom’s hand was heavy on your knee on the taxi ride over, nails digging into the pliant flesh on the underside, his leg bouncing anxiously as he tried to contain his excitement. And as soon as you stepped foot inside the house, the lock barely closed behind you, his mouth was on you and that same leg slipped between your thighs, pressing up. Shoes were thrown into the hallway, your purse lost somewhere in the middle. You pressed the camera into your chest and sneaked your other palm inside Tom’s shirt, all while his hands groped your body.

You started going up the stairs with him in tow, lips sucking a wet kiss into your neck, but you tripped on nothing and he tripped on you when he tried to catch you, and you fell on your ass, and he ended up with his head at the level of your waist. Both of you laughed like crazy at the mess of limbs spread everywhere. Being slightly touched by alcohol as he was, he bit on the side of your breast and kissed your half exposed tummy, and then tugged on the edge of your skirt until it was all hiked up around your hips.

Before you noticed it, he was pushing your knickers to the side and diving headfirst between your thighs. It was so good while it lasted, his hands holding you up, his nose breathing over your clit, the relentless jabs of his tongue past the ring of tight muscles. Though after the first, heaven-sent stretch of his fingers into you, the lock on the door clicked and you had to bolt out of there.

By the time you got upstairs, you were laughing so hard at the mess of the night and slightly disgusted by the stench of beer on your bosom, and the mood faded. It didn’t help that Tom was fast asleep by the time you got out of the shower, either.

So here you are now, sitting on the window seat in your shared bedroom, in a flimsy top and your knickers because your bottoms were driving you mad, extremely horny and extremely wet, thinking of Tom’s crooked mouth and his beautiful dick. That loser really had to leave for a work meeting at morning-fuck o’clock, didn’t he? He’s unbelievable. He lets you sit on his lap, teases you, and then bails on you. It’s ridiculous. Although he did suggest a self pleasure fest in bed after he left, and you did try, but it ended in frustration. You couldn’t stop picturing his fingers and his thighs and his cock, but had absolutely nothing like them to bounce on.

You sigh.

You’re waiting for him to come back home after his meeting, though you think he mentioned a brunch with his mates or something like that. This means it might be a while before he returns, so you have to entertain yourself somehow.

Adjusting your position on the cushion to keep your legs from being cramped under your ass, you pull the camera out of its bag and connect it to your laptop. It’s propped on the large windowsill, and you click through the photos from last night, from the pub to the Glow In The Park party and many more.

From group pictures to singles and doubles and trouples, there’s a bit of everything hidden in the memory card. Tom is in most of them, either with all of his friends and their silly ways, or with Harrison because those two love sharing the camera, or under Tuwaine’s arm reaching up to kiss his neck or his face, or with his brothers in what you have learned to be a tradition of theirs, Tom in the middle with his arms around them. Pictures of the two of you, of course, and of just him with his tongue out or in his favorite poses, a wide grin with his eyes scrunched closed or his middle finger pointed at the photographer.

There’s a sequence of images on what you think might be the way to the club at the end of the night, clearly taken by Harry from the back. You’re walking ahead of him, showing something on your phone to Tom, who seems unaware of it in the first picture, looking over his shoulder and flipping the camera in the second one, a third one where he’s looking at the phone, and a last one where you’re both laughing at whatever you had found, his arm around you by then. You don’t remember the specifics of that moment, but it did result in a few cute shots.

Already at the club, the next photos are darker and less frequent. A few interesting ones at the table where you were stationed with your drinks that you take note for later, but for the most part it’s pictures of the six of you. You do click onto ones of just Tom, flipping you off and with his mouth open trying to tell you something, and then his palm getting closer and closer to the lens because he wanted you to stop taking pictures and go dancing with him.

And apparently, you did. On the dance floor, it’s obvious that you tried to take pictures, but they came out dark and blurry. There are videos, though, and they’re all pretty decent, the boys having a good time though the focus shifts to Tom. He’s hilarious when he thinks he’s being a sexy dancer. You shake your head at his laughable dance moves on the screen. After, you find a couple of selfies of you, of you and the boys in silent cheers, arms in the air and all because they’re silly and dramatic like that, and finally of you and Tom. You’re both smiling in one, in the next you’re smiling and he’s wiping something off your brow with a sweet look on his face —you totally stop on that one for a few seconds, saving a copy into the cloud— followed by one where his mouth has dropped to an affronted ‘oh’ because you’re shoving his face off camera. And in the next one, it’s just his ass.

You remember this moment in particular quite well. After the selfies, you were going to take another one with Tom’s squinty face in the background when someone knocked into you and you had to move the camera away. It seems to have clicked anyway, so all you got was a shot of his ass in the dark. You adjust a few filters to brighten it up just to check, and yep, that’s a pretty centered picture of Tom’s remarkable bum. You’d find it hilarious if it wasn’t so pretty.

A couple of random pictures of the crowd later, there’s another video. A shorter, sneakier one, though you don’t recall what was going through your mind at the time. The scene in itself doesn’t seem familiar, but it was clearly filmed by you. Tom is mouthing the lyrics of the song with his eyes closed, sipping his beer next. For a little while, the image zooms in on his face —well, on his jaw, let’s be honest— as he sways along to the music. When it zooms out, Harrison’s face comes into shot and you can perceive him shouting, “You’re here to dance, missy!” and then there’s your laugh and when the video freezes at the end, Tom’s very furrowed brow is front and center.

Anything after that is blurry as hell. What is supposed to be a group photo after you left the dance floor for more drinks, one of the twins making a toast, another of Tom, Harrison and Tuwaine making a stupid pose you believe was their hallmark in acting school, and several others, it’s all a mess of color and distorted faces.

“What the fuck.”

It seems as though someone wasn’t in a good state by that time. You don’t remember drinking that much, but clearly you were wrong.

Laughing at it, you realize that not all of the next photos are like this. There are very, very clear photos of Tom’s hands and Tom’s forearms and Tom’s neck, which leaves you questioning your drunk self’s intentions. In one of them, he’s standing by the table, his brothers around him having a conversation, but he’s staring at the dance floor, a beer bottle between his hands, and his tongue is poking out of the corner of his mouth. If you remember correctly from what you’ve seen so far, it’s something you caught him doing a lot throughout the night.

A lightbulb turns on brightly in your mind.

You figure that Tom’s meeting must be over by now, so you decide to send him this picture because it won’t bother him if he’s already at brunch or on his way over. You save the photo in a folder in your cloud and grab your phone to crop it to an appropriate size, with his face at the top and his veiny hands at the bottom, blurring out the background around him.

When it’s ready, you open Tom’s favorite messaging app and send it to him.

You: what do you think about when your tongue goes 😛

Not expecting him to answer right away, you go back to the laptop and search for those pictures of what you believe are accidental close-ups of his body. You want to save those as well. For a rainy day…

Tom’s reply comes after you’re finished deleting them from the camera’s memory card.

Tom: depends

Tom: but mostly ⛳️!

You: Why did i even ask

Tom: you tell me darling

Tom: what do you want me to be thinkin about 😏😏😏

You: I’m gonna wipe that f-ing emoji off your phone

As it is, his response turns you on more than it should. You hate those damned smirking emojis, but you can imagine his face while he’s choosing them from the huge list of yellow little faces at his disposal. You’ve seen it so often by now. He’s a cheeky little fuck by nature, but things get naturally more difficult for you when you’re as extra horny as you are at the moment.

The problem was that while Tom was gone for the last month, he kept traveling back and forth and the time zones were tricky to get a phone call in, so you did most of your talking to him via text message. Which sucked. When he came back on Wednesday, he was exhausted, and Thursday was an awful day for you at the Den, and on Friday he had a few errands to run and then you went out with the boys, so there was no time to quench that one month old thirst.

Hence the state of your legs right now. They’re weak, craving him, and wet in the middle.

Instead of sitting there in frustration, you take a few pictures of yourself and choose the perfect one to send to him. It’s mostly your naked belly, panties peeking at the bottom and a hint of a nipple at the top. First, you send him a little heads-up:

You: 18+ picture incoming

You: Watch your back!

Then you select the picture and choose the temporary message option at the bottom to make sure it won’t stay visible in the chat after he sees it. The message status turns to ‘seen’ almost immediately.

Tom: tease

You: Blep 😛

Tom: its pussy oclock and i’m stuck at brunch 😡😡😡

You: 💦🐈 waiting for 👅

You’re not sure if that sequence of emojis makes total sense, but Tom has seen it and he sends back a cheeky emoticon:

Tom: :D!

He must have understood the message.

Afterwards, every half hour, you send another message: a 💦 emoji after a clock emoji, always showing a different time up to 12—which you interpret as a countdown to zero. He doesn’t respond until after the third message, sending you three middle finger emojis and his favorite exclamation points.

Tom: 🖕🖕🖕 !!!

You stop with the texts and focus on flicking through the photos, paying more attention to detail. In one of the pictures at the pub, Tom has once more his tongue poking out of his mouth, and you send that picture to him.

You: BLEP 😛

You: Blep my pussy as often as you do this mf

He replies a few minutes later.

Tom: is this your idea of sexting

Tom: (its working)

You laugh at his response because how could you not. He gets you.

Later, a while after you’ve put down your laptop and started working on a rich salad for lunch, you have your phone resting on the kitchen island counter when it pings and buzzes once.

Tom: guess who

Shortly after you read it, he sends a selfie. A close-up of his face with his tongue tipping at the corner of his mouth. And a second one of him with his eyes all wide and fully sticking out his tongue. From what little you see of the background, it seems like he’s in the car already.

You want to send something back that follows the mood of your previous conversation with him. Something that will show him how you���re still craving him for more than just a sweet welcome home hug. The loveseat in the corner of the kitchen catches your attention. You sit on it and spread your knees, taking a picture of your thighs with a space large enough for Tom in the middle.

You: There’s an empty spot waiting for you

Tom: 😛😛😛

Tom: actually no

You: WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO

Tom: I MEAN

Tom: 👅👅👅

You: Oh

You: 🤤

Safe to say, it isn’t a salad that you want to have for lunch.

~~

When Tom arrives, he marches up to you with his mouth in a tight line and greets you with an intoxicating kiss, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other hand grabbing and squeezing a butt cheek. It’s full of tongue and teeth and pure hunger, leaving you breathless in a matter of seconds.

“What’s gotten into you?” you gasp out a question, thumbing at the corner of your mouth to wipe a little spit.

“Nothing,” he says, breathing heavily. “But I’m getting into you.”

You chuckle at him, but have no time to react. He smacks your butt and says, “Get that hot arse upstairs, young lady. Gonna blep that pussy so hard you’ll pass the fuck out.”

“Uh, excuse me?”

The Harries are right behind him. Not even you had seen them. Tom apologizes, but dismisses them with a gesture of his shoulder, adding, “We’ll see you at dinner.” And as he pushes you past the living room and up the stairs, your bottom lip doesn’t leave its spot between the two rows of your teeth.

You expected this, after being interrupted last night and not getting it off your mind this morning, but you didn’t think he would be this raw with you. Or with them. Nevertheless, you follow the touch on the small on your back and trek all the way to the bedroom, with the ghost of Tom’s breath hot on the nape of your neck.

“You look so pretty today, baby,” he whispers into your ear once you cross the invisible border between the hallway and the bedroom. Kicking the door closed, he grabs your hand and twirls you on your feet a couple of times, stepping forward and stopping you mid-turn so you’ll crash against his chest. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this morning the whole time.”

“How come?” you tease, wrapping both arms around his neck.

“Can’t believe that stupid alarm went off when you were about to sit on my dick,” he grunts into a peck.

“Guess we need better time management skills,” you say to him, collecting his soft, smiling lips into a proper kiss.

It lasts less than a few seconds. Tom pulls away with a smack and says, “Now. Where’d you take that picture?” You blink at him, unsure which one he means. “The one with the legs. ‘Cause I fucking loved it and I want to claim the spot you saved for me.”

You hum into his mouth, then say, “Sadly that was downstairs, so—”

“Okay, that’s out of the question.”

“The Harries would kill you.” You chuckle, thinking back to his brother and friend, your roommates and friends too, and to how tired they must be of sharing a house with two people like you and Tom. “And me.”

Truth is, you both have caught them in the action as well in the past six or so months. The house is big enough for the six of you, but it’s not a freaking mansion. Not to mention that the walls are thin and the piping in the bathrooms is the same as every other smaller house in the country. Sound travels. Fast. So you and Tom have had your scares, too. It’s not often, but it happens. In the end, it’s tit for tat.

“Yeah, they would, and I’m already on very thin ice.”

“Maybe you should control yourself a little,” you suggest with a giggle.

Tom gasps and smacks your butt jokingly. “Uh, I’m sorry, miss, who climbed on who’s lap this morning?”

“But that’s different,” you remind him. “They weren’t here this morning.”

“And I didn’t think they were there just now,” he groans, rubbing an eye with one hand, the other wrapped around yours now. “Oh, I know just the spot. Here, sit over there.”

You look at where he’s pointing even though you know exactly where he means.

“The window seat?” Tom shrugs like it was so obvious. And okay, knowing him and his exhibitionist ways, it was.

“Do you not want to? We could do—”

“No, no. It’s fine, champ. It’s just a little… narrow, that’s all.”

It’s a 24-inch wide bench, so you can see it working a little, but judging by his haste right now, it could end up in disaster.

“We’ll make it work.”

He makes sure to push the curtains to the side before tapping the cushion where he wants you. It’s right in front of the largest of the three windows surrounding the seat. As you turn on your heels to do sit down, he stops you and keeps you turned to the window, tilting your torso forward a little bit. You look for support on the glass and look behind you at his puzzled expression, sensing the hand on your waist before you actually see it. Tom undoes the button at the front of your shorts, the zipper, then removes them and your underwear at the same time, exposing you to the room. He throws both garments somewhere behind him, but you don’t check where. Then, he needs just a couple of seconds to slide his hand up the inside of your thigh, seeking your wetness between the legs.

“Had a better idea,” he says with a grin, giving your butt a light slap, adding, “Knee on the seat, baby. Lean forward and push those lovely hips backwards, will you, hm? For me?”

With each of his words, his hot hand massages your sex, fingertips resting at the top of your mound when he cups you there. Tom helps you get into position, placing your left knee further apart than you would have and pushing your head until your cheek rests on the glass, ass tipped back in an angle that would require him only to drop to his knees to get a face full of cunt. Which is exactly what he does.

You moan at the very first sight of him down there, at the first press of his tongue in your slit, at the first poke of his nose so close to your needy hole. Hips pushed back, you enjoy the little licks and the little dabs and the really pointy tip of his tongue slithering over every inch where it’s wet. His hands grasp your butt before they move downward and spread your lips apart so he can reach your clit with an acute angle of his neck. He keeps moving up and down, dipping it here, lapping up there, with the tip or the whole pad or even the sides from what you can tell, sucking on your lips or the nub that’s starting to swell up with blood, or even on the patch of skin right under your thigh, which shouldn’t turn you on so much but it does.

When he grasps your hips in his arms and pulls you even closer to his face, his mouth opens over your pussy and he applies an insane amount of suction. Bits of slippery skin sucked into his mouth with a loud wet noise that drives a shiver up your spine and burns in your ears. Your eyes close at the sensation, but then you flutter them open at what you see outside. Downstairs.

Harry is doing something in the garden. All it would take is a glance to the upper floor of the house and he’d get a very explicit view of your face against the glass and the top of your breasts showing through your top. You try to move away, not wanting to expose yourself like that and make things worse between the two brothers, but as you do, your hips flinch back and Tom has his mouth open and his tongue slides straight into your hole.

“Fuck,” you can’t help but moan, calling Tom’s name in a hoarse voice, followed by, “Again. Fuck yeah.” And he does it again and again and again, fucking your little hole that clenches around his tongue when it slips inside. It’s so good, and it shouldn’t be because it’s so thin and small compared to what you usually have up in there.

Tom drives forward with his shoulders and your body slams against the window. So much for not wanting to expose yourself. Your mouth fogs the window and your nipples chafe on the back cushion despite the fabric, knee sliding in the seat and spreading you open even more. You ride his tongue just like that, letting out desperate tiny ‘oh oh oh’s through your open, panting mouth.

You’re getting so fucking close by now, your insides churning with it, but you must say something or make some kind of noise that Tom recognizes because he pulls back and smacks your ass hard.

“Not so fast, young lady,” he says, slapping your cunt right after. The force of it jolts through you at lightning speed.

“Uhh, Tom,” you whine and try to press back into him, but he’s already gone.

He’s up on his feet and grabs you by the hair. You think he’s going to pull backward, towards him, but instead he presses your face against the glass and licks a straight line from your jaw all the way up to your temple.

“What were you looking at, darling?” he asks in a murmur, biting into your ear lobe.

“Nothing,” you say, flicking your eyes to the garden and finding both Harries out there now.

“It’s never nothing with you, uh,” he taunts, his face really close to yours, eyes also seeing what you saw just now. “Fucking Harries, y’know? I mean, I love those dudes, I do, but sometimes I really wish we had kept the other flat.” You moan at the thought. Unspeakable things would happen if you and Tom were to live by yourselves, you just know it. “Would you have liked that, baby girl? Just me and you, getting naked everywhere, as loud as you fucking want.”

You try to respond, but your cheek is too tight on the glass and your throat is too tight from his previous ministrations, so all that comes out is a garbled, “Nghhhhh.” It means absolutely nothing at all and everything at the same time.

“We’d have so much sex on that bloody balcony,” he moans. “You know that, right?”

There’s no denying that the balcony sex was pretty hot, and that you have rarely said no to anything he suggested in bed. It’s safe to say you would have sex out there every other day if that’s what he wanted. You truly just can’t resist him and that’s the truth.

“Alright, enough of scaring those two to death,” he says, letting go of your hair and dropping a sweet kiss on your cheek. When you look through the window, the Harries are nowhere to be seen. You can only hope they didn’t look up.

Tom moves first next, helping you straighten back on your feet. Your legs aren’t too wobbly, so you let go of his hand right after with a faint thanks and a quick peck on the lips. He disappears to the left, and the next time you see him, he’s lying down on the window seat, his eyes on you and his bare feet climbing up the seat next to your legs.

There isn’t a lot of room for him. It’s barely enough for a person to sit up straight, really, but he looks so small lying there on his back, though one of his shoulders isn’t supported by the bench at all. He’s become so massive that it makes sense that he doesn’t fit, but somehow he does make it work. Just like he said he would.

“C’mere,” he asks, patting his chest. “Come sit on my face, darling.”

“Can’t say no to that,” you giggle, unwary of the risks. Of course you won’t fit with your knees around his head, his neck and shoulders take up too much space, so you prop your foot on the bench the best you can and the other stays on the floor. You’re a little slanted to the side, but Tom has both hands on your ass and pulls you onto his mouth before you can make sure the position is right.

Everything is misaligned down there, and he ends up kissing the cleft of your ass instead. Tugging you to one side and then even closer, Tom lifts his neck and gives you a long lick from top to bottom. Your hips hesitate and press down on him to find an open mouth awaiting. He manages to suck on your lips and on your clit a little, but he can’t make his arms work to keep you spread open, and you need both hands to balance your weight on top of him. You can see what’s going to happen mere seconds before it does.

“Fucking— fuck,” he curses and tugs on your ass again. As if that would be a good idea.

You topple over him and collapse with your face on his groin, his cock almost poking your eye if you didn’t swerve to the side, your legs give out and you hit your ankles on a piece of wood and his hands don’t provide support enough. So you end up rolling off of him, and he rolls off of the seat, and you both drop to the floor with muffled painful cries.

“Fuck.” You half sigh, half giggle.

“Fuck indeed,” Tom fully laughs, hiding his face in his hands. “Moving on. This is part of it, isn’t it?”

“Sure,” you say, still giggling, accepting his hand so you’ll both get up on your feet. Tom guides you back onto the seat, sitting your butt on it this time and keeping your legs apart with both hands on your knees.

“There we go,” he says, kneeling in between them.

“Now that’s your spot.”

“Exactly. What the fuck was I thinking?” Tom giggles, placing a small kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Let’s go back to business.”

The moment Tom leans forward and grabs your hips to dive back into kissing your pussy, you immediately regret his choice. You’re fully seated and you won’t fall from here, probably, you think, and he’s on the floor which is fine, but the bench is too low for what he’s trying to achieve. At least with a torso as large as his right now.

Somehow, he manages to slip his shoulders under your thighs and he gets a little lick on your clit, but then he pulls back and sighs. “This isn’t what I expected, it’s too—”

“Low,” you complete the sentence for him.

“Yeah.” He sighs, caressing your thighs as he looks around. “You can’t move any further on this thing, can you?”

“Nope, I’m right at the edge. Maybe we should—” You want to suggest the bed since you both know that will be a secure place for what he’s planning to do, but he shushes you before you can speak.

“We can make this work,” he insists. “Hang on. Put this foot up— No, no, no, wait. I got it. Lie back.”

He proceeds to place you where he envisions it will be a decent spot. You lie down on the seat with your left side pressed against the pillows on the back, your left foot on it with your knee propped up. The other leg is still stretched in the cushion beneath you, but then he moves it upward and to the right, spreading you open. He’s still kneeling on the floor and slips his head underneath your right knee, so you sort of lay your thigh over his shoulders. You must look ridiculous from a distance, but the determined gaze in Tom’s eyes keeps that embarrassing thought at bay.

“This is so not gonna work…” you trail off. There’s no way you’re not putting too much weight on him, but if you lift your leg from where it’s resting on him, you will be all tense and you’ll feel nothing.

“Of course it will work,” he says with a kiss on the bottom of your belly. “Alright, here we go.”

His face is lined up with your middle but sideways, so when he sticks a thumb into you and sucks on your clit, it’s different but good and just as intense as before, and you let yourself enjoy it. You’re somewhat comfortable and he seems okay as well. The laps of his tongue and the fingertip he keeps buried at your entrance help you forget everything, first quietly, but soon bucking your hips up to meet him halfway.

At one point, you have to shift your back because there’s something weird pressed at the bottom, probably one of the pillows you forgot to remove, which means you move your leg to the side and your knee knocks against Tom’s head.

“No violence please,” he giggles into your cunt, angling his head in such a way that his tongue licks at the top of your hole while he slips a long finger in and out of you. He pumps it repeatedly for a little while, and at a particularly sharp brush on your spot, with his nose nudging your clit, the pressure builds inside you, your back arches, and your mouth fills with a moan.

There’s a little pleasure and a little pain, the odd position keeping things new and innovative. It’s not a traditional approach, Tom’s nose rubbing from side to side on your clit as he fucks into your hole, and it’s really good after you figure out how to distribute your weight and how to control your hips and your legs to avoid suffocating him. And once you get the hang of it, Tom and his miracle mouth get you really close to an orgasm, head spinning from it.

It’s when you try to grab his hair to press him against your core that things get a little complicated. Your hips lift up, your legs squeeze together around his neck, and Tom tugs on the right one to stay in position. And that’s the movement that gets you rolling to the floor again, as you crumble down onto your ass and with your legs still tight around his neck.

“What did I fucking say?” you yelp, rubbing the back of your thigh where it hurts a little from the fall.

“Sorry…” Tom sits up with his side against the window seat, rubbing his neck with a faint ‘ow’. And then he bursts out laughing.

“You…” you grunt, sitting up to rest your back against the bench. If you kick him in the process, it’s by accident but deserved.

“Okay, that fucking sucked,” he says through a few more laughs, getting up on his feet with a couple of groans as his legs refuse to stretch on the way. “C’mon, let’s regroup.”

“Are you kidding me?” you almost yelp, but accept his hand just the same.

When you get up on your feet, he says, “You asked me to blep your motherfucking pussy, y/n. It’s what I’m trying to do.”

“Ugh, no,” you scoff. “I mean, yes, I said that, but like, regular oral sex is awesome too. The bed would’ve been fine for that.”

Tom laughs at you again, smacking your butt and squeezing you there. You give him a side look, squinting eyes and pursed lips, the whole ordeal.

“C’monnn, baby,” he says with his lips puckered as if he’s about to lean into a kiss. You refuse him so, and he pecks your cheek instead. “What would be of us if it weren’t for this kind of fun stuff in the bedroom? It keeps things interesting.”

“Sure it does. It’s not your pretty ass on the fucking floor.”

“Hey,” he calls for you and holds you under the jaw, squeezing. “I’ve fallen plenty of times on my arse. Remember the wellies?”

You chuckle at the memory, one of so many moments where a minor slip-up could have ended up in a really big problem. You’ll never forget that day. Inevitably, with the amount of fluids the both of you produce during sex, things down there started slapping way too loud and he had the brilliant idea to say, “Maybe I should have brought my wellies.” Enough said, you laughed at his comment and shoved him to the side until you were on top, but he was just as cheeky and rolled you both over again until you were on your back, except his leg slipped off the mattress and he hit the floor and almost dislocated his shoulder. If you remember correctly, he was in pain for a couple of days after that.

“Yes, I remember the wellies,” you say with an eye-roll.

“Hell, one time you whacked me across the face with my belt.”

“Because you wanted me to use it like a whip!” you say, laughing into your hand at the memory. Tom doesn’t think it’s that funny. “All right, fine,” you add, refocusing on his pouty lips and kissing them back to normal. “But I’m getting on that bed right now.”

“Be my guest…”

As you do, standing by the foot of the bed with your hands on the mattress, ready to climb on it, Tom’s face suddenly appears between your legs.

“Hi.”

He’s sitting on the floor, though you have no idea how he got there so fast, with his back to the bed and his face to your middle.

“Nuh huh, I’m getting on this bed,” you warn him, ignoring his puppy dog eyes and his delightful grin.

“I don’t think you are, darlin’,” he threatens, leaving little kisses on your sex with each word.

You roll your eyes in response, but that’s all you can really do. After calling you ‘darling,’ Tom covers your hot nub with his mouth and starts to suck hard. Your head tilts forward between your shoulders from the immediate pleasure.

He holds your hips with both arms around your thighs and with his eyes on yours, he teases, “Tell me you don’t want me right here, my whole face shoved up your cunt. C’mon, say it…”

“Fuck you,” it’s what you say, bringing a hand to the back of his head and darting your hips forward until his awaiting mouth wraps around your whole pussy all at once.

His eyes are on you when he kisses your mound, sparkling while his hand caresses your inner thigh. You’re wet and his lips are hot, creating an incredible sense of fire straight to your nipples. They're really fucking hard and poke out of your top so much, you have to use a hand to soothe them. In the end, you stay there cradling your breast as the tip of his tongue teases between your folds, collecting beads of pre-cum where it’s been pooling up since this morning.

“Best bloody taste in the whole damn world,” he mutters before his teeth tug softly on your nether lips.

You’re about to say he’s too cheeky, but he dives tongue-first into your pussy. Nose brushing your clit in every direction it goes, sucking on the skin first, then scissoring it open with the help of two fingers to expose you to his hot breath. He looks at it for a second and sucks the little nub into his mouth, lightly using his teeth around it too. You hiss but moan at the same time, the mix of pain and pleasure absolutely divine, feeling your fluids trickle down to Tom’s chin.

Pulling away for a moany breath, Tom licks you a few more times, thumb grazing your clit alongside his nose. You’re throbbing down there, the idea of the bed forgotten by now, hips tipped downward to seek all the friction you can find. Tom splays his hands on your thighs, squeezing the flesh, to keep you in place as he drops kiss by kiss across your folds, up your mound, down to your legs, one at a time.

Without warning, his hand finds your hole and you push down onto it. Riding his fingers while he watches your face, but your eyes close at the sudden press against your spot.

“Fuck, Tom,” you whine, rolling your hips around and downward and in every direction that plunges his fingers further into you.

“You getting close, huh, pretty thing?” he chimes in a teasing tone, the smirk obvious against your so sensitive skin.

You grab his head and push him closer, knocking your clit against his nose by accident, but with a swift tilt of his head, he’s got two fingers stroking your spot and his lips around your swollen nub. Sucking and applying pressure, drawing pants from your chest, shivers up your spine, fluids out through every pore.

“Fuck,” he says at some point, pulling away. His breath scorching on your skin. “You’re dripping all over my shirt, baby.”

“Tom, I’m gonna come,” you warn him, fisting at the curve of his head. Your legs keep him hostage as his mouth suckles your clit and your folds and everywhere. His fingers deep in your cunt, in and out at a restless pace.

“Fuck, fuck,” you whine and almost shout, pushing your legs together. His hair is soft and tantalizing on your skin, searing everywhere like kindle. Your nails carved into his scalp. His fingers at the right spot, massaging it inside so fast you’re a bomb about to explode. Your clit is stuck between his lips as he sucks and licks and pulls until all you see is a bright light behind your eyes.

Your legs give out and you totally knock into his teeth, but Tom never stops. He sucks your orgasm out of you, fingering you to help ride it out. When your thighs stop shaking, you let go of his head because you’re about to collapse, pushing both hands on the mattress and looking down through hooded lids.

Watching as he licks your clit a couple of times, toying it with the very tip of his tongue. Teasing it downward to your hole. Circling around it, around his fingers, collecting drops of fluid where he finds them. He hums into your pussy, vibrations reverberating everywhere, all the way to your toes and traveling straight to your brain until your vision is restored.

When you can see again, you can’t stop the gasps and little moans that fall from your throat. Tom remains sitting between your legs, watching as you’re surely still clenching around him and dripping profusely.

One last peck to your clit, his eyes find yours and you can tell he’s smirking. From the glint in them, and from the shape of his jaw against your cunt. You know it so well by now, you can tell when he opens and closes his mouth around your folds, pulling on them between his lips to tease because that’s what he does best.

Then he dips his fingers inside and pulls out, over and over again, making you tremble with oversensitivity. Yet you seek nothing but his touch, hands curled around the bedding, feet adjusting on the ground because the soles are sweating so much.

“Tom,” you pant, knees almost buckling.

“I got you,” he says, his eyes on you just to test your reaction, you know this much, but there isn't much you can do. Not after such a fucking great orgasm.

You love coming on his mouth. He’s skilled and attentive, pressing in all the spots where you inadvertently lead him to. Applying pressure and letting go in perfect timing, keeping you at bay or stimulated just right. Fuck, he’s so goddamn good. Your legs are still trembling with it when he places a final kiss and emerges from where he’s sitting.

Tom pushes up between your body and the bed, and you move away so he will fit. Hands tight on his shoulders so you won’t collapse. Covering his mouth with yours when he’s close enough. Your arousal tastes delicious mixed with the spearmint that’s all him, spread all over the softness of his lips and on the tip of his tongue that you claim into your mouth.

It’s when you press closer to him that you notice how hard he is in his jeans. They’re unbuttoned like he needed to relieve the pressure at one point. His cock fills the v of his crotch completely, reacting with a twitch when you nudge a fingertip on the head.

“Want me to help you with this, baby?” you mumble into his mouth where he collects yours into a short kiss.

He nods into it, as expected, so you grab the hem of his briefs with both hands and tug them down until his cock springs out for attention. It’s leaking, red at the tip, and very, very stiff, twitching harder when you grasp a hand around the shaft. Tom moans as you start to pump immediately, feeling the flow of his blood in your palm. He probably won’t last long, so you waste no time. You sit him on the bed and lean over him, your breasts peeking out of your top at the level of his eyes, with your hand jacking him off at a fast speed.

It takes only a few pumps before he’s begging you to stop.

“Wait, wait, get the camera,” he says within a moan. You obey without a question. Grabbing the camera from where it’s propped on the windowsill next to your laptop, and disconnecting it from the cable. It’s turned on and ready to fire by the time you get to the bed.

“Where do you want me?”

“Oh, uhhhh…” he trails off, thinking about it, one hand squeezing his cock so it won’t end the party before it’s truly over. “Oh, I know. Sit on the edge of the bed and lie back?”

“Mhmm. I see where this is going,” you say, practically foaming at the mouth at the thought of him releasing his explosion of cum all over and around you.

Following his instructions, you sit on the edge of the mattress and lie back, the camera propped just under your breasts and pointed at his middle. He’s standing in front of you, between your spread legs, and you need only a minimal adjustment of the lens until it’s perfectly centered on his leaking, neglected dick.

“Photos or video?”

“Video,” he says, grabbing a hold of himself and starting to pump. “We can, fuck— we can screenshot it later. Fuck, ‘m not gonna last at all.”

His fist jacks his cock expertly, twisting and pumping and thumbing at the head in regular intervals, and his hips keep jabbing forward as his moans start to garble in his throat. You send him little incentives to help him release, but it takes less than a minute before he’s all curled in on himself. Gasping and making these small noises like he can’t hold them back. His hand grasps your thigh and props it up, with your foot on the mattress. You reach out for his hand there, squeezing it under yours, and watch him surrender, so giving and pretty.

At the raise in tension in the air, you sit up and hold your weight on your elbows, watching him closely.

“Tell me,” you say, licking your lips at the beautiful sight of Tom thrusting his cock into his hand rather than the opposite. “Tell me when you’re there, okay? Wanna record this from a different angle.”

Right now, you have the camera pointed at his face, zoomed out enough that you can see the shift of his muscles under the tight shirt and the clench of his jaw from his wide open mouth.

“Please— fuck—” he moans and curses all around you, leaning his head forward until he meets your forehead. You’re both sweaty from the effort, but you let him be and angle the camera downward so you have a full view of his cock where it’s pressed just under your clit. His dick is swollen and just on the verge of busting out. You focus on the little screen to make sure it’s centered on the right spot.

It is, so you glance back at him and lick your lips at the sight of his tongue peeking at the corner of his mouth now, before he draws it back inside to moan really fucking loud and bend over you again. One, two, three strokes of his fist and he spritzes all over you, jerking back and forward on his little legs, his upper body shaking. His hand never stops moving on his cock as it spills mostly on your mound. Some of it gets on his clothes and your legs and his face, on your mouth a little too, a few drops hitting the lens making it blurry and wet.

As for Tom, he looks like his brain has sparked out, hips jerking forward a few more times before his body slumps and falls on the bed next to you. You smile at his satiated expression and film everything that you can. The cum between your legs, his spent dick still clutched in his fist, the up and down heave of his chest and that gorgeous fucking smile on his face when the camera catches his eye.

“You got everything?”

You nod. “Mhmm, you’re gonna love this one.”

Tom lies there on the bed with his arms spread open, clothes still on except around his crotch, a hand caressing your naked bum where it’s dipping down the mattress. You don’t move otherwise, clicking the button to stop the recording and putting the camera down in the middle of the bed.

With a single glance at your middle, you can tell that Tom got most of his cum on you this time. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of damage in your surroundings today. That’s awesome. It’s what he wanted to do and despite the odds being against it from his history of exploding cum all over the freaking place, he’s managed to coat your pussy in the majority of it.

You want to take a picture of it, want to see how it really looks from his point of view, but you don’t dare grab the camera again. Instead, you place a hand on his belly and ask, “You all right?”

“Fucking brilliant.” He grins wide. His breathing has slowed down by now, cock deflating on his lap, and he tucks himself into his briefs before he sits up next to you.

He smiles and kisses your mouth and says, “Look at you, not a single drop of cum on your face. What a day.”

You laugh at him, but show him an approving smile. “I got a little on my mouth, but I licked it clean. Other than that, most of it is right… there,” you say, pointing at your crotch.

“Oh I know,” he says sprightly, getting up from the bed next. “Let me take a picture of this, I bet it’s fucking gorgeous.”

With a giggle because you’d just had the same thought, you hand him over the camera and wait for him to take a couple of pictures. He insists on taking a few of you in different poses, all of them with your legs open and his seed proudly sitting in between, but after a while you tell him to stop so you can clean up.

“Oh no no no,” he says immediately, setting the camera back on the bed without turning it off. “I’m going to take care of that.”

“Oh really?” you ask, but it’s to no avail because he’s already kneeling between your legs and holding them apart by your thighs. 

“I’m calling it, it’s Pussy Lickin’ Weekend, baby.”

You fetch the camera again, beaming at the wonderful idea he’s just had.

He grins at you when you point the lens at him, but wastes no more time to reach out and get it done. Your thumb presses record right as he starts to tease you in all the places where it tingles, even though you believe you won’t have much of a response. Nonetheless, Tom still has a broad smirk on his face as he licks you clean with his twinkling eyes on yours. You caress his hair in return and focus, breathing calmly through the bliss that is his smooth touch.

“‘ove this pussy,” he mumbles against your still hot and very wet skin. You tilt your head at him, laying back on your elbows and propping both feet on the bed so he’ll have more access. His face still centered in the image on the little screen of the camera. “It’s so pretty,” he keeps saying, with tiny licks between his words. “And juicy. Mmm, delicious. Finger-licking good.” At this word, he wiggles his eyebrows from where he’s looking at you and pretends to lick his thumb, pressing it into your hole right after.

“Stop…”

“I’m not going to, don’t worry,” he tranquilizes you. “Wish you could taste this, though.” Before you can stop him, he presses the pad of his tongue against your clit and hums into it. The sensation travels across your body and up to your head way faster than you expected it to. 

He pulls away completely after that, however. Taking the camera off your hands and turning it off, he says, “C’mon, let’s get into the shower. Then I want to check if you’d be any good at directing porn.”

You chuckle and place your hand on the one he offers to you, palm up. Your fingers enlace almost immediately with his.

~~

After a much deserved though quick shower, you run downstairs because you’re starving. For food, this time. Your sexual hunger is satisfied for now at least. That was a good one. Like, really good. Despite the accidents and the hysterical laughter, Tom makes a pretty amazing lover and you can’t believe how lucky you were to have fallen for him. It took a while, and it was really freaking complicated, but things worked out for the best. Six months into a proper relationship —because unlike Tom, you do not count the time you spent fooling around with him and fooling yourself— and no sign of regret just yet.

The rest of the boys don’t seem to be home when you get your salad from the fridge, chilling outside on the porch under the warm London sun. With sunglasses on, feet propped up on the sunbed too, you dive into the colorful bowl in your hands.

It’s empty as is the bottle of water on the floor by the time Tom comes find you out here. He’s now in a pair of comfortable shorts and a loose t-shirt, making you feel underdressed in short shorts and a tank top.

“Oh, hey, there you are, look at this,” he says all excited, crouching by the sunbed and practically shoving the camera in your face. You slide your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose and look at the screen. He’s showing you a portion of the video you recorded earlier in the bedroom, a clear up-close shot of his dick covering your skin with white liquid of bliss. “Look how beautiful it is.”

“Uh, no?” you say with a giggle, putting the sunglasses back on your face. “I would make a darn good porn director, I guess, but that’s all.”

“What? C’mon…” he trails off, and from the sound of it, he’s replaying the same section of the video. Perhaps he cut it somehow— no, that can’t be it. He’s not that tech savvy with this new camera yet, you think. “I mean, I’m going to delete it, but fuck me I could watch this every day, I swear. Look at the curve of your—”

“You don’t have to delete it,” you tell him in a calm tone. He looks at you surprised, but you don’t get why. After all, you were the one who wanted to start filming yourselves in bed. Close-ups like this are a little strange because you can see everything good but also every flaw, but technically they are better because there’s no risk of identifying either of you.

“Right,” he chuckles, looking down at the screen and rewatching it again. “If only. You know if I keep this, someone else will see it. It’s my curse. Me and tech, yeah, we no match.”

“I guess, but still. I could save it for you.” You smile genuinely. His whole face lights up at the thought. “For a rainy day.”

“For a rainy day.” He hums as though he’s considering it.

“Yeah. Like,” you sniffle dryly. “I don’t think I ever told this, but I have my own rainy day folder. Personal, private, encrypted, everything you could ask for, so.”

“Really?” he chuckles. “Pics of me?”

“No. Michael B. Jordan and your mate Chris Evans, of course.”

“Right.” He chuckles. “Of course.” When you roll your eyes in response, his grin lights up his face. He’s too damn smug for his own good sometimes. “Anyway. I could actually keep this?”

“Absolutely. As long as that disk never leaves the house,” Tom ‘mhmm’s as he listens to your instructions, “and you don’t accidentally use it for something else, we’re fine.”

“That’s brilliant!” He grins so fucking wide, the sun reflects indirectly on his teeth. You laugh at his childish enthusiasm, leaning backwards when he presses a kiss onto your mouth until you’re lying down on the sunbed. “Thank you, thank you, thankyou…” he says on repeat.

“You’re welcome. Now get off me before you get any ideas.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Oh boy. You’re screwed. “Ideas have already been had. Did you see the note on the fridge?”

“Mhmm…”

The fridge in the kitchen includes a white board with a couple of markers of different colors and tons of magnetic emojis that every occupant of the house uses for notes and reminders and other shenanigans. It’s easily spotted because it’s big and colorful, and it’s right there when you enter the kitchen. So it was very hard to miss when you came downstairs earlier. The note was signed HH and included a row of disgusted-looking emojis and a very clear message in capital letters.

😒🤬🤢🤮😷

BE DECENT BY 7 YOU PIGS!!! we’ll bring dinner

“Do you think they saw us?”

“On the window?” You nod in response to his question. “Nah, I mean, why would they? They knew we were up there, they heard what I said before we went upstairs. They would have to be very dumb to even dare to look at the upper floor windows.”

You giggle, of course. He makes a very solid point. “I suppose you’re right. Can I interest you in some food, putting on some music and enjoying the rare London sun while we’re out here?”

It takes a while before Tom and you agree on the details, but eventually you both lie down in a couple of the sunbeds on the back porch, one of your phones blasting soft music into the air as he holds a new script he has to analyze for work and you, a book. You thought you could get the laptop down here and do a little research for your channel, but screw it. You have enough material for your next three weeks of posts, so you can lay back and chill. In the actual sense of the word. Not the ‘other’ kind. All in all, it’s a peaceful afternoon.

At least until Tom huffs out loud and throws the script onto the floor, saying, “Uff. This is rubbish. Wanna fuck?”

You give him a look over the rim of your sunglasses. “You’re freaking nuts.”

“Why not?!” he whines, sitting on the edge of the sunbed, turned to you. He uses big gestures for no reason as he adds, “Listen, I’m here. You’re there—looking positively fuckable in those shorts by the way—”

“You say that about pretty much every piece of clothing I wear—”

“Because I’m a good boyfriend!” he argues. You don’t disagree with the logic, but you do a bit with the method and the reasoning, so you roll your eyes and continue pretending you’re reading your book and not listening to whatever he’s going to say next. “The boys are gone and we don’t know when they’ll be back—”

“They said seven.”

“So that gives us… an hour to do this. I always wanted to try this…”

When you glance at him, he’s looking out into the green ahead of you. “Nuh huh, not the garden.”

“But it’s perfect! And,” he pauses, clearing his throat, waiting until you drop your book open on your lap with both hands holding each side of it to continue. “Who knows when all of them will be gone again, not to mention that I’m leaving again. Next week. For another three weeks, baby.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell its only purpose is to add a dramatic tone to when he says, “Three. Weeks. Without me again. Oh, and of course— how could I fucking forget— it’s Pussy Lickin’ Weekend, baby. So let me lick your bloody gorgeous pussy, will ya?”

“All right, fine. You, um, you make a fine point there. About you leaving. This last month was un-bear-able,” you say with a huff. You sit up as well, a finger marking the page you were reading. “Okay. I’m in.” His grin grows impossibly wider. “What were you thinking? That big rock by the shed…?”

You take a look at the garden and that rock has always puzzled you. It sort of looks like a seat of some kind, but you figure it was accidental more than anything because of the way it was put up out there on the grass. Tom confirms it was a happy coincidence.

“As soon as I saw it though, mmmm,” he hums with his lip between his teeth. “As soon as I saw it, I knew I’d have to spread you open on it one day. Might as well be today.”

“Might as well be right now,” you agree with a sly smirk. Tom gets up immediately, making you struggle for the book so you can use your marker to know where you stopped later. He’s too antsy, though, and too handsy, nothing to complain about, but he does end up tickling you and you threaten him, “Oy! You tickle, the clothes stay on.”

He grins at you and says, “I can work with that.”

When he tries to grab your butt or your shorts or something in that area, you flinch to the side and escape his touch, saying, “I’ll get one of the big towels from the bathroom. You go over there and get in position.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It takes you a while to find a decent towel to drape over the rock. All the towels are pretty new which would be a waste, but you’re ninety percent sure that there are still quite a few that you brought from the flat. You find them right at the back of the cupboard, fetching one with a strong pull of your arm.

As you return outside, Tom seems to be waiting out there in the garden. Shirtless, now, the top button of his shorts undone.

“You started without me, I can tell.”

“Not really,” he shrugs, grabbing one of your hands and pulling you into him. “Just don’t want to have to think about it while we’re, y’know. Getting frisky, and things get a little tight down there.”

You kiss his pliant mouth and melt into his arms, either from the warm sun or simply from the hot touch of his palms under your top. The sizzle on your skin, burning your nipples when he cradles both of your breasts, kneading them for a little while as his tongue descends deep into your mouth.

You’re now both standing by the big rock he was talking about. He has mentioned it before, this was a debate you’ve already had out of curiosity during a to fuck or not to fuck sort of game as you discussed which parts of the house would be off limits. You just never thought you’d end up here, mostly because there’s always someone else in the house. Must be his lucky day, then. No one’s home and you’re both in the mood to fuck.

This is going to be quite ridiculous again and a totally impossible position because the rock isn’t leveled. It does look like a chair when you look in a certain angle, but from up close the ‘seat’ is all tilted and you fear you might just topple over if you sit over there and your reflexes are too busy with sex to follow through and keep you up. You just know someone’s back is going to get fucked in a bad way if you have sex on it, probably yours because riding Tom on this block of stone would be a hazard; you’d have to lean forward way too much and that would make it impossible to move over his lap. Although if you suggest it to him, you’re positive he’ll be more than glad to try. He’s the one who always says that laughter is sexy. You agree, it is, especially his —his eyes get all crinkly and you swear you fall in love with him a bit more every time you notice them—, but you don’t mind the uneventful, quiet sex you sometimes have up there in your room.

Nevertheless, Tom looks so giddy about this as he peels off your shorts and your knickers with hands that are shaking in his excitement. The music is still playing in the background, and he’s swaying his hips to the beat, humming the lyrics to himself, his tongue peeking at the corner again. It’s adorable and sexy and he’s beautiful all over, still glowing from this morning’s shenanigans and from the hours in the sun. His skin all soft and smelling good, his muscles on display on his torso, so yeah, of course you wouldn’t say no to this. He’s still very much irresistible. The months of your relationship and the quirks and habits you both picked up since turning official haven’t changed a single thing.

He starts by crouching in front of you to kiss your thighs, one then the other, then the inside of them, slowly making his way up in between them. You’re not in the right mood yet, but all it takes is a few tweaks of his fingers, a couple of licks, and your brain swoons, your gut churns, your legs squeeze at the way he caresses every inch of you like you were made to be blessed by his touch and nobody else’s.

Soon after he crawls back up to your chest, sucks on a nipple through your top, tugging at the fabric until your whole breast pops out. The way he licks the hardening bud is impressive, forcing you to close your eyes and cradle the back of his head, nuzzling his face into your warm skin until he starts sucking and you get a little wet from the obscene laps of his tongue. Tom gives it a tentative bite, not hurting at all, more like grazing his teeth around the areola.

“So hot,” you tell him with a hiss, sucking on your bottom lip. Tom’s mouth pops out with a smack and he gazes up with his warm little eyes glistening from the daylight and his overall glee.

“Can I remove this too?” he asks politely, tugging on the fabric. For a second, you consider it and slowly pluck your other breast out of your top. It stays there all rolled up under your chest, but it feels too exposing. Too vulnerable. Especially because he won’t be removing any more clothes. 

His gaze is transfixed by the sight of your boobs as he cradles them both, leaning a bit to lick at the nipples, one then the other, repeatedly until you moan. Your back arches into his soft touch. However there’s a shout from someone else’s garden, and the idea of being fully naked is suddenly terrifying, so you cover up again.

Tom nods in understanding. He then drapes kiss after kiss on his way to your mouth, raising goosebumps in his wake. Before he kisses you, even though your head tilts forward seeking his lips, he plucks the towel from your hands and sets it over the rock, then sits you on it and kneels in front of you, holding your knees together for now. He asks, “Mouth only or with fingers?”

You hum into his soft ways and say, “Mmm, mouth only.”

He widens his eyes at you. “Surprised you don’t want my fingers.”

“Maybe the next weekend you stay home we can host yet another fingering marathon,” you suggest, spreading your legs open so he’ll fit in between. He slides closer immediately, tongue prying your mouth open as his hands lift your thighs up to rest them on his shoulders.

“You good?” he asks with his eyes on you, then flicking them downward to your center.

“Will you just eat it already?”

Tom doesn’t answer anymore. He gives you kitten licks on your thighs, fingers dribbling in the same spots right after where your skin is all tingly and sensitive after his touch. Holding your thighs against the sides of his head, he kisses your navel, your lower belly, your mound and that spot right over your clit, leaving you shivering from the closeness. His hands never leave your legs as he kisses and dabs and sucks on your lips and clit and everywhere around, not only getting you wet, but making you moan his name in the middle of the garden like this.

It’s like your body switches on whenever he touches you, that’s not unusual, but it’s strange when there isn’t the comfort of walls or a bed or the fact that you should be able to see his face, but you can’t. You can’t because your legs are in the way, and your hands are the only thing holding you upright on this motherfucking rock that did not seem this rounded and slippery every time you studied it and considered this very moment from the porch.

“Fuck, more tongue,” you ask of Tom, and he seems to nod and give it to you. Only the tip at first, but soon he laps at your slit and presses the whole pad of his tongue into you and something clicks in your brain.

All the muscles in your thighs are tight, sweaty where his shoulders are pressed on the underside to keep you in place. His head swings back and forth, from side to side, in every fucking direction, darting shots of pleasure with it. When you look down to try and see something, you get a glimpse of Tom’s lips wrapping around your clit, and when the suction starts getting stronger and stronger, you take a deep breath and hold it in, your head tilted all the way back, neck dampening with sweat.

There’s a nip of his teeth right on your clit, and another on your swollen lips, Tom smoothing the two spots with a wet lick from the top down, thrusting into your hole next. You feel it everywhere, from the crook of your knees to your brain that’s swimming around in bliss, and you choke on your own spit as he fucks in and out of you with deliberate jabs of his tongue. Your pussy clenches around him, and your hands squeeze around the towel, nails nearly breaking on the hard rock beneath you, and you totally swear at him and curse him for being so damn fucking good. “Oh, fuck, yes, that, there, more, fuck fuck fuck.”

Your hips buck up against your will and you can tell your butt slides down at least a few inches, but Tom catches you with his strong hands and his massive shoulders, and he holds up your weight like a fucking champion as you shake and lose track of time and location, only thinking of the sparks of pleasure shooting off of your cunt and setting your body alight like a lightning storm.

It pulses through you, the further Tom sticks his tongue inside you the stronger it gets, and then his hands— fuck, his nails dig into the flesh of your thighs and he presses his whole face against your core, slurping up your wetness and sucking on your lips and wherever else he can reach, you can’t even name all the body parts you have down there. Your stomach coils around the feeling, legs starting to shake in his grasp, and your high rolls through your entire fucking body in these waves that are completely different from when you come from his fingers.

“Please don’t fucking stop, that’s so gooood,” you whine and moan and cry, trying your best not to fall off the rock when you move a hand to yank his hair and pull his face further against where he’s rubbing it on you and slathering it with all your cum.

Tom pushes up with his shoulders and dives right back in, using more of his nose than his tongue, but it’s still so intense and good and you want this feeling to last forever. Your hand slips and you can’t move the other fast enough from his head, but thankfully you only end up lying back on the hard surface. Your back all curled backwards in an impossible angle, your legs the only muscles keeping you upright as the blood rushes to your head where it’s hanging off the side of the rock.

You think this is it, you’re about to drop to the floor yet again, but Tom seems to catch you just in time. He gasps away from your core and expertly twists you where you’re laying, so you end up on your front on the rock. There’s just enough room beneath your legs that you can press the knees on the floor and shove your hips back.

Except where you hope to meet Tom’s face, there’s a big nothing.

“Don’t stop now,” you demand or beg or plead. All you know is that your brain is burning for a second round, knees weak from the thought.

“Fuck, sorry,” he says, letting you fist at his hair and press his face against your buttcheek. Then he says, “Was checking— fuck, it’s so close to seven.”

“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” you cry around the empty void of discontempt growing in your belly.

Immediately, he buries his face between your cheeks, kneading them tight in his hands, his tongue lapping quickly at the clenched hole. He sucks your skin and down to your clit, the wet noises mixed with your desperate moans and his eager throaty tips of encouragement. Nose nudging at your entrance and making it so unexpectedly good, Tom rubs himself all over your cunt, and you push back and forth riding his face and his tongue. And in less than a minute, you’re shouting and shuddering and coming all over again.

“That’s it, gimme it, baby,” he moans against your sex, biting into your ass before he dives back in and collects every single drop of fluid that drips out of you.

It takes a while to recover from that. A double orgasm with so little time in between is rare, so it’s not a surprise that when Tom helps you get back on your feet, your legs are totally wobbly and he’s got a motherfucking smug grin on his face.

“Came twice, uh?” he goads before he kisses you and shoves the taste of your cunt into your mouth.

“Best weekend ever.”

Tom laughs into the next kiss, gobbling up all of your mouth with a moan as you slip a hand into his briefs. You grasp his cock and he leans into you, his jaw all shiny from your fluids. He’s blocking you from crouching in front of him and takes a look down at his watch instead.

You see it, too. Less than five minutes to seven.

“Fuck,” he curses, ramming his cock into your fist, but hissing and pulling away next. “We can’t fucking do this here.”

“If not here, then when,” you rush to say. A glance over your shoulder shows you that the boys don’t seem to be back at the house yet.

“Tonight, I don’t know, but not now,” he says, grabbing your wrist. He moves it away and tucks himself into his clothes before he picks up your shorts from the floor. You’re already fetching your knickers and putting them on.

“Okay, okay, I got it, but I’m licking you later, then.” You grin, both hands in the air. “No hands.”

Tom chuckles but nods, looking around to check what’s left to do. You have to move fast before you get caught out here in a hot state of undress. Still you grin at Tom as he fetches the towel and balls it up under his arm, grabbing your hand and walking you into the house as naturally as possible.

As you step into the kitchen, Harry comes into the room with a bag in his hands, which he drops on the dining table with an excessively loud noise. “We heard that, too.”

Behind him, Harrison shouts, “We said seven.”

Of course you have to punch Tom’s shoulder when he laughs.

~~

After the comfort of a homely dinner with friends that refuse to look you in the eye, you sit on the couch with the first batch of beers of the night for a short cinema session. Harrison picked the film, a comedy you believe. You sit there holding a bottle and looking at your feet, thinking back to today’s wet adventure. Legs and brain liquified from Tom’s hot words and erotic actions and from that sinfully skillful tongue of his. Speaking of, he sits next to you and grabs a beer for himself, splaying his arm over the back of the couch in that way he has of wrapping it around you without really touching you. You cozy up to him and smile at his domesticity. It is just as infatuating as anything else he does.

Except Harrison kicks his ankle lightly and tells him to move to the end of the couch. Tom rolls his eyes particularly hard when his brother Harry stands in front of you as well.

“You spent the whole day together, fuck knows what—” Harry gulps down his words as though he’s disgusted. “Anyway. We go in the middle, ‘kay?”

“So dramatic…” Tom trails off.

“I’m okay with that,” you say brightly, squeezing your hip against your end of the couch. Tom sends you a peeved look at your answer, but Harrison sits next to you and his annoyance fades from sight.

Sam and Tuwaine join in a little later, having come home in the middle of dinner. They stare at Harrison and you, Sam points at Tom inquisitively but they don’t ask questions. They only laugh at what they’re seeing. You reckon they’ve heard the lewd and totally incorrect version of the facts from the Harries or perhaps only a repulsed Harrison —who by the way, grabbed the green disgusted emoji from the fridge door and pretended to glue it to your forehead, doing the same to Tom with the vomiting emoji. It was a whole skit after dinner, making you laugh and ‘pin’ the huffing emoji to his tank top.

The movie you’re watching happens to have a non-explicit sex scene. You were familiar with this title, so you knew it was coming eventually, and try to sneak a glance at Tom who’s literally on the other end of the couch. His arm is splayed over the back of the couch even though you’re not there, the other one holding a beer that he sips every now and then. Looking over the back of the Harries’ heads, you stretch your own arm and grab his hand, trickling your fingers over the back. Tom catches your eye next and grins around the bottle he’s drinking from, wiggling his eyebrows when you gesture with your head towards the screen where the characters are prepping their own funny perversion on an office desk.

Out of nowhere, the characters’ voices become all distorted and when you check what’s happening, Harry has the remote in his hand and is fast forwarding the scene. “We get enough of this, thanks very much.”

Tom spits his beer all over his shirt and starts cackling at his brother. You’re amused by Harry’s exaggerated act as well, but you make sure to kick Tom’s shin when you pass by him to grab another round from the kitchen. He swats at your ass in return.

~~

After the movie, the boys want to hang out on the back porch. It’s a lovely spring night, not too cold, not too warm, so you bring them a couple of beers each and excuse yourself to the bathroom. The plan is to distract them. There’s a little something you have to do before you join them. You set it in motion as soon as you close the bathroom door, pulling out your phone to text Tom.

You: Downstairs bathroom, tell them you’re making snacks 🍆>😮

You expect him to take a couple of minutes, so you shove your top down to the middle of your belly and lean against the counter, waiting for his knock. There isn’t one. Tom bursts in through the door with his hands unzipping his shorts in a rush.

At the sight of you opening your mouth to speak, he says, “Shut up.”

Obedient, you reel him closer by his t-shirt and immediately sneak a hand into his clothes, grabbing a hold of his cock and rubbing it to make it hard. His mouth clashes onto yours in a frantic kiss, his hips helping the motions and his dick growing larger and thicker with every stroke. He sucks on your tits for a little while, lathering them up in spit, warm from his moans.

The next moments are quick as fuck. Your brain barely registers them, but you are in control. You yank Tom away from your chest by the hair, keeping him at bay with both arms when he tries to kiss you again, then shove him around until his back bangs against the counter with a muffled sound.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he moans when you drop to your knees. You think he says something right after, but it’s all a strangled moan because you swallow his cock in full right away.

You drag him forward into your throat, quick and messy and hopefully everything he was thinking about earlier in the garden. Bobbing your head over the length, applying suction on every move, you squeeze and swirl a hand around the base and massage his sack with the other.

“No hands—” he reminds you, completely breathless. That had been the deal, so you put both arms on your back, one hand clasped around the other wrist.

Above you, Tom keeps making delicious, garbled moans, way too fucking loud, and when you look up, he’s bracing himself on the crown of your head, his mouth open and wet, just watching as you suck his cock. It takes him less than two minutes of that before he starts cursing filthy fucking words, totally coherent out of nowhere.

“Sweet little mouth, take my fucking cock, swallow, fuck, fuck, that’s fucking right,” and many, many more words that burn in your ears and leave you wet on the bathroom floor.

After that, hips rutting against your face to meet you halfway because you never stop bobbing your head, licking it and swallowing it and unable to take it but taking it all just the same. With his hand fisted around your hair and his cock swelling larger, your lips panging from the stretch. Choking you when the tip hits the back of your throat. It’s too much but it’s just right, and as soon as he sucks in a breath over you, you slap your hands on your thighs and stretch your mouth open as far as it fucking goes.

“Filthy kitten desperate to eat my cum, holy, holy, fucking fuck, I’m gonna come,” Tom says in a rush, the words all mumbled together. His hips jab forward and back, and your head follows the move until he’s nestled completely in your mouth. When you suck and swallow, the taste of hot spunk fills your mouth and he comes, jerking all over the place.

You use little bobs of your head to devour every single drop. He tastes like heaven right now, and it’s all from the knowledge that it was you doing this to him. You look up and moan at the sight, his eyes closed, sweaty lashes fanned out over his cheeks, his mouth crooked and wet from spit where he’s biting into his lip. You love that look on his face, love putting that look on his face. He looks fucking beautiful and blissed out.

“I am so paying you back for that.”

~~

“Do you think we have too much sex?”

Your question makes Tom turn to you very, very slowly, a hand holding his toothbrush where it’s hanging off his mouth.

You’re both in your shared ensuite bathroom, getting ready for bed. Tom is wearing his joggers, you in shorts and a spaghetti strap top you’ve been using to sleep during the warmer nights. He doesn’t say anything yet, but after you inspect his frowning gaze in the mirror and he spits into the sink, he shrugs and says, “I know my brothers do.” Next he goes back to brushing his teeth, like he hadn’t just said that.

A stupid answer to a stupid question, you think. You laugh nonetheless. He makes a fair point.

“We don’t, right?” you insist, going back to your night routine.

“I don’t think so, I mean,” he wipes his face with a towel and stands there, all ready for bed. “I’m not home for about half the year, so it makes sense that when I am… y’know.”

“Yeah.”

That’s what you thought as well, but you have been wondering about the other side of the picture. You do have roommates, and you’re all going to have partners at some point, so it would make sense to dial it down a little and keep things private. The reputation of the house is bad enough from how many occupants it has. Five dudes and you, that would raise some relevant questions.

“No, you’re right. I was just, um, y’know, just asking.”

“Don’t listen to Harry, it’s not like we haven’t seen his bum… or worse in my case, am I right?” Tom points out with a smack of his lips.

Again, he makes a fair point.

On your way out of the bathroom in silence, Tom walks ahead and opens the bedding for you, as per usual. Even in bed he’s a gentleman, that’s so freaking unnerving. He’s too good. Why wouldn’t you have sex so regularly with him? Ugh.

“Did you have a good Pussy Lickin’ Weekend, baby?” you ask him, honestly curious. You don’t want to start anything, hopefully the fact that you’re lying in bed and pulling the covers over you will tell him just so.

“It’s only Saturday night, darlin’,” he replies with a giggle, wiggling his eyebrows. He’s only just draping his first leg under the bedding, but he immediately crawls to the middle of the bed, making grabby hands at you.

“Oh but you’re done,” you tell him rather firmly.

He laughs and tugs you into his embrace, spreading silly little kisses all over your face. When he rolls onto his back, pulling you over him, he smiles his flirtatious smile and says, “That’s what you think.”

“God…” you almost whine, rolling your eyes half in exasperation at his neverending libido, half in delight at his suggestion. A boyfriend who never gets tired of sexing you up, that’s a first.

“It’s Tom, actually.”

You caress his cheek and down to his shoulder, tracing the top and his clavicle with a finger right after. When you look back up, he’s got his tongue peeking at the corner of his mouth.

“Blep,” you say, sticking your tongue out at him, very briefly, like a cat would. Like his kitten would. Curious like one, you ask, “Not thinking about golf, are you?”

“Not at all…”

His reaction is endearing as fuck. He’s still got that stupid beautiful smile teasing at his lips, then he licks them slowly before he licks yours, craning his neck further to collect your mouth into a proper kiss. You chuckle and hum and melt into it by instinct, slithering your tongue inside to harvest the very obvious taste of spearmint from the back of his teeth.

“Okay,” you say when you pull back, chest panting a little from the kiss. Tom’s face is swarming with desire and a cheeky silent proposal. You tilt your head at him and ignore the tongue that keeps teasing you from the corner of his mouth, then say, “I think we’re done for the night, champ.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he protests with a grunt, spreading his legs. You fall in the middle, and between the position and his tight grasp around your waist, it wouldn’t be easy to roll away from this spot. Not that you want to, it’s cozy and comfortable, his body welcoming and warm in a domestic way.

“Don’t listen to those guys, they love it.”

“They what?” You frown.

“They love it… for me, that’s what I meant,” he says with a little laugh.

“Mhmm, sure.”

Tom’s face is lit up in his bliss, either from his usual perkiness, or from the many orgasms he’s managed to literally suck out of you today. And the one you sucked out of him. He pecks and growls into your neck, rolling you over until you lie on your back, on your side of the bed. You spread your legs for him now, letting him rest there. Just him, no second intentions. Except he asks, “Ready for your night class with your expert cunnilinguist?”

“My what?” you giggle. You understand what he’s saying, familiar with the expression he’s trying to invoke here, but he modified it in a way you’d never heard before. “Where’d you learn that word?”

“I dunno,” he says, muffled by your neck where he’s licking you. “Somewhere.” He drops another lick, now much closer to your shoulder, dragging the tip of his tongue down the side of the strap resting on your skin. “Does it matter?”

When he starts kissing further down and tugging on the fabric to expose your breast, you rest a hand on the nape of his neck. You want to tell him to stop, but his mouth is so hot when he wraps it around your nipple, and his tongue is so wet when he licks the little nub up and down, several times in a row, hardening it even though your mind is empty of naughty thoughts. So you embrace it for a little while, popping out your other breast and guiding his face to it so he’ll tend to both sides of your chest.

Yet the second his fingers dribble over the hem of your sleeping shorts, you force your eyes open and pat the top of his head.

“Tom, I meant it,” you hum, back arching up after he stops licking your chest. “Fuck. Sorry, but, um, I really think we’re done for the night.”

The truth is that you’re a little sore. You know he’ll understand, so you’d rather stop him early before he thinks you’re trapping him into sex and then pulling back at the last minute. Understanding, Tom sits up on his knees between your legs and pulls on the hem of your shorts, slapping them back against your hips.

“But the weekend isn’t over yet,” he pouts, puppy dog eyes and everything. “And it’s Pussy Lickin’ Weekend, baby, it’s a big deal,” he reminds you with a smirk. It’s the same expression he’s been saying to you all day, but in a completely different tone. He’s all pitiful and supplicant now, but when you shove his face away with your palm over it, he laughs.

“Mhmm, but sadly this pussy hurts, so no licking for you, champ.”

“Well, you know what?” He grins. His hands rest on the outer sides of your hips now, thumb rubbing the skin between the two pieces of clothing you’re wearing. In return, you caress his bicep a couple of times, moving your hand down to grasp his. He uses that to tug on your arm hard enough that you slide off the mattress with a laugh, eventually following his silent instruction and sitting up to stay at the level of his face.

“I think I could kiss it all better, kitten,” he purrs, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. “Call me Dr. Holland, if you will.”

“Dr. Holland, expert in—”

“Cunnilinguist,” he finishes the sentence for you. You giggle at his cheeky expression. “It’s cunnilinguist, darlin’.”

“Anyway, doctor,” you say with a shake of your head. “My back hurts too. From that rock in the garden you so badly wanted to fuck me on, remember?” He nods, the most pleased and proud expression on his face. You kiss it away, just so you won’t have to look at it anymore. “And I don’t think you can heal that with a tongue, so…”

“Is that a challenge?”

You giggle at him and say, “No.”

Tom grins in response and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you back down and rolling just enough that you’re both lying down on the bed. “It was hot, though. Tell me it wasn’t hot.”

“It wasn’t hot.”

He gasps. “Excuse me?!”

“You asked me to tell you that!” you laugh, shoving him away when he threatens to tickle your sides. “Get the fuck off me, or I’ll call Harry.”

“Which one of them?” he teases back jokingly, tickling you anyway. You almost kick him in the face to avoid his touch.

With an eye-roll, and still reeling him in by the shoulders for a hug, you peck his mouth a couple of times, sort of as an apology for what you said. It was a joke, because he did ask you to say it wasn’t hot, of course, so you settle back down and say, “Yes, it was very hot.”

“Fucking knew it.” He grins up at you, hand softly resting on the small of your back as you cuddle up to him.

“If you couldn’t tell from the double orgasm…” you add. “Will you let me sleep now?”

You expect an answer from him since he has stopped making advances, always respectful when you say no, the same way you are when he happens to not be in the mood. Still, he responds with another question, “Can I wake you up with my tongue?”

You roll your eyes at his suggestion, but the idea isn’t that bad. You can’t imagine anything better than his hot, wet, skilled, perfect tongue licking you awake.

“I love Pussy Lickin’ Weekend, baby.”

~ ⛳️ ~

fantasyverse masterpost « · » main masterlist

final note » this is it, the end of the fantasyverse. thank you for all your support and kind words

#fantasyverse #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #holland #b writes

[crayonwriting]

Falling Asleep On The Train (Miya Twins)

first time to write a headcanon/blurb thingy... idek what i'm supposed to call it

MIYA ATSUMU

Atsumu felt exhausted after an intense practice at volleyball today. He had left almost immediately after practice, leaving behind his brother and the rest of his teammates who planned to go out for grilled meat. On any other day, he would’ve been enthusiastic to go with them but now, he just wanted to get home, shower and sleep for at least three days.

Thankfully the train was not that full and he was able to secure a seat. He slouched slightly, just enough so he could rest the back of his head on the train window. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes. He fell asleep almost immediately.

A few minutes had passed when Atsumu was woken up by a sudden weight on his left shoulder. Half-awake, he groggily looked to his side and was met with a mop of hair. He leaned a bit forward and saw the person wearing the Inarazaki High School uniform.

He tried getting a peak of their face but to no avail. He would have to wake them up to do that. With his mind still dazed from fatigue, he settled back into his seat and lay his head onto the person’s head, nuzzling into it a little bit to get comfy. With a soft warmth radiating from the person beside him, he fell asleep once again, now even more relaxed than earlier.

Little did he know that it was you, from 2nd Year, Class 4; a member of the literature club; a part-timer at the cafe a few blocks from school and his long-time crush.

MIYA OSAMU

You and Osamu had managed to get on the train just as the doors were closing. There were a few available seats so you sat on one near the back. You let out a sigh of relief once you were settled.

“Phew! All that running tired me out!” You closed your eyes and leaned back in your seat.

“Well, if you just came with me and ‘Tsumu when we jog on the weekends, you wouldn’t be this tired.” Osamu chuckled, sitting beside you. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“No, thank you. I’m not built to be an athlete or for any sports for that matter.” You smiled. “I’m okay with cheering you guys on from the sidelines.” You closed your eyes once again.  Osamu took this opportunity to stare at you for a minute. He had a soft expression on his face. 

These moments were what he cherished most—when you’re not looking or when you have your attention somewhere else—because it allows him to take a good look at you. He gets reminded of why he has fallen head over heels for you. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts when you softly murmured his name. Just as he turned to look at you again, your head rested against his shoulder. He felt literal chills run down his spine.

Shit. He mentally cursed himself. He took a glance at you. Osamu noticed your neck looked a bit strained so he relaxed more into his seat and lightly adjusted your head so that it rested comfortably against his shoulder. Your breaths were coming out evenly now. You always did fall asleep easily, no matter where and when. 

Osamu sat stiffly at how close you were. He was okay with your usual congratulatory hugs or high fives but after realising his feelings for you, every touch sent fire to his skin. He knows he can’t avoid your touches for long. He knows that he’s going to confess to you sooner or later—especially since his brother and Suna know about it—but for now, he’ll let you sleep on his  shoulder for as long as the train ride takes. And hopefully next time, you’ll allow him to sleep on you too.

the tiktok video this was inspired from got deleted

4/28/2022

#b writes #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagine #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #osamu #osamu x reader #osamu imagine #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu imagine

[the-singular-peep]

It was a silly sentiment, one that an average person would realize quickly was based on false pretenses. But Wednesday was no average person; she was determined and stubborn and too smart to see the obvious. The universe (or God or Satan or whoever) had made it clear to her what her place was – she was undeserving of care, or love, or affection -- and she could take care of herself.

Or, Wednesday doesn't take care of her injuries from the Crackstone battle and gets severely infected, Enid is hopelessly in love but is compulsively heterosexual, Yoko is a great wingman, and everyone is scared Wednesday is just going to die.

#b writes #wednesday #wednsday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #the addams family #wednesday 2022 #fanfiction #slow burn #hurt/comfort #sickfic #sick Wednesday Addams #protective enid Sinclair #dumbass gays

[thisisevenharderthannamingablog]

Another NaNoWriMo finished with 50,011 largely terrible words. :)

#b writes #nanowrimo #now for some tea and a cookie

[ghostsbaby]

pairings - ghost x fem!babygirl reader

word count - 1.8k

warnings - smut smut smut and barely a plot. unprotected piv, oral sex slightly, fingering, name calling, spanking, daddy kink, age gap probably. babygirl is in her early twenties and ghost is ghost.

a/n - who proof reads so don’t message me about my mistakes or if something doesn’t make sense cause i’ll look at it later. maybe 😅 this will probably have more parts but for now this is your introduction to babygirl and her big bad ghosty 🥰

-

“You wanna act like that in front of them again?”

Ghost had your back pinned against the wall, your body pressed tightly to his you swore his heart was beating a million stars. The others were seated at a table with a few empty rounds and all cups half full. Nobody at the table even noticed you and Ghost had left or that your glasses were still overflowing the top with foam leaving both the glass and table underneath sticky.

“Didn’t like the show Lieutenant?” you gave him that stupid smile he wanted to fuck off your face.

Maybe it was the way you were grinding in Price’s lap that finally got you the attention you wanted. It only took him 2 years. Or how you whispered in Soap’s ear that you weren’t wearing any panties under that dress and he repeated it out loud being the final straw to break the camel’s back. Ghost never looked more angry to be left out of your pretty little parade around everyone’s dick but his.

“Sure, you made everyone load their pants just by being a slut at the table but it’s gonna take a lot more than that for me Sweetheart.”

Ghost grabbed your cunt through the opening of your dress and carried you into the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door behind him. Anyone coming close to that hallway would be able to hear his cock splitting you in half and know what they’d be walking into and he’d have to bite their head off.

Jealousy wasn’t something he ever thought was apart of him like that. Especially with a young pretty girl like you, but you drove him mad. Couldn’t get you out of his head and he tried, knowing it was getting bad when it started to affect his work, not being able to concentrate every time you opened your mouth.

Price started to notice something off, but only making it worse for giving in to you himself as Simon could only sit and watch you tie tongues with the captain one night.

“I think I need another.”

Ghost watched as Price pointed to his cheek from across the table, hinting for you to give him a small kiss. It only made the Lieutenants blood boil that all he could do was sit and watch the girl he’s been obsessing over, go and kiss someone else. Worse was looking back over to find you seated in Price’s lap occupied by his tongue and muffled groans, leaving before he could witness you sit back in your own seat and look for him.

Innocent girl like you, or so he thought. Always pushing his buttons and making him mad and you weren’t even his. That was the problem. Every guy he knew seemed to want you. Making it obvious and watching you eat it all up while sitting in the laps of men he now despised because they had their hands all over you. His. He knew what they were thinking and it made him wanna snap necks even more.

“Don’t like seeing Price’s cock stand when he looks at me? You know what he likes being called? Daddy.”

There it was.

Ghost pushed you hard against the bathroom sink, bending you down while your short dress slid up exposing your dripping cunt. Looks like you weren’t wearing any panties just like Soap announced, not being able to stop staring at your already puffy pussy.

God, you also have a mouth on you that makes him wanna sink his cock into it.

“Don’t fucking call him that.”

He snarled.

“Don’t call him what? Daddy? But he likes it.”

You were just pressing every button. He didn’t wanna know how you knew that about the captain. Little did Simon know, you were joking.

A surprise sting to your left ass cheek had your mouth open in shock. Another. And another. By now with how hard his hand made contact with your skin it would be a miracle if his hand print wasn’t permanently fried into your skin.

“Daddy!”

His ears perked up. You were calling him that.

Ghost quickly focused back to your glistening cunt, taking another moment to stare. He was hoping every drop of you was because of him and not the others. The grip on your hips tightened, playing scenarios in his head about them being the ones making you soaked like this and it only made him wanna fuck you harder, make you forget about them.

You noticed the moment he had, no other movement than his chest rising and falling heavily. His eyes almost looked like they were glowing, wiggling your hips eagerly to get his attention and he growled, slapping that painful spot again harder before spreading your pussy lips with his fingers. Fuck.

Opening you up for his cock, sliding his index in and out a few times before slipping in his middle to hear you moan while stretching you with two digits.

“More.”

Your voice was soft and needy. He wasn’t going fast enough, didn’t know you wanted him to break you in half so quickly.

“More baby?”

Ghost questioned, not hesitating in pushing his ring finger inside your wet hole before noticing the little noises he was bringing out of you. He was bringing you pleasure, not anyone else and it only made his pants tighter, fucking his fingers and curling them inside you. His calloused thumb easily found your swollen clit and rubbed circles, eyes lighting up at the way you would react.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck don’t stop.”

His fingers started to soak, listening to how wet your pussy was. He wanted to take his time with you, pry you open like the last present on Christmas morning, but he was already past that and your sounds weren’t helping.

He kept you still against the bathroom sink while unzipping his pants and undoing his belt. Your head snapped back to look behind you, searching for it. You would never be able to count on your fingers how many times you’ve wondered what it looked like, smirking as he watched you now try and stare.

His hand brought it from the confinement of his pants, long and rock hard. It hung off his body, swaying with each movement closer to your needy pussy. Thick, wider than a pop can and longer than your entire leg. You didn’t know how he walked with that trunk between his legs, but you never heard a complaint.

Your cunt squeezed around his fingers and his eyes blew up, pulling them out after your pussy molded to them. He was about to nudge at your entrance after stroking his cock with his wet fingers, coating the head but you squealed. Holy fuck it was massive. Bigger than most mens forearms and he was about to stuff it inside your tight cunt because he couldn’t hold back any longer.

Rubbing the tip of his swollen head against your soaked cunt he coats his cock with more of your arousal and slowly dips in. The helpless whimpers leaving your fuckable mouth had him trying not to buck forward all at once and just sink right in to watch you squirm, whither away and make pretty noises for him.

“Ghost please.”

You panted under him. His head pushed past your entrance and stopped, leaving you to focus on the stinging pain he left your hole.

He snapped back into reality that this was real. His hips go forward as yours go back both impatiently, feeling all of him at once while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Fuck you looked so cock dumb in the mirror before him and he started to pound viciously.

“Fuck!”

Ghost grunts, feeling your walls slowly stretch around his heavy cock. He’s never felt anyone this tight before, not even thinking if you needed more time. It was long enough for you to get used to his size, right? You were like a dream that he never wanted to end and he was about to show you just how rough he could get. Your noises and movements made him only go faster, fuck you harder.

You made noises he’s never heard of, only driving him deeper. Ghost had his hands on your hips just about the entire time until you felt them trail up your side, one grabbing your breast through your summer dress, pulling the fabric down to expose your hard nipple to play and squeeze.

Simon was so lost in just looking at your swollen pussy that a condom didn’t even cross his mind, wondering what kind of game we would be playing if you weren’t on a contraceptive and blowing his entire load inside you.

Your hands squeezed the bathroom sink so hard you thought it would have broken from the wall by now. Not to mention the giant in a balaclava who you’ve never actually seen before pound into you relentlessly. You wondered if anyone was outside the door listening to you scream the word “Daddy!” Over and over again while your cunt got impossibly tighter around his cock.

“Fuck baby, never felt a pussy this tight. Being such a fucking good girl for Daddy.”

You almost came from his low growl in your ear, his hand pushing your jaw to look towards him in the mirror. Only looking into his eyes, the only thing you could see.

A wail left your lips, crying at the growing friction between your legs and the desperate need to let the pleasure build and completely come crashing down. Ghost took notice to the slack in your body, hand firmly placing around your throat and squeezing.

“Come all over Daddy’s dick, baby.”

He snarled in your ear while his pace quickened, holding you down while the other plays and toys with your clit in circular motions. Ghost feels you tighten, whimpering for release and doesn’t stop when you death grip his cock.

“Daddy, Daddy I’m coming!”

He doesn’t let up, fucking faster and harder into your pussy while you cry for him to slow down, releasing your hands from the counter to dig into his arms. His thrusts started to get sloppy, bucking every few times until he leaves your cunt gaping, pulsing around nothing, pushing you hard to the bathroom floor on your knees.

Ghost had a perfect angle to your face, stroking his cock against your already open mouth until thick ropes of hot cum painted your delicate face. You’ve never heard him moan and grunt like that before, making your pussy flutter for him all over again.

He pushed the tip of his cock into your mouth, watching your eyes meet his while his head leaned back, your lips closing in to suck any extra cum from his hole, swirling your tongue around it a few times, hand coming to wrap around the base of his cock before he slaps your hand away.

“Fucking slut.”

Simon grinned, pulling you off your swelling knees. He already had the door open, cold look in his eye that he wasn’t going to let you wash your face.

-

a/n - OKAY LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. SHOULD I WRITE MORE OF THEM. DO WE LIKE IT. It’s an introduction so there will be lots lots more. 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣

#b writes #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley #simon riley smut #ghost smut #mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #ghost x babygirl!reader #captain john price

[ladylooch]

Current Master List

Updated: 1.12.2024 | plz read rules here before requesting 😘

Purple Text indicates a series/ LadyLooch AU

Smut is indicated with a * ; 18+ content, Minors DNI

Mat Barzal

Drunk Me

Your Protector *

Barzy on a First Date

College Graduation

Sweet Caretaker

Anthony Beauvillier

Begin Again

Kevin Fiala

Letters in your Last Name (Series) *

Magic in the Kitchen * & The Best Part of It * & Beach Day

All Star

Hot Tub Smut *

Nico Hischier

What My World Spins Around (Series) *

Handsy in Target

Where I'm Supposed to Be

Hurt on the Road

Ours *

Protector

Nico's Biggest Fan *

Next Morning

The Devil and a Ranger *

What the Doctor Ordered

Clingy

A Night of Firsts *

Morning After

Zebras on a roof top

Part 2

Tik Tok Torture

part 2

Fake *

You're Not The One

Flower Picking *

Swiss Showers *

Crossing Paths

A Real Man *

At Home with Nico

Losing Control *

Unexpected

No Nut November *

Nico's New Girlfriend

Movie Night at Home

Summer Heat *

Nico Hischier and Anniversaries *

Yoga

Recovery *

His Superstar *

Anything to you *

Island Injury

Halloween Let Down

Nico Hischier & Timo Meier & Kevin Fiala

Lio & Lucie ( Hischier & Meier cousin Blurb Series) *

Liv X Luca (Meier & Fiala kids Blurb Series) *

Adrian Kempe

Another Round of Me and You * & Yours

Greener Side of that Fence

Soft Moments

40

Skating Coach

Friends to Lovers & New Girlfriend

The Way You Look Tonight

Parallel Lines

Timo Meier

Loving & Leaving (Series) *

Never Til Now *

Inexperienced *

New Neighbor in Jersey

Nailed It *

Keep My Head Up

Beard Burn *

Halifax *

More of This

Flashing *

Skating with the Sharks

Eager Beaver *

Yacht In Ibiza *

John Marino

Odds were against us

Trevor Moore

Choose Me

Brady Skjei

All About You *

Bacon

Tie Me Up *

Miles Wood

Shot In the Dark AU (Series) *

Size Matters *

Nothing Like Her

Days Like This

Mile High Miles *

Bookworm

I Need a Big Boy *

Perfect Storm

All I'm Seeing is Red *

Concert with your big boy

#my writing #b writes

[spagheddiediaz]

inspiration saturday!

tagged by @thewolvesof1998

bc i woke up this morning to see that taylor sang you are in love as her second surprise song last night and i was immediately slapped in the face with buddie feels.

i think it will eventually be a full length fic based off the song but anyway please enjoy

burnt toast, sunday

Sleeping through the night was rare for Buck. If his neighbor’s echoing voice didn’t wake him out of a deep sleep, it was a nightmare. If a barking dog outside his window at 3am didn’t do the trick, Maddie drunk butt dialing him after karaoke night would pull him right out of his peaceful slumber. Tonight, though? Tonight was one of those rare nights where his brain was able to shut off the outside world completely as his body sank deeper and deeper into the familiarity of the Diaz couch.  At least the sun was up when he was awoken to the sound of an alarm blaring, his mind telling him to get up, jump into his turnouts, and hop into the truck. His eyes blinked open, realizing instantly he wasn’t at the station bunk room and was instead in Eddie’s living room, a half-empty beer bottle on the coffee table from the night before. He lifted his head, looking around and instantly recognizing the familiar smell.  The smell of …smoke. “Chris - CHRISTOPHER.” Buck screamed at the top of his lungs, his body bolting off the couch before his mind had the chance to even wake up. “CHRIS - EDDIE!” He screamed, knocking down the end table and running down the hall to find Christopher sitting at the kitchen table with a look of pure judgment on his face. Eddie was leaning against the counter, a fire extinguisher by his side as he stared at the piece of completely burnt toast on his plate.  “I.. don’t want to talk about it.” Eddie shook his head, moving the extinguisher back against the wall of the counter.  Buck’s heart was still racing even though he could very clearly see that neither of his boys were in any type of danger whatsoever.. Unless you count having no breakfast as danger. Which.. Yeah. Hangry Eddie could sometimes be dangerous. He went to pick Christopher up, needing to feel that he was safe. Christopher let him, wrapping his arms and legs around Buck and letting himself snuggle into his neck.  Once Buck’s pulse returned to a normal rhythm, he let out a long breath of relief,  his hand rubbing Christopher’s back in slow circles, the movement grounding him.  Chris was older now. And while the days of routine snuggles before bedtime were behind them, Christopher was the most emotionally intelligent kid Buck had ever met. He knew when to give Eddie space, and when a hug would ease his mind. He knew to ask Buck to take him out for ice cream after a rough shift, and when to “accidentally” fall asleep against his side during movie night. Most of all, he knew when and how to lighten the mood of any situation, really. “Buck?” Chris asked, lifting his head from where it was resting in his neck. “Yeah, Superman?” Buck asked, shifting him in his arms. He looked to the fire extinguisher, and then to his father. “Is this… technically ironic?” Buck was only able to keep a straight face for about .4 seconds before bursting out into laughter, having to set Christopher down so he could try and collect himself, but every time he tried he fell into another laughing fit, clutching at his ribs while tears started to roll down his cheeks. “It’s not that funny.” Eddie’s lips couldn’t help but curve up at the sound of Buck’s laughter, his body relaxing at one of his favorite sounds.  “It’s - Eddie. You do realize you just technically worked on a Sunday.” Buck said through his tears, wiping them away with his sleeve. It might not have been a five alarm, but Eddie did just put out a fire. “And without overtime pay!” He teased, knowing damn well Eddie wouldn’t be stepping foot into 118 on a Sunday unless the words “overtime” were spoken.  “I’d put you on the couch..” Eddie glared at Buck, his smile still not fading. “But you’re already there.” “Boom. Roasted.” Chris made a fist and punched the air towards Buck, letting both of them know he wasn’t taking anyone’s side.. At least not openly. “So… Buck. Can you make pancakes?”  “As long as your dad doesn’t go near the stove.” He walked towards Eddie, placing a hand on his waist only to push him out of the kitchen ever so gently.

tagging (zero pressure!!) @king-buckley @forthewolves @cowboy-buck @monsterrae1 @bellabrady @thosetwofirefighters @sibylsleaves @housewifebuck @wikiangela @buckactuallys @cowboy-buddie @tawaifeddiediaz @prince-buck-diaz @anxieteandbiscuits @hattalove @messyhairdiaz @alyxmastershipper @elvensorceress @woodchoc-magnum @mrevanbuckley

#buddie #buddie fic #b writes #911 fic #buck x eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #this was so fun #taylor swift you have ruined my life

[quarantineddreamer]

The Go-Between

For @jyndor, I hope this brings you joy, and wishing you a bright, happy new year to come 💙 (Also this is my first time participating in a fandom secret santa and I don't think I've ever been more nervous to post a story. Soooo posting and retreating to a kyber cave byeee!) ✨ B

Summary: Everyone knows it's about time for Cassian and Jyn to get together--except for Cassian and Jyn. Sometimes, help comes from unexpected places.

Or: a story of kyber crystals, a stray, and two idiots in love.

The biggest thank you to @gaygingersnaps for beta-reading and to @ninsletamain--all credit for the artwork below goes to this incredibly talented soul, who is also a co-creator of the creature featured in this fic <3

~Click the title to read on AO3~

#rebelcaptain secret santa 2023 #rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fanfic #jyn x cassian #b writes #idiots in love #fluff #so much fluff

[lifeofclonewars]

The final chapter: our favorite ARC twins have been reunited. Go give it a read and feel free to talk about it here or in the comments on AO3!

#b writes #nv #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #domino twins #arc twins #echo #fives #captain rex #kix #coric #briefly at the end

[yourarmsmyhome]

Hi frens,

This stupid voice meter/noise measuring bar did not leave my brain for the past few days...

So I'm bringing you a delayed Minho bday fic (hot and sexy Minsung), for escapism and letting our brains rest a little.

Notes: 18+, cause smut, smut and some more smut, established relationship, with a little bit of fluffy stuff around the edges, a little bit of edging, overstimulation and forcing Sungie baby to be quiet

Cross posted on AO3 if that's where you find joy:

Minho unlocked the door to the dorm, slipped out of his shoes and stashed the cake in the fridge, the kitchen deserted.

He glanced into the empty living room, before walking over to his room and turned the door knob, stepped in and dropped the bags next to the door.

Jisung was lying on his belly, looking at his phone, pillow propped up under his chest and squished against his chin.

Minho stepped closer, lowered himself next to Jisung and patted his butt. "Hi Jagi."

Jisung cooed at the touch, locked his phone, tossed it to the corner of the bed and cuddled into Minho's lap, "How was the live hyung? Missed you."

"It was fun - they gave me a pudding cake."

Jisung's eyes lit up, making Minho chuckle. "Yes, Han-ah, it's in the fridge, you can have some later."

Jisung's face split into a satisfied grin, before he smushed it back into Minho's stomach and mumbled, "Did they get you any fun gifts hyung?"

Minho chuckled, and started listing the cat butler book, the camping kit and the cereal bowl. The live gifts were usually silly, not to be taken seriously or used ever again. And while he would definitely find a use for the camping kit, the voice meter he unwrapped had immediately given him an idea.

He ran his hand through Jisung's soft hair, making Jisung rub his face against his thigh. They had spent almost the whole past day together, grabbing dinner and going for a walk by the river, before Han had kissed him at midnight and given him a lazy blowjob as a birthday gift.

Minho really hadn't wanted to leave the room for the live, never wanted to leave Jisung's side, felt like he would never get used to having Jisung all to himself. But he knew how important it was to the fans to celebrate his birthday, and he usually enjoyed doing lives and teasing the fans. So he had gone, had gotten into his manager's car and spent about an hour with the fans, and had gotten fun little gifts out of it.

The thought of the voice meter caused another flurry in his stomach. He pulled Jisung's ear lobe gently, making Jisung look up at him, "Do you know where the maknaes are jagiya?"

Jisung nodded, "Felix is gaming in his room, and Seungmin and Jeongin are watching a movie in Minnie's room."

Minho hummed, fingertips gentle against Jisung's cheek, brushing lightly against his bottom lip, Jisung happily parting his lips to lick Minho's finger. Minho hummed again, then traced his fingers down the side of Jisung's neck, before dragging his fingernails against the shirt, past Jisung's clavicle, finally landing on Jisung's nipple and twisting it between his finger, earning him a soft moan from Jisung's lips.

"Sungie, I was thinking." Minho pulled his hand away from Jisung's nipple and got up, jostling Jisung from his position on Minho's lap and leaving him behind pouting. Minho reached for the bag he had dropped by the door and pulled out the small box, "Want to play a game with a new toy I got?" Jisung sat up straight immediately, eyes wide with curiosity.

Minho chuckled, walked back over to the bed, Jisung's eyes trailing his every move. He slowly opened the box and placed the bar on the nightstand. He clapped his hands and saw the light flash green, then turned around to face Jisung with a smirk on his lips.

Jisung's eyebrows were raised, a whiney "hyung?" escaping his lips.

"It measures noise, Sungie. And since the others are in their rooms resting, we would definitely not want to cause too much noise, right?"

Jisung swallowed hard, understanding right away what Minho was insinuating. Minho leaned towards Jisung, their foreheads touching, breath mingling. "Can you be quiet for me, Sungie baby?"

Jisung swallowed again, eyes locked in on Minho's, licked his lips, nodded.

Minho smiled, he loved how responsive Jisung was, how quick a hug could turn into more with just a whisper or a well placed kiss. He also loved how loud Jisung could be, all moans and whines as soon as Minho just so much as looked in the direction of Jisung's dick. But he also loved to ruin his boyfriend, to let him come undone under his fingers, his lips, to hear him beg, all drooling and wet eyed.

He pushed Jisung into the mattress, straddled him, and pressed his lips to Jisung's earlobe. "I want you to keep your voice down, okay baby? If the light turns dark blue, we'll stop until you calm down again. Yeah?"

Jisung whimpered softly in anticipation, but nodded against Minho's cheek. Minho pressed his lips against Jisung's pulse point, parted them and dragged his tongue along Jisung's jaw, up to his lips. Minho smiled, before sinking his teeth into Jisung's bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth. Jisung sighed and Minho's eyes flitted to the bar, seeing the red light flash before it disappeared again. He looked back down at Jisung, who was squirming, lips pressed together tightly, trying not to make any more sounds but clearly eager for more of Minho's touch.

Minho leaned down again, slotted their mouths together, lips spit slick sliding against Jisung's.

He licked against Jisung's lips, Jisung's tongue meeting his, before Minho could even think about pulling away again. Minho licked into Jisung's mouth, the tip of his tongue hooking against Jisung's top teeth.

Kissing Jisung was one of his favorite pastimes, but he had other plans for the rest of their day. So, he slipped his hands under Jisung's shirt, and pushed it up, fingertips pressed into Jisung's waist for a moment before Minho leaned down and ghosted his breath against Jisung's ribs. He dragged his tongue down towards his belly button and bit into the soft flesh. Jisung yelped, and Minho saw the orange light flash, before proceeding to lick along Jisung's abdomen, stopping every few inches to suck on the skin and finish the mark off with a kiss. When he reached the waistband of Jisung's sweatpants he placed his fingers underneath it and dragged the fabric down enough to expose the tip of Jisung's dick.

Minho hummed in appreciation, pressed a kiss to the tip, then stuck his tongue out and teased it over the slit. Jisung smacked his hand over his mouth, muffling a moan, but Minho saw that the light bar still picked up the sound, flashing yellow.

Minho grinned, stomach swooping with excitement at how easy this would be, before yanking down Jisung's sweatpants in one swoop and grabbing Jisung's hard-on with one hand. He tugged his hand up once and saw Jisung's eyes roll back with pleasure. Minho's eyes locked onto the voice meter, before sinking down between Jisung's legs and wrapping his mouth around Jisung's length, tongue pressed flat against the throbbing veins. Jisung couldn't act fast enough, a muffled moan slipped past his fingers and Minho chuckled when he saw the yellow light flash again. He dragged his mouth up Jisung's full length, before sinking back down, Jisung's tip hitting his uvula. Another yellow flash at Jisung's groan.

Minho repeated the movement a few times, matching the slide of his mouth with his fist. Jisung's breathing got heavier when Minho pressed his fingertips to the inside of Jisung's thigh, gently dragging his fingertips alongside the sensitive skin. Minho pulled his mouth away and landed it on Jisungs balls, licking down, along his taint and finally pressed it flat against Jisung's hole. Jisung whined, the light only reached orange. Minho continued to lick and suck until Jisung relaxed enough for him to press his tongue into Jisung's heat. His hands were massaging Jisung's butt as he was rimming him, allowing Jisung to relax, before sitting up and grabbing for the bottle of lube under the bed. Jisung moaned at the loss of contact, whimpering, "Please more."

Minho smiled and spread the cold gel between his fingers, warming it up before leaning back down and pressing a fingertip against Jisung's hole, Jisung's body convulsed, dick twitching, but the moan was muffled enough to only reach the orange light. Minho pulled Jisung's legs into the air, placing them over his shoulders, and pressed a lubed up finger into Jisung, curled it up, pushing his fingertip against Jisung's prostate, pulling another moan from Jisung's lips, and a yellow light from the bar.

"Hyung, please, more, please." Jisung's voice was barely a whisper. Minho obeyed happily, wrapping a hand around Jisung's dick again and pulled the other hand away enough to slot two fingers against Jisung's hole, earning him a shaky nod from Jisung, his eyes pleading.

Minho pressed a kiss to the inside of Jisung's knee, circled his fingers up and around Jisung's tip and pressed past the circle of muscles with the other hand. Jisung's hand wasn't fast enough when he tried to slam it back onto his lips and a loud raspy "Fuck" escaped him. Minho saw the meter flash purple and pulled away immediately. Jisung's eyes widened and a pout played on his lips.

But Minho sat down on his heels and took in the image in front of him, Jisung's shirt rucked up past his nipples, his legs slung over Minho's shoulders, his dick pulsing and glistening with precum and Minho's spit. Jisung swallowed down another moan when their eyes locked, seeing Minho's hard unrelenting gaze.

"Please hyung. I'll be good, I promise," Jisung's voice raspy, but soft enough to avoid getting more than an orange light response.

Minho winked and placed his hand back onto Jisung's dick, palm gliding over his tip, before closing his fist around it and stroking down the full length. Jisung's hips buckled up, and he heard him gasp, before pressing two fingers into Jisung, stretching him, then adding a third finger.

Jisung's breath got heavier, pants iterating with whines and moans, but Minho was surprised to see that he only ever reached the yellow light.

When Minho pulled away the next time, Jisung's mouth was open in a silent moan, he looked at Minho pleadingly "Hyung, 've been good, wasn't loud, promise!"

Minho's heart smacked against his ribcage, and he leaned down enough to plant a kiss on Jisung's lips.

"You've been very good, baby. But I thought you were ready for your reward, or do you want me to keep teasing you with my fingers?"

Jisung's eyes widened, "No, 'm ready for you, hyung - always ready for you!"

Minho smiled again and pulled down his pants, freeing his own erection from the fabric. He grabbed the lube again and slicked himself up before pressing his tip against Jisung's entrance. They locked eyes, Jisung nodding pleadingly, and Minho sank down slowly into Jisung's heat.

Jisung whimpered loudly, causing the light bar to max out and Minho pulled out without hesitation. Jisung panted heavily, hips grinding against Minho’s thighs, looking for friction, but failing miserably.

Minho waited until Jisung's body was limp again and his whimpers had become soft enough to reach the red light levels before sinking back into Jisung. Jisung clasped both hands over his mouth, stifling his moan and Minho’s heart somersaulted, his stomach swooping at the image of Jisung losing himself again.

Minho bottomed out, hips grinding against Jisung’s thighs, his arms circled around Jisung’s legs against his chest. He pulled out slowly, savoring the friction against his length, then sank back down, seeing Jisung’s eyes roll back and his hands slipping from his face.

Minho knew from years of loving Jisung that Jisung wouldn’t be able to hold in another moan, if Minho bottomed out again, but that was exactly what he wanted, so he pulled out slowly, before pushing his dick back into Jisung.

Jisung dissolved underneath him with a loud moan, eyes slipping shut. Minho kissed Jisung’s ankle and glanced at the light bar, seeing the dark blue flash and swallowed hard. He breathed in deeply before pulling out again, groaning at having to leave Jisung’s heat, but knowing that having Jisung beg for more, would be so worth it.

He allowed Jisung to calm down again before repeating the cycle a few more times, Jisung promising Minho to be good for him, to keep quiet, allowing Minho a few thrusts before a moan trembled from his lips again, making Minho pull out, hands stroking up and down Jisungs legs to ease him back down.

The next time Jisung had calmed down again Minho pressed into him, palm closing around Jisung’s twitching cock, he matched his thrusts with the slide of his fist and Jisung whimpered quietly, whispering “Hyung, ‘m so close, can I come please?”

Minho nodded, pressing an open mouthed kiss against Jisung's leg and thrusting into Jisung again. Jisung spilled over Minho's hand with a loud “Fuck.” The light bar flashed purple and Minho pulled out again, allowing Jisung to settle down for a few seconds, before grinding his dick into Jisung’s hole again.

Jisung whimpered quietly, mouth agape, pants slipping out in a fast staccato. Minho felt his stomach tightening at how fucked out Jisung looked already, but he wanted more.

He kept a steady pace, pulling soft whimpers from Jisung but made sure Jisung's noise stayed below the green light level. The feeling of Jisung around him, the soft noises, Jisung's closed eyes, wet trails streaking his cheeks, his mouth open, drool slipping past his lips, made Minho lose himself. He dug his fingertips into Jisung's thigh again, steadying himself as he continued circling his hips, thrusting into Jisung, pulling more and more whimpers from Jisung's lips. Then another string of fucks left his mouth, the voice meter flashed dark blue, but Minho had stopped caring.

Minho let go of Jisung's legs and leaned down, framing his arms around Jisung's head on the pillow. He pushed his lips to Jisung's neck, making Jisung's breath hitch, then slotting their lips together. Their tongues tangled together, while Minho kept thrusting into Jisung, feeling Jisung's dick, hard again, grinding against his hip bones on each thrust.

Jisung sighed into Minho's mouth and Minho moaned, his thrusts becoming less controlled, searching for release. "Fuck, hyung, 'm gonna cum again, pleaseeee."

Minho grabbed between them, circling Jisung's tip with his hand as he continued to grind into him, another whispered "Please" from Jisung pushing him over the edge. He fisted Jisung's dick harder, his mouth against Jisung's ear, whispering with a raspy voice "You've been so good, baby. You're so fucking hot!"

Jisung moaned at the praise, spilling into Minho's hand and streaking Minho's shirt. Minho kissed his cheek, his lips, waited for Jisung's body to stop trembling, before rolling onto his back, Minho's sticky fingers finding Jisung's and grabbing onto each other like a lifeline, connected, always.

#skz smut #minsung #minsung smut #b writes #happy belated birthday lino