#anyways the point is i got distracted and ended up learning more about sex on premises places and im just like

[lokh]

being like man i probably gotta talk to people/make friends. finding out ways to make that happen irl and being like ykno what nevermind

#the effort involved........ i dont do anything or go anywhere so thats the first problem #and i dont do that becos i prefer not leaving the house and also thats effort. so i have to beat that urge #and then like. go places with the Intent of talking to strangers and initiating conversation?????? #at this point its like dude u know you dont HAVE to do this if u. dont want akndbfhb #i feel like i. should lmao i do feel like left to my own devices i might rot #as in like. living independently etc becos thats gonna happen at some point. parents getting on in years #this is probably not the best motivation to try making friends LMAO but like it is what it is! #anyways the point is i got distracted and ended up learning more about sex on premises places and im just like #fascinated. whole other world i know nothing about and some people regularly partake in. a whole other culture lmao #I KNOWWWW its like. u HAVE to put urself out there and be slightly uncomfortable #but i start thinking about like. what do i get from it ratio to effort im like..... bro i dont even like talking to people that much #u kno that one post abt like. autistic people perpetually starting outside the comfort zone #or was it about chronic illness. anyway yeah LMAO

[stargirlfics]

Misbehavior

Joel Miller x Black F!Reader

Summary: It’s the first and last time you ever talk back to his face

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, post-outbreak, Joel and Ellie are settled in Jackson, established relationship, brat tamer!Joel vibes, smut: rough sex, unprotected vaginal sex, orgasm denial, hair pulling, spanking mentions, dirty talk

Word Count: 3.1k

Cannot stop thinking about Joel’s sick little smirk here! I want him to put me in my place so bad, hope you enjoy this one!

It’s the way Joel Miller looks riding his horse, a hunting knife on his hip and a rifle held expertly along with the reigns in his broad hands that makes your skin prickle and your breathing deepen. 

Spring is still yet thawing the cold woods ahead of you but you only feel heat staring at his sturdy shoulders, sturdy everything actually, that you knew to be a fact, smiling to yourself about it as your own horse trailed closeby just a few feet behind him. 

Being paired with him and being with him period felt right, natural, like somehow this was always where you were meant to be in this life. 

You trusted each other now, able to move in silence like this, with his steady and well adjusted trigger finger and your sharp eyes, pointing out tracks, watching for signs of life, listening for infected or raiders, the two of you undoubtedly working well together. 

In fact everyone in Jackson said so, especially Ellie, but if any of them knew just how much of a brat you’d been to him in the beginning they’d be surprised you were together at all. 

It’s not that you and him got off on the wrong foot, but keeping him just on the edge of aggravated kept you at a safe distance away from acting on your distracted, midday, late night thoughts about him. 

He was wary of strangers anyways and back then you were unknown to each other and gaining trust had taken time but eventually you stopped keeping each other at arm's length.

Started seeing each other around the stables more often, or rather you saw Ellie there and quickly learned that wherever she was, Joel wasn’t too far behind. 

You remembered showing her the way around the barn, where supplies were kept in case she ever needed anything, noticing her interest in the animals, encouraging it, indulging in her never ending questions because you only wanted to see her smile. 

In retrospect you think that’s why Joel tolerated your game of push and pull, why he warmed up to you in the end, because you were someone his kiddo approved of. 

Funny how things could change, how a relationship could form in between quiet glances and soft smiles, weathered walls falling at the brush of his hand against yours and that smooth drawl saying your name as if it were sacred. 

That was then and this was now, patrolling the perimeters together in the moonlight. 

A soft toned whistle that loosened from his lips caught your attention, spine straightening at the signal that was just for you and him. 

“Hm?” came your distracted hum, huffed in response while you picked up speed so your horses were walking almost side by side then. 

“I heard you went out on patrol completely on your own the other night, yeah? While knowin raiders have been close, ain’t that right? So I’m only going to say this once…start explaining.” 

His voice is clipped, a quiet, contained anger in them reminding you of his sharper edges, the ones you’d only caught glimpses of, heard whispers of, that visceral part of him that only raged to protect the people he loved most. 

Joel would never hurt you, if you were certain of anything it was that, but there were times where you wanted to feel even just a fraction of his wrathful touch, to be reminded of what he’s capable of, knowing he could make it hurt in the best way.

It’s the thought along with the shiver rolling through your limbs that makes your pace falter, as you scramble for words and then for air next when all you were met with was dark eyes cutting a pointed glance your way. 

“Fuck…ok yes, I did but it was only because there was already a group of us nearby, it felt safe. They sent someone back to get a message to me that they found tracks, a stag, just needed my help finding him. Then one of Tommy’s guys escorted me back, it was fine.”  

“Doesn’t mean you should have gone on your own, I  don’t give a damn how safe it was.” 

“Hey! I’ve been hunting and going on patrols by myself long before you showed up,” you shot back at his harsh retort, suddenly feeling defensive. “I know these woods like the back of my hand, I could be blindfolded and still come back with more game than you, old man.”

He scoffed at your insult, another heavy glare coming right after. 

“I don’t doubt that for a second, darlin. Just wish you would have told me is all I’m sayin.” 

There’s weight in his words, a deeper meaning you pick up immediately and you know he’s right and there’s no denying that you’d be chewing him out ten times worse if he’d done the same, the risk of losing each other an easy nerve to strike after all that’s happened. 

A beat of silence punctates the air before you’re speaking again, tone much softer, apologetic. 

“I hear you. I should have at least told you and I’m sorry I didn’t, I wasn't really thinking in the moment. Thank you, by the way, for caring about me enough to say something.” 

You hoped he could hear the guilt laced in your words, and the gratefulness of them too, still getting used to someone so wired to protect which never failed to make your heart flip. Nobody told you it could feel like this. 

“S’alright, of course I care. I don’t wanna downplay how skilled you are either, I just hate thinking of something happenin and not being there you know.” 

That had you smiling a little, pulse fluttering at the reminder of your feelings for each other, the gravity behind what he was saying. 

Gently you let your leg nudge his, both your horses slowing as you came to the edge of the perimeter you were watching.

“I promise it won’t happen again.” 

The softening edge of Joel’s eyes were visible now as he looked at you, giving you a firm but approving nod. 

Silence settles between you again, only lighter this time with feelings eased and things smoothed over though for you, there was a leftover kind of excitement stirring in your tummy. 

Your ears were still ringing with the gruffness of his voice, an antsy energy in your limbs at how stern he had been. Heated distraction lodged itself front and center in your mind, thoughts of Joel handling you just as harshly as his glares had been making you squirm in your saddle. 

A low chuckle interrupts the tiny sparks of a dirty daydream you didn’t even realize you’d fallen into until now. 

“What’s so funny?” you feign innocence. 

“Nothin, just think it’s cute when you get that look on your face, only happens when you’re hungry…or when you wanna be fucked.” 

Again, you were left scrambling for words for the second time tonight, heart hammering in your chest at the way the last few words slid from his lips, dripping with some unspoken invitation. 

“I-don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Disagreeing is pointless when you know he can see it written across your face but you refute anyways, adding a bit of attitude to your tone. 

Joel huffs another laugh, clicking his tongue while he encouraged his horse to move again, back in the direction you’d come. 

“Hm, you were so ready to agree with me just a minute ago, now you’re back to sassin me?” 

“Maybe I am. What’s so wrong about that?” you shrug and roll your eyes for good measure. 

He was opening up all the right doors and you were almost too eager to walk through them, craving the part of Joel you knew could get mean.

“I’m really gonna have to do something about that mouth of yours, huh,” he sighed, amusement curling around the edges of his lips. 

Butterflies danced in your core as you smirked back at him, finding your footing quick, “Oh I should hope so, I’ll be waiting.” 

It’s what you leave him with as you surge forward, not straying too far from his line of sight, but enough so that he has some distance to cover. 

Joel gives you a few seconds, lets you think you’re gaining some kind of upper hand before he sets out after you, a tick in his jaw and a hungry itch in his hands. 

–

It’s only a day later that you realize how screwed you are, facing down the stark reality of this little game you started. 

He had cornered you, finding you in the hall leading to his bedroom, a dark glint in his eyes when he tells you it’s an empty house tonight, just you, him and unfinished business. 

The tip of his boot moves to give your heel a light tap then, prompting you to move. 

“Want you in bed, sweetheart. Now.” 

There’s a suspended moment before you’re sealing your fate, pushing the pendulum fully in his direction.

“I don’t really feel like listening to you though, so I guess you’ll just have to make me…if you can even handle it,” you tip your chin up, trying not to be intimidated by the way he’s crowding your space. 

Your skin tingles, never having talked back to him so flat out before. 

Then you realize he’s already got you where he wants, strong hands snaking around your middle until he’s got one on your hip and the other reaching for a fistful of your hair, gripping firmly before he’s moving you forward, pushing you through the doorway. 

A sharp gasp bubbles up from your chest and he’s laughing darkly.  

There’s no use in resisting or struggling but you do anyway, finding a thrill in how easy it is for him to keep you locked in his grip, liking the aggressive pinch of his fingers as he moves your limbs for you, bringing you over to the bed, forcing you to bend over it.

Shaky hands reach for purchase against the sheets as Joel slides his palms over your ass, humming to himself. 

“I keep thinkin bout spanking this pretty ass of yours raw but you’d probably enjoy that too much wouldn’t you?” 

All you can do is whine, too worked up to think of anything witty to say which is probably for the best. 

No time was wasted, nothing held back, no teasing to be had, the two of you desperate now, needy. 

The heated skin of your thighs meets cool air as Joel strips you down, yanking at your clothes carelessly, so what if the fabric tears in his hands, he just needs you bare and underneath him already. 

You work on your top half, wriggling out of your t-shirt, tossing your bra to the floor, moonlight setting the brown of your skin aglow; Joel would have called you an angel if he didn’t know just how wicked your sweet self could really be. 

It’s not long before your cheek is pressed to the bed, hips high in the air, the dripping mess that you are on display as he fits himself behind you. 

He grins, undoing the buckle of his belt with one hand while the other braces against your hip, pressing down, deepening the arch in your back. 

Fuck. 

The arousal swirls achingly across your body, thighs clenching as you watch, his worn flannel falling the ground next to your jeans, your eyes feasting on the expanse of his shoulders, down over his chest, down to where he was drawing himself out, already stiff, flushed and aching to be buried deep. 

“Remember how to tell me if you wanna stop?” His question is one you’re expecting, nodding with a soft whine when he moves to grind his cock against where you’re wet and eager, your hand reaching back to tap a sequence against his skin. 

He seemed to approve of your demonstration, his free hand coating the rest of his length in your slick with a few dirty strokes of his fist before pressing against you, the tip catching and your walls yielding, letting him sink inside. 

“Oh..Joel!” your moan is strained, punctuated with a gasp as you stretch around him, tenderly accomodating to his size. 

There isn’t much time to adjust before he’s rolling his hips and pulling back, pushing an exhale from your lungs when he thrusts back in, nudging deep. 

“Goddamnit, sweetheart. Look at you.” 

There’s so much reverence in his voice, big brown eyes sparking wide with pleasure, so much so you think he just might have forgotten about your earlier insolence. 

But then he’s pulling his hips back and snapping them forward roughly, setting a steady pace that has you panting and crying out, peering over your shoulder at him as he starts to pound into you. 

It’s a sight that makes you clench around him, your ass bouncing back against his hips, the muscles in his forearms, his biceps, tensing from the effort. 

You feel your mind going hazy but a sharp smack to your thigh catches your attention and you realize there’s nowhere for you to run as Joel curves over you.

“Uh uh, it’s not gonna be that easy. You wanted to be a brat so bad, now I’m gonna fuck you like one.”

The hand that had been on your hip smoothes up your back, gripping the back of your neck with a firm squeeze before letting his full weight drive his hips down hard. 

Your teeth bite at his covers, loud pleas and moans barely muffled as he finds that spot, the one that always makes tears well in your eyes. 

Joel relishes in how your body trembles when he keeps himself angled there, watching you choke out apologies and pleas for more all in the same breath, his handprints bound to leave bruises on your skin from the way he’s holding you.

He knows you’re already sensitive, and your body already spent from keeping yourself upright through his thrusts, ones that still weren’t faltering, but he also knew you liked that it hurt so good too. 

“Joel, please I’m gonna-” you begin to sob, feeling the pressure in your core deepen only for it to dissipate as you’re eased off his length a minute later. 

You let your body sink, collapsing onto your tummy with a defeated cry, turning around to face the man who so rudely denied you an orgasm, whatever valid reasonings he had be damned. 

Stepping out of his boots and jeans fully now, you open up to him completely, no longer shy about wanting this so bad, encouraged by how much he seemed to be having fun too, more arousal dripping from your swollen folds at the intensity, the security in knowing he’d take care of you. 

You’d pissed him off with all your sass but you knew he’d never push you past your limits and it’s why you give in so easily now. 

Coherent thoughts fade from your head when Joel finally pulls you down towards the edge of the bed by your ankles and moves between your legs to guide himself back inside you easily, rough hands shoving your thighs back towards your chest so he can split you open and watch as he does. 

Any sense of time or day melts away, your only focus being Joel, only able to feel him, what he’s doing to you, whimpering out curses and moans as he bounces you on his cock, thick fingers reaching down to find your clit. 

The bliss and the pressure build again, making everything hazy once more, eyes fluttering with each thrust now cause you’re too fucked out to concentrate on anything but how good he feels. 

But Joel is watching, studying the pretty faces and sounds you make, one of his hands quick to find its way into your hair again, grabbing a fistful and pulling firmly and slowly, tilting your head up so you can’t do anything but look at him.  

“No, no you focus, right here. Right here, darlin.” he grits out and clinging to his forearms is all you can do to keep yourself steady. 

His other hand leaves your clit to grip at your jaw for a moment, strong legs spearing his hips into you over and over all the while, the wet gush of your pussy taking everything he gives you makes heat settle in your cheeks and spread across your chest. 

Wrecked moans are swallowed by messy kisses, the prickly stubble of his beard against your neck driving you crazy. 

Everything about him makes you clench, your thighs threatening to tighten around his waist the more he gives you. 

But you wanted him to be mean and he hadn’t forgotten, delivering a few searing smacks across your inner thighs, a warning that told you to be good and keep them spread. 

“That’s it, now she’s learning ain’t she. Just needed me to fuck those disrespectful thoughts out of your head, huh.” 

“Yes, yes, fuck yes! Need it so bad!” your wanton cries make his teeth clench while your toes point and curl. 

Everything in you burns molten, succumbing to Joel’s coarser treatment, his fingers, his lips, his cock knowing all your sensitive points and playing to them expertly. 

There’s no reprieve, no break in how soundly he fucks you, the bedframe creaking noisily from the movement, both of you sweaty and breathless but loathe to stop, so much desire washing over you at the frenzied passion in the eyes of the only man that could touch you like this. 

It was everything you had been daydreaming and craving, sobbing into your palm by the time Joel finally let you have what you wanted. 

You came hard, the pleasure drawn out for so long the climax of it shattered you, leaving you feeling soft and weightless against the mattress as he chases his own release, finding it swiftly after you. 

-

It’s much later that you’re tucked against him, a dreamy and well satisfied tilt to your lips as you sink into his touch, those deadly, brilliant hands of his caressing soft circles into your skin, against the places he knows he gripped with force tonight. 

He checks in with you now and then, making sure the comedown doesn’t hit you too hard, only soft words and praise for you now, a few sweet kisses left along your shoulder as you drift in and out of sleep together, exhausted and content beyond words. 

In the quiet of his room you giggle that you swear you’ll never be such a brat to him again but even you can’t deny that if this was what the consequences were, you just might have to talk back to him more often. 

Joel knows it too, gleaming eyes narrowing as he warns that your wicked little mouth is next in line for a lesson if you so dared. 

Oh..well maybe you’d be catching an attitude again much sooner than you thought. 

---

A/N: Eeep it is here! This one took me some time to write just cause I feel like I get in my head about writing Joel correctly a lot of the time and with this including rougher sex it was a little bit of a struggle to write at times but I like how it turned out in the end and I hope this was steamy and fun and hot and that it feels real to the character too! Thank you so much for reading!

Let me know what you think, pls thirst with me!

some tags, no pressure! @eupheme @wyn-n-tonic @ozarkthedog @moreofem @fagen @black-fairy3 @persona-enthusiast @fluffyprettykitty @earlgreychiffon @tarrenterror25 @federalchickensoup @jolly-polly @inklore @babiiface95 @targaryenvampireslayer @chezamanda @simplykenni @allaboardthereadingrailroad

#amalia writes #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x black reader #joel miller x woc #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you

[meanbossart]

Spicy Asks: The Sequel is here. I'm so, so sorry.

Oh he's a very passive guy, he likes being manhandled around and not having to do much of the work (a bit of a pillow princess one might say). As far as fetishes go, he does have fantasies about group sex and of being roughed up, but I think if put in a situation where he could practice it in a controlled environment he'd be like "EHHHH nevermind actually" and go home very quickly LOL

DU drow would have 100% banged Lae'zel if he hadn't killed her. He couldn't stand her personality but they would have gotten on like two peas in a pod in the sack.

He does find Shadowheart very pretty, but they struck up a friendship so quickly that I don't think he could see her in that way 🤷 but that's still a smash, technically speaking.

Jaheira. Ohhhh Jaheira. As far as general dynamics go she would have been the best choice after Astarion, probably - though there is no way in hell or high heavens that she would have ever let him touch her LOL regardless, DU drow finds her looks and personality to be very attractive.

He's pretty much utterly indifferent to anyone else. Wyll is too idealistic, Gale is Gale, Karlach isn't his type, Halsin gets on his nerves - oh, he WOULD have banged Mizora if he hadn't been heads over heels for Astarion by that point.

The man just likes his femmes I guess LOL

HMMMMMMM yes, but since it's not really a porn fic expect any scenes like that to be in line with what we've had so far, where there's more of a focus on developing character dynamics rather than gratuitousness (I hope I've gotten that across, at least LOL).

LOL, It's ok, it's a ridiculous not-name and I'm so sorry for all the people I have made confused and will continue to confuse because of it.

As for your question, definitely not! I personally like big-bottom/smaller-top scenarios so that's why I focus on it, and I do think character-wise those are the roles they fall into most naturally - but they switch around every so often when the mood strikes and it isn't really a big deal.

Oh are you kidding me? The guy LOVES being cared after in an intimate setting. Being doted on, groomed, checked up on, having his hair played with and clothes fixed up - he doesn't express it outwardly much, but these are all things that make his murderous little heart skip a beat. He was the same way pre-tadpole but it was mostly servants and Sceleritas doing it, so he didn't get much out of the exchange; and Orin didn't entertain this at all, or, if she ever did, it was very, very, very rarely and really just a crumb of intimate affection that he most likely misread anyways.

I'm not sure what to say to this one LOL the penis is full of blood already man I don't think a vampire needs to make it any more tempting to themselves to chomp down.

I wrote a thing about that not too long ago :D ! The answer is complicated but, mostly yes.

Alright you joke, but, if you don't think DU drow hasn't spent a little too long lingering over Astarion's feet and ankles then I got amazing news for you.

I touched on what they generally like on the previous edition of Wine Fuelled Spicy Asks, but as for what they like to do as a couple, it's probably a lot of body worship and some playful denial on both ends. Du drow thinks Astarion is the most elegant and limber thing he's ever seen (and he loves how he smells), and Astarion thinks DU drow's body is an expertly put together murder machine. They have a great time being mutually enamored with each other's (and their own) appearances.

I think they also venture into some blood-play and vapid threats of violence in the future, as a treat, but takes a while for them to trust themselves and each other enough to indulge in that kind of thing.

Needs a little direction, plus you gotta learn to enjoy a bit of teeth and a very slobbery time - also I think he distracts easily, It's nice to have a man who's willing to venture the whole perimeter with his mouth but sometimes you do just want him to stay on the prick. But generally speaking - yes, DU drow gives good head. Fun head, even!

What do you people want from me? Do you want schematics? Diagrams? Do you want me to compare their holes to famous people holes? Do you want me to take out my measuring tape and give you numbers, tell you which kind of produce each of them can fit in there???

One is pink, the other one is brown. One of them just looks normal and the other looks and feels a little like it been around the block a few times. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW.

#ask compilation

[silverwings22]

Song of the Sea: Chapter 16: Raising Hatchlings

Chapter Warnings: gambling, sexual implications, catastrophic overthinking Series warning: explicit smut, alien anatomy (it's a monsterfucker fic, guys), major character injury, grief, canon typical violence, autistic meltdowns, and my terrible attempts at Mando'a.

Previous chapter:

Next chapter:

 Hunter had wanted to let the team rest, but Shiani could sense the minute that they'd arrived on Ord Mantell that Cid wanted their services. It didn't matter that they were tired and aching, or that Tech had refused to get off the ship when everyone else did. She still hadn’t seen him since the argument in hyperspace, and she’d been hoping to try to reconcile when they’d landed. Cid was disrupting her planned apology. 

Selfish hearts.

“I've got a job for you boys. It's a big score, enough to start making a dent in what you owe me.” Cid met them at the door. 

Hunter rubbed the bridge of his nose. “... we need to lay low, Cid. Bounty hunters are still after the kid.”

“Let's not forget our mutually beneficial deal, Dark and Broody. Or how much I know about you all.”

Behind Hunter, Shiani started to pop up with blue rings again. She was less than impressed with Cid's threatening them, and still defensive about Omega being captured and raw from the fight. Her jaw trembled, teeth showing through the sides as she tried to keep herself from outright snarling at the trandoshan. “Not very nice, Cid.”

“Easy, Suckers. It's a rescue mission.” Cid frowned. “I thought you liked helping people.”

“My family is more important. Where are you sending us anyway?” She crossed her purple arms. “Who do you want rescued?”

“A senator on Raxus. It'll be worth plenty of credits.” Cid pointed a claw at her. 

Shiani frowned. “Raxus… Separatist senate is on Raxus.” Tech had mentioned to her long ago that most clones dreamed of fighting on Raxus one day, and winning the war for the Republic. He had been less gung-ho about it, but the idea of the war finally ending had appealed. He’d wanted to show her the galaxy then… that was how they were supposed to be. Not whatever was happening right now.

“I'm not taking Omega anywhere near Raxus.” Hunter said firmly. 

Echo nodded to the sergeant. “Raxus is no place for Shiani either. She’s a civilian.”

Cid shrugged. “Leave them here then. I'll keep an eye on Tiny and Suckers.”

Omega set up a loud protest. Shiani just looked at Echo with big eyes. “You’re leaving me here?”

“It’s better this way. Tech’s not on his game, and he’ll be worse with you around right now. It could be dangerous distraction.” The corporal patted her head fondly, brotherly affection she’d missed for a long time.

She headbutted his hand lightly. “You’ll make sure he comes back safe, right?” She didn’t like being left, but she had to admit that Echo had a point. If Tech was distracted, he could get hurt. She’d rather be by herself for a while than anything happen to him. Especially if the last conversation they had was them yelling at each other. 

Echo nodded. “You have my word. And I’ll see if I can talk to him for you, too.”

“We all will.” Wrecker ruffled Shiani’s head lightly, and Hunter gave her a nod.

They turned and walked out, leaving Omega and Shiani both looking deflated. They retreated to a booth in the corner. 

“I hate this.” Omega said sadly. “We're a part of the squad. We shouldn't be left behind.”

“You heard Echo. I’m a distraction, and you’re still a baby. They’re protecting you.” Shiani patted her hand. “If you were a siren, you’d still be too little to be allowed on hunts.”

“Well how do I learn if I'm not allowed to try?” Omega grumbled. 

The siren pondered thoughtfully. “When siren babies want to prove they’re ready to learn to hunt, they have to prove they can handle simpler problems at home. Prove they are responsible.”

Omega frowned. They had a lot of problems, but if the grown men couldn't figure them out how was she supposed to? She looked to Shiani, who’s loyalty and devotion Omega admired, as the siren's pale eyes moved around the bar. “What kind of problems can I solve? None of ours are simple right now.”

Shiani nodded. “You're right, none of the Batch's problems are simple. But the biggest one is debt. We can't make any credits if Cid takes them all, and then we can't pay for new things, so Cid gives things and considers it more debt. Cycle goes round and round like a jellyfish caught in a bubble ring.” 

“But how do we pay off the debt if we can't do our own missions?” Omega kicked her feet in the booth. 

Shiani pointed at the dejarik table. “I fixed that not long ago. People come in, play, and bet credits. Sometimes, they bet big credits. Can you play dejarik?”

“Yeah… I used to play with Nala Se sometimes. It's a good strategy game.” Omega nodded. 

Shaini reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of credits Tech had insisted she keep for emergencies. “Cid’s playing now, and she's losing. Go and offer advice first. Make her trust you. Then offer to play the next round, and bet this.” She handed the credits to Omega. “Once you win, people will come to try to beat you. Especially because you’re little, they think it’s easy to win and they’ll bet big credits. If you win enough, you can pay debt. Then your brothers will see you’re ready to learn to hunt.” She patted Omega's hair.

Omega smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Shiani. You're the best sister.” She hugged the siren firmly around the middle and skidding out of the booth to get to Cid. Shiani sat with the weight of her words.

Sister. Shiani hadn't been anyone's sister in such a long time. Her big brother hated her, her parents disowned her, her old friends had abandoned her. All of Acopit had orders to kill her on sight, because the bright lights of Tipoca City and the yellow-lensed eyes of a clone trooper were too powerful to resist. Omega loved so quickly, she'd only known Shiani for a few months…

If sirens loved like that, I would have loved to stay on Kamino. 

Omega deserved that kind of love returned, and she loved her brothers fiercely as a pod of purrgil. She had to do her part to raise this girl too… but what could she give Omega that the men couldn't? They were strong and knew more about the surface than she did… The only life she knew was survival between the Melody and Harmony, waiting forever for a man to answer her hearts’ call. A man who seemed very determined to ignore his own hearts, for that reason. 

After about a half hour, Cid walked over to her with a grin. “Tiny is good. She's racking up credits like it's going out of style.”

“Baby Mega is very clever.” Shiani said quietly, distrustful but polite as ever. 

“You don't seem to like me too much, Suckers.” Cid sat next to her. 

“You like to capitalize. I don’t have much to give you, so I know I’m not useful. The only thing I can do is fix machines and sing, really.” Shiani shrugged. There wasn’t any point in telling Cid she thought she was as shady as the bottom of an ocean trench and less trustworthy than a sea snake. It would just lead to another argument, and she was tired of yelling. What she really wanted was to find a nice quiet corner and huddle up, waiting hopefully for Tech to come back and forgive her for whatever it was about her that had pissed him off. 

“Sing, huh? Why don't you give us a show? We've got a karaoke machine around here. I'll put up a tip jar, and anything you make we'll put towards what the boys owe me.” Cid grinned. 

There was really no way out for the siren so she let herself be hauled to the bar. “You do realize I’m not talking about popular songs, right?”

“That's fine. Just give em what you got.”

Shiani sighed and sat on the bar with the mic, watching the barflies and betting. Cid wanted them to spend money, so they needed to be happy. 

She crossed her legs and brought the mic to her mouth, and out flowed a smooth and wordless melody that had everyone in the bar carefree and relaxed. Credits were changing hands, bets placed, and drinks were poured.

She sang her hearts out, but she wished she was back in the Havoc Marauder and the quiet of Tech's company. She'd never liked being the center of attention, even as a princess. That was why she’d become the Minister of Security, so she could work out in the city without an audience… 

I miss Tech…

Tech's ever racing thoughts had been distracted all day, since they’d left Omega and Shiani on Ord Mantell. At one point, Hunter had given orders that included Omega, and Tech had found himself turning to exchange a playfully judgmental glance with the siren that Hunter had made a mistake. Halfway through, he realized he had made the same error.

The mission had been messy, rescuing the Senator and his fussy droid assistant from the hostile Empire who seemed very determined to torture everyone into compliance. They were secure down in the belly of the ship, and he was flying them back to Ord Mantell. He wanted to comm Shiani and make sure she was alright… but he wasn’t sure he could make himself look her in the eye right now. He couldn’t this morning, when they’d landed and she’d stood at the cockpit doors and quietly asked him to come out and come to the Parlor. He’d just shrunk into the pilot’s chair and waited for Wrecker and Echo to walk her out. Hunter had just spoken through the door and told him he better have access back to the cockpit by the time he came back to the ship. Which was reasonable enough, seeing as he was their leader. But now that the mission was done and he was sitting by himself, Tech knew he was about to get the big brother treatment Hunter was so famous for. And he was not looking forward to it.

Sure enough, Hunter walked into the cockpit after a few hours of flight. “... I don't like thinking he's a good person. It makes me question everything we fought for. Echo’s even madder about it.”

Tech looked up and nodded. “It is somewhat uncomfortable, yes. He was more polite than I anticipated.”

Hunter dropped into the co-pilot’s seat, looking at Tech as he alternated between checking the ship’s indicators and typing furiously on his datapad. “You know we’ve gotta talk about what happened yesterday.”

“I anticipated as much. I am… less than thrilled.” Tech sighed. 

“Well too bad.” Wrecker and Echo both walked in, the corporal leaning in the doorframe while Wrecker lounged against the back of Hunter’s chair. 

Tech groaned. “This does not need to be a squad affair.”

“Yes it does. This affects the entire squad.” Hunter nodded. “If you’re going to yell at her across the whole ship where we can all hear, then you’re going to get everyone’s opinion.”

Tech put his head in his hands. “I do not appear to have a choice, it would seem. And I did not intend to yell at her…” He’d meant what he said, but the memory of the way he’d said it still burned his throat all over again. “How angry is she?”

“She’s not.” Wrecker sighed. “Just confused and sad about it. She loves you, Tech.”

“And you clearly feel the same.” Echo waved his scomp in the air. “We’ve had this discussion, vod. Why are you doing this to both of you?”

“Because it is the only way I do not lose her!” Tech snapped. “Why am I the only one who seems to understand that?”

“Looks to me like you’re doing the opposite.” Hunter said coolly.

“I am not designed for romantic entanglements. My nature is not… I cannot give her what she deserves.” Tech rubbed his temples, frustrated. “You all have told me hundreds of times I am abrasive, blunt, and obsessive with my work. These are not traits of an ideal partner. I cannot change who I am. The logical conclusion is I would fail her as a partner. I cannot make her the priority she deserves to be. Not and keep all of us alive and the ship maintained, and try to formulate an educational plan for Omega so that she might be able to protect herself in the event something else takes her away like what just happened on Bracca.” Tech’s shoulders were tense, spine threatening to snap as he laid out everything in his over-twisted mind. “You think I do not love Shiani? I would do anything not to lose her. That is why I cannot be anything more than her friend, because it is the only thing I know I can accomplish. If I disappoint her in something more than that, she will inevitably come to resent me and leave. I cannot stand that. I realized that after Salucemi, and have done everything since then to prevent it.” 

Wrecker made a face. “You already act like you’re dating. Tech, she’s the only person in the galaxy you’d ever willingly cuddle with. You don’t even let Omega snuggle with you like the rest of us do.”

Tech shook his head. “Shiani is biologically wired to prefer physical closeness…It is a siren trait. I have grown accustomed to it.”

“You’ve known me and Wrecker since you came out the tube.” Hunter huffed. “You literally put a proximity sensor around your bunk when we were cadets so no one could touch you unexpectedly.”

“She is… softer. More careful.” Tech’s face turned red. His brothers were rough, even when they tried not to be. But being close to Shiani was always comforting, and he never ended up with an accidental elbow in his rib or his goggles knocked half off in the shuffle. 

“And apparently not opposed to those cuddles going further than that.” Wrecker rolled his eyes. “She literally told me all you ever had to do was ask. But you’re gonna mess around and she’s gonna start looking for snuggles from somebody else cause you’ve turned her down enough times.”

Tech froze, a lump in his throat at the idea of watching Shiani with someone else. Who would she pick? One of his brothers, or a stranger? He’d had his share of shore-leave flings, but most clones had. The idea of her picking up a partner on Ord Mantell, even something not serious, made him want to rip his brain out of his head and run it under cold water to prevent a short circuit. “I..” 

Echo leaned in. “I couldn’t even blame her if she did. If I chose to live in exile to save somebody’s life and they slammed a door in my face like you did last night, I’d probably be trying to find a way to get over them. When I was in the 501st, my buddy Fives told me the best way to get over one person was get under another.”

Tech’s eye twitched for a moment at the idea, ready to say something defensive, when he spotted a flaw in the argument. “Your hypothesis is flawed. Shiani was exiled against her will; she did not choose it. Therefore it had nothing to do with me.”

Echo snorted. “Not what she told me. According to her, she could have avoided exile, but she would have had to drown you on Kamino. And she refused, in order to save your life.” 

Hunter winced. “Oof. If sirens have a biological impulse for closeness, and as busy as our training was… that must have been torture for her. I thought the living in garbage part was rough.”

Tech’s breath hitched. “She… did not tell me about that.”

“She probably didn’t want you to feel guilty.” Wrecker pointed out. “But it seems pretty clear that if she was willing to leave her people for you, she’s not gonna go anywhere. Even if you guys didn’t work out as a couple, you mean a lot to her.” 

Tech rubbed his temples. “I need to process this. Is… did she say anything else I should know?”

“She said nothing had to change that you didn’t want to change.” Wrecker said quietly. ‘But you know how you pick up your arm for her to cuddle under it? You both do it without even talking anymore.”

Tech nodded. It had turned into a reflexive action, how he indicated to her that he was okay with the contact. They’d been doing it since he’d graduated from Basic, when he’d come to understand she was totally on her own. “Yes.”

“She said when she’s there, she feels like she doesn’t belong.” Wrecker shook his head. “Even though it’s her favorite place to be.” 

Tech winced. “I am not trying to hurt her.”

“We know.” Hunter sighed. “But you are. And yourself. Look, I can’t give you orders on something like this. But I think you’re doing more harm than good if your goal is not to lose her. Just saying.” He got up, and waved the other three to follow him. “And Tech?”

“Yes?”

“For what it’s worth, I think she’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to you. She’s the only one that can get you out of your own head sometimes.”

Tech was left alone with his thoughts again, and they were more complicated than they had even been the night before. When Ord Mantell came into view, he moved my muscle memory alone to get them landed safely.

Tech was still thinking when they arrived back in the bar. There was a crowd, which was unusual, and Omega was at the dejarik table with Cid in the middle of it. Shiani was seated on a corner of the bar, a mic in hand, singing a tune that had half the bar throwing money or themselves at her, and the other half betting on Omega.��

Echo snickered. “So much for laying low.”

Omega glanced up and quickly won the match she was playing. Cid grinned, claws open to take in credits when the girl jumped up and ran over to them. Shiani perked up as well and hopped off the bar, leaving the mic on the bartop as she made her way through the crowd as well. 

Omega was grinning, eager to prove herself, when Hunter fixed her with a displeased look. “I thought I told you to keep a low profile, Omega. It’s dangerous to attract this much attention!”

The little girl’s expression fell and she backed up, bumping into Shiani. The siren wrapped her arms around Omega’s shoulders, cocking her head to the side. “You should be grateful to Baby Mega. She paid off all the debt to Cid.” 

Hunter blinked. “What?” 

Omega leaned back into Shiani’s snuggle, the siren moving one clawed hand to gently pet her hair. “I thought if I could win enough money to pay Cid back, you’d see I wasn’t useless….” 

Hunter froze, thinking back to the conversation they’d all had with Tech. No wonder Shiani looked like she wanted to bite him; Omega felt alone and Shiani knew all about that feeling. After a moment, he shook his head and knelt, waving Omega over to him. She glanced up at Shiani, who opened her arms and gave her a nod. “Hunter loves you, Baby Mega.” She said softly. “Go make up.”

Omega skidded over to Hunter, who put a hand on her shoulder and tried to explain he didn’t think she was useless and was grateful for her contributions. He ended up nodding to the dejarik table and cutting her a deal; if she beat him he wouldn’t make her stay behind on missions anymore. Wrecker and Echo moved over to watch, making their own wager on who was going to win. 

Shiani smiled nodded, content with things being as they should with Omega and Hunter. She glanced at Tech, who’s eyes were fixed on his boots, and sighed before slipping outside to head back to the ship. He probably didn’t want to take their usual walk around the city to look at the lights… maybe she’d walk on her own for a little while.

Wrecker elbowed him sharply and pointed as the siren’s tentacles vanished out the door. “Go talk to her.”

Tech caught up with Shiani outside, standing under a string of paper lanterns two blocks from the bar that she liked to look at. She had her arms folded behind her back and her tentacles wound around her waist, eyes lifted up. She’d always loved lights, and he wondered how often she sat under those camp lanterns he’d stolen from their supply kits and silently made the same face she was making now while in the cave on Kamino. Had she been thinking about the life she’d saved, the one who was unknowing and ungrateful for her sacrifice? Did she ever regret it when she was especially lonely? 

“Shiani?” He murmured, catching her attention. 

Her ear fins wiggled at the sound of his voice, and she turned around. The lights left almost cartoonishly adorable sparkles in her big eyes. “Tech.” She sounded a little guarded, worried he was still upset with her. “I’m glad you came back safe.”

“Your concern is appreciated.”  He stepped up even with her and looked up at the lights. “Would you still like to walk with me? I understand if you would prefer space…”

She looked surprised. “You’re not mad at me anymore?”

“No. I owe you an apology.” He sighed. “I behaved badly. I was embarrassed, but that is no excuse to raise my voice to you, or storm off. I’m sorry for my behavior.” 

“I accept your apology.” She murmured. She wanted to try to pick up the conversation between them and see if there was any way to come to an understanding, but she didn’t want to risk the fight starting again. “And… yes. I’d like to walk.”

Tech hesitantly lifted his closest arm, and she slotted herself under it automatically. It still felt persistently like she was in someone else’s assigned seat, but she couldn’t make herself let go. They turned down the block, picking up the familiar track they always walked when they got back from a mission. Tech had charted it to pass the most street signs and city lights, for her to look at. 

Tech didn’t say much, glancing back at her face from time to time. Instead of looking at the lights like she usually did, she kept looking back at him too. He finally sighed. “You want to say something.”

“I don’t want to start another argument.” She shook her head. “I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”

“I was not mad at you, Shiani. I was… that was an uncomfortable situation, out of my control. I became overwhelmed, and took that out on you unfairly. But you were not the problem. You have never been the problem.” Tech sighed again, slowing his steps until they’d stopped in a local courtyard. They were the only ones there, which he found somewhat comforting.

“Will you explain to me what the problem is?” She murmured, and she looked so tired when she looked up at him. He wondered if she’d slept at all the night before, before she got stuck performing for Cid’s patrons. 

Tech rubbed the bridge of his nose, giving himself a mental pep talk before looking at her. “Our lives are extremely uncertain right now. At any moment, we could end up back on the run again. I am the pilot, and the one responsible for major ship repairs, reviewing plans with Hunter, managing supply manifests, and developing a curriculum to teach Omega. In short, I am picking up my job and additional duties brought on by our situation and the absence of Crosshair. At any point, I may be busy for sixteen hours straight without pause, and that is not taking into consideration my personal projects I am well known to become obsessed with for days or weeks at a time.”

Shiani nodded. “I know. I help you with some of those things.” 

“And as it is, I already cannot give you the amount of attention you deserve. That is as your friend. As a romantic partner, I would be a dismal failure.” He shook his head with a wince. “It is only logical that you would eventually resent me, and want to leave. I have said repeatedly that I do not want to lose you. That is why I did not want to tell you… what was mentioned on Bracca.”

She blinked up at him, little dotted brow furrowed and the occasional pulse of blue light down her body. He was scared, and it made her genius stupid… after so many months of wondering what was wrong with her that hadn’t been wrong with the pretty little bar girls and dancers on Coruscant, the truth came out that he felt the same way she did and was being an idiot about it. After a few moments, her expression smoothed and she shook her head. “I don’t like you deciding things for me, Tech. I didn’t like it when you decided I should leave on Salucemi, and I don’t like it now that you’ve decided how I would feel about this.” 

“It is a perfectly logical progression of emotions-” He started, but she held up her hand and ducked out from under his arm so she could face him.

“It might be for a human, I guess. But not for me. When sirens love, we can feel every beat of the other’s hearts. Two become one. Does your right hand get jealous it doesn’t hold the left one?” 

He blinked, startled, as she took both of his hands in hers seriously. “Shiani…”

“I told you I didn’t expect anything from you, and I still don’t.” She murmured. “And that all I wanted was to be beside you. I waited for months between visits just to see you on Kamino, and years to see the stars with you. I made my decision, and it’s always going to be you. So please stop trying to make different ones for me?” She squeezed his hands in three quick bursts, then let them go. “You’ll make whatever choice you make. Please don’t make it based on your assumptions, okay? I’m going to go back to the ship, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

He blinked. “Are you angry with me now?”

“No. I just think you are the smartest moron the galaxy has ever produced.” She smiled faintly. “Lucky for you, you’re pretty.” She reached up and patted his cheek fondly, then turned on her heel and walked back towards the ship with her hands back behind her back. 

Tech was left standing in the middle of the street, entirely confused and with his heart thumping hard in his throat. For a split second when she’d reached for his face, he’d thought she was going to kiss him… and he’d decided he wasn’t going to stop her if she did.

#explict #original character #clone force 99 #star wars #fanfic #tbb tech #the bad batch #song of the sea

[mad-twience]

(Random relationship headcanons under the cut)

For the most part Twilight can’t stand being around others, especially anyone who’s friends with Sunset Shimmer. She rarely takes a break from her research to have a real chance to meet anyone anyway, but the right person would end up breaking her out of her shell, and in really rare cases could even get her to give up on her magical research entirely if they distracted her from it enough.

On the other hand they could also fuel it more and I think when she finally has someone to open up to and share it with she would actually get more done since she has a habit of not taking care of herself because she gets so wrapped up in her studies that she forgets to do things like eat or sleep, which causes her to unknowingly lose focus or frustrate herself to the point where she messes things up. So if she had someone to share this with, they could actually help her with it a lot, and get her to do other things outside of science as well which would make her a lot happier overall.

I think Twilight would be extremely obsessive in a relationship but would try to keep it lowkey and hidden. She wouldn’t really want her partner to spend time with anyone but her and she would get jealous easily, but with the right person she could learn to overcome that.

(TW: yandere type behavior is in the next paragraph, and very very slight NSFW mention in the one after)

I also think with the wrong person she has the potential to become overwhelmingly obsessive and manipulative, almost yandere-like complete with stalking and in extreme cases kidnapping them and keeping them captive. Especially if she were to finally open up to someone about exactly what type of research she really does and they reject her for it. I think this potential outcome would really only happen with a crush who doesn’t return Twilight’s feelings, and would actually be a pretty rare possibility since it’s hard for her to develop romantic feelings for anyone and even harder for her to trust anyone enough to let them in. She wouldn’t tell anyone about her real studies unless she was sure they could handle it and accept it.

And lastly I think Twilight would actually be biromantic asexual, she isn’t interested in sex and doesn’t really see the appeal. She may willingly do it anyway if it’s something her partner is interested in but for herself she just doesn’t find it enjoyable in the slightest.

And that’s all I got for now lmao, sorry if this is all over the place it’s 6am and I haven’t slept yet other than a nap I had earlier.

#headcanons #ooc #{Main}

[ghostlight-express]

Ns4t ramble about the polycule's tendencies regarding having sex at work. Some explicit language but not explicitly describing their actions, just that they do "do the do".

So I subscribe to the idea of Emmet being hella horny most of the time & not being afraid of being caught fucking on the subway.

Rena absolutely will NOT fuck Emmet while one or both of them are on the clock. If they're both on a lunch break she *might* consider a quickie in the office bathroom. Rena takes her job seriously & knows that Emmet does NOT need encouragement to fuck in public on the clock.

Ingo on the other hand? Rena still won't have sex with him if she's on the clock, but if she's on break or has the day off, she's not above tempting Ingo. He overworks himself & Rena knows that whatever work gets put off while they fuck will get done anyway (plus Ingo doesn't make a habit of fucking at work). Emmet finds it unfair that Rena will fuck Ingo in the office while he's on the clock but refuses to do the same with him. She finds his pouting over it adorable, plus she likes the challenge of convincing Ingo to set aside a few minutes for her. She's even gone as far as tempting him on the subway (I've reblogged a post about this before, where Rena borrows Sol's team to battle her way through the single line while wearing an outfit she KNOWS will break down Ingo's resolve).

Sol has a hard time saying no to Emmet. Tbh she has a hard time saying no to anyone, really. Even though her anxiety tells her that fucking on the subway is a REALLY bad idea, she does secretly like the adrenaline rush at just the idea that they might get caught, and besides, the only person they'll really get in trouble with is Ingo, so what's the harm?

Sol won't go out of her way to tempt the twins or Rena outside of the house though, even if she's not opposed to being the temptee lol so she & Ingo have never fucked outside of the house.

Sol & Rena have definitely fucked in the boys' office though. Rena proposed the idea, reasoning that it would be fun to see the twins' reactions if they get caught. (They did not get caught in the act, but the twins came back to the office not long after the girls finished & Emmet IMMEDIATELY knew. Ingo felt like they were acting very suspicious but once he saw the way Emmet grinned he figured it out. Rena suggested that she and Sol go home so as to not further distract the boys, & while Emmet tried to convince them to stay Ingo put his foot down. When the boys got home that night though, Rena & Sol were in for a looooong night.)

After Rena quits & Sol becomes a Subway Boss, fucking in the office becomes a more common occurrence (much to the depot agents' dismay).

On a slightly different note, I haven't decided on if they end up having kids. I project onto Sol and Rena a LOT (to the point where they are kinda self inserts, just with different aspects of myself dialed to different levels), and I personally am not interested at all in having children, however I do also subscribe to the idea that Emmet and Ingo (ESPECIALLY Ingo) want families of their own.

Although, after Hisui, Rena becomes more confident in herself. She's learned that she can in fact take care of pokemon. Maybe, with the knowledge that she would not be alone in raising a child, she'd have both the twins and Sol to help & support, she'd warm up to the idea.

And maybe after Rena & Ingo have a child, Sol also warms up to the idea, although she is still terrified of the idea of giving birth so she and Emmet decide to adopt.

#ramble #rena #sol #rena/ingo #sol/emmet #rena/ingo/sol/emmet #rena/sol #rena/emmet #ns4t mention

[castlevader]

Can I request a Bucky fic where the AC is out and they have to find a way to pass the time until it can get fixed? You could do fluffy where they’re playing games or something or smutty where Bucky has some other ideas 👀 I live in california and it’s 115 today :’)

hi! as always, thank you so much for your request, i see what you did here 👀 what about a bit of both? i’m really sorry it took me so long! i was so insecure about it you have no idea, i hope it doesn’t suck or whatever…. anyway, 115 ?! omg, stay hydrated and be careful! i’d probably hug my AC and never let it go tbh, i can’t stand hot summer days

WARNINGS: smut 18+, fingering, making out, thigh riding, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe out there!), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, bucky is a tease, smut & fluff because why not, sorry for possible typos i was too lazy to read it and check 👉🏼👈🏼

WORD COUNT: 1792

IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED: check this

READ ME! english is not my first language, sorry for any possible error. please be kind!

CREDITS GIF HERE

“What does it mean ‘it doesn’t work’?” You gave Bucky a worried look, hoping you misheard what he just said.

“Doll, the air conditioner doesn’t work. That’s it.” He nervously chuckled, trying to it cool. Both of you were feeling hot and you suggested to turn it on, but today life was giving you a hard time, and the AC stopped working.

It was hotter than any other day, you showered like two times in two hours and a half? Bucky did the same, probably.

“Look, I can call someone and see what we can do.” He grabbed his phone from the coffee table and you just sank more onto the couch. “Please, anything.” You huffed.

You closed your eyes, trying to calm down. You could hear Bucky talking into the phone but were too distracted to focus on his exact words. Once he finished, he came back and sat on the couch, sighing.

“I have a bad news and a good news.” He said, recalling your attention. “Bad first.” You muttered, ready to listen but keeping your eyes closed. “The bad news is that we have to wait till this evening, the good one is that it won’t take too much time to fix it.”

“Are you serious?! Bucky, it’s fucking ten in the morning.” You widened your eyes and look at him, checking if he was serious. Of course he was. “Baby, relax. We just need to pass the time.” He offered a smile and you simply nodded, fighting the urge to lay down on the floor for some relief. You started feeling frustrated and Bucky being this calm wasn’t helping. How could he be so collective when outside seemed like everything was melting and ready to turn into literally fire.

“Listen, we can play some games. What do you think of Mario Kart maybe? I love your competitiveness.” He got closer and left some kisses on your heated cheek. “Mmh, alright. Maybe a round or two.” You got up and grabbed the controllers, then sitting again on the couch after giving one to Bucky.

You two ended up playing more than two rounds, but only because you were loosing and you really wanted to beat his ass at the game.

“Accept it, you’re just fooling yourself.” He said laughing when you sat on the floor muttering ‘I can play better from here’.

The funny thing was, Bucky won again and you just got up and hit his chest with your controller. “Fuck you, Barnes.” You pointed a finger at him and then stormed into your room.

You sank yourself onto the mattress and moaned when you felt it was colder than the couch downstairs. You closed your eyes, positioning yourself onto your stomach.

“I’m sorry, I guess I just learned how to play properly.” Bucky entered your room and you mumbled something, without actually moving.

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed and sighed lightly, closing his eyes for a moment, then an idea popped up in his head and turned to look at you. His face wore a wicked smile, but you were completely oblivious.

His metal hand started caressing your bare leg, slowly moving up and down, he was studying your reaction. You just shivered but enjoyed the coldness of his hand.

“You seem tensed.” His voice got low and you tensed for real now. You turned around and looked at his beautiful face, his eyes were trailing over your hot body. You noticed after him your nipples poking through your tank top, Bucky licked his lips and then locked his eyes on yours. You were probably blushing, the room felt much hotter than before.

“Wanna try something to relieve your stress?” He smirked and you bit your lip, you slowly took his hand and placed it on your clothed stomach, you could feel the coldness of his prosthetic through the fabric of your clothes.

“Is that a yes?” He whispered, slowly caressing you. Your hand was still holding his, following his movements. “Show me what you have in mind.” You sat beside him and then moved to position yourself onto his lap.

Bucky simply smiled, then cupped your cheeks and leaned into you, latching your lips together. The kiss quickly grew hotter, you circled his neck with your arms to keep Bucky close to you and he grabbed your hips and settled you onto one of his leg, then slowly started moving it between your thighs.

You groaned into his mouth, leaning your forehead on his. He smirked and grabbed your ass cheek with his flesh hand, holding you firmly. “Show me how desperate you are now.” He whispered against your parted lips.

You shivered, feeling a knot forming into your belly. You started grinding onto his thigh, covered by his black shorts. He flexed his leg, adding some stimulation. You grew wetter by any seconds now, the sensation was heaven, your swollen clit was pulsing making you moan out loud. “Come on, make a mess on my thigh. I know you wanna cum so bad.” His lips were near your ear, his words going straight to your core and you felt your body setting on fire.

You grabbed his shoulders tight, grinding hard on him. You jolted your hips, feeling your wetness ruining your panties and your shorts.

“Bucky…” You moaned against his cheek, moving desperately your hips to reach your orgasm. “Yeah, just like that.” He grunted, grabbing your hips harshly to guide your movements. You finally reached your peak, a strong wave of pleasure washed over you.

Bucky kept his eyes focused on you, giving you some time to recover. Your heart was beating faster, you were sure he could feel it clearly. He laid you down on the mattress and took some time to kiss you all over your face and down your neck.

“Baby, I really need you.” You whispered, looking at him. He smiled against your skin and quickly kneeled between your legs. His hands caressed your hips before removing your tank top, exposing your chest, and then pulled down both your shorts and you panties, tossing them away on the floor.

Bucky leaned down and closed his lips around one of your hard nipple, sucking and licking. His big hands parted your legs further and you shivered when his left hand brushed distractedly against your heated center. You bucked up your hips, silently asking him to touch you there.

“You’re so needy.” He muttered against your skin, making you moan. He finally started rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit with his flesh thumb, you arched your back giving in into the pleasure. His mouth moved to your other breast and gave it the same treatment.

“Oh, Buck–please!” You grabbed his wrist, holding him tight. “Tell me what you want, baby.” He slowed down his movements, you pushed his hand towards your wet hole, giving him a hint. “You want my fingers?” You chewed on your cheek and gave him a quick look, only to find him smiling innocently.

“I hate you.” You muttered, letting go of his wrist. “Oh really?” He licked his lips and slowly used his fingertips to spread your wetness around, wetting his fingers. Two of his fingers slipped inside, Bucky didn’t waited and quickly moved them, hitting your sweet spot. You rolled your eyes, moaning his name.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful… making a mess of my hand.” His voice made you shiver, your legs were slightly shaking. You were getting close to your second orgasm quick, his other hand reached to rub your clit harshly. “Bucky, I’m close…” You moaned, grabbing his short hair desperately. “Cream my fingers, c’mon doll.” He licked his lips, Bucky kissed your sweaty forehead and your cheeks, moving his fingers fast and adding the right pressure on your throbbing clit.

“Oh, god!” You pushed your hips against his hands, shaking under his body. “Give it to me, now.” He grunted against your skin, pinching your clit.

When your second orgasm hit you, quickly you pushed his hands away feeling overstimulated. Your legs were shaking and it seemed like your heart was gonna leave your body. The room was much hotter than before and it was all his fault.

“You’re so fucking hot, you have no idea.” Bucky pulled you into a messy kiss, all teeth and tongue. Both of you moaned into the kiss, before he raised himself and undressed himself, his eyes never leaving your beautiful body. “What… Bucky, wait, I can’t.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and gave him a pleading look. “You can’t?” He mocked, settling again between your legs.

Bucky gave himself a few pumps, a shaky breath left his lips. “Oh, but I know that you can, doll.” He ran his hard cock between your folds, collecting your moisture, and finally he slipped inside of you, quickly bottoming out.

Both of you groaned at the sensation, your walls squeezed him and before moving Bucky grabbed your hands and held them beside your head. You squeezed your eyes shut. His lips brushed against yours, slightly parted. “You okay?” He said, waiting for a response. “Yeah…” You panted, nodding. “Good girl.” He kissed your nose and after that he started moving, finding the right rhythm.

Bucky loved watching your face, you squeezed his hands when he hit that spot inside of you that made you curl your toes. “Don’t stop!” You pushed your hips towards him, moaning louder.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling him moving impossibly further. Bucky alternated quick thrusts with slow and hard ones. You loved hearing him muttering curses under his breath, holding you under his body.

“You almost there?” He let go of one of your hand and cupped your breast to squeeze you gently, he rolled his hips letting your clit brush against his pelvis. “Yes, fuck!” You arched your back, you moved your free hand into his hair, pulling it.

He lowered his hand between your legs and rubbed quick circles into your clit to add stimulation. “Bucky, I… shit, don’t stop!” You panted, feeling the familiar knot forming into your belly. “You gonna cum for me? Gonna give me another one?” He grunted, closing his eyes at the feeling of your walls gripping his sensitive cock.

Another two or three hard thrusts and you reached your climax, Bucky cummed right after you, filling you up with his load. You heard him cursing against the skin of your neck, slowing down his movements.

“You did so good for me, doll.�� He lazily kissed your jaw, still holding your hand. “This room is hotter than hell.” You muttered, making him giggle. “I see how much disappointed you are.” He mocked you before kissing your lips.

✿.｡.:*TAGLIST*.:｡.✿

@thesneakylittleminx @xbeauxny @weinersolider @golden-hoax @iwannabekilledtwice

#request #leia writing #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #soft bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #mcu

[hansolmates]

remote learning (m)

summary; working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two. pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, slightly insecure mc, this is pure FILTH—use of a remote controlled vibrator, do not and i repeat DO NOT try foreplay during a zoom call in the event u get fired im not responsible, phone sex, jungkook’s a meanie in control, cum eating, doggy, and topping it off with some sweet missionary bc jk has purty eyes, unprotected (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 5.7k a/n; this fic manifested bc of work. and i!! am!! frustrated!! i think we all need a lil jk relief so here it goes! as always ty to @chillingtae​ / @eerieedits​ for this FANTASTIC fic banner, please go check vivi out if u have taste okok part 2: distance learning drabbles; 01

if u like this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share💕💕💕💕

“Tomorrow morning, same time at 9AM. Remember to have your reports alphabetized and itemized,” your supervisor says, but the only thing you can focus on is the abnormal amount of bonsai plants in his living room. 

“Alright now it’s time for the union to talk COVID protocol,” you frown when Mr. Kim moves ownership of the Zoom call to your union rep, who pulls up a Powerpoint. You feel your eyes burn at the sight: an itinerary containing over thirty-eight slides. 

“For fuck’s sake—” 

You so desperately want to turn off the camera and flop in your bed. Since working remotely you haven’t been operating in the most ideal of workspaces. You live in a one-room apartment with a communal kitchen downstairs, so you really only have four square meters to stretch your limbs around between breaks. You’ve pushed your bed aside and shoved an office chair between the bed and the wall, leaving you to squirm between ten centimeters of space. You have no desk because well, the little rectangle space is prioritized for your portable stove and meals. 

The meeting drones on for another hour, until your brain melts to liquid and your limbs feel like Jell-O. Furthering your anxiety as they talk about protocol that never ends up happening, delays that continue to pile up, and the anger that’s been bubbling between the higher ups and little goldfish employees like you. 

When you finally shut off the camera and fling your laptop under the bed, you still feel unsettled. Probably because your work life and home life have merged together, and it’s hard for you to separate work and pleasure. 

Speaking of pleasure. 

Your hand blindly reaches under your bed, looking for the pretty pink oval you purchased last week. Cleaned and ready to use, the little remote-controlled vibrator sits plainly in your palm. 

Needless to stay you’ve been in a bit of a dry spot these past few months. With a fear to go out and meet someone new, you’ve been left with yourself and your fantasies. That’s fine, but lately your old vibrator isn’t cutting it. It’s unfortunate, you think you’re messing up your libido by buying toy after toy, but you’re horny and lonely. 

Linking your phone’s app to the remote, you ignore the messages that have been beeping your feed since early morning. 

[11:21] Jeon: let’s do lunch! 

[11:23] Jeon: hehe i feel like i belong in mean girls. Do lunch💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️

[2:20] Jeon: u loozer. Come eat dinner with us upstairs @6

[2:24] Jeon: dropping off a snack for u 

Another element of feeling horny and lonely? Jeon Jungkook. 

You two shouldn’t have even met each other. You live off crumbs on the first floor while he and his roommates are livin’ it up on top in the penthouse. One day a few months ago he crashed into you while working out, having run up and down the whole flight of stairs at least three times before deciding to collapse on you between the second and first floor. 

Despite the black mask that hugged his sharp jawline, you had felt nothing but attractiveness ooze off of him. Under his hoodie was nothing but curved muscle. He smelled so soft and sweet despite the fact that he was damp with sweat. 

The rest is history. After that day he seemed to show up everywhere, jogging more prominently on your floor and doing exercises at your level’s gym. He says he likes you, likes your company. He’s wormed his way intermittently, whether he’s seeing you struggle with an armful of groceries or when he hears you screaming over an Among Us match (according to Jungkook, the walls are thinner on the bottom floors.) 

The idea of Jungkook doting on you doubly frustrates you. He seemingly appears as the perfect man, unaffected by the stresses of the world. Jungkook’s job lets him work from home anyway, and he definitely had enough room in the penthouse for his own office. He works out, probably has a girlfriend and enough friends for you to gradually phase out of this weird neighbor interest. 

So you ignore his seemingly harmless messages, focusing on getting the settings right on the vibrator. You feel your pussy jolt a little in excitement, watching the silver and pearl pink oval shake in your grasp. You smile a bit to yourself, immediately finding your iPad for your favorite videos and some pillows to support your back. 

Half an hour later however, that excitement soon goes sour. 

“Fuck,” you bite your lip, frustrated tears streaming down your face, “fuck fuck fuck!” 

This isn’t a set of explicatives out of pleasure, unfortunately. 

No matter what you do, you won’t cum. You can’t cum. Barely wet, hardly a drop glossing your folds. You don’t even want to bother getting out the lube at this point because you are so disappointed. 

The vibrator is going at the highest setting, one that your neighbors can probably hear if they were home at this time of the day. You cease to care at this point, because the job is undone because you haven’t come undone. 

You don’t know why this is happening. Maybe it’s because you’ve had the liberty to touch yourself in complete silence, now that your neighbors have been confined to their homes indefinitely. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve relied only on your touch, that your body is tired of the monotony and needs more.

You bang the heels of your feet against your flimsy mattress, feeling whiny and utterly dissatisfied. Pulling the vibrator from your clit, you glare at the infuriating toy.

“You’re supposed to be helping me out of my dry spell,” you chastise, throwing the toy across the bed, sliding onto the carpet, “I get you’re not Jeon’s dick, but you gotta help a sister out.” 

With a sigh, you fall into a bout of exhaustion. Not from a round of orgasms, but from the week’s stress and no way to let it out. 

You wake up bleary and disoriented, practically melding through the mattress. The sky is pink and blue, washed in a sea of corals and purples. It comes from the incessant banging. 

“Stop it,” you whine more to yourself than whoever dares to disturb your sleep, pulling up your panties and a pair of navy dolphin-trim shorts. “Whoever you are I’m comin’ so stop!” 

Swinging the door open in two strides you’re met with a chipper Jeon Jungkook; looking all cute and sweet in his big hoodie and smelling like a rosebud. 

“It’s 6:30,” he narrows his eyes playfully at you, “dinner’s in the oven.” 

“You left your oven on,” you deadpan, turning around to grimace at the mess that’s your one-room apartment. 

“Yes, so we have exactly ten minutes before my kitchen explodes in flames,” Jungkook chirps, closing the door behind you. 

You don’t even bother to tell him to excuse the mess, ignore the pile of bras hanging on your vanity and the unpacked groceries that sit at the edge of your mini-fridge. It’s far too late to salvage your dignity and Jungkook’s too damn polite to call you out on your state of slob. Although, as you pull out a bottle of wine tucked in the back of your fridge you blurt, “I can hear your fingers tingling to clean up my mess.” 

When you turn around Jungkook stuffs his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, supposedly to stop himself from cleaning up. With a pout he says, “Can’t help it, Jimin says I’m currently manifesting a strong display of Virgo energy this month. Whatever that means.” 

Jabbing your feet in a pair of slides you follow Jungkook out the door. The hallways are quiet and barren, yet the silence isn’t suffocating as you two pile into the elevator. Jungkook opens the keypad underneath the regular boring buttons, revealing a sleek little set of light-up buttons that have the code to the penthouse. Faaaannnnccy. 

“Tryna look?” he jokes, cupping his hands to block your vision. 

You scoff, “I’m sure it’s something easy like 0000.” 

“You’re wrong. It’s 1234,” he replies cheekily. 

The door dings open and you’re met with yet another door. Jungkook presses his thumb to the biometric scanner, and a pleasant ringer tings in response. 

The penthouse smells like a mix of tonight’s dinner, savory, combined with a cinnamon apple candle. Jungkook is a fan of scented candles, ever since he got a whiff of your lavender vanilla burner. 

“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, more out of your own anxiousness than anything. Taehyung’s  your buffer, the hyper roommate being someone to distract you from Jungkook’s incessant aura. 

“Dunno,” he shrugs, flicking on the oven light to peer inside. You see the telltale signs of a mean lasagna, the shredded cheese on top crisping to a delicious-looking golden brown, “anyway, you’re my friend first.” 

As grotesque as it sounds, Jungkook always finds his way to worm his way under your skin and find homage there. “Possessive much?” you quirk a brow, folding your arms over your chest even though there’s nothing to hide. 

“What can I say,” Jungkook’s legs stretch out as he squats down to your level, “I really fell for you.” 

“Gross,” you try to convince yourself, ignoring the thudding in your chest, “you technically fell on me, weirdo.” 

Dinner is a quick affair. He cuts slices of lasagna and brings it to the couch, where you’re pouring glasses of wine in crystal glasses. They’re so clean and shiny you can see your reflection in the gold liquid. You grimace at the bottle, normally this would be poured in a mug or your sippy cup, tonight your liquid’s getting a high-end pour. 

You two pull up an old anime to fill up the room, but most of it is spent in playful banter. Jungkook prattles on about his day, showing you all the cool updates he’s achieved during work. An app developer. A very on-brand, lucrative job for him. You love your job but it isn’t nearly as exciting as Jungkook’s, so you just let yourself be supportive and ask questions when needed. 

When the subject of you comes up, you shake your head and stuff your face with another cut of al dente pasta.

“Not interestin’ Jeon,” you mumble, groaning at how delicious his cooking is. What can’t he do? “Is this oregano? Is the secret ingredient toasted oregano—” 

“You’re deflecting.” 

Your shoulders slump, “I’m not very interesting, I tell you everything I do during the week and nothing has changed since March.” 

“Oh, not everything,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. You furrow your brows as his hands stuff themselves in his hoodie pocket. Is he upset you won’t tell him about your work stress? “And you’re very interesting, I’ll have you know.” 

“Yeah?” a small smile tugs on your lips. You sink further into his cottonball of a couch, feeling utterly soft and meldable at his words.

“Very,” Jungkook gets up from the couch, looking down at you, “want something sweet?” 

The prospect of dessert has you excited. Jungkook really is the perfect man, so kind and knows exactly when you’re craving something for your sweet tooth. You move to get up, only for you to sink further between the two large cushions of the loveseat. “Help me, ’m stuck,” you pout.

Jungkook giggles, and holds out his palm, “Hand,” he says simply.

You immediately reach for his larger palm, and you gasp when you feel something cold and soft touch your palm. As if you’ve been burned, you tug your hand back. But Jungkook’s hand is massive, the large ink-painted palm curling around your own, and it’s almost painful the way he clutches your hand so fiercely. 

When he’s sure you’re not going to drop it, he releases your hand. 

Nestled in your palm, is the new vibrator you left on the carpet this afternoon.

“Jeon,” you laugh tonelessly, hating the way Jungkook’s neutral expression mocks you, “you found my USB? Thanks, I know—” 

“Know that you’re having a hard time coming?” Carefully extracting your plate from your lap, he places it on the coffee table before Jungkook cages you between the couch. You shrink further into the plush seat, “I tried being a good neighbor, but you didn’t answer my texts. I heard you when I tried dropping off some snacks before dinner. Didn’t know you were into toys.” 

“Oh, c’mon Jeon. It’s 2020 and we’re confined,” well, in this scenario you’re confined, “everyone has a sex toy.” 

“Hm, I don’t have one,” Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, pretending to be deep in thought, “so, can you be my toy?” 

Fuck. 

It’s then that you feel the tell-tale signs of arousal. Your eyes widen, innocently surprised at the fact that Jeon Jungkook contained so much power in so few words. You snap your legs shut immediately, sealing any possibility of you dripping down your panties. 

“I heard how disappointed you were, doll,” his arms have no problems as he bends down so he’s eye-level with your crotch, “it was pathetic, really. You couldn’t even cum on your own? You need someone to help you?” 

“N-no,” you cross your arms defensively, frowning, “you–you’re being mean, Jeon.”

“And what, you’re gonna cry about it?” Jungkook smirks, now sitting on his knees. His hands run over the velvety fabric of the couch, making a beeline for your thighs. Gooseflesh rises to the surface, and he immediately presses down to iron out the little bumps that travel across your skin, “I do wanna make you cry, but not because you can’t cum. You’ll cry because of how good I’m gonna make you feel.” 

You gape, clutching the vibrator in your hand. 

A little bit of your sweet, cute Jungkook resurfaces, softening when he notices your lack of response, “If you’ll let me, of course.” 

You finally drag the words from your throat, “I-it’s been a long time since I’ve… been with someone.” 

He tilts his head, “Same here. I just figured we could break that spell together.” 

What are you going to say? No? A dishonor to your sexuality, that would be. Jungkook’s offering himself up on a silver platter, and even though you do wish it was a little more you’ll take the sex. 

You nod, forgetting to speak again. Jungkook chuckles. 

“I want to hear you say it, doll.” 

Doll. Like you’re his little fucktoy, malleable and bendable to all his whims. Fuck, why is that so hot to you? “Yes, I want to have sex with you,” you declare, your voice sounding more breathy than confident, “a-and, you can be mean. If you want.” 

His thumbs press little light indents in your skin, over and over as if fascinated by the way your skin is so soft and gummy in his grip. “Okay,” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to pull out his phone, jabbing a few things that you don’t see, “let’s do a little test drive, then.” 

In seconds, the little egg vibrates in your touch. He puts it on the lowest setting, a soft buzz echoing in the large living room, then at a bruising pace that forces you to curl your fingers around it otherwise it’d fall. Your eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s, who’s focusing entirely on the way the pink and silver egg moves, dilated in interest. 

“Fuck, and you thought this thing was broken?” he asks, taking it out of your palm and turning off the app. 

“Maybe I’m the broken one,” you admit softly, wringing your shirt. 

Silence seeps. Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed as if he’s annoyed. “Don’t ever say that,” when you don’t respond, he grabs your chin, and you gasp when he forces you to look at him, “you’re not broken, doll. Everyone’s body is different, and we’re going to discover yours together. Got it?” 

“Y-yes,” you reply immediately, mesmerized by his seriousness. 

“Good,” he slaps the vibrator back in your palm, “and in case you’re wondering, this goes inside.” 

“I know how it works,” you scowl, “but won’t you show me, just in case?” 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Jungkook gets up for good, piling the dishes in his arms and walking to the sink. You immediately miss his warmth, “but I think patience is a virtue. I have a developer meeting with some clients in America a little bit, actually. So just wait for my call, yeah?” 

You frown, looking down at the vibrator in your hands. How much longer would you have to wait? 

It happens at exactly three in the afternoon the next day, at the start of your staff meeting. You’re so tired of the same information being thrown back and forth, coupled with Brian and Jae having to fight over some mundane subject in the itinerary that no one cares about. For goodness sake, it’s Friday! What else would you possibly need to be meeting about? 

You’re wearing a button-down dress shirt on top, no pants on the bottom. Your bare feet slap against the hardwood floor, antsy. It’s been a long day at work and your back hurts, you’re half tempted to dip out of this meeting and hope no one notices. 

Your phone buzzes on your bed, and you blanch. 

[3:01] Jeon: thanks for waiting, doll. It’s time 

[3:01] Jeon: put it in

Shamelessly, your vibrator sits next to your phone, cleaned and ready to go. 

[3:02] Jeon: need help? Answer my call

Making sure that your Zoom call is muted, you quickly answer the incoming phone call. Jungkook and you say nothing at first, waiting. The phone just ticks with the amount of time passing, one minute, two minutes, and so on. 

Mr. Kim drones unknowingly, “So when we do return to live instruction, expect a strict process when returning. PPE must be enforced so our response team will—” 

“How wet were you last night when you went home?” Jungkook asks languidly, speaking over your boss’ voice. 

Your eyes widen, flickering back and forth between the phone and the camera displaying Mr. Kim’s boring speech. 

“Doll, are you hard of hearing?” 

“N-no,” your lips barely move, eyes glued to the camera and plastering an expressionless face, “I heard you.” 

“Then give me an answer,” he says patiently, “how wet were you?” 

“Very wet.”

“Little more detail.” 

“Soaking wet,” you flush, thankful that your work laptop can only stream in 360p. “I haven’t gotten that wet in such—such a long time. My pussy was practically clinging to my underwear when I washed up that night.” 

A heady, heavy groan resonates through your phone. You feel that voice straight into your panties, jolting the nerves awake. 

“Fuck, you have a way with words, don’t you?” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “c’mon, touch yourself for me. Swirl your fingers around your clit, slowly.” 

It takes a second for you to position yourself, spreading your legs in a way that your coworkers don’t question why you’re moving so much. A quick scan over all the tired faces says that you’re okay. Shyly, you press your fingers against your clit, doing as he says. 

“Oh,” you say more to yourself than him, feeling the wetness already coating your fingers. This is earlier than usual. 

“What?” 

“I’m already wet,” you say, amazed, “I haven’t gotten wet this quickly in a long time.” 

He scoffs, “If you’re so wet now, shove it in.” 

You frown. You did tell him to be mean. But the idea of him telling you what to do, giving you all the porn-worthy experiences to accomplish has you relenting. Discreetly grabbing the egg from the bed, you bring it down to your panties. Swirling the cold metal around your clit, you coat it in your juices. 

It’s still a little too early to be putting anything in, but you can take it. Slowly relaxing, you slip the little egg in your pussy, wiggling it a little to make sure it’s secure. It’s a strange sort of pressure, and it pokes against your clit from the inside, but you enjoy the stretch. 

“It’s in,” you reply softly. 

“Good.” 

You wait. You listen to Jae make yet another speech about the importance of masks and gloves, and then Brian has to interject and say that gloves are literally useless because they spread germs around no matter what. Even though everyone else is muted, you can practically feel the misery seeping through the screen. For a second you almost forget about Jungkook on the line. Why isn’t Mr. Kim stopping them? This is the thin line stopping you from the weekend, unbelievable! 

“Eep!” you jolt in your cheap seat, the egg buzzing in your pussy. Your hands fly out, gripping the edges of your computer. 

It hits different when Jungkook is in control. Knowing that with a flick of his thumb he can have you careening, whining for more or less depending on how hard he wants you go. Your folds hug the egg, nestling it a fleshy grip as it brushes against your clit the more you squirm. 

“You look so pretty, trying so hard to hold in your moans,” Jungkook says wondrously from the other line. 

“W-what?” you frown, “you can see me?” 

And immediately, you go to your trackpad to fish between the hundred-and-one employees also in this call. At the very end, you see a very simple name with no mic or camera: Jeon JK. He’s here. 

“Worked in IT, doll. Know a thing or two,” he says, “now, tell me. What are you thinking about right now?” 

“Y-you,” you mumble shyly. 

“So,” Mr. Kim finally ends that part of the meeting, thank goodness, “what’s everyone’s plans this weekend? I’m going apple picking with a couple of my friends from college. Hoseok is a bright bean who loves to take long walks—”

What the hell. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat, hyperaware that Jungkook’s watching your every move. You make glossy, stubborn eyes at the camera, trying not to move when he jacks up the vibrator to a higher setting. 

Jae’s of course the next employee to unmute his microphone, “Well, me and the bae are going house hunting…” 

“Fuck!” you cry, moving the computer to the left so you can pretend you’re picking up something. But in fact you're leaning your head against your mattress, frustrated. “I don’t fucking care about your weekend plans, Jae! Shut the fuck up! You wanna know my weekend plans?” Jungkook’s laughing at you from the other line, but it only spurs you on, “my plans are fucking my super hot neighbor! He’s a hundred times more interesting than you and he’s going to make me come a hundred times this weekend—oh fuck!” 

Your fingers latch onto your panties, drawing random squiggles and letters between the fabric. You’re damp, soaked to the core. You need some sort of friction, a reprieve from this hellish week.

“You flatter me, doll,” Jungkook is definitely grinning through the phone, you can practically hear his shit-eating grin, “I think you deserve a reward. As soon as you put the camera back on your pretty face.” 

Quickly, you sit up to put the camera on you again. Once again, the employees are in a daze, listening to whatever the next person gabs about their weekend. Even though you can’t really see it, you’re sure Jungkook has a 1080p camera upstairs that shows off your blotchy face. You moan a little bit, lips closed as the egg buzzes against your pussy lips. 

“You’re so cute, doll,” Jungkook praises, “you look so professional, holding it in. What could I do to make you unravel? Hm, what if you imagined the taste of my cock on your lips? Fuck, I’d love to slap your cute little face with my cock, baby doll–”

“y/n?” Mr. Kim calls your name, and you freeze, “what about you? Any plans this weekend?” 

Jungkook doesn’t sound angry that your boss has inadvertently cut him off. “Answer him, doll. Be a good little employee.” 

Like a zombie, you move towards the unmute button. “I–I uh,” you shake your head, trying to formulate a coherent response, “I’m going on a date this weekend.” 

Jungkook jacks up the vibrator to high, and your legs are shaking. 

“Awh, a date!” Mr. Park unmutes himself, practically shoving the camera in his face, “how much do you like the lucky lad or lady?” 

“I like him uh—ah—” you pretend to think, covering a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you feel your orgasm fast approaching, “I like him a lot!” you finally blurt, “I’m, uh, really excited to see him.” 

“Best of luck to you,” Mr. Kim says brightly, “so Jimin, any news on those investors you had dinner with this weekend? I heard a lot of positive things…”

You immediately mute your mic, and pretend to lag as you fumble around with the camera. Shoving the laptop to the side once more you groan into your sheets, “Fuck—fuck yes—” you moan, shaking your head as you dip your fingers into your panties. The vibrator still continues at its bruising pace, spurring you to a high you haven’t peaked to in months.

“Good job,” Jungkook says simply, “could barely notice that you have a little helper fiddling around your dripping pussy.”

“J-Jeon,” you cry, “I’m, ’m gonna cum.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook eggs you on, “you’re gonna cum around that cute little vibrator? Gonna soak it in your juices?” 

“W-wish it was your cock I was soaking,” you whisper truthfully, letting your orgasm take you at the thought. Your folds flutter around the vibrator, bringing you to a level of sensitivity you’ve only dreamt of, “Ah, yes, Jeon. It feels s-so good!” 

“Yes baby,” Jungkook groans through the line, “feels good, huh?” 

Mr. Kim interrupts for the last time, “And with that, I think our meeting is adjourned. Have a wonderful weekend! Stay safe and—” 

You slam the laptop shut, grabbing your phone and keys. “I’m going up,” you mutter impatiently, already jabbing your feet in a pair of slippers and locking the door to your apartment behind you. 

“I’m waiting,” he replies, eagerness trimming his voice. 

“Password?” you ask quickly, jabbing the elevator door shut once you step inside. Thank goodness you’re alone, you think as you pull your dress shirt further down your ass. 

“Did you forget already?” he teases, “I told you, it’s 1234.” 

Thankfully, the doors zip you up straight to the penthouse. The connection is always a little spotty in elevators, and you sigh longingly when you feel the buzz jolt and leave it’s momentum, quickly losing its rhythm between your dripping folds. Once you get to the top and the elevator doors open the second door immediately swings open, revealing a soft but aroused-looking Jungkook. He looks fresh from the shower, absolutely radiant and delicious looking. 

You don’t hesitate to run up to him, and Jungkook immediately cups his face in your hands, pressing his lips to yours. 

You’re practically on your tippy-toes, and you squeak against his lips when he hooks his arms around your shoulders, immediately lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, not wanting to stop kissing him. He’s like the sweetest ambrosia, a taste you can’t get enough of. 

The connection to your vibrator has resumed, and you can’t help but grind helplessly under Jungkook’s clothed abs as he carries the both of you to his bedroom.

“N-need you to fuck me,” you bury your head in the crook of his neck, pressing quick kisses to his jawline, “I want you s-so badly.” 

“Hello to you too,” he husks, shutting the bedroom door with his foot. 

Jungkook drops you unceremoniously, and your limbs splay out on the fresh bedsheets of his feather-soft mattress.

“You look gorgeous like this, doll.” he sighs longingly, a hand going under your buttondown to press against your soaked panties. His hand lingers on the way your pussy moves in tandem with the vibrator. 

“J-Jeon please I can’t take it—” 

“Stop calling me that,” he snaps, hands leaving your skin.

You whine at the loss of contact, “Jeon, no. Jungkook. Kook, my Kook. Please, I need you.” 

That gets him going. His pretty chocolate brown eyes zero in on you, and he immediately shucks off his shirt and sweatpants, “How much do you need me?” he asks, pulling out his phone and pressing some buttons, “how much do you need your Kook?” 

The vibrator stops. You cry out in frustration, unsure if it’s because it’s off or because Jungkook’s taking too damn long. “I need you so much, Kook,” you warble with a pout, moving to undo the top buttons of your dress shirt to reveal your cleavage, “honey, you can have me all you want later today. I want you to slap my face with your dick, edge me until I cry, anything. I’m all yours, I’m your little doll. But please for now, I need to feel you inside me.” 

“Say no more,” his lips latch onto your neck, and you sigh at the skin-to-skin contact. His hand fiddles under your shirt, clutching a breast and slapping it so hard it bounces back and forth, “fuck, you’re so pretty.” 

His hand moves to your plain cotton panties, immediately shucking them off, “doll, you really are dripping,” he’s impressed, surprised when he has to untack the fabric from your glossy legs. He hangs the panties on his wooden headboard, a little ornament for him to jack off to later. 

His fingers brush over your folds, wasting no time to slip the vibrator out. He holds it between your faces, forcing you to stare at the pearly substance that coats the entirety of the egg. “Mm, tasty tasty,” he cooes, pink tongue darting out to lick a long strip across the oval. 

You tug him closer, pressing his lips to yours. He tastes a mixture of his own saliva and your arousal, and you grind helplessly against him. You feel how big his cock is, rock-hard and trying very diligently not to bust. He must have a crazy amount of control, and it drives you nuts. 

“Kook,” you frown, bumping your crotch with his.

“Impatient, good thing I am too,” he shucks off his boxers while you unbutton the rest of your shirt, “knees and hands, doll.” 

You don’t care how or what way he’ll take you. Fuck, he could bend you into an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and you’d comply. 

Arching your back so your ass is in the air, you wiggle around, hoping he’ll take the bait. That’s when you sigh, feeling the tip of his dick brush against your wetness.

“Soaking my cock already, baby,” he says, “you’re so good to me.” 

And finally, finally, he slips in. You don’t even care that it stretches you a little too far and too long, it’s been too damn long since you’ve had decent dick and Jungkooks far more than decent. 

He goes at a quick pace, finally showing how impatient he’s been all this time. Your moans and groans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls to the brim. You hold a pillow to your chest, feeling woozy at the way his fat cock stretches you out. 

“F-fuck yeah,” the pace is hard, you practically feel it in your belly, and you love it. “You feel so fucking tight, baby,” he’s all up in your ear, kissing the lobe briefly, “I love the way you suck my cock back in.” 

“Kook,” you press your ass back, “harder, please. I’m your little doll, right? Y-you can fuck me however you want, as hard as you want! Please, ah—! Use me!” 

You cry out when he slips from your folds, immediately flipping you on your back. He wastes no time to wet his dick, lifting one leg over his shoulder to have you deeper. This position is far more intimate, and your noses are practically touching as he thrusts into you. 

You can’t believe you’re in bed with Jeon Jungkook. This must be a dream, a really great, really long wet dream. You crumble in his grip, and you lift a shaky hand to run through his thick black strands. 

“Why’d you make me wait so long?” you cry, staring right into his glittering eyes, “why couldn’t you come for me after your call last night?” 

“Why’d I make you wait?” he grits, crushing the flesh between your hip bones so he can have more leverage to pound into you, “why did you make me wait? Since March, I’ve wanted you. I told you I liked you, told you I fell for you.” 

“T-thought it was a joke,” you warble pathetically, breasts bouncing at his relentless rhythm.

“You think th-this is a joke?” for further emphasis, he glides slower, making you feel just how large and thick he is against your folds, “I want you, doll. Y-yeah, fu-fuck. Want to feed you every day, feed you lasagna, feed you with my cum, make you happy.” 

“I—I want that too, Kook,” you’re a pile of pink mush, and you feel your eyes prick from the overwhelming emotions that have washed over both of you. “Sh-shit, Kook. I think, I think I’m gon’ cum again.” 

“Good, you first,” his hand plays figure 8s with your precious pearl, seeping with arousal and coating his cock in delicious lubrication. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cum. You’re holding him as tight as you can, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around his cock. Jungkook cums shortly after, and you keen at the sensitivity when his hot cum coats your walls. “Baby doll,” he exhales, thrusting lazily. The both of you feel your combined arousal drip between the two of you, onto your skin and onto his sheets, “y-you’re amazing.” 

His softened cock slips out of you, and his hands immediately reach over to swirl around the heady cream over your engorged pussy. You moan when he brings his fingers to your lips, “Open, doll.” 

It tastes salty yet sweet, and you suckle around his finger with a cute little pop. Jungkook grins brightly, feeling like he won the lottery. 

“Are my walls that thin?” you pout, pressing closer to him when he pulls the blankets to your chest. 

“Very,” Jungkook nods with a chuckle, tucking the two of you in, “now get some rest, doll. You presented a lot of offers to me earlier, and I intend to go through with them.” 

You smile into his chest, melty and feeling utterly sated. 

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #goldenclosetnet #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook humor #bts fic #jungkook fic

[robininthelabyrinth]

For your prompts: Mingjue is ace or demi, and somehow between taking over the sect at a very young age and never displaying interest in it, no one ever gave him The Sex Talk. All the aunts and uncles assumed someone else took care of it. Then Huaisang gets to that age. He seems to be very interested in sex. He needs The Sex Talk. Mingjue feels like that should come from him (he's taken care of all the rest pf raising him after all), but he doesn't have the info to do that.

How does Mingjue give him The Sex Talk? Or alternatively, does Huaisang end up already knowing and giving The Talk to his big brother instead?

ao3

“All right,” Nie Mingjue said, sitting down and gesturing for Nie Huaisang to sit down across from him. “I guess we’re going to have to talk about this.”

“I knew this day would come,” Nie Huaisang said, looking unbearably tragic. “I’m going to die of embarrassment before the day is through, da-ge. Won’t you have pity?”

Nie Mingjue knew him too well, though.

“Okay,” he said.

Nie Huaisang frowned at him.

“If it’s too embarrassing to talk about sex, you’re not ready to talk about sex,” Nie Mingjue said with a casual shrug. “We can postpone the conversation to –”

“No! I want to hear about it!” Nie Huaisang scowled at him. “Da-ge, everyone else got the sex talk! You wouldn’t want me to fall behind, would you?”

Nie Mingjue blinked innocently at him. “But Huaisang, you said…”

“Never mind what I said!”

Nie Mingjue tried to maintain his façade of innocent neutrality but quickly cracked in the face of Nie Huaisang’s exasperation; he started laughing.

Nie Huaisang grumbled.

“There’s not much to say,” Nie Mingjue said, wiping his eyes. “And it’s not as if you can’t get by without it, you know. I mean, no one ever gave me the talk.”

Nie Huaisang frowned. “No one? What about A-die? I mean, before…”

“He was busy, and kept postponing it,” Nie Mingjue said, shrugging. “And then he died, and everyone assumed he’d done it already. It’s fine. Everything I needed to learn, I learned from books, and you’re going to do the same.”

“…books.”

“Yep, books.”

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh. “You’re going to make me learn this incredibly important subject from textbooks? Really, da-ge?”

“I am,” Nie Mingjue said.

“You’re robbing me of a valuable life experience here.”

“I’m so sad for you,” Nie Mingjue said dryly, pulling out a box and spreading out the books he’d obtained just for this purpose. “Now, I know you hate studying, I know you think it’s boring and a waste of time, but I really think in this instance –”

“It’s fine,” Nie Huaisang said quickly. His eyes were fixated on the books in front of him, and for some reason he’d flushed bright red, even though it wasn’t all that hot in the room. “I don’t mind. I’ll study hard, da-ge.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that before once or twice,” Nie Mingjue remarked, then shook his head. “Anyway, I think just one or two –”

“I need all of them.”

Nie Mingjue blinked, sincerely this time. “All of them?” he said, and looked down at the books. “Huaisang, I don’t think you understand. I got a selection so that you could have your pick, but they’re by and large very repetitive; each one more or less describes the same basic acts –”

“I need all of them. For reasons.”

“…all right,” Nie Mingjue said, bemused but generally pleased by Nie Huaisang’s highly unusual enthusiasm for study. “I thought I was robbing you of a valuable life experience?”

“That was before! I didn’t realize the books were going to be spring books,” Nie Huaisang said. He’d grabbed one and flipped it open, staring wide-eyed at one of the illustrations.

“What type of textbook would there be for this subject other than a spring book?” Nie Mingjue asked, wondering – as ever – if he’d missed something. Raising children was hard, and raising Nie Huaisang was harder; everyone agreed. “Anyway, I’m given to understand that the art is a bit exaggerated, especially in terms of proportion, and the accompanying text can use some rather strange metaphors, but fundamentally the acts described appear generally consistent throughout the various sources. For example, if you look at this one, you can see that the woman has –”

“Yes, da-ge, I can see.”

“I’m just pointing it out,” Nie Mingjue said defensively. Nie Huaisang was being especially impossible to understand today. “Anyway, it’s all a bit weird, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “Very weird. Incredibly weird. You know what, I think I need to think about this privately for a while.”

“I…are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

“If you insist.” Nie Mingjue stood up. “If you have any questions –”

“Yes I’ll be sure to ask you please leave now thank you good-bye.”

Nie Mingjue found himself outside the door to Nie Huaisang’s room, not entirely sure how his much smaller younger brother had managed to push him out so effectively. Maybe some of that saber training was actually having an impact, however spaced out and half-hearted Nie Huaisang’s efforts were.

Cheered by the thought, Nie Mingjue headed back to his office, feeling very good about himself: that wasn’t nearly as awkward as all the other people had made it sound. It’d been no problem at all!

Of course, a few months later, he found out that Nie Huaisang had started buying up spring books like he’d developed a mania for it.

“That seems fine,” he said to the disciple who’d reported it. “I mean, it’s a bit strange, yes, but he’s always been fond of hobbies that involve collecting things. Birds, weird rocks…that sort of thing.”

“I’m not sure it’s…exactly the same,” the disciple said carefully. “But if you’re not concerned, Sect Leader, we’ll just leave it be.”

“…I’ll talk with him,” Nie Mingjue decided, mostly because of the weird expression on the disciple’s face, and the disciple looked relieved.

Later that evening, he followed up on his word.

“Huaisang, I heard you’re buying spring books,” he said, and Nie Huaisang nearly choked on his soup.

“You can’t just bring that up over dinner!” he hissed.

“…why not?”

“You just – can’t!”

“I can, and did,” Nie Mingjue said. “Some of the disciples have expressed some concern about it.”

Nie Huaisang’s shoulders went up by his ears defensively. “Is it because I’m buying cutsleeve books as well as regular books?”

“They sell cutsleeve books? Really?” Nie Mingjue said blankly, temporarily distracted. “I wouldn’t have thought there’d be enough of a market to make the printing worthwhile. Aren't they supposed to be relatively uncommon? …anyway, no, it’s not about that.”

“…you don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?” Nie Mingjue said, puzzled. “I’m glad you’re expanding your horizons.”

“You…are?” Nie Huaisang was blinking rapidly.

“I mean, you’re reading? Reading is good. I’m always happy when you advance your scholarly pursuits,” Nie Mingjue said. “I mean, I’d still like it if you spent a bit more time on your saber…”

“Wait,” Nie Huaisang said hastily, clearly wanting to avoid the subject of his saber training. “If you don’t mind the fact that I’m buying them, or the content, what is the concern?”

“Mostly quantity, I think?” Nie Mingjue hadn’t been able to figure it out either. “You’ve exceeded your allowance twice already, and really, how many books recounting the same exact content can you really need?”

“It’s not quite the same content,” Nie Huaisang said. “There are different…scenarios.”

“Yes, but it all leads to the same place in the end, doesn’t it? Hand, mouth, front, back, inside or outside; you read one, you’ve read them all. Though I guess the cutsleeve ones are different?”

“Not really,” Nie Huaisang admitted. “But maybe take a look anyway? Maybe you’ll like those better…here, come up to my room.”

Nie Huaisang had, apparently, started in on making quite a collection, and from the way he puttered around trying to find the right ones to share, seemed to be in the process of becoming a little connoisseur. It was pretty adorable, actually; Nie Mingjue couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Nie Huaisang so enthusiastic.

“Having two spears involved does seem to make it a bit more awkward,” he concluded after paging through a few. “And obviously you can’t do it from the front in the same way, but other than that the mechanics generally seem the same. I suppose there’s really only so many ways you can twist the human body…”

“How about this one, then?” Nie Huaisang said, offering up a book about mirror grinders sharing a toy between them. “Twice the young ladies involved!”

“That seems even less efficient. If they wanted to be penetrated, why be a mirror grinder instead of finding a man?”

Nie Huaisang seemed somewhat taken aback by the question. “Maybe they just fell in love with another woman first?” he eventually suggested.

That seemed reasonable enough, so Nie Mingjue nodded agreeably. “Makes sense that they’d use a toy, then. Otherwise wouldn't they be stuck with using just mouths and hands? Though I suppose there’s always the eponymous grinding motion, too.”

Nie Huaisang reached over and put his hand in Nie Mingjue’s lap.

“Huaisang! What are you doing?”

“Just checking,” Nie Huaisang said, rubbing the back of his head. “You’re really not…Wait, let me find you some others. Maybe you’ll like these better – they have more scenario involved.”

Truly Nie Huaisang had a wide collection. There were solo stories, coupled stories, stories involved groups of three or more, stories involving people being tied up or doing the tying, one story involving whips and pinching nails that Nie Mingjue initially thought was a torture manual that had gotten mixed in by mistake except for how the receiving party seemed extremely enthusiastic about it. There was even one involving –

“Fish?”

“Tentacles.”

“People want to fuck fish?”

“It’s not – you know what, I don’t know, maybe they do,” Nie Huaisang said, throwing up his hands. “Octopi are a surprisingly popular subject along the coast, and some of the artwork from Dongying features it.”

“You have works from Dongying?” Nie Mingjue asked, impressed. It wasn’t every young man’s hobby that involved international commerce. “You’re really turning into a collector, Huaisang.”

“I’m not – it’s not –” Nie Huaisang grimaced. “You know what, maybe the disciples are right and I should cut down on purchasing so many.”

“Why? If you’re enjoying your new hobby –”

“There’s a difference between being known as the guy who has some good spring books and being known as the guy who collects spring books as a hobby. The latter just sounds pathetic.”

Nie Mingjue wasn’t entirely sure about that.

“Well, it’s up to you,” he said, and started to get up to leave, only to have Nie Huaisang tug on his hand.

“Da-ge, I have a question.”

Nie Mingjue sat back down.

“Have you ever…?” Nie Huaisang nodded at the books.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, wrinkling his nose a bit at the thought. “It seems like more trouble than it’s worth, really.”

“What about…uh…” He gestured at one in particular. Nie Mingjue leaned over and checked; it was one of the ones featuring a single man touching himself. “Do you…?”

“Oh, sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “Every once in a while. Don't most people? But there’s rather a difference between doing that and having to get up close and personal with someone else’s genitals, isn’t there? We all wipe our own asses after we shit, but that doesn’t mean we do it for other people.” He gave Nie Huaisang a pointed look. “Present company excluded.”

“I was a baby, it doesn’t count,” Nie Huaisang hissed at him. “Never bring it up again.”

Nie Mingjue smirked at him.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes dramatically. “Da-ge, you’re hopeless. One day you’ll find someone you like enough to try it with!”

“Maybe,” Nie Mingjue said. “Maybe not. It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Uh, yes it does! You’re going to have kids, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Nie Mingjue said, hesitating a little. “Huaisang, you’re my heir.”

“I know that! I’m in line until you have kids of your own to inherit…why are you shaking your head?”

“You’re going to inherit after me,” Nie Mingjue said, as gently as he could. “I’m probably not going to have kids, but even if I did, I’d arrange it so that they’d be part of the branch family, not the main line. I want you to inherit.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes were going wide.

No, it was too early to tell him about the saber spirits, Nie Mingjue thought to himself. About their family's horrible temper and his private suspicion that the temper and the qi deviations fed into each other; his conviction that Nie Huaisang would be a better sect leader than him, a better continuation for their line than him, and his determination to make sure that the next generation of Nie sect leaders didn't have to fear a shortened life the way he did. He’d tell him that later, sometime. Today was a good day, there was no point in spoiling it.

“Is that going to be a problem?” he asked instead. “I mean, you have such a wide variety here; don’t tell me you’re solely interested in cut-sleeves…?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said. “No, I like – everything.”

“Well, then,” Nie Mingjue said. “There should be no problem, then. If you end up with a woman, have some kids; if you end up with a man, take a concubine. Either way, you’ll get an heir.” He frowned. “Assuming you don’t mind –”

“No, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, and he sounded incredibly long-suffering. “I think I’ll manage to have sex, somehow.”

“Well, I mean, if you’re thinking about actually going ahead and trying it out, that’s a whole different conversation we need to have, as opposed to the talk about what it is. You need to be careful about it –”

“Ugh, da-ge, please, no –”

“I’m not going to lecture! Just don’t overdo it or anything. You don’t want to end up with a thousand bastards like Sect Leader Jin –”

“Gross! No!”

“– or with all sorts of diseases –”

“Da-ge!”

“– or with a reputation for being a dissolute or a –”

“I will only have sex with someone I love,” Nie Huaisang announced. “Or at least mildly care for. A nice clean person who likes me back. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“More or less,” Nie Mingjue said, and glanced down at the books. “Say, Huaisang. You know so much about this. Have you ever…”

“Do you have a question?” Nie Huaisang scooted forward. “Ask away, da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue flicked his forehead. “Not a substantive one. But have you ever thought about making your own? You’re a perfectly good artist, and you’re very imaginative; I’m sure you could come up with some scenarios of your own that might be very interesting.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes were wide. “I could, couldn’t I?” he said, marveling, and then suddenly jumped up and dashed over to grab some paper. “Oh, I could! I could – and that – and – and..!”

Nie Mingjue decided to retreat, smiling proudly to himself.

Reading and writing, he thought happily. They’d probably never get a warrior out of Nie Huaisang, but there might be a scholar in him yet!

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #the talk

[i-am-the-ass-admiral]

quiet worship

benny miller x gn!reader

tags: smut (18+ please), feelings, tenderness, morning sex, penetrative sex, no explicit descriptions of reader parts (when i saw gn i mean it lol), adoring benny, soft benny, switch benny if you squint, praise, established relationship, pretty much pwp but it’s so soft omfg, hand appreciation, touching, kissing, 

notes: posted late, sorry for errors

length: ~2.9k

--

You wake slowly, warm and saccharine. Crisp morning light reflected off the snow outside spills over long limbs tangled with yours but you don’t see it yet. A dream leaves you wound tight, aching and wanting and almost ready to rut against the thick thigh between yours but you leave it off. At least for now. Eyes closed, you take a long, deep breath. Everything smells familiar. Like faint ozone as the space heater kicks on, like fresh cotton sheets. Salt and earthy masculine soap and sleep-warm skin. For a moment, you hold the scent in your lungs, content to exist with it for a while. When you let it out, your body relaxes. Somehow molds into the broad chest under your arm. You tuck in your cheek, a familiar steady heartbeat threading faintly to your ear. It’s almost enough to lull you back to sleep except the body under yours stiffens with a light gasp and you open your eyes.

When you look up at him, Benny’s face still seems impassive. Strands of hair stick up in places or fall over his eyes and just underneath you can make out the faintest line between his brows. Gently and without a thought, your fingers circle where they lay. Nonsensical patterns that slowly but surely draw Benny back to your world. Like you, like a mirror his first instinct as he wakes is to breathe deep. You smile to yourself and distantly wonder who learned it from whom. Then those eyes—oh, those eyes—blink open and catch the morning light and just like that, he smiles. 

“Creeper,” he teases, and you huff. Nothing smart to say as his sleep-rough voice skates down your skin. “You watchin’ me sleep?”

He curls his arm around you and pulls you close even though you pinch his side. 

“For like two seconds,” you smile back. “You’re not that pretty.”

Benny’s soft look breaks into a full grin and his chuckle makes you bounce. 

“Liar. ‘M gorgeous.”

You rolls your eyes but kiss his chest. “Every day of the week and it makes you a huge pain in the ass.”

You can see some of that familiar fire sparking in Benny’s eye as his brain comes back online. 

“Sounds like someone woke up ’n the wrong side of the bed. Those’re fightin’ words,” he drawls.

That drawl brings back your dream. The same tone that ended up muffled in your neck, taunting and teasing as he thrust into you and your fingers dug into his broad back. Just the vague memories are enough to make your thighs tighten involuntarily. Without fail, Benny can pick up what you want—usually without a clue otherwise but that was probably a dead giveaway. Or maybe it’s the black overtaking your eyes, the sharp edge to your smile, the growing heat at the crux of your hips—whatever it is, Benny sees it. And he’s never been one to shrug off a rousing morning round. 

“Oh you do got a little fight this mornin’, don’t you?” he teases, pinching your leg where he can reach it. He tosses his chin in that familiar way that drives you crazy and says, “C’mon darlin’, you want in the ring?”

You snort, “You’re ridiculous,” but it’s the invitation you were hoping for so you untangle yourself and slide up over his hips as he pushes the blanket down. While he’s not wrong, sometimes you do like to fuck like Benny fights, this morning isn’t that morning. Something about it feels fragile and soft and you want Benny to feel that too. For all his hard edges, there’s a molten core to him—he just needs a little direction to find it. 

In the beginning, it took a while for you to be comfortable on top but Benny—sweet man—built you up as far as you needed. It’s in the way his bright blue eyes widen and the sort of breathless smile that spills out of him—it’s all the encouragement you need. He’s half-hard behind you already, and his eyes flit avaricious over every inch of you. If you let him, he’d take you as hard and as fast as you want. Or, if he’s feeling particular, as hard and fast as he wants and christ do you see stars then. The trick is to get him to follow when you want something slow and sweet. 

So, lead by example. 

His hands lay wide and warm over your thighs, grip tight already, but you pry him loose and thread your fingers together. He doesn’t look confused like you thought he might, just pleased to be under you. Happy for contact. Then you flatten one of his hands back against your thigh and take the other higher. Bring him to your lips and kiss the pad of each finger. You watch him from under your lashes, wondering if he likes what he sees, catch as his lips parts and a soft needful sigh escapes him. The sound sparks warm embers in your stomach. He presses against your lips with his index finger, asking entry. You refuse. Not yet, anyway. Instead you flatten his palm against your face and nuzzle your cheek in his grip. God, the length of his hand spans from your chin to your ear and it makes you so warm. Unsteady. Almost formless save for the shape his hand gives you. Hot emotion rises in your throat and for a moment you close your eyes again and breathe—in and out, nice and slow, enjoying his quiet adoration until you feel solid again. 

This is one of the only times Benny is quiet. You cover his hand with your own and drag him lower, so his fingers trace the column of your throat and the top of your chest. Normally Ben is full of stories. Vivacious. Filled to the brim with potent emotion both good and bad. You’ve gone with him through so many of those feelings it’s almost second-nature to you now to anticipate how he would react to something. But this…you never got used to. Like this, when you lead, he falls into a kind of quiet awe that leaves you trembling. How do you hold something like that in your grasp? How can you even begin to plumb the depths of hushed worship that stare back at you when you catch his eyes?

The answer is you can’t. Sometimes it’s even overwhelming—Benny will give all that you ask, all that he has—all you can do now is guide his hand lower. You pinch your nipple with his fingers and gasp softly and that calls his other hand to your waist without instruction. Answering your unspoken desire. Covering each of his hands with one of your own, you let him roam wherever he might and guide him in turn. Silently, your head falls back and your eyes close. Why look at anything now when you could feel it instead? Callouses catch in your skin, fingers grasp, tease, somewhere along the line you lose yourself in the feeling. Drunk on the texture of his hands and the timbre of his voice as he lays praise at your feet.

“So pretty like this,” he says. “Love how you feel, darlin’ can I have you?”

You can’t answer with words but you can nod. One of his hands leaves and you immediately miss the heat of it but the way he spreads the other and touches you from throat to groin is enough to keep you distracted. Long fingers avoid the place you want him most—part of you is thankful, part impatient. Between the two of you, there’s not much patience to be found at this point. There’s the drag of a drawer, a click and a shuffling of sheets but it’s not until Benny adjusts his legs and you feel his cock stiff and hot against your ass do your eyes open again. 

He’s there—open and wanting as he always is. But there’s a hint of vulnerability, something doleful and tender in those blue eyes that leaves you breathless. 

“Can I?” he pleads, and it’s only then you catch the slickness coating the fingers that left you. 

“Please.”

It’s been so long together and still he asks (begs) like it’s the first time. You move at the same time—he reaches for you as you reach for him—but he finds you first. A tug; you fall forward. Plant your hands on his chest and lift your hips for him and long, thick fingers slide slick into place where you’re aching for him. 

“Benny…” You draw his name out low and slow somewhere between a whisper and a moan. “Ah, god—” 

“That’s it, baby—” He works you open by rote, all your pieces memorized; urges, “c’mon, you can take me, can’t you?”

It’s as close to begging as he’ll get for now—though if you wanted to hear it you know how to make him beg so prettily—but it’s more than enough for you. You scramble for the lube he found, slick him up just enough to ease the slide and sink down onto him as slow as you can.

Christ, he’s so much. You should’ve let him open you more. Should’ve let his hands do the work instead of falling for the wrecked sound of his voice, but a part of you likes the way it hurts at first. It’s tightness and pressure and it builds in your gut until you’re seated flush against his hips and he’s grit his teeth so hard you could almost hear it. His heart pounds under your hands and his thighs shake but he waits, oh he waits—

“Good boy,” you whisper, “thank you, baby. So good for me.” He whines in the back of his throat, hips twitch and you hiss. “Be patient for me.”

And he is. Patient, just like you asked. Until you give an experimental thrust and just that alone has him throwing his head back into the pillows. God, the line of his neck exposed and taut looks too good—you set your teeth and suck mark after mark into his skin. Wait long enough in-between to see how pretty the purple blooms; by the end you’ve bitten a garden and he’s trembling. You kiss him, finally, despite the morning breath and all—it’s worth it for the desperate way his tongue draws you in and only when you’ve tasted the way he needs you now do you move. 

He moans your name like a poem. Soft and repetitious, sprinkled with praise and curses as you take him in and out over and over. The pace is maddeningly slow for both of you but you can feel his restraint in the way he quivers, how he grits his teeth and hisses, and you have to make it worth it for that. If you were to ask Benny, he would say it’s always worth it, no matter how he gets to have you. But oh, for his patience, he deserves something good. Aching, slow, you clench and squeeze and thrust until your legs begin to feel like jelly and you’re closer to the edge than you thought you’d be by now. But it’s the morning. It’s how he holds you in his eyes, how his hands grip your hips or tease or pinch that finally pulls you apart.

“Benny, baby,” you pant, “more, more please—”

You don’t even get to finish asking; he’s dying to fill you, take you, give you everything you want. He plants his feet behind you and the tension in him has wound so tight he almost dislodges you with his first thrust. You groan high and sharp and he does it again and suddenly that’s all you can feel, all you can think. More more more Ben please there—maybe you say it out loud, maybe you don’t. You’re not sure of anything except the heat and breadth of him inside you—the sound of sex and the nonsense coming out of your mouth and Benny’s worshipful silence. The edge is so close, it’s right there, you just need something to take you over but you don’t know what and you can’t think to ask; too cock-drunk and desperate for anything Ben will give you to give it a name. 

But Benny—clever boy—he knows. 

God even the look of him leaves you undone, and he knows it. His head tips back but body strains up toward you as if he wants nothing more than every inch of contact you’ll give him. Without a word, he pulls you down for another kiss. Bites at your bottom lip and savors the way you moan and slips a hand between your bodies to join his cock. Your hips stutter as he strokes you with perfect pressure, tearing you apart inside and out with sure hands and steady rhythm. 

“Ohhh—” So much. “—just like that Benny baby please—” It’s exactly what you needed; smart clever sweet man he knew just what you needed. “—right there, don’t stop, Benny ahhn hah—”

“Fuck,” he growls, drags you down and into his mouth, his molten center finally melding with yours, “fuck, are you gonna come for me sweetheart? Let me make a mess a’ you?”

It’s that—god it’s exactly that and his tongue and hands and cock splitting you open and the desperate worship on his face that finally sends you reeling. You want him to make a mess of you; you don’t ever want to be clean again, not if it means you can keep him like this. Pleasure pulses through you in waves, shaking you to your core; toes curling, body dripping—you scream with it. Tears bite the corners of your eyes. You curse in tandem, a hoarse crescendo punctuated with each deep, perfect thrust. 

You writhe, desperately, embarrassingly, but the way Benny moans and thrusts unerringly into your heat sets you alight with ecstasy. Pleasure knots tight in your core, zips out to every extremity, the tips of your toes and fingers and lips. So hot you’re sure your kisses must burn him. Your body bucks mindlessly, bows into him for all the contact he craves, a glorious pressure and heat—

His voice breaks over your name and you feel him empty inside you. He buries himself in one last-ditch thrust, crushing you tight to his body as you quiver and shake and clench in your aftershocks and god feeling him so deep and so hot is almost enough to send you over again. You’re on another plane, flying high above your joined bodies but it’s the beat of his heart and the sound of his breath and the touch of his hands that gentle you back down to find him waiting. As you slump into him, his arms curl around you and he holds you there. You’re not sure how long—you’re still reeling—but he cradles you with all the tenderness in the world. Presses your foreheads together and strokes your back as his hips (and yours) finally roll to a stop. Spent and exhausted. 

When your eyes flutter open you find him waiting there. Big pretty blue depths waiting to swallow you whole. Without a second thought, you brush the hair from his forehead and fall in. Kiss him soft and long and slow. His fingers thread along the back of your neck and he seems content to stay buried inside you until you say otherwise. You’d let him, too. For as long as he wanted, if he asked. That’s somewhat frightening, the implications of it all, but it’s something you’re learning to accept. You love him—sometimes it’s just easier to show than to tell. 

When at last you pull away from his kiss, you find you can’t meet those eyes again. Not yet. Something hot and tight chokes your throat and you bury your face in the crook of his neck instead. Silently begging for him to understand. 

And—without fail—he does. You can feel some of his concern in the way his arms wrap around you again but he pets your hair and lets you feel for as long as you need. And from the way his heart still pounds against yours, you know he’s right there with you. Faithful to the end. At last you let out a long satisfied sigh and slide off his hips back to the spot at his side you’d left behind. 

“Helluva wake up call,” he teases, voice light but careful. 

“Couldn’t help myself,” you smile, tracing the line of his jaw. “You’re in my dreams then here in person all gorgeous like this—it’s all your fault.”

He laughs and kisses your fingertips when they stray too close to his mouth and you feel the last of the tension drain out of him. 

“Yeah, guess I had that comin’.”

“Well…it’s not all your fault.” You pause, stuck in a moment of vulnerability, but you keep your smile. Benny deserves to hear it. “I do love you, I’m sure that has something to do with it.”

It sounds flippant—you don’t mean it that way—but Benny’s face breaks into the widest grin you’ve seen in days. 

“Ass,” he chuckles. His soft melted center heats him all the way through, a pleased pink dusting his cheeks above his goofy smile as he murmurs, “I love you, too.”

#benny miller x GN!Reader #triple frontier #benny miller x reader

[t-lostinworlds]

Truth or Drink (Tom Holland)

[YouTube AU: Video 2]

a/n: this took a while asdfghjkl this was in my drafts since oct. at 7k already (but got distracted with other WIPs as always) and was suggested by this anon back in aug. so i’m sorry this took a so long hun. also, the gif took a fucking while too ‘cause we are extra in this house haha (i mean, i wanted the time in the vid to match the wc so ha). anyway, enough babbling and let’s get into the video! lol, i hope you guys enjoy this one!

summary: You and Tom do a couples Q&A where you spilled steamy secrets with the help from alcohol. pairing: tom holland x fem!reader warnings: dialogue bonanza (lots of laughing and asking), alcohol consumption, secret spilling (from both parties), teasing from everyone (will include dirty jokes from the lads), mentions of smut & risque aka sex-themed questions. word count: 14.2k+ (aha enjoy!)

☰ youtube channel | previous video << ǁ >> next video ☰ masterlist on bio & pinned post

⚠ DISCLAIMER: this is a multi-part (not a series) which is basically one-shots happening in the same universe meaning you don’t need to read the previous one to understand this one since they are not heavily connected plot wise. although each fic does happen chronologically, you don’t need to read them in order much like how you don’t need to watch youtube videos in order.

-:-:-:-:-

You knew something was about to happen the moment you walked into the dining area, the way Tom immediately went to latch onto you like a koala bear—as if he hasn't seen you just minutes before—tells all.

"What are you up to now?" you asked with a playful scrunch of your nose.

You rested your hands on his shoulders, the fabric of his pink hoodie—while you wore his other pink hoodie, outfits not at all planned since you just took the first thing you saw in his closet—soft to the touch as you took a glance at the camera that was set up at the head of the dining table. The greenery of the outside world behind the glass doors served as a backdrop to the shot.

The crease between your brows deepened at the sight, gaze landing back on the boy attached to your hip who was hugging you sideways with a certain glow in his eyes.

"I'm not up to anything," Tom denied, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck to litter the skin with sweet and soft kisses. Although the gesture made your heart melt, it also made your suspicion grow. You just know there was more to this than meets the eye.

Strong arms staying around your torso, Tom pulled away slightly so he could meet your gaze again, a certain smile growing on his lips, one you know too well. It was the usual smile he wears whenever he wants something from you, a favor perhaps. An all too powerful grin that had you made him get away with things—mostly stupid ones—easily that you aren't exactly proud to admit.

"Tom," you warned with a raise of a brow, enough seriousness and command in your tone that he was quick to give in.

"Okay, okay, we're shooting the next video," he chuckled, tracing your jaw with the tip of his nose before giving it a soft peck. "Which I am hoping you'll do with me still," he murmured, placing another kiss on your cheek before pulling away to look at you fully as he flashed you a not-so-innocent smile.

Bingo.

Tom just doesn't suddenly become so clingy—well, he normally is but more than usual anyway—especially out of nowhere without it having an underlying reason.

You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically. You stayed silent as you weighed your odds, if the enjoyment of making the video was worth it for you to endure the obvious embarrassment that would come with it. You do love this YouTube thing he's got going on, you truly do enjoy being a part of it. But with the things he's spilled in the last video, you just want to make sure that this time won't be too much, though you highly doubt it.

It was hilarious how his bottom lip started to go at your reaction, eyes turning rounder, cuter that would give Puss in Boots a run for his money. And just as you counted in your head, three, two, one—

"Please, darling? Do it with me?" Tom cooed, placing his head on your shoulder as he gave your waist a loving squeeze, fluttering his eyelashes at you in the most adorable of ways with that cute pout to match. It was his signature look whenever he wanted something, the look of handsome and adorable persuasion. "I'll keep the secret-spilling at a minimum, love. And besides, we can always edit it out."

You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head at the fact that you're saying yes either way. You can never say no whenever he puts on that very persuasive face of his, can never resist him even if you tried. And of course, Tom knows this power he has over you, and he's mastered a way on how and when to use it to his advantage.

You aren't exactly proud to say that he has never failed once, his tactic very effective and that's putting it lightly. It's sneaky and annoying sometimes but it's still cute nonetheless.

Though, never did he once abuse this weakness of yours, only using it with the little things—like letting him sneak in some snacks on set when he was instructed not to or when he wants to do certain stuff—because when it's something serious and you say 'no,' then he's quick to listen and settle when you've made your final decision. He knows you only have the best intentions when it comes to his safety and just him in general, so there's really no doubt on Tom's behalf when it comes to following you on that.

"Why me? Why not give the other boys a chance to be in the spotlight?" you proposed, not giving him the satisfaction of winning just yet.

Tom shrugged with a wide smile. "The fans love you," he hummed.

The reception of the last video was mostly positive. Maybe it was the fact that you've been with Tom for a couple years already.

Your relationship was private of course, but it wasn't a secret. It was relatively the both of you showing glimpses of it every now and then online. So, compared to when the news first broke out, this time was a bit calmer. There are still trolls and haters—they're always going to be there unfortunately—but you've learned to shut them out, turning your focus more on the ones who are very positive and supportive. They should be the only ones who should be given attention to, no point wasting your energy on random keyboard warriors.

"You mean they love it when I make fun of you?" you said, laughter escaping your lips soon after when Tom buried his face back on the crook of your neck as he groaned in dismay.

Let's just say his fans quite enjoyed how you handled him in the last video, the teasing, the banter, the whole lot. Tom hasn't been able to escape the countless clips that are circulating the good old internet. No matter which platform he uses, a clip or meme is always there to haunt him. Most of them vary from him screaming and wriggling in pain; laughing like a hyena while also wriggling in pain; the random facial expressions he's made; and even sometimes, a snapshot of you looking at him in great disappointment and/or embarrassment. That's just some among the plethora of other memes.

Tom had seen it coming of course, but it doesn't mean it's any less embarrassing, especially with how clueless he seemed when it came to women.

"Unfortunately, that too," he grumbled.

"Okay then, might as well give them more content," you teased, Tom pulling away again to gawk at you with a look of feign betrayal crossing his features. You could only laugh at that, giving his jutted out lip a kiss to replace it with one of his many sweet smiles. Despite you saying it in a joking manner, he can't really deny that that would happen either way. After all, no matter what he does, he will always be a walking meme.

Tom finally lets you go after one more peck on the cheek, guiding you towards the seat by the other end of the table soon after. He helped you in like the gentleman that he is, a kiss landing on top of your head once you were seated before he made his way towards his place.

"What are we doing this time?" you asked when Tom sat down on the chair across from you.

And as if on cue, Harry walked into the dining area with two bottles of gin on hand, Harrison following suit with a bowl of half-sliced limes along with Tuwaine with a bucket of ice and two Collins glasses.

"Truth or drink," Harry said with a wide grin, lifting the bottles of Aviation gin to further prove his point.

"You guys chose me to do this with him because I'm a lightweight, which means I'm more likely to talk, didn't you?" you said, narrowing your eyes at each of them as they placed their respective items right in front of you in the middle of the table.

All three boys gasped exaggeratedly at your accusation, shaking their heads as they made their way behind the camera, chorusing a bunched of:

"Oh no, of course not."

"That was not the plan."

"We would never."

You could only roll your eyes at them, playfully of course, turning back to Tom who was quick to throw his hands up in surrender once he took in your expression of pure suspicion.

"I swear, I just want to do this with you, plain and simple," he confessed, though his follow up sentence made you think that it wasn't as plain and simple. "But you are very funny when you have alcohol in your system."

"Does that mean I'm not when sober?" You raised your brow at the man across you, sitting straight up as you clasp your hands together, resting it on the table to seem serious.

Tom shook his head frantically. "No! You're still very funny sober!" he rushed. "Love, you know what I meant," he added with a whine, head dropping low once you let out a laugh, only lifting it back up to shoot you another pout. He can be quite gullible sometimes and you honestly love it, love teasing him about.

"Besides, it's a couples Q&A and the only couple here are you two so there aren't really any options. The only difference is that it has alcohol to spice things up a little," Harry said, now in his place behind the camera just like before.

"With equally spicy questions," Harrison added with a wriggle of his brows, coming back up on the head of the table to place a stack of white cards to which you assumed was where the questions were written.

"You guys wrote the questions didn't you? Okay, this is a set up," you joked.

"They're harmless questions I swear!" Harrison defended with a laugh before returning back to his place by the camera. Though knowing them for as long as you have, you've learned to never trust those words fully. It was highly expected that the questions aren't going to be simple, let alone safe for work.

"But if you're not comfortable doing it, it's totally fine, darling," Tom said, smiling sweetly as he grabbed your hands across the table and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He knows you have never been an avid drinker. As you've said, you are lightweight. So, if ever you wanted to back out, he's just making sure you know that you have the option to.

"No, I'm fine with it. This will be fun," you said, flashing him a true, reassuring smile of your own, squeezing his hand in return for good measure. "But can I at least have some juice or something? I'm not drinking gin straight," you added.

"Figured you'd say that," Tom said with a wide grin, rushing up from his seat and disappearing into the kitchen. He came back not long after with a bottle of orange juice on one hand all while holding a spoon and paring knife on the other. "Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice," he sang the good old Snoop Dogg classic no matter how corny, placing the bottle juice right beside the gin on the head of the table.

You narrowed your eyes at your man. "You seem prepared Tom."

"Nope, I just know you too well," he hummed, giving you a sweet peck on the forehead before he was back on his seat across you.

"Right, let's give the people what they want," you said, rubbing your hands together with a wide smile.

It was Tom's turn to look at you skeptically. "Why do I have a feeling that we'll just take turns in exposing each other?"

You tilted your head at him with a grin, shrugging your shoulders and said,

"How bad can it be?"

***

"And we are rolling."

"What's up guys! Tom Holland here," he introduced with a loud clap. "I'm back with another video joined by none other than the gorgeous Y/N." You waved at the camera with a sweet smile at the mention of your name. "The rest of the gang are behind the camera as per usual," Tom added, the lads cheering at their cue unenthusiastically and totally not in sync, chuckles and giggles following soon after.

"You can feel the excitement in the room," Tom said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes. "Anyhow, since lovely Ryan Reynolds sent me a case of gin just recently, I thought; why not put it to good use?" Tom shot the camera a knowing look. "Hashtag not sponsored but should be!" he yelled, making you jump slightly at the sudden loud sound.

"Do you have to be so loud?" you grumbled, playfully covering your ears in the process.

"Oh, sorry love," Tom chuckled, shooting you a sweet smile before turning back to the camera, finger pointed at it as he said, "But Ryan, my DMs are always open."

"Always looking for someone to replace me," you sighed, shaking your head dejectedly as you turned to the camera with a deep frown.

"Ah, here we go," Tom groaned, shooting you a playful glare because he knows that the teasing would only get more and more prominent from here on out.

"What? You and I both know I've got a lot of competition," you said as a matter of fact, leaning back on your seat with arms crossed over your chest. "Mainly Jake G. and Harrison, with a couple of variations here and there but you get what I mean."

Tom shook his head at you with a teasing roll of his eyes. "Once again, my girlfriend everyone," he said to the lens with a tight lip smile before turning back to you with a deadpan expression. You only shrugged in response, flashing him an innocent smile.

"Anyway, a fan suggested this in the comments of the last video so today, we're going to be doing Truth or Drink," he continued, turning back to face the camera. "Rules are simple, we take turns on reading out the questions that are written on these cards right here"—Tom lifted the stack of white, rectangular cards before placing them back on the table—"and we either answer them truthfully or we take a drink."

"Oh and a little disclaimer," you paused as you looked at the camera. "The lads wrote the questions so we have no idea what's in the cards nor did we have any involvement in the choosing of certain topics which are possibly going to be discussed in this video," you added, feeling like it was a fact that needed to be said.

"Parental guidance is advised," Tom chuckled.

"They're not that bad you divs," Harrison grumbled.

Now you're certain on who wrote most of the questions, he's been keen on taking offense whenever anyone gets suspicious over them. "We'll be the judge of that," you stated, raising a brow at Harrison before turning back to Tom.

"Let's get right into it shall we?" Tom proposed. You gave him a nod in response, jutting out two thumbs up for good measure. "Ladies first," he said, flashing you a charming grin as he gestured towards the pile of cards.

You reached over to the pile, making sure to pick the card in the middle just to make sure that it was completely random. You adore the lads, but knowing how mischievous they can get, you've learned to always keep one eye open with regard to everything that they do. Plus, it was so easy to set it up for you to pick a certain question given that it was only you and Tom taking turns on picking a card.

"We are starting off with something a tad bit dark huh." You gave the lads a swift glance before turning to the card you had on hand. "If I killed someone would you help me cover it up?" you read out loud, placing the card on the discarded pile before your gaze landed on Tom who gave you a small, secretive nod 'yes' which only made you giggle.

Tom leaned forward as he rested his elbow on the marble surface, hand playing with his chin with his eyes on the ceiling to seem that he was deep in thought. He turned back to you and said, "Do we not get any context? Was it an accident or was it on purpose? Was it due to hate or fear? Was it justified?"

"It's a yes or no answer Tom," you laughed.

"Well then, you already know the answer but for legal purposes," Tom paused, reaching for the bucket of ice and putting some in his glass. He poured the gin on top of that and then added a dash of lime, swirling around the glass to mix them all together. "My lips are sealed," he chuckled, lifting the glass up to his lips and taking a drink. "Oh, that's good stuff," he commented, taking another sip before putting the glass back down.

"Hypothetically, if you were going to help, you'll probably be the one who'll get us caught if I'm being honest," you giggled to which Tom threw his head back with a laugh.

"Yeah, you'll tell me what you did, I'll get shocked and as we're getting stuff to you know, hypothetically hide the body, I'll go 'I can't believe you killed someone' in public and then someone will hear and call the police and we're done."

You burst out in a hearty laugh at that, nodding your head in agreement. "That's exactly how it's going to happen."

It was Tom's turn to pick a question, his grin growing wider as his eyes scanned the card in his fingers. "What's the most embarrassing thing you've done in front of me?" he asked, his features brightening in excitement because he already knows the answer. There wasn't really much to begin with other than that one incident that will always haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Do you want me to tell them the story?" you sighed, leaning back on your chair with palms flat on the table. It wasn't one of your finest moments that's for sure and Tom hasn't been letting you hear the end of it. In fact, it was one of his favourite stories involving you both.

"It's up to you, love. You don't have to if you don't want to." Tom shrugged with a smirk, reaching for your glass to get your drink made. "But that moment was so adorable for me though, embarrassing for you but very adorable for me," he added with a wink.

"Adorable or ego boosting?" you pointed out with a raise of your brow.

"Both," Tom laughed, adding some ice in your glass and pouring just the right amount of gin soon after.

You watched with an adoring smile as he poured in the orange juice, the sound of silverware and glass clinking together filling the air as he mixed up the liquids. He then squeezed a bit of lime in your drink, taking the paring knife soon after to slice up another lime in a thin circle, making a small slit in the middle so he can put it on the rim of your glass easily. Tom can be extra at times, of course he felt the need to decorate your drink, even when it wasn't exactly necessary but you wouldn't want it any other way.

"Look at you being a bartender," you teased, Tom looking up from his task to shoot you playful wink with a smug smirk to match.

"You love to see it."

You shrugged, not at all denying his claim because well, you do love seeing it.

"Here you go, mi lady," he hummed, handing you your beautifully decorated drink with a proud grin on his lips.

"Thank you, kind sir."

As much as how refreshing the cocktail looked in its cold glass and bright, orange colored glory, you know you had to be strategic with drinking. Because alcohol boosts your confidence, it makes you brave, it makes you say things you wish you hadn't when sober. And with you being lightweight, it isn't exactly ideal to be happy-go-lucky with it, especially knowing how these questions can go from one thing to another real quick.

You thought it's best to share embarrassing things that you can live with to keep the drinking at a minimum, rather than take too much alcohol too fast and say worse things down the line because you got somewhat tipsy or downright drunk. There's really no way of knowing how hard it hits given that different types of alcohol affect you in different ways.

"Okay, it was when we first met, which obviously doesn't make it any less embarrassing, first impressions and all that," you started, sitting straight up as your fingers drummed around the cool surface of your glass. "Me and a friend of mine were at this park and decided it would be fun to rent out these bikes to get around quicker, so we did. Lo and behold, Tom and Harrison were also at said park—"

"Oh yeah, I remember this," Harrison laughed. "This is going to be good."

You shot the blonde lad a quick glare before continuing. "Luck wasn't on my side that day—well, depends on how you look at things because I did meet Tom and seem to have gotten far," you laughed towards the camera, giving Tom a swift glance who was quick to lock eyes with you as he nodded agreeably with a chuckle. "But add that to me being very clumsy and simply put, I fell off the bike right in front of him," you sighed dejectedly, heat coating your cheeks as the lads chuckled in their seats, purely in amusement and not at all in a demeaning way.

"Go on love, let's hear the full thing," Tom encouraged, sitting back on his chair with his arms crossed over his chest to relax, attention fully on you as if he hasn't heard this story many times before. He genuinely does love hearing it. As you've said, it was one of his favourites.

"I'm getting there," you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at Tom who only flashed you an adorable, bright smile, knowing that if he does that, you can't stay mad at him. With a another sigh, you continued, "As we were riding our bikes, we saw him and Harrison sitting on this random bench from afar doing, I don't know, maybe they were on a date or something—"

"Darling, don't try and steer the topic here," Tom laughed. You stuck out your tongue at him—yes, very mature—his laughter only growing louder at your reaction.

"I'm a big fan of the Marvel movies, so obviously, I knew who he was. I was trying to keep my cool, you know, I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of him and thought I'll just ride pass, don't want to disturb whatever they had going on. But as soon as we got near to where they were sat, he looked towards my direction and we made eye contact—"

"The power I have," Tom crooned with a smug smile, earning a pointed eye-roll from you.

"Oh shut up. You know that wasn't the sole reason why I fell," you scoffed. "The chains on my bike went loose so I had no full control over it. We weren't going slowly as well because this friend of mine thought it was a good idea to one up each other so we kept going faster and faster, racing towards who knows what.

"So, my next option was to just plant my foot on the ground to stop it right? But as I've said, luck wasn't on my side that day. Before I could even do it, a rock went under the front wheel—which I didn't see given that I was distracted, you lot know why—and completely took me off balance and the bike went sideways real quick that I didn't have any time to react at all. And...did I roll a few times?" You turned to your boyfriend.

"Twice," he confirmed, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he tilted his head at you sweetly.

"Now, I don't see why you find this story adorable." You narrowed your eyes at your man.

"Not the actual accident, darling. It's what happened after that I found adorable. You were so cute being all shy and embarrassed," Tom defended with a pout. "And you know for a fact that whenever I see you with the smallest scrape or cut I panic and fuss over you immediately."

"You do. A bit too overdramatically," you giggled. It was a bit much sometimes how he worries but that's just Tom being the caring and overprotective boyfriend that he is. "Anyway, so yes, I rolled on the ground twice but all I remember was that I was already lying on my back, watching the sky while my knees, forearms up to my elbows and palms were burning. Then I saw Tom approaching and I swear I was just wishing that the ground would swallow me up right then and there," you finished.

"I quickly rushed to her aid, because you know, I'm Spider-Man," Tom added with a cocky shrugged, arms open wide as if to showcase himself.

There was a loud, collective groan from the lads which earned a laugh from you and a sound of pure protest from Tom.

"It's true!" he exclaimed. "Anyway, she then went, 'oh, my knight and shining armour, my handsome Prince Charming'," Tom gushed, voice at a higher pitch with the utmost exaggeration as he placed the back of his hand over his forehead. "And I went, 'don't worry princess, I'm here to save you,' and then we kissed and lived happily ever after," he concluded with the cheekiest smile.

"We remember this story very differently." You shook your head at him with a hearty laugh. This boy is always something else. "But fine, I'll give you the Prince Charming part because you did look like it.

"What you said was, 'miss, are you alright?' which was very formal of you, especially with the accent." You turned to the camera with a suggestive wiggle of your brows, making Tom drop his head shyly with a chuckle as his cheeks turned slightly pink. "And no, we didn't kiss. You don't kiss people you just met Thomas, get a hold of yourself. He helped me up and was kind enough to offer to take me to the hospital which wasn't needed since it was just a few cuts and scrapes but still insisted that I get checked. Who knew you'd be overprotective since day one," you laughed.

Tom shrugged with a chuckle. "We got to know each other while in the hospital and after she got cleaned up, I thought, I liked talking to her and I really don't want to say goodbye just yet. So, I invited her to lunch which she surprisingly said yes," he teased, sarcasm laced in his tone at his last sentence as he shot the camera a knowing and smug look. You kicked him lightly under the table, the action catching him off guard making him let out a yelp.

"It was more of me being polite because you helped and that. Didn't want to seem rude by saying no," you said, Tom gasping in full offense at your words. You let out a laugh as you rushed, "I'm kidding! Of course I wanted to go to lunch with you. It was impossible to say no because you've been really sweet and a real gentleman that day. And well, it was fun hanging out with you."

Tom smiled widely at that, nothing but pure love coating his features as he held your gaze, hand sneaking over to yours that was on the table and giving it a quick but loving squeeze.

"Where did Harrison go?" Harry wondered, the blonde boy suddenly turning silent and surely enough when you gave him a swift glance, he was already blushing.

"I had my friend with me, Tom had Harrison, you do the math," you said plainly, laughter laced in your tone.

"Oh, so you got some that day," Tuwaine chuckled, nudging the boy beside him with his elbow.

"Shut up, Tuwaine," Harrison grumbled, swatting away his friend lightly.

"But in conclusion, I am a superhero in real life," Tom stated proudly, swiping away the imaginary dust that was lying on his shoulder. He turned to the camera with a bright and wide smile. "But I do thank that bike every day."

"A bit sadistic but okay," you added, looking at Tom skeptically with a scrunch of your nose.

"No! I meant we wouldn't have gotten to know each other if that didn't happen," Tom rushed, lips turning into a pout when you only did nothing but laugh. "You're mean."

"You're just too adorable not to pick on," you giggled, his pout turning more prominent at your words.

You so badly wanted to get up off your seat and give him a proper kiss, but those things are always reserved privately. You two had never been big with public displays of affection, just the casual holding hands and occasional hugs. There are a few instances where you'll sneak a quick kiss while hanging out with friends but that's different compared to it being on tape for the whole world to see later on.

"Anyhow, what's the most embarrassing thing that you have done in front of me?" You asked back, your turn to grin wide because you know which story it was going to be, the way Tom's cheeks were quick to be dusted red was a clear indication that you were right.

"I'm smooth as hell, would never embarrass myself in front of a lady," he said casually, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back on his chair, all cool and suave.

"Oh shut up and tell the story," you said with a playful roll of your eyes, Tom letting out a shy chuckle before he leaned on the table.

"Right, it was our second date and I split my trousers open," he said, short and sweet, though his blush was already deepening because Tom knows the sharing won't stop there.

"Wait, how open?" Tuwaine asked.

"Like full on, centre to back, underwear and inner thighs with a bit of butt showing open. It would have been a bit better if I wore black pants—boxers to the American people—and black trousers right? But me being unlucky, I went for light-coloured denim jeans and black pants that day so it's fully obvious that I did ripped my trousers open," he chuckled shyly, hand going to rub at his shoulder, body slightly crouched as he refused to look away from his glass of gin.

"Go on Thomas, let's hear the full thing," you prodded, throwing his previous words right back at him.

He lifted his head up to shoot you a playful glare, though sat straighter anyway, elbows now on the table with his hands clasped together as he got ready to tell his story. "We were well underway our second date, a simpler one which was a walk in a somewhat less crowded park—"

"What's with you two and parks?" Harrison pointed out with a chuckle.

"Disaster just waiting to happen as you can tell," Tom laughed.

"We've steered clear from parks after all these incidents," you joked with a giggle.

"I did a flip and didn't land the right way was basically what happened," Tom continued, turning to the camera with a look of dismay. "We were walking by a couple of street dancers who were practicing a routine and they were doing all sorts of flips and tricks. She stopped walking completely and watched—wait, correction, stared at this certain bloke who was doing backflips—"

"I was not staring," you butted in. "I was just watching him do his thing and said how cool it was. And why are you making it seem like it's my fault?" you gasped, placing a hand over your heart, feign offence crossing your features.

"I'm not!" Tom laughed, hands up in surrender before he crossed his arms over his chest. "All I'm saying was that I was trying to impress you, which is why I offered to show you a flip. And as everyone in this room knows, I do the stupidest things when trying to impress a girl, especially when I like her that much."

"I was already impressed by you as is Tom, you didn't need to do a flip," you said as a matter of fact, small giggles escaping your lips as you looked at him with nothing but pure adoration. Tom felt his heart melt at the sight and more by your words. "And besides, I already knew you could do it. But somehow you felt the need to prove yourself after you saw me complimenting that dancer," you added.

"It's what you call ego, Tom," Harry laughed.

"Shut up, Harry." Tom shot his brother a glare though chuckled right after because it was in fact a bit true.

It was the silliest thing thinking back on it now, how he just said 'you want to see me do a flip?' out of the blue. You furrowed your brows at him in response, though your smile was laced with amusement. He just wanted to impress you as he'd said. And fine, maybe his ego got struck at teeny bit, and maybe he felt a little jealous that your attention got torn off of him because he truly did like you that much.

But at the end of the day, even though he had a little mishap, it all worked out so he wasn't at all complaining. "Anyway, so I did the flip, completely disregarding the fact that my shoes were slippy and my trousers were tight. I did land upright and not on my face this time so that's something," Tom chuckled. "But my right foot slipped so I was full on going on a wide split which I normally can't do since I am not flexible enough and proceeded to fall on my bum.

"The moment I heard the sound I instantly knew and just went, 'oh no' and remained on the ground because I didn't know what to do then. I was already embarrassed because I slipped, do I really want to tell her I tore open my trousers too?" Tom laughed timidly, the blush on his cheeks turning redder as he rubbed the back of his neck in utter embarrassment.

"I kind of knew right away though because I did hear something rip," you giggled. "He then just slowly stood up, hands behind, flat on his bum and said, 'I split my trousers open' in the smallest voice like a kid who's scared to tell their mum they fell or they'll get scolded. Plus his face was beet red, just like now." You pointed towards your boyfriend, who in turn stuck his tongue out at you as his blush turned into an even deeper shade of crimson.

"Thank God I wore a jacket that day and I was able to at least hide it until we got back to the car or else someone would've clocked it, took a picture, posted it on the internet and it would've made things much worse," Tom pointed out with a chuckle, glad that there was no paparazzi or it would've been a nightmare. "And the fact that you tried so hard not to laugh but still failed made me feel so embarrassed that I was quick to think that that was it. I ruined my chances, no more third date," he added as he turned to you with a small pout.

"I couldn't help laughing because it was the most adorable thing how you went from being all confident and cocksure on doing a flip to this shy boy who refused to look me in the eyes without turning even redder," you said, pure amusement laced in your tone. "But no, that incident made me like you more, it was just too endearing. Third date never left the table after that," you concluded with a sweet smile which only made Tom's grin grow wider.

"Even though she laughed, she was so sweet and kind about it. We had to cut our date shor—actually no, we didn't. We went back to your place and decided to do a movie marathon instead," Tom said fondly, face glowing with joy as the memory brought nothing but warmth across his chest.

"Yeah, with you wearing a pair of my sweatpants," you giggled, mirroring his expression as your mind recalled the sweet moment of you and him, simply cuddled up on the couch.

"And that's on getting the girl by splitting your trousers open," Tom said with a smug smile, pointing at the camera as he shot it a knowing look with a wriggle of his brows.

"And getting the boy by falling off a bike," you added, doing exactly what he did as you turned to face the lens.

"Look at us," Tom gushed, looking back at you with a smile, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. "Hey, look at us."

"Look at us. Who would've thought?" you giggled, giving his hand a squeeze in return.

You were always quick to catch on what he was trying to do that Tom couldn't help but smile widely, heart melting ten times over at the thought of you knowing him so well. "Not me," Tom chuckled, letting go of your hand and holding up his palm for a high-five to which you gladly obliged with laughs of your own.

"You two are made for each other," Harry chuckled with a shake of his head, now just getting that you two were recreating the famous Paul Rudd meme.

"My turn right?" Tom asked. You nodded with a hum as you pushed the pile of cards towards him. He let out a loud scoff once he read the question, his reaction making you raise a brow in both curiosity and slight dread. "Be honest," he said as he looked up from the paper, gaze landing on you. "Who do you love more, me," he paused for dramatic effect, narrowing his eyes at you before continuing, "Or Tessa?"

You let out a small groan as you hang your head low, fingers tracing the side of your cold glass. You let out a sigh of defeat before you met Tom's expectant gaze. "I can't possibly answer that question," you grumbled, bringing the glass up to your lips as you took a swift drink before placing it back down.

"That was such a tiny sip," Harrison pointed out.

"Alright, alright, I guess we can tell who the bad influence here is," you said with a teasing roll of your eyes, but still took another drink anyway, taking in more of it this time around. You just want to play the game fair and square. "You actually made that really well. It's really good," you hummed at Tom as you placed your drink back down, the lad grinning widely in response.

"Why thank you, darling," Tom crooned, voice smooth with a pride-filled smile, pushing over the pile of cards back in the middle of the table to get you to ask the next question.

"Okay, who wrote this?" You turned to the boys behind the camera with a raise of your brow. "If the alcohol wasn't going to do it, then this will definitely get the video restricted, unless you're going to bleep some words out?" You turned to Harry.

"I've got that covered," Harry laughed.

Glancing back at the card you had on hand, you asked, "If our sex life was porn, what genre would it be?" You looked up at Tom to see him try his best to hold back a smirk.

"Nope, not answering that," he laughed with a shake of his head as he lifted his glass off the table. "Mainly because there are too many genres that it would fit for me to only pick one," Tom muttered softly against his drink as he looked at you through his lashes. His words were muffled but you still heard it, you were closer to him after all. You felt your cheeks heat up at that, even more so when your man shot you a teasing wink before downing the shot of gin not long after.

Tom set his glass down and reached over to take another card. "What does your family think of me?" he asked with a clear of his throat.

"Well..." You slowly dragged your drink closer to you, Tom's mouth falling agape that you couldn't help but burst into a hearty laugh. "I'm kidding! You already know how much they love you," you said. "I mean, my parents call him 'son' so." You shrugged as you turned to the camera. Tom puffed out his chest all proud with a very smug smile on his lips. You rolled your eyes, sighing as you added, "They probably even love you more than they love me."

Tom chuckled, "My family loves you more than they love me, too—"

"I can vouch for that," Harry intervened.

"Thanks, Harry," Tom said sarcastically, flashing his brother a forced smile. Turning back to you, he finished, "So, I guess we're even."

You could only nod with a soft giggle, reaching over to the stack of cards to keep the pace going. "Lads! What's with these kinds of questio—you know what, I don't even expect any less from you guys," you sighed, pursing your lips as you re-read the question again before sitting straight up and looked into Tom's eyes. "What would you do if you caught me watching porn?" you asked.

"Watch it with you and help get it done, duh?" he answered without hesitation, leaning back on his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Have done a couple times actually," Tom murmured, somewhat to himself, though not really since everyone in the room—and pretty sure the camera—heard it.

"Tom!" you hissed.

You felt your body tingle, legs instinctively closing together as the countless moments it happened replayed itself inside your brain. Although what he said wasn't false, it wasn't the full truth either. He didn't exactly catch you red handed, never did since you don't watch porn often.

All you did was asked him—merely out of curiosity—what type he mostly watches. Your question sparked an idea in his head which led to you sitting in between his legs, bare back against his naked chest as the laptop sat right in front of you both with the video of his choice.

Tom then made his way with you while you watched, making sure you never take your eyes off the couple on screen or else. He was always fully in control over you every time you do it, his fingers sometimes delicate, mostly rough, touch hot and heavy all over your skin, lips warm on your neck, teeth sharp against your bare shoulder as he brings you to the edge over and over and over with nothing but his hands. And once the video ends, Tom will take it upon himself to re-enact the whole of it with you—if you could still take it of course—bringing what was on screen to real life, full recreation from start to finish.

Best believed you're properly blissed out at the stop of every play.

Your boyfriend's eyes widened once he realized the actual volume of his voice, face turning a deep shade of red, sitting straight abruptly as he rushed, "No! Wait—dammit." Tom casted his eyes down shyly when the boys let out exaggerated gasps and sounds of disapproval, a telltale sign that they already heard it. "I'm sorry, darling." He met your gaze again as he shot you a sheepish smile, his head tilted to the side guiltily to which you only responded with a shake of your head.

Typical Thomas.

"Bleurgh, too much info," Harrison gagged, the other boys following suit with their own sounds of repulsion.

"Oh fuck off you divs. You guys wrote the questions so obviously, you wanted to find out," Tom countered, shooting the lads a glare each.

"We didn't expect you to actually answer it!" Harry defended.

"We're cutting that whole part out, no way that's going up online," you grumbled, eyes staring at nothing but your drink as you tried to hide the obvious embarrassment that's coated your features.

Tom reached across the table to give your hand a squeeze, you meeting his gaze to see him mouth a gentle 'I'm sorry.' You flashed him a sweet smile, squeezing his hand in return to tell him that it was alright. It wasn't live so there wasn't any real harm done, aside from future jokes from the boys. That you can deal with than having that confidential information on the internet which will then follow you around for the rest of eternity.

Letting go of your hand, Tom sat straighter and turned to the camera. "If you guys are wondering why there's a jump cut and my face is suddenly so red, it's because I spilled something I shouldn't have that we had to cut it out. And no, it's something you'll never find out," he chuckled shyly, knowing that once the video goes out, fans are going to be so annoyed and will pester him—and everyone in the room—nonstop to try and find out what was cut.

Better that, than embarrassing you in front of millions though, so he'll deal with them no problem. Because as promised, if you weren't comfortable with it staying in the video, then it gets cut out, no questions asked. You and what you're comfortable with always come first in Tom's book.

"Yet again, thank God we didn't do this live," you muttered with a playful roll of your eyes.

Tom shot you one last apologetic smile before he cleared his throat, "Right, moving on." He shifted in his seat and took another card from the pile. "What's the one thing you'd change about me?" he asked.

"Your height," you answered without missing a beat. You chewed on your lip to suppress a grin but still failed miserably, especially when Tom looked at you with his jaw hanging and his eyes wide open.

A chorus of 'ooh's erupted from the boys which only prompted a laugh from you, the joyous sound growing louder when they started to rub it to Tom even more.

"Pfft, apply ice on the burnt area," Harry said as he blew out his cheeks.

"Mate, she's just bodied you with that," Tuwaine tutted at Tom, rising up from his seat soon after to offer you a high-five. You gladly obliged with a laugh, Tom gawking at you with utmost betrayal on his face.

"You're lucky you're very cute, especially when you laugh," Tom grumbled as he shot you a playful glare. The crinkles on the corner of your eyes deepened as you only smiled brightly at him with a tilt of your head, which honestly made you look even more endearing. He could never be mad at you, too whipped to hold a grudge no matter how much you tease him. And besides, that's all there is to it, nothing but teasing jokes and banter.

"If I were you, Tom, I'd start taking those growth pills before she starts to question why she's even with you," Harrison proposed jokingly which earned boisterous laughter from the rest of the gang.

"You lot are so fucking overdramatic. I'm not that short," Tom quipped with a roll of his eyes, gaze landing back on you with his famous pout now in play yet again. "And babe, it's a truth or drink video, not a roast me video," he stated, palms flat on cool marble as he looked at you with puppy-dog eyes.

"I'm joking! I'm joking," you rushed with a giggle. "I wouldn't change a single thing. You know I love you, just the way you are," you sang the last line, though your voice held nothing but sincerity as you reached over to give his hand a loving squeeze. Tom nodded with a sigh, though never did he doubt your words, knowing it deep in his bones that physical traits would never outweigh how much you love him, no matter what.

"Right, let's keep this going," you said as you took another card. "Who is smarter, me or you?" you asked.

"Me," Tom said proudly.

"Well, that's a lie," you objected.

Tom couldn't help but laugh at that, nodding at you as he chuckled, "It's you, obviously. Have you seen the last video?"

"Hmm, I don't know, I think Tom's smarter. I mean, you decided to date him, Y/N, which isn't exactly the brightest decision," Harry inferred, earning a loud gasp from his older brother.

"Excellent point," you agreed, your boyfriend's head whipping towards your direction with nothing but absolute offense written on his face.

"Babe! You're supposed to be on my side!" Tom exclaimed. "Why are we roasting me all of a sudden?" he complained.

"You're just too fun to pick on," you laughed, Tom's bottom lip jutting out at your words. "Especially when you do that, too cute," you pointed out, the apples of Tom's cheek turning pink as a smile grew on his lips at the compliment. "But I am smarter," you concluded, shooting the camera a wink.

"Will not refute," Tom chuckled, keeping the flow of the game as he took another card. "If you weren't with me, who of my brothers would you consider dating?" he said, voice pitching higher at the last few words. A look of downright disgust covered Tom's face immediately as he looked at the boys behind the camera who were snickering like the mischievous little shits that they are. "You lot are grim."

You matched Tom's expression, scrunching your nose as you shook your head quickly. Having been with Tom long enough, you now see the three of the Holland boys as your own brothers, so the mere thought of dating any of them is just—

"I'm not even going to think about it," you grumbled as you took a sip of your cocktail and then picked a card right away. "Who's the celebrity who you were the most disappointed with when you met them?" you continued swiftly, a smile on your lips as you looked at Tom who let out a sigh.

"You know I can't answer that," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, your smile growing wider as you picked up the bottle of gin and refilled his glass. "Thank you, darling," he chuckled with a shake of his head, taking a drink right after.

"Is there anyone in my friend group, famous or not, that you do not like?" Tom continued with a raise of his brow, gaze steady on you.

You emptied your glass—that was still half full—without a single word and placed it back down with a small burp. "Oh, excuse me," you cleared your throat with a laugh.

Tom's brows furrowed at you in mere curiosity, gesturing for your glass so he can remake you another drink. You slid it over to him with a soft 'thank you' and a sweet smile. He started opening up the bottle of juice though his eyes were still on you, narrowed in pure skepticism.

"Who?"

"Not part of the question, Tom," you said, flashing him an innocent smile

"I know who it is," Harry coughed fakely.

"Me too," Tuwaine added with a fake cough of his own.

"It's Harrison because he's trying to take you away from me," you commented, laughing at how the blonde lad gasped in utter protest.

"That's a lie because I know who it is too," Harrison defended.

"So, everyone knows except me?" Tom mused, rolling his eyes in the process.

"What else is new?" you giggled with a shrugged, Tom only sighing as he shot you yet another pout. This boy never ceases to use it since he knows you always swoon whenever he does. 'I'll tell you later,' you mouthed, making him nod with a proud smile.

You gently leaned back on your seat, closing your eyes when you felt a little woozy. You took in slow, deep breaths, the marble cold against your palms as your body started to grow warmer from head to toe.

Maybe downing that drink wasn't the best idea.

"You okay, darling?" Tom asked sweetly, tilting his head at you in worry as he went to take your hand in his. His brows knitted together when your skin felt unusually warm in his palms.

"Yeah," you giggled, opening your eyes to meet his concern-filled brown ones, flashing him a reassuring smile and a nod to match as you gave his hand a squeeze. "Just the alcohol slowly kicking in."

"Want to take a minute, sweetheart?"

"No, I'm good. Go on and ask the question bubba," you prompted as you beamed at him, Tom's heart melting at the beautiful curve on your features and more by the sound of that sweet nickname. Although, he knew that you'd reached your calm before the storm.

You're always smiley and extra sweet when you start to get a little tipsy. But from here on out, especially if you decide to take even more alcohol, you start switching from calm to giddily energetic. That's when the words would start flowing out your lips before your brain could even register what you've just said.

Tom replaced your hand with a white card once he was sure you were fine. A cheeky grin erupted on his face as he asked, "What's your favourite sex position?"

You pursed your lips, eyes landing on the ceiling, fingers drumming on the marble surface of the table as you pondered on it for a second. Tom watched you intently, a soft chuckle escaping him when you met his gaze again with a sweet yet shy smile.

"I've got three though," you said, mostly to him but in a not-so-hush tone. Your mind and your mouth don't cooperate sometimes when there's alcohol in the mix.

"Different one for a different mood," Tom hummed with a smirk, finishing up your drink with a squeeze of lime, mixing it up before sliding it back towards you. "Just say one or take a drink, darling."

"I need to slow down with drinking or else I'll be saying much worse things. I can already feel my filter shutting down," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as you gazed at Tom for a bit of help. "But do I really want this out in the world?"

"Oh, go on Y/N, live a little," Harrison prodded with nothing but utter mischief in his eyes.

You don't know why but somehow, Harrison words were the last straw for that burst of confidence to suddenly overflow. Boldness coated your every nerve as you squeezed your eyes shut and straight up blurted,

"Doggy."

Tom's eyes grew wide, both of his brows rising as he looked at you surprised. Yes, doggy was one of your—and his—favourites, he already knew that, what surprised him was you actually saying it out loud. Although he was swift to turn cocky as he leaned back on his seat, arms crossed over his chest while he kept his gaze steady on you.

As you peaked one eye, you saw that certain smirk of his now playing on his pink lips, one you only ever see privately. You felt your face heat up at that, added from the alcohol and embarrassment. The warmth was quick to spread to the rest of your body though, with the way he was looking at you, it was so hard for it not too. And as your eyes fully soaked him in, gaze traveling from his handsome face sporting that teasing smirk to his bulging biceps, the temperature could only rise. Your senses was now somewhat heightened that you were able to notice every single thing that made your man so fucking attractive and downright hot.

Since when did his hoodie grow even tighter? And damn, why is it so hot all of a sudden? It's probably the alcohol, or mainly just Tom, or simply both.

"Favourite type of porn!" you hear someone from the gang call out—probably Harrison since he's been causing trouble from the very start—interrupting your thoughts. With the alcohol in your system, just as expected, your brain genuinely forgot to take control of your tongue before you could even tell yourself: 'don't!'

"Sometimes hardcore," you let out, slapping your hand over your mouth immediately as your eyes grew wide. You quickly met Tom's eyes, his brown orbs glowing with shock, amusement and a sprinkle of lust. He gave you a soft nod with a soft smile in response, confirming that yes, you said it out loud, and yes it was already too late. "Oh no, this was what I meant when I needed to slow down on alcohol," you groaned, rubbing your hand over your warm face before looking back across your man with a pout.

"Aye! Hardcore doggy yeah?" Harrison cheered teasingly, moving towards Tom and giving his best friend a pat on the shoulder. Tom threw his head back with a laugh, face red but the look of utmost pride was also there. Harrison swiftly offered his fist to Tom, to which the brunette gladly indulged, their knuckles colliding as chuckles escaped the two mates.

You let out a choked laugh as your eyes widened in surprise, jaw going slack with your face heating up even more. "Did you guys just fist bump to that?"

"I mean." Tom shrugged, throwing his hands up with the smuggest grin, causing you to shake your head dejectedly with a groan. You shot Harrison a pointed glare when he went back to his seat, still snickering to his heart's content as if his master plan was in the works.

What a little shit.

"I'm definitely not going to let my parents watch this video," you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.

"I've got a question for Tom though," Tuwaine started, though the glimmer in his eyes told you it wasn't a clean one. "Do you grab it or do you smack it?"

Tom wheezed before erupting into a very rowdy laugh, hands slapping on his thigh as his body shook in nothing but pure enjoyment, his face red from a mixture of embarrassment, glee and the alcohol.

"Oh my—right! Next question!" you squeaked, not giving your boyfriend any time to answer as you attempted to swiftly move on.

"Wait, wait," Tom breathed out as he slowly calmed down, getting up from his seat as he went over to your side. "Harry stop recording for a sec," he called out to his younger brother before he gestured for you to turn until your back was facing the camera.

Tom crouched down in front of you, hands on your knees with a sweet, reassuring smile on his lips. "We'll edit out the parts you're not comfortable with to stay in the vid, alright?" he stated softly.

You nodded with a smile of your own, taking his hand in yours as you played with his fingers. "I'm not opposed to keeping the last two questions since everyone has their favourite position and type of porn. It's normal," you hummed, tilting your head at him as you added, "You saying you've helped me with, you know, that was much more private though, 'cause it's our thing."

"I know, I'm sorry, love," Tom apologized, voice soft but coated with sincerity as his hand went up to cup your face lovingly, brown eyes gazing up into yours with just the same emotions. "We're cutting that part out, I promise."

"But you think your fans would take these questions well?" you queried, leaning into his touch in a way that made Tom's heart do flips inside his chest.

He nodded. "Yeah, I think it's fine. The video is going to be age restricted anyway. And besides, we're both adults, so there's nothing wrong with it," he explained. You hummed in agreement, leaning your head on his hand as you closed your eyes with a soft sigh, your skin very warm against his palm. Tom moved closer to give your lips a sweet peck. "Want some water angel?"

"No, I'm good." You smiled, Tom nodding as he mirrored your grin, giving your lips another kiss before he stood back to his full height and then sat back on his seat.

Shooting Harry the go signal to start recording again, Tom chuckled, "Sorry, needed to cool down for a sec after that." He turned towards the camera, tugging at the collar of his hoodie as he blew out his cheeks to get a point across.

You could only roll your eyes at your man, his laugh growing louder at your reaction. Swiftly taking a card from the pile, you continued with the game. "Is this going to be the theme from here on out, lads?" you asked, eyeing the boys behind the camera suspiciously before you turned back to Tom. "Is there something in the bedroom you'd like to try that you haven't told me?"

Tom's cheeks turned even redder at the question, completely shying away now as his hand went to rub at his shoulder. "I can't think of one right now," he muttered as he looked at you sheepishly. "But no, I'm not answering that since we talk about that off camera anyway," Tom settled with a timid chuckle, refilling his glass and taking a drink of the gin soon after.

"Your turn," you giggled, pushing the pile towards him.

"Oh, okay. What a way to shift the topic," Tom breathed out, scanning the card one more time as he sat up straighter. "If I was in a coma how long would you wait for me?" he asked, meeting your gaze with a tender smile.

"I'll keep waiting for you until you wake up, no matter how long," you answered, without even a single inch of doubt, despite the slight shake in your voice as your eyes started to well up. "Never giving up on you."

"Darling," Tom cooed softly with a pout, the screeching sound of his chair echoing around the space as he pushed his seat back. He went back over to your side quickly, remaining on his feet as he leaned down to engulf you in a tight and warm embrace, swaying you side to side in the most comforting way as he whispered sweet nothings against your hair.

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath, the material of his hoodie soft against your cheek. You willed your brain not to think much of it, to not dwell on that thought and focus more on the Tom's warmth that's coated you right now. Or else you'll end up a bawling mess, and with the alcohol in your system, it's not a good idea to start crying now.

Your man pulled away gently with a charming smile, cupping your face with both hands as he towered over your seated form. "I'd do the exact same, just so you know," he hummed, brown eyes locked with yours, his thumbs caressing your cheeks fondly before he dipped his head to capture your lips in a loving kiss. You let out a sweet sigh as you melt at the feeling of his soft lips on yours, mind and heart at ease at familiar warmth. The gesture wasn't fully caught on camera though given that you were turned at the opposite direction.

"I love you," you hummed against his lips.

Tom chuckled sweetly, giving you a few more pecks on the lips before pulling away completely, staring right into your eyes as he whispered, "And I love you."

With that he went back to his seat again, flashing you one of his many charming grins before he turned to the group behind the camera.

"You lot are onto something I can tell," Tom said as he raised a brow at the lads who suspiciously grew quiet, looking everywhere in the room but at you two.

Not thinking much of it, you swiftly took another card and read the question. "What would you do if you suddenly get a call that I was gone?" you trailed off at the end of your sentence, brows knitting together as you turned to the group behind the camera. "Guys, this is a cruel question."

"Oh," Tom faltered, smile slowly slipping away from his face as he casted his eyes at his drink.

"Tom, you don't have to answer it," you called out softly, frown deep on your lips as you reached over to take both his hands in yours. But it was already too late when he squeezed your hand tightly, lifting his head back up to meet your gaze and you felt your heart ache. That's when you saw that his mind was already there, brown orbs glossed up as he let out a shaky breath.

"I'd literally shut down," he croaked. "I-I don't know what'd I do if that happens. I just can't imagine my life without you. I—" he stopped, head dropping as his voice broke.

"Oh Tom, come here," you cooed as you immediately got out of your seat and rounded the table, turning him around and away from shot for a bit of privacy. You squatted in between his legs that were spread apart to be much closer to him, gently cupping his face with both your hands so that you were now within eye level. "Hey, look at me," you whispered when you were met by eyes that were screwed shut.

With a deep intake of breath, Tom willed his eyes to open. He looked at you with a small smile playing on his lips, heart steadying at the sight of your beautiful orbs boring into his own. He leaned forward to close the distance between you two, just so he could feel your lips on his. Tom badly needed to. A soft satisfied sigh erupted out your chest as your hand took home on his warm cheek.

"I'm still here bubba. I'm not going anywhere," you hummed against his lips before giving him warm kisses all over his face that made him stifle out a small laugh. You pulled away a little with a loving smile, wiping away the few tears that sat on his skin with your thumb, your touch gentle and warm.

"I love you so much, you know that?" Tom whispered as he looked at you fondly, nudging the tip of his nose with yours in a wholesome manner.

"I love you too, you sweet, soft boy," you giggled, placing a sweet peck on his lips before pulling him in for a hug. You lifted your head up to shoot each of the boys a sharp glare, the three cowering away in their seats as they each said their soft apologies.

Pulling away with a smile, you cupped Tom's face with a hum, "Better?"

"Loads," Tom sighed with a sweet smile, leaning in for one last peck before he lets you go back to your seat. "You purposely put that in there to make me cry didn't you?" Tom spoke, narrowing his eyes at boys who only shrugged in feign innocence. "You lot are evil I tell you."

"Now let's get back on a lighter note!" you exclaimed, pushing the cards towards Tom since it was his turn to ask.

Tom pursed his lips as his brows furrowed at the question. "If you could sleep with any person in the world, who would it be?" he wondered, eyes locking with yours in warning. "Now, careful with your answer, love," he hummed.

"Is that a threat Holland?" you challenged with a raise of your brow.

"I'm just saying, I may already know or will meet this person in the futur—"

"Chris Hemsworth," you blurted, Tom's mouth falling open as he gawked at you in shock. "I'm kidding," you rushed with a hearty laugh.

"Are you though?" Tom doubted, squinting at you suspiciously.

You bit your bottom lip as you held his gaze, Tom letting out a loud gasp when you suddenly took a drink all while maintaining eye contact with him.

"I'm going to have a word with you later missy," he grumbled, voice suddenly an octave deeper, somewhat a soft growl, one that you felt down to your core.

You shifted in your seat with a clear of your throat, shooting him an innocent smile as you said, "To be fair, you did say—publicly may I add—that you'd sleep with Hemsworth too when you did fuck, marry and kill with the three Chrises so, roll the clip!"

Tom shook his head at you with a playful roll of his eyes. "Touché," he sighed, brows furrowed in confusion when you suddenly covered your mouth.

"Oops, I just realized I said the F-word, sorry Harry," you said meekly, a certain smile on your lips which guaranteed that you were now dancing onto drunken territory. Tom knows you like the back of his hand, if the way you were smiling wasn't enough then, the simple look in your eyes would let him know that the alcohol has fully hit you this time.

"It's alright. One bleep word is nothing compared to last week's video. And it's not like this video has been clean anyway," the young twin chuckled.

"So, Fuck Hemsworth, who are you marrying and who are you killing?" Tuwaine asked.

"Marry Evans, Kill Pratt," you answered promptly.

Tom leaned back on his seat as he crossed his arms over his chest, running his tongue over his teeth slowly all while staring you down. "That's a quick answer Y/N," he hummed, shooting you a teasing glare.

"Oh please, yours was quick too, Thomas," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest as you mirrored him, never backing down from his stare even though it was making you feel certain things.

"Wait, if you're marrying Evans and killing Pratt, and I'm marrying Pratt and killing Evans, does that mean we're set out to kill each other's husband?" Tom started as he leaned forward and towards the table.

"So, if you were successful in killing Evans, and I was successful in killing Pratt, that means we're both widowed," you continued, laying your hands now flat on the marble surface.

"Meaning there's still a chance that we will still end up together. Meant to be if you ask me," Tom concluded, lifting up a hand.

You moved forward to give him a high-five, missing his hand by a lot which made you let out a loud, hearty laugh, Tom following suit with laughs of his own.

"What are you two on?" Harrison said with a crinkle of his nose.

"Alcohol," you and Tom answered at the same time. Both of your mouths turned into the shape of O's as you looked at each other properly delighted.

"Jinx!" both of you exclaimed in unison. "Jinx again!"

"Our mental synchronization; can have but one explanation," you and Tom sang in harmony, never breaking your gaze as you both smiled proudly.

"You—"

"And I—"

"Were—"

"Just—"

"Meant to be!" You two ended with fits of laughter, raising your hands to go for another high five. You missed Tom's hand again which only made you wheeze, tears of joy brimming in yours and his eyes as you tried for the second time, both of you cheering loudly when it finally landed.

"Cringe, really made for each other," Harry gagged teasingly with a grimace to match.

And then Harrison intervened. "How about fuck, marry, kill, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Felton and," he paused, grin turning wider like a Cheshire cat as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. "Tom Holland?"

"That's not part of the game," you protested with a pout.

"Answer the question, darling," Tom encouraged, looking at you expectantly.

"I'm taking a shot," you muttered, going for your drink but before you could even do so, Tom had already taken it far away from your reach. "Hey!" you whined.

Tom chuckled softly as he shook his head no. "You said it's not part of the game so no, you have to answer," he said. "And that's enough alcohol for you, my love," he cooed, tilting his head at you knowingly with a sweet smile. If Tom will let you continue with the drinking then you'll surely be complaining nonstop about the throbbing headache you'll get and the constant nausea after all this.

You sat back on your chair with your bottom lip jutted out, arms crossed over your chest to match, much like a child as you started to think about your answer. Although the process took way longer than you'd expect it to be and the boys were quick to notice.

"Uh oh, she's having a hard time," Harry teased when a few long seconds has gone by and you still haven't given an answer.

"I don't know how I feel about the hesitation here," Tom admitted as he looked at you curiously, brows furrowing with a chuckle when you were still deep in thought after a few seconds more.

"She genuinely is having a hard time," Tuwaine laughed.

"This is so unfair," you grumbled dejectedly as you looked at your man with a sweet, adorable pout, silently asking for help.

"What'd you do with me first to make things easier," Tom offered with a chuckle.

As if there was a hidden message to his words—there wasn't—your face suddenly lit up, slapping your palms on the table excitedly as you sat straighter. "You know what, kill the other two and I'll fuck and marry you," you declared heartily, eyes locked securely with Tom's with the proudest grin playing on your lips.

Tom's heart did somersaults at the mere fact of you wanting to marry him, grin wide and bright as he stared into your orbs, utmost love glowing in yours that was wholesomely mirrored by his brown ones.

It wasn't long until Tom felt his blood rush down though, heat dancing on his skin as his brain got occupied with the thought of you fucking him too. Certain memories flooded his mind, one after the other that it was getting harder for him to stay calm in his seat.

You are honestly giving him a whiplash with how you make him feel one emotion to another in a span of seconds, though Tom wasn't at all complaining.

"That's not how the game works!" Harrison exclaimed.

"I'm pretty happy with that answer," Tom shrugged with a wide, cocky grin, eyes never leaving yours as he raised a brow at you suggestively. You held his gaze with a tilt of your head, bottom lip caught between your teeth to try and stop your smile from growing.

The interaction didn't go unnoticed by Harry though. "Okay, stop eye-fucking each other you horny teenagers," the younger brother complained.

Tom laughed at that, shifting in his seat as he turned towards the camera. "On that note, we're ending the video there. This has been Tom Holland," he paused, giving you a nod as a cue.

"And Mrs. Holland," you blurted at the camera with a smile, eyes widening once you realised the choice of words you've just used. "Oh wait! No! Fuc—I don't mean no as in 'no,' I meant not yet," you fumbled. "We're not even engaged yet! Don't start with the headlines you." You pointed at the camera in warning.

He shook his head with a chuckle, red tinting his cheeks but pure admiration glowed in his eyes. "You own my fucking heart, you know that? You make me melt all the damn time," Tom gushed through gritted teeth, and it was taking a whole lot of his self-control to not jump over the table and just kiss you senseless. You felt your heart grow at his words but you could only bury your face in your hands with a groan of pure embarrassment. "She's drunk, my apologies," Tom added with a laugh as he turned towards the camera.

"Tipsy, there's a difference," you corrected as you shot him a glare.

Tom chuckled, smiling at you widely before turning back to the lens. "Anyway, see you on the next one and peace!" he finished with the sign and then a salute, Harry throwing out an upturned thumb to signal cut.

Once he saw that the camera was off, Tom was out of his seat in record speed, moving over to your now standing form as he swiftly wrapped both his arms around your waist and crashed his lips onto yours with a low groan. His arms tightened around you as he relished the feeling of finally having you so close.

You giggled against the kiss, resting your arms over his shoulders as you leaned back on the table to keep your balance, your bum half-rested on the marble while your foot stayed steady on the floor, legs apart so that Tom can situate himself between them easily.

"So, fuck and marry me huh?" Tom hummed deeply against your mouth, playfully nibbling at your bottom lip before pulling away so he can see your gorgeous face fully.

"Out of all the things I've said, that's what stuck with you?" you giggled with a shake of your head.

"I mean, you fucking me will never fail to sound very hot, reminds me of the few times you did." Tom wriggled his brows at you suggestively, hands giving your waist as teasing squeeze. "Though I don't know which one's hotter, that or you marrying me," he said with the proudest smirk.

"Will you two take this somewhere else?" Harry complained, always the last one to be left in the room given that he's mostly in-charge with taking care of the camera. Harrison and Tuwaine were already gone, continuing whatever they had to do that day.

"Don't think that would make a difference though," Tom chuckled smugly, looking back at you with a knowing grin.

"Which reminds me how we need to sound proof the fucking walls you nasty rabbits."

"I was kidding. We're not that loud fuck off," Tom remarked, rolling his eyes at his brother.

And to prove how wrong Tom's point was, Harrison suddenly started moaning so piercingly right in the next room, his voice a bit muffled but you can still hear him, loud and obnoxious.

"Fuck! Love! Fuck yes! Just like that, darling! Shit baby I'm gonna—"

"Fuck off Harrison you fucking twat!" Tom yelled at the top of his lungs, the blonde lad's boisterous and annoying laugh echoing soon after.

Tom turned crimson red as the embarrassment coated him from head to toe, head dropping for him to hide his face on the crook of your neck with a groan. You let out a soft giggle, hand landing on the back of his head as you ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly. Your face was warm as you were embarrassed just the same, although there was more of a sense of pride on your behalf because yes, Tom does get a bit loud sometimes, all courtesy to you.

It wasn't always of course, both of you aren't evil enough to torture the lads that much. Aside from the fact that Tom is rarely even home—meaning you don't do the deed that much in this house—the two of you had made a pact to make sure that you're completely alone before properly going at it. Admittedly, it does get a bit hard to keep the noise down sometimes, so the boys have to endure it every now and then. They do get back at you guys soon after as they are quick to be little shits with the teasing and dirty jokes, much like now.

"Maybe we do need to soundproof our walls," you teased once your man pulled away to look at you with a soft sigh, hands running up and down your waist sweetly.

"Or we could finally look for our own place to move in?" Tom proposed with a charming smile, your heart melting at the sight and skipping a beat at his words.

Granted, you've been with Tom for a fair three and a half years already, but neither of you had gone to take that step of actually living fully on your own where it's just no one but him and you in your own home. You've been living in this house for roughly the same time—maybe a year or two less—and you've got no problem living with the lads, you consider them as your brothers now. But you won't deny that having a place exclusively for you and Tom only would be pure bliss.

Of course you've talked about getting your own place and neither of you were opposed to it. It all just came down to Tom being constantly busy and barely even home. You'd rather live with the boys for the mean time than sulk all alone in a house while slowly being buried in the emotions of missing your boyfriend.

Tom also wanted to be there for the most of it—choosing and buying furniture, decorating a thing or two, moving, the likes—but with his schedule, it was hard to find the perfect time.

But now he's promised you that he'd slow down for a bit.

He genuinely hasn't done anything but work nonstop. It was just projects upon projects with only so little breaks in between, a month if he's lucky. Tom is one hardworking man, that's one of the many things you love about him, but he sometimes doesn't realize when he's pushing himself too far.

That's when you step in.

You'd encouraged him to take a breather, even if it's just for half a year or so but you never did pester him about it constantly as you weren't one to take him away from doing what he loves. Unless it gets way out of hand, then that's when you'll be putting your foot down. You know he'll do it whenever he's ready to slow down and now with most of his projects wrapped, he's finally decided that it was the right time to take that much needed break.

"I love the sound of that," you giggled, treading your fingers through his hair before tracing it down his chiseled jaw. "Not as much as I love the sound of you moaning though," you hummed teasingly.

"Well then, let's find our own place so you can hear me moan all for you and as loud as you want, darling," Tom purred lowly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as his darkened orbs bored into yours, his hands sliding down to rest on the swell of your bum. He fondled the flesh hotly as he started to lean closer to capture your lips. But before Tom could even do so a loud voice made you both jump away from each other.

"For fuck's sake guys! I'm still fucking here!" Harry yelled, throwing both his hands in the air in downright annoyance and disgust as he screwed his eyes shut. "Go to your fucking room for the love of my sanity!"

You didn't even get a chance to apologise to the young lad as Tom swiftly grabbed your hand and rushed to your shared bedroom.

Nothing happened though apart from a couple minutes of making out, Tom deciding not to take it further given that you were all tipsy and intoxicated. Him deciding since you were persistent on saying you were fine even though you were giggling nonstop, easily tickled no matter how feather-like his kisses were. Not to mention how you could barely even keep your eyes open. So, both of you ended up taking a warm bath and then a nap right after that, instead.

Although the minute you sobered up, Tom made sure you weren't at all quiet this time around. It was due to the pent up tension that's been building since that somewhat steamy Q&A. And maybe, just maybe to get back at the boys a teeny bit for being little shits with both the teasing jokes and the dirty questions.

The two of you went out of your bedroom only at dinner time, stepping foot in the dining area where Harry, Tuwaine and Harrison were all situated. You felt the embarrassment coat every inch of your body when you took sight of the boys, more specifically, their expressions. Tom, on the other hand, had the cockiest smirk playing on his lips as he held his head high, tauntingly chuckling at his mates.

The three lads were sitting around the table with nothing but grimaces and downright disgust on their faces as they all grumbled in unison,

"Rabbits."

-:-:-:-:-

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[thishintoflove]

“I Think He Knows” - A Kingsman Fanfic

TSwift Songfic Week Day 5

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x M!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Explicit (Pining, dirty talk, hand jobs, oral sex)

A/N: I feel like there’s a lack of M/M in the Pedro cinematic universe fandom, so here’s some bisexual Whiskey having a good time with a fellow male agent.

Summary: You and Agent Whiskey are paired together for an out-of-state mission. On your last night, your pining and his flirting finally come to a head.

I think he knows his hands around

A cold glass

Make me wanna know that body

Like it's mine

The mission was long but you were finally finished with it. Three weeks in Dallas were more than enough for you, and you were looking forward to getting home to your own bed and your own office in Kentucky. You were aching for the privacy it offered, after spending almost a month sharing a hotel room with your fellow agent. This time you’d been paired up with Agent Whiskey, and because of that you were glad the trip was almost over.

It’s not because Agent Whiskey- Jack - was incapable. Quite the opposite. He was extremely efficient and good at his job but he was also… extremely attractive. Which was a huge distraction.

You took pride in being a capable agent but Jack and his pretty face compromised that. You’ve never been in a situation like this before. Lusting over your coworker felt extremely unprofessional, but it was impossible to ignore him. He was an in-your-face kind of guy, always butting in with a comment or joke, always using his body as a weapon. He’d lounge around your shared hotel room in nothing but a thin towel, his wet hair draped across his forehead, and you swear he did it on purpose. The man knew how attractive he was and he obviously loved flaunting it.

He was tall and tan, with soft brown hair, a pair of beautiful round eyes that seemed to sparkle with amusement, and a smile that made your knees weak. The downside was that his smile made just about everyone weak. You were living in your own personal hell. Every single day having to watch Jack be attractive without even trying, and then watch as everyone in his vicinity tried to flirt with him. Tonight he was wearing a black leather jacket and extremely tight jeans, looking more like a movie star than an undercover agent. The man could pull off anything. It’s actually unfair.

You were out at some dive bar, celebrating the end to a successful mission before flying home tomorrow. It was Jack’s idea of course, but you’d agreed because you needed a stiff drink after these three long weeks and honestly you couldn’t say no to him.

“Another round, kid?”

You glanced up and saw him staring at you, a twinkle in his bright eyes. His hand gripped his empty whiskey glass and you eyed your own half-full drink. You couldn’t throw it back like him.

“I’m good for now,” you answered.

He nodded and slapped you on the shoulder as he stood up, “I’ll get you another one anyway. You better finish that by the time I get back.”

You sighed as you watched him walk away. His ass looked fantastic in those jeans. All the training and harsh exercise routines that Champ put the team through really worked for him. No wonder he could get any pretty thing he wanted.

Speaking of which, he seemed to have turned his affections on someone else. You groaned, your eyes never wavering from where Jack stood. He was currently making small talk with the pretty brunette bartender. He was giving her the full Whiskey treatment- gazing at her with those soft, mocha-colored puppy dog eyes and giving her a charming half-grin. Watching him flirt was simultaneously entertaining and torturous. He threw his head back, laughing at some dumb joke the bartender must have said, and you almost growled out loud as you hungrily stared at his neck.

Stupid horny bastard.

He got that boyish look that I like in a man

I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans

It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands

No one understands

You were getting really sick of hiding your partial hard-ons and jacking off in the cold shower, but everything the man did was hot. The deep voice and accent alone were enough to get you going on most days. God, you hadn’t felt like this since high school.

If Jack noticed you staring or caught on to the fact that you took extra long showers, he didn’t say anything. You were openly out at the agency and your sexuality wasn’t a secret. When you first joined the Statesmen, you felt you had something to prove at work, as if you had to demonstrate your masculinity by keeping up with the largest members of the team. But you’ve excelled in your role for years now and you were beyond proving yourself at this point. You were just glad that Agent Whiskey wasn’t one of the people who cared that you liked men.

In fact, he treated you just like he treated everyone-- this meant he wasn’t shy about flirting and teasing you. Sometimes it seemed like he was coming onto you, but you had to remind yourself that he was like that with everyone-- you weren’t special and there was no way he was actually interested.

Before falling asleep each night, you’d listen to Jack’s soft snores and run scenarios through your head of every possible way that you could share your feelings. You thought about all of the things you could say, and all of the ways Jack could react. It was agonizing but your analytical mind couldn’t stop. You wished you had the courage to just ask him out. The worst that could happen is he’d say ‘no’ and maybe request to never work with you again, but then at least you’d be free of him.

Wanna see what's under that attitude

Like, I want you, bless my soul

And I ain't gotta tell him

I think he knows

A loud laugh suddenly interrupted your thoughts and you looked over to the bar again. The bartender was giggling and grasping at Jack’s arm. The sight made your stomach turn, and you made a quick decision to get out of there before you had to watch them start making out over the bar.

You stepped up next to Jack and finally drew his attention away from the girl.

“Hey, hold off on my drink. I’m gonna head out,” you told him.

“What? Come on now, it’s so early!”

“Yeah. I just don’t really feel like hanging out anymore. I’ll see you back there.”

Before Jack could respond, you threw down some cash on the bar and turned away. You were already across the floor and on your way out the door when a hand on your arm stopped you.

“Hey. Are you pissed at me or something?”

“No,” you muttered, trying to ignore the shot of arousal you felt when he grabbed you, “I just don’t feel like sitting in the corner, watching you flirt with some chick.”

You tried to turn away from him, but Jack let out a quiet “ohhh” of understanding. His grip on your arm tightened.

“We’ve been on this mission for weeks now, and on our last night you finally decide to say something?” Jack laughed, turning you around so you were facing him again. He invaded your personal space, ducking his head and trailing his nose along your neck and jaw.

“What?” you asked, confused because he couldn’t possibly mean...

“You're so slow, that’s what,” Jack mumbled, his lips tracing along your neck. It felt amazing, but... was Jack- your fellow agent and known womanizer- really nuzzling your neck right now?

“I'm confused, are you really into this?” you asked again, trying to hold back a moan. Jack pulled away and looked at you with huge eyes.

“God, you’re an idiot. I've been sending you obvious signs, makin’ eyes at you and showing off what I got, and now I'm literally biting your neck, and you're still asking?” Jack said incredulously. You searched his face and saw eyes that were filled with desperation and lust.

“I just assumed…”

“I like it both ways, kid. Is that clear enough for you?”

He then took one step forward and kissed you fully on the lips. There was only a moment of shock before you melted into the kiss, pressing your bodies closer and running your hands over Jack’s shoulders and back. All of your worries disappeared then. You didn't feel the terrible anxiety that constantly filled you with dread. Your mind stopped frantically thinking about every possible worst case scenario. Everything stopped. There was only Jack.

“Oh ohhhh right. Yeah I’m an idiot,” you quietly mumbled against his lips, “Want to go back to the hotel?”

“Fuckin’ finally,” he replied with a grin.

Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh

We can follow the sparks, I'll drive

So where we gonna go?

I whisper in the dark

You weren’t sure how you made it back to the hotel so quickly, but as soon as you tumbled through the door, Jack had you pinned to the bed underneath him. His hands roamed all over your torso, and he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside before quickly doing the same to his own. The room was filled with your little whimpers every time Jack ground his hips against yours. You stared up at him, his lips swollen and red bitten and eyes blown with lust, and you were positive that you looked just as debauched. He looked just as beautiful hovering over you as you’d always imagined, and you wanted to feel him everywhere.

“More,” you whined, canting your hips up into Jack’s.

He groaned and trailed his hands down your chest, his fingers brushing against your nipples, causing a moan to slip from your mouth. He continued his journey down until he reached the fly of your jeans.

“Lift up,” Jack mumbled, leaning in to kiss your neck as he tried to tug your pants down. You obeyed and soon your pants and your boxers were off, leaving you completely exposed.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he moaned, his fingers barely brushing over your erection, “You’re even prettier than I thought, darlin’.”

You groaned, pushing your body closer to Jack’s. As his hand slowly learned the feel of your cock, your own hands wandered all over his body. From his strong shoulders to his muscular back, to his waist, his hips, his thick thighs. You slipped one hand into his jeans to grab his ass, finally getting the chance to touch the part of Jack’s body you’d fantasized about the most. You could feel his clothed erection rubbing against your thigh as Jack continued steadily stroking your cock.

“Jack,” you whimpered, gazing into his dark, lust-filled eyes. You were barely able to control your thoughts properly since Jack’s pace was getting quicker and way too distracting. He grinned down at you.

“This good, baby? You want it a little rougher?” he asked, a groan slipping from his lips as you squeezed his ass in response.

Jack pushed forward and kissed you harder this time, moving his hand faster along your cock. Then he kissed his way down your neck, sucking and nipping all your sensitive spots. Suddenly he bit down hard on the skin between your neck and shoulder, following it up with a long lick with his wide tongue. That show of possessiveness was enough to push you right to the edge. You cried out as pleasure tore through you, coming in ropes all over Jack’s large hand. You gasped for breath, your chest rising and falling as your head lolled against the pillows.

Jack hovered over you, continuing to kiss your neck and upper chest as you came down from your high. “I’ve been told I’m good with my hands, can I get a confirmation on that, darlin'?“ he asked with a cocky grin.

Your eyes blinked open and you smirked at him. “You’ve got the confirmation all over your hand.”

“Ooooh, so he’s mouthy all of a sudden. Guess I just had to get you in bed to see the sassy side of you, huh?” Jack tutted.

“I’ll show you mouthy,” you muttered, blushing at the stupid euphemism even as you trailed a line of kisses down Jack’s sternum and belly.

When you reached the top of his jeans, you surprised your fellow agent by flipping him over and yanking his pants down in one fluid motion. Jack growled at the switch, but when you took his cock into your mouth, he gasped and surged forward. You enjoyed the desperate moan he made as you swallowed him completely, his hips bucking into your mouth. But you wanted to take your time with this. You grasped his hip bone with one hand and held him down, before pulling off his cock and moving to lightly lick his balls. Jack was making beautiful, desperate noises and you loved the idea that this strong, confident agent was falling apart because of you. You smiled against him and swiped your tongue along the bottom of his shaft before taking him fully into your mouth again.

“Holy hell, you’re fuckin’ amazing,“ Jack groaned as you bobbed up and down on his cock, “I’m so close-”

You sucked harder and reached your other hand down to fondle his balls again as Jack thrust into your mouth. Soon he was arching forward and shouting your name. You let him come in your mouth, swallowing his seed down like it was another shot at the bar.

When you looked up at Jack from between his legs, you grinned. He had his head tilted back, one hand thrown across his mouth as he stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. When he felt your eyes on him, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile.

“Damn, that was…”

“Amazing,” you cut him off, “Even better than I imagined.”

“So you imagined it, huh?”

Unable to control the urge any longer, you leaned forward and pulled Jack into a sweet, affectionate kiss. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and you could feel him grinning the whole time. When you finally pulled back, he was still smiling but he also looked a bit confused.

“Why haven’t we done this sooner?” he asked.

“I was convinced you were straight. I’ve been a fucking mess trying to decide if I should say something or not,” you replied.

Jack hummed and reached for you, but you chuckled and pulled away.

“You need a shower,” you said, “Then we can talk some more.”

“Only if you join me, sugar...”

I want you, bless my soul

I ain't gotta tell him

I think he knows

#agent whiskey #jack daniels #kingsman golden circle #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x male reader #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #my fanfic #fanfiction tag

[ncssian]

A Favor: Bonus Scene Two (Gwynriel)

Masterlist

a/n: this picks up right after nesta leaves gwyn’s apartment in Part 24. warning for discussions of sex, obviously.

***

As soon as the apartment door shuts after Nesta, Gwyn releases a breath and turns to Azriel with a wide gaze. “Do I really have to teach you guitar?” she says.

“Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. It was a throwaway line meant to get Nesta off his back, and even she didn’t entirely believe it. He moves toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, still shaken from Nesta storming into Gwyn’s bedroom like that. Not that she interrupted much. Gwyn still has a long way to go before she can handle anyone touching her between her legs, Azriel thinks.

He never asked Gwyn what a twenty-seven year old woman was so afraid of sex for when she first suggested her proposal to him. She looked so scared that he would question her that he couldn’t bring himself to poke even a little bit. Not that he needs to poke. He’s not a fucking idiot, and Gwyn’s thighs had been trembling in involuntary fear under his hands earlier. She’s been hurt.

For her sake, he pretends to remain ignorant and incurious, but right now his grip on the glass in his hand is so tight it might shatter. His face remains cool as he pours himself water.

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Gwyn hops up onto the kitchen counter and swings her freakishly long legs. “About what you get out of our deal?”

“I don’t expect you to teach me sex for free, obviously,” Gwyn blabbered the day after they got back from the ski lodge. “You can ask for something from me, too. Even money, if that’s your thing.”

Prostitution was not Azriel’s thing, though he wouldn’t knock it. The truth was that his brain had started turning as soon as Gwyn told him about her idea, and now it couldn’t stop. Oddly enough, this opportunity was perfect.

“Tell Nesta that I’m using you as a rebound?” Azriel nearly snorts on his water. “Did you miss the part where she almost cut my dick off and choked me with it?”

Gwyn hums noncommittally. “Being a distraction from your ex is better for me than it is for you. It’s insurance that you won’t get any funny ideas.” She narrows her teal eyes at him. “If you find yourself moving on from Nesta’s hot sister, you better tell me right away. I’ll end this whole thing quickly and cleanly.”

“Why?” He thought moving on from Elain was the goal, one he was unlikely to achieve.

“You know.” She crosses her arms in an X over her chest like she’s warding him off. “You might catch—feelings for me.”

This time Azriel really does snort on his water, hard. His laughter turns into coughing when it slips down the wrong pipe, and liquid dribbles onto his shirt. Gwyn just sits there and stares at him in vague disgust.

When he’s done choking, he wipes his mouth with the hem of his tee and gasps, “Even without Elain, you wouldn’t need to worry about that. Trust me.”

Gwyn wrinkles her freckled nose in distaste. “I would be offended if I wasn’t so relieved.”

He’s still chuckling when Gwyn says cautiously, “By the way…” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Did you really ghost Elain?”

Azriel is no longer amused.

“When you said you broke up with her, I thought you actually broke up with her,” Gwyn continues. “I didn’t know you were one of those guys.”

Shame tinged with embarrassment floods Azriel, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea why. Why does it matter what Gwyn of all people thinks of him, especially when she doesn’t have all the details?

He thought he was making things easier for Elain by leaving without a word. He thought she would let him slip out of her mind after a couple of weeks just like he slipped out of her life, and that it would be better than having to hear him dump his insecurities on her.

He knows now that he was only making things easier for himself. Knows that if he had stayed and talked things out with Elain, she would have convinced him to stay. If he had called her at all in the past two months, he would have gone running back to Velaris like a sailor answering a siren’s song.

She’s always been a siren—which is why he can’t regret doing what would have happened eventually anyway. Even without that Vanserra bastard or some other man, Elain could never have been a permanent fixture in Azriel’s life. Little details sprinkled throughout their time together confirm that for him now.

That doesn’t mean Elain deserved it, or deserves it now. Azriel knows that.

But all he can think of to say to Gwyn is, “Yeah, maybe I am one of those guys.” He puts his glass in the sink. “You still want me as your teacher?”

Gwyn shrugs, looking away. “It’s not like I’ve got any other choice.”

Azriel would disagree. He says what he’s been thinking since they got back from Cassian’s birthday trip. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with someone you love and trust?”

“God no,” Gwyn snorts, providing no further explanation.

Azriel can understand being hesitant to admit sexual inexperience to a crush, but it doesn’t stop him from judging Gwyn’s new man. If this coworker of hers is so great, wouldn’t she be able to trust him unabashedly with her insecurities? Wouldn’t he readily accept her for all that she is?

Ugh, he’s been dipping into Nesta’s reading collection too much lately. “Alright, then.” He leans against the counter opposite Gwyn. “Let’s talk about learning. You clammed up in bed back there after ignoring my suggestions and shoving my head between your legs.”

“I clammed up because of my best friend barging into my room and catching us together,” Gwyn defends.

“Your pussy was dry as bread before that,” he retorts. Ooh, now he wants toast.

Gwyn turns a furious shade of red while Azriel starts looking around for bread. He finds it sitting by the toaster. “Can you not say that?” she hisses at him.

“What?” He looks up from dropping bread into the toaster.

“You know…” She glances around cautiously as if someone might overhear. “Pussy.”

“Pussy,” he says again, just to be annoying. Gwyn’s shoulders turn inward in embarrassment, and he has to hold back a grin. Yeah, she’s definitely not ready for oral.

He finds a butter knife and some peanut butter. “I told you to start easy and you ignored me. You tried jumping into the deep end without learning how to tread water.”

Gwyn scoffs. “And what does ‘treading water’ entail again?”

Azriel shrugs, plucking up his finished toast. “Making out, heavy petting, freshman-year-of-high-school kind of stuff.”

“I’ve done that before,” she mutters indignantly. “Maybe not in my freshman year, but I’ve done it.”

He wonders how long ago that was, or if it was before she was—hurt.

“Besides,” Gwyn goes on before he can push the matter further, “I’m not budging on kissing. I want to save that for the man I actually like.”

“You don’t like me?” Azriel raises a brow, slathering peanut butter over his toast. “You definitely don’t act the same with me as you do with other men.” Or at least that’s what he assumes. Up until a short while ago, he never would’ve been able to imagine timid Gwyn having the guts to ask anyone for sex ed. That’s got to make him special, right?

But then Gwyn waves him off and says, “That’s ‘cause you’re not a real man. I knew you before puberty.”

Azriel nearly drops his toast. “Wow, the nerve of this woman,” he mutters with wide eyes. If she keeps this up, he’s going to start regretting ever going to the same school as her. “That’s not what you said when you were going on about how attracted you are to me.”

“I said you were attractive, not that I was attracted.” Gwyn’s blush is more from irritation than shyness now. “You do the job, but you’re no Max.” She giggles at saying his name. Actually giggles. “I’ll only kiss Max.”

“What kind of stupid ass name is Max?” Azriel grumbles through a mouthful of peanut butter.

“It’s short for Maximillian.”

He chokes. “Jesus, that’s even worse.” He’s doing all this work for some guy named Maximillian. Maybe he should just go home and let Nesta give him the beating he deserves.

Except thinking about Nesta only reminds Azriel of what a coward he is, because he fears facing her again almost as much as he fears facing Elain. “By the way, could I…” he starts hesitantly.

Gwyn gives him a judgmental sneer. “You don’t want to go back to the cabin, do you?”

He shakes his head.

“You can’t stay here,” she responds, crushing his hopes. “I have plans tonight, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you be such a wimp.” She hops off the counter and comes over to him, surprising him by grabbing both of his shoulders. “Azriel,” she says somberly.

He swallows his toast roughly.

“You have to grow some balls,” she continues. “Not just for your sake, but for the sake of every poor woman in your life. Also, all this drama is personally a turn-off for me, which is detrimental to my sex education.” She wrinkles her nose. “Do better and all that, you know?”

Damn, okay.

Instead of standing there like an idiot, Azriel manages to say, “Fine, I’ll go.” He shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth and dusts off his hands, heading for the living room.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave right now—” Gwyn follows after him. Azriel is already on the couch, pulling a stray notepad and pen on the coffee table closer to himself.

He clicks the pen. “When’s that library guy planning to take you out?” he asks, starting to write.

Gwyn hovers near him, watching the notepad over his shoulder in confusion. “Um, this Saturday. Just a casual coffee shop thing.”

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” He scribbles down some bullet points and labels the page LESSON PLAN. “Until then, think about a way to enjoy foreplay without kissing. Here are some suggestions so you can practice.” He tears the lined paper out of the notepad and hands it to Gwyn.

Her eyes skim over the page, brows rising with each point she reads. “Is all this really necessary?”

Azriel remembers how he barely brushed his lips against Gwyn’s core before having to pull away and kiss her quivering thigh instead. He can’t have sex with an unaroused woman, and he definitely can’t do it with a terrified woman. “Foreplay is absolutely necessary,” he says, getting up from the couch and stretching to his full height. Where Elain used to only reach his chest, Gwyn’s head almost reaches his nose. It amuses him for some reason.

“Do you like movies?” he adds. “I’ll take you to the movies on Friday.” Preferably something boring and played out, so the theater will be empty and she won’t be paying attention.

Gwyn’s eyes widen. “Is going on dates also part of foreplay?”

“It can be,” Azriel shrugs. It will be when he does it. He drops a hand onto Gwyn’s head and ruffles her hair. “I’d love to stay and help you study, but I have to go and grow some balls.” He mock-frowns at her as he heads for his shoes and keys. “See you later, Gwyneth.”

***

a/n: wait why do i wanna write the movie theater scene now… pls help me im just trying to finish this damn fic im getting too old for this

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99

#ncssianwrites #gwynriel #a favor #bonus scene

[iambilliejeanok]

Omg can I plz plz plzzzz get a Dom!Kisame x Sub!Fem!reader? Where the reader and Kisame are constantly bickering back and forth and don’t like each other but one day an argument they have leads into some rough sex? I hope this makes sense. I really enjoy your writing by the way!!

I like this one. I like it alot. 😏thank you anon💜

Warnings: 18+. Unedited. NSFW. Language, slight overstimulation and violence.

“Not today Kisame! I’ve had enough stinky!”, you yelled, irritated beyond belief at the mere sight of the shark boy, let alone the mean words coming out of his fowl mouth. You huffed, crossing your arms and cocking your hip in a way that Kisame admired. He didn’t like that he thought you were very attractive and sought to squash any and every thought he had about you by being mean. “Get yourself together y/n”, he spoke in a very demeaning way, despite the fact that he was clearly aggravating you with his patronizing taunts. “I thought you could handle a little criticism. You’re weak and you ought to train a little more to at least compensate for your failures y/n”. That was it. He reached the boiling point. Why would he say that considering the fact that you were alone, on a mission to capture the four tails. Unlike like you, everyone else had a partner to help them succeed. The four tails was strong, forcing you to back out of the fight before you’d needlessly hurt yourself. Your taijutsu was neat, but you lacked the physical strength to inflict any serious harm, your strength being the ability to absorb chakra and return it to the user in five fold. Also that you were abnormally intelligent, making you a crucial member of the akatsuki as you played a role in managing the group, sometimes helping pick out the right teams for the right tasks. And your main focus was to collect information about the jinchuriki to share with Pein, who would use that information to select an actual team to hunt down the host. Kisame was happy you failed. There was just something about seeing you so miserable that he couldn’t help but take pleasure in. “Are you gonna let him talk to you like that y/n?”, Hidan deviously questioned, successfully riling you up. You literally pounced on him, not caring that you were in the midst of all the other members, taking him down by complete surprise. You both fell to the ground with a loud thud, Kisame completely taking the hit as you landed on top of him. He was rather stunned that you were able to easily take him down. “Yes y/n, get him!” Hidan cheered, enjoying the view of your ass as you hovered above your new opponent, earning himself a glare from Kakuzu. You certainly weren’t tiny. You were packing in all the right places, standing at 5’8, your curvy body showing in all its glory because your clothes burnt off in certain areas after escaping the four tails brutal lava release, making you look all the more fucking sexy to the swordsman, as well as every other member in the room. But even then, he was way too big and bulky for you to manage bringing him down to the ground in a spilt second all by yourself. You brought your fist up, ready to wipe away that smug look on his face with a nice and hard blow, infuriated at how he calmly waited for you to hit. Your fist connected with his cheek, Kisame quickly flipping you over so he was now on top of you, blood dripping out his nose and falling on your cheek as he easily pinned your wrists on either side of your head, his solid, muscly frame dominantly hovering above you. “Are you trying to kill yourself?”, he growled, angered by how you took him down in front of everyone, but also more than happy to fight you, to see what you’re really capable of. You brought your knee up between his legs, a loud grunt leaving his mouth as you landed a hard blow on his crotch. You used the opportunity to head butt him hard before flipping him over so you were right back on top of him. He was obviously holding back, but today you were in the mood to really fight. “Enough!”. You both snapped your heads in the direction of the familiar voice. Pein looked down at both of you, his purple eyes piercing your own, his expression stoic as always. You quickly got off of Kisame, dusting yourself off as you walked off to your room. He really underestimated you, but next time Pein wasn’t around, you would certainly give him a big taste of the strength he didn’t know you had.

The next morning you felt somewhat better, dragging yourself out of bed to start your day with the rest of the miserable human beings in the hideout. You finished up your breakfast, washing only your dishes, drying them and packing them away, growling at anyone who dared to near you with their dirty dishes. You would die before you washed somebody else’s dishes in this hideout. No one was worthy. Except maybe Itachi. You dried your hands off, walking back to your room to meditate, shower and change before you’d go out and train a little. Not because Kisame said so, you reminded yourself, now debating whether or not you should train, so Kisame wouldn’t think you were training because of his rude remark last night. You walked with your eyes glued to the floor, not watching where you were going as you sped walked the rest of the way in deep thought. You bumped into something hard, the impact throwing you off balance, causing you to stumble backwards and land hard on your bottom. “Ow!” , you whined, looking up to see Kisame. He didn’t have his cloak on, just a skin tight black turtle neck shirt with a pair of black pants. Barefoot. The shirt he wore hugged his muscular chest in such a sinful way. His beefy arms flexing as he gazed at you. This might of been the first time you’d seen him without a cloak. He wasn’t just a big shark. He was a tall, muscular, sexy shark. He reached down to grab your arm, pulling you up a little too fast, causing you to stumble once again, but this time, he held you until you were able to stand on your own. You were pretty much gawking at this point, gulping away your arousal as you immediately looked at the ground, embarrassed that he caught you. “Watch where you’re going little girl”, he said, ignoring how cute you looked still dressed in your pijamas. The pink, spaghetti strap shirt hugging your ample bosom, your nipples confidently introducing themselves through the thin cotton material. The shirt ended just beneath your natural waist, revealing your pierced belly button and a whole lot of smooth skin before your navy blue with white polka dots pants took over, a drawstring keeping them around your hips as they draped all the way down to your ankles, folded twice so you wouldn’t step on them. You both stood in the middle of the long passage, awkward silence surrounding the two of you as you shyly checked each other out. “If you were watching where you were going you wouldn’t of let me walk right into you”, you started, trying to distract yourself from the 6’4 hunk of sexiness standing in front of you. Quickly overcoming your shame you looked up at him, clearing your throat as his eyes were glued to your chest for a good few seconds before he lift them up to look at your face. Unlike you he wasn’t embarrassed at all, his eyes continuing their journey down your body as he nonchalantly replied, “Yeah whatever little girl, I don’t have time for this today”. Your eye twitched. “I’m not a little girl”, you spoke, trying to stay as nonchalant as he was. “Is that so?”, he challenged. “Yes. I’m much more than you could ever handle Kisame. But anyways, I’m not going to to stand here and argue with an angry fish, so bye”, you retorted, starting to walk past him and to your room. His large hand found your neck, causing you to stumble as he dragged you back in front of him, pushing you against the wall all in one swift movement. You gasped out as your back hit the wall, knocking a little air out of your restricted windpipe. Kisame eyes met yours, his teeth showing in his devious smile. He didn’t know whether to laugh at your confidence or respond to your smart remarks. Whatever it was he was feeling made his dick twitch. If only you weren’t so damn cute gasping for air in his hold he would’ve ignored you and continued on about his day. But today he reached his limit. He was going to teach you a very good lesson.

He leaned forward to whisper in your ear, “Much more than I could ever handle?”, he questioned. “Are you sure about that little girl?”. At that he let go of you, watching you greedily suck in air before easily picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You blushed at how strong he was. “I’m guessing you don’t know how to be gentle”, you remarked, only further triggering his irritation. “For once you’re actually right about me. I do not know how to be gentle and I hope you learn from this”, he responded. You could hear the seriousness in his tone, hoping he meant to do what you thought he was going to do and not actually kill you this morning. Uncertainty travelled through your veins, making you nervous as you tightened your grip on his shirt, trying to keep your balance. His arm sat between your thighs, the grip on your upper thigh just below your ass the only support you had on his shoulder. You were genuinely concerned. Trying to think of a plan to escape or fight back if you needed to. He entered a room, shutting the door behind him. A few steps later he threw you onto his unmade bed. You could smell his musky scent all around you, spiking up your arousal as you sat up on your elbows, looking around you before concluding you were in fact, in his room. You looked up at him, gulping away your nerves as he lifted his shirt over his head. Holy fuck. At this point his sexiness would surely kill you before he got the chance to. You could only watch him in silence, as he crawled onto the bed, slowly making his way to you, like an animal sneaking up on it’s prey, forcing you to lie on your back. He spread your legs open to settle between them. You felt so little beneath him, actually nervous about what was currently taking place. Kisame stopped just above you, sensing your nerves building up. “Where did the cocky girl run off to?”, he chuckled. You felt rather embarrassed that he was right, all your confidence left your body when he threw you onto his bed, suggesting that he was going to fuck you. As aware as you were you couldn’t find any words to retort. A smile appearing on his face, showing his sharp white teeth as he waited for a reaction. “Did you forget how to talk?”, he asked, before planting a small kiss on your soft lips. He pulled away, looking at your face before coming back down to plant another kiss in the crook of your neck. You lifted your chin up to give him more access. His hand rubbed your thigh, slowly coming up to your hips, then your waist, your abdomen and finally your breasts, not ceasing the kisses that slowly turned into sucks and bites, his sharp teeth piercing your skin, making you moan out before his tongue lapped at the blood, soothing the pain he caused you. His big hand squeezed your boob, causing him to groan at the feel of the soft mound. His fingers pinched your nipple hard enough that you squealed. “Answer me y/n”, his tone serious as he continued his attack on your neck. You complied, “Yes I can talk, I’m just a little surprised”. You figured you should be honest about how you felt right now. He ceased his marking, coming up to look at your face. “I hate to admit it but I find myself very attracted to you, annoying as you are. Right now though, I want nothing more than to fuck you, hard and fast”, he confessed, emphasizing his last words with a buck of his hips, grinding into you, smiling at the way you bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan. “I’m sure I can handle you just right”, he continued, deciding to slowly roll his hips into yours, roughly dry humping you. “I’m just not sure if you could keep up”. At that you snapped your eyes open, a small moan escaping your lips as his erection rubbed your lady parts just the right way. “I can keep up Kisame. You’re not all that”, you quickly retorted. Kisame chuckled, watching you slightly squirm beneath him, enjoying the way he rubbed against you.

His lips smashed into yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, making you squeal in delight. His hands immediately worked on undressing you, quickly pulling your shirt over your head and dragging your pants off along with your underwear. In less than a minute you were bare beneath him, your legs spread out as he pressed kisses onto your inner thighs, slowly nearing your wet and aching heat. You brought a finger to your mouth, bracing yourself for what was to come. Kisame looked up at you, waiting for a thumbs up. You looked back into his eyes, whining as you bucked your hips up. Without further ado he drove right in, greedily lapping up your juices, spreading your lips apart before sucking on your throbbing nub, forcing you into a fit of long, breathy moans. You buried your hand into his hair, the other tugging on one of your nipples as you neared an intense orgasm. His large hands kept your thighs spread apart for him, purple nails digging into them as he ferociously ate you out. His mouth found your clit once again, sucking hard on it, the pleasure almost painful as you screamed out in ecstasy. You legs shook in his hold, juices spilling everywhere as he kept at it, making sure you let it all out before he pulled away from you. He got off of the bed, watching you squirm around in pleasure as he pulled his pants off, his boxers following, revealing his thick, long, glorious member. He crawled right back on the bed, flipping you over so you were on your tummy. “I’m sure you feel just as good as you taste sweet girl”, he teased, watching your fat ass jiggle as he slapped it, hard enough to pull out rough moans from you. He snaked his arm under your chest, wrapping his hand around your neck, your breasts snuggling his forearm. “Kisame!”, you moaned out, desperate to feel him inside of you. “What is it?”, he asked, biting his lip as he rubbed his dick along your slick folds, lubricating it and stimulating you at the same time. “Oooh please!”, you moaned, pushing your ass back against him. “You’re going to be begging me to stop soon little girl. Be patient”, he reprimanded, focusing on lubricating his dick in your juices, making you whine out in sweet frustration. Your legs were tucked underneath his own, your thighs pressed together, waiting for him to fuck you.

After what felt like forever he finally pushed the tip into you, slowly stretching you out. He watched you barely manage to take him, squirming beneath him as he sunk into your tight cunt. He couldn’t hold back a moan of his own, sinking his sharp teeth into the back of your neck as he pushed himself all the way into you, your tight pussy snugly swallowing him in. “Kisame! Fuck!”, you moaned out in pain and pleasure as he lapped up the blood dripping from your new wound. He didn’t give you anytime to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. “Mmm fuck! Here we go baby”. He immediately set to a fast and hard pace, his strong hips pushing you up the bed with every thrust, his hand on your neck keeping you in place as he pounded you into the sheets. You couldn’t speak, struggling to catch your breath as your screams took over. His dick was so big, hitting a spot inside of you that made you wonder if he was actually trying to kill you with pleasure. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, drool falling down your chin as he roughly fucked you. Your whole body was now violently convulsing beneath him and you hadn’t even reached your climax yet. Heavy pants fell from Kisame’s mouth as he brutally fucked you, enjoying the way your tight pussy threatened to milk him dry. “You feel way too fucking good baby. Come now”, he spoke through gritted teeth, the demand in your ear sending you over the edge as you came hard. All you could do was scream as the pleasure brutally consumed you, leaving you a complete mess as your grip on the sheets failed to anchor you through this one. Your walls clenched hard around him and he couldn’t hold back, grunting your name out in your ear as he came after you. It took everything in him to not bite you again as his orgasm ripped right through him. Sparing your skin from any more nasty marks.

His weight on top of you crushed you but also anchored you as you both rode your orgasms out. He calming himself before did, pulling you into him as he rolled onto his back. “That was quite intense. Are you okay?”, he asked, holding you tight against him as he kissed your face. His hands ran along your back, to help sooth you down, your whimpers muffled into his chest as you gradually caught your breath. “Y/n, are you okay? Answer me”, he asked again, slightly worried that he might of been a little too rough. He was sure it wasn’t your first time, considering how well you took him when he sunk into you. Maybe he was way too rough. He panicked, slightly tugging your head back to see your face. “Y/n. Answer me”. “K-Kisame. I’m f-fine”, you tiredly whimpered, snuggling into him to find sleep. He finally breathed out, kissing your forehead in relief. So this was all it took to get you to behave? He was hoping you’d be open to doing this again sometime soon, letting sleep take over as he relaxed onto the bed, feeling very satisfied with how things turned out.

#kisame #kisame x reader #kisame smut #kisame x y/n #kisame hoshigaki #nsft post

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Finale | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: It’s Halloween, and there are a lot of things on Spencer’s mind.

A/N: Here it is, everyone: the end of the story. Thank you so much to everyone who’s read this far. I greatly appreciate all of you, and I hope you enjoy it!   Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Penetrative sex, light D/s, mostly fluff! Word Count: 7.5k

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Autumn has widely been considered the season of change. It is an understandable characterization; from the shifting hues of the leaves to the wildly fluctuating temperatures, few things stayed consistent in the fall. Perhaps that’s why someone who loathes change, someone like me, finds the season so thrilling.

It’s like the Earth and the Sun made a pact to make changes more predictable in their own unique, chaotic way. The breeze becomes biting and the days become shorter, but for these downfalls, we are granted a beauty and calmness that can’t be rivaled by any other season.

But she wasn’t a season, and when it came to my attention and appreciation, there were few choices that were easier to make.

“Spencer. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

(Y/n)’s face was half covered by the cup she held tightly with both hands, but I could picture the hidden expression perfectly, regardless.

“What? We don’t have to agree on everything.”

The truce was received poorly, her response a heavy scoff and a shake of her head. I tried to follow along with her suddenly heated words but couldn’t contain the stars in my eyes that often accompanied my daydreams. If she did notice, she stubbornly ignored the adoration to continue, “I understand you’re a genius or whatever, but I think your opinions on cider and cocoa are... wrong. They are wrong.”

It was my turn to feign displeasure (I hoped hers wasn’t real, anyway), clutching tighter to my own drink that I found myself defending on a park bench with dozens of strangers as an audience.

“An opinion can’t be wrong!” I chirped, only hating the way my voice jumped a little bit. After all, it was hard to hate it when it made her giggle. But despite how much sweeter the liquid seemed when I drank it in the presence of her smile, I also knew that she wouldn’t appreciate my immediate agreement. So, I pushed back just a little, “It can be misguided or ignorant but not outright wrong.”

“Unless it’s yours, on this topic,” she shot back without hesitation.

I tried to flash her a pout, hoping that maybe it would work for me like it did for her. It did not. Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped open with another laugh, and I decided that I preferred that outcome, anyway. The longer my bottom lip stuck out, the wider her smile got. I waited to stop until her eyes closed and turned away, just long enough for me to let the full force of my affection show before she noticed.

She saw it, anyway, in the form of a similar smile spread over my face when I softly admitted, “Fine. You’re right.”

“Oh, I know.”

Her tongue peeked between her lips, and I found myself thinking less of cider and cocoa and more about how unbelievably lucky I was to find someone that I never felt the need to prove anything to. A person that didn’t care if I held all the answers.

I might’ve continued down that sappy train of thought, but it was hard to do while she had hoisted herself halfway over the table to try and grab hold of my cup right as I went to drink from it. Of course, she had failed to take into account just how big the table was, and just how close I was willing to come to falling before I let her drink from my cup right after she’d criticized my preference of fall flavors.

For a second, I really thought she might climb onto the table to win, but the judgmental looks from the parents in the park must have beaten her desire to win. As forlorn as humanly possible, she fell back into her seat with a loud “Hmph!” which really only managed to elicit an equally immature giggle from me.

“Shut up,” she laughed before shoving my paper plate further into my chest, “And eat your stupid pie.”

All I could think as she grabbed my fork and stabbed the middle of the piece to try to lift the entire thing at once, was that I was right about one thing: Autumn, in all its vitality and beauty, could still never compare to her.

That thought persisted through the pumpkin patch, growing in intensity as she skipped through the vine-laden path like a regular fall fairy. It was much easier to get lost in her there, crouched and inspecting foliage. Her arguments regarding gourds were much less spirited, with her watching me wide-eyed and curious as I explained the stages of pumpkin growth and all the different uses for the fruit.

I still let her make the final choices, opting to analyze her selections and tease her for them later, instead. That was the plan, anyway, to continue the competitiveness lest she gets bored with me before the day was over. When she walked past me holding open the passenger side door, I thought it might’ve already happened.

But then she just placed the pumpkin into my hands so she could open the back door. Before I could even move, she carefully removed it from my arms again and placed it in the seat.

“What are you doing?” I said through a very amused chuckle.

She was decidedly not entertained by my confusion, stopping to turn to me with a bored, frustrated expression. “I’m buckling him in,” she explained slowly, like I might need the help. Then, to add insult to silly injury, she added, “Duh.”

I was too distracted by the details to tackle the absurdity of it all.

“Him? It’s a boy pumpkin?”

“Obviously. Look at him,” she snorted, finally clicking the seatbelt in before tenderly petting the top of the lucky little gourd. Once she was convinced it would be as safe as she could make it, she allowed me to begin to escort her into her proper seat.

“You know it’s safer on the floor, right?” I asked before she’d slipped past me. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the car so I could enjoy the warmth of her before it was replaced with the dry air of the engine.

“How dare you,” she balked with an open mouth that was just begging to be kissed. By the time I got close enough to try, though, her hand fervently shoved my cheek away. I tried to laugh, but she used the same hand to cover the noise, trying and failing to convince me she was being serious.

“Why don’t you just hold him?” I mumbled against her palm.

That was enough for her to abandon my embrace altogether. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she pried my arms off of her and finally made her way to my passenger seat. I didn’t fight her too hard, even taking the time to shut her door like my mother always insisted.

The mercy was not returned, with her eyes narrowed into a playful disbelieving glare that I hadn’t seen in some time. My mind was brought back to the first time she ever let me know she was jealous, bickering over blondes and preferences while she sat in the very same place. And, just as before, she was still wearing the same raggedy old sweatshirt of mine.

“If this is any indication of how you’ll be with a human baby, I have dramatically overestimated your competence,” she droned, obviously unaffected by the stars that appeared in my eyes every time I looked at her.

“The one and only time you’ll ever be able to say those words. I hope you enjoyed it,” I joked. A funny enough joke that she couldn’t help but smile through her facade.

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “I did.”

The day could have ended there, and it would have been enough. Honestly, I couldn’t think of a single thing that wouldn’t be better with her there. In a way, I think we were trying to prolong the high of ‘hooky,’ finding even the faintest interest in an activity as enough of an excuse for a detour.

… Which was probably how we found ourselves in our third park of the day. After all, I loved any autumnal vision, so how could I decline an opportunity to let them serve as a backdrop for watching her? And that was an accurate description of how I spent the day. It might sound boring, and if it were anyone else, it probably would have been. But no matter how often I saw her, I found myself learning new things about her every single time. Each freckle and scar became a part of the high-definition collection of memories that I would never let myself forget. The most beautiful images that kept me sane in the face of evil and filth.

“Do you see that?”

For a moment, I thought she might have read my mind. But then I realized that her eyes were still fixed forward, stuck on the horizon ahead of us.

“See what?”

“That,” she pointed, “Right there.”

My eyes followed the line, finding nothing but an area of carefully manicured, yellow grass and trees already set to rest for the season. It must have been clear to her that I was lost, because her pointing became more animated and her voice rose as she shouted, “Right there!”

“The giant pile of leaves?”

“Uh-huh.”

Then, in all of my obliviousness, I just sort of stared. Even when her hand grew tighter around mine and her feet started to move faster, I didn’t put two and two together until it was too late.

“What about— No! (Y/n)!” I shouted, cutting off my own train of thought and only barely letting go of her in time to watch her jump straight into the collection of fallen foliage that some poor landscaper had obviously worked hard to gather.

I have to believe that even if that unlucky, underappreciated individual saw what she’d done to their hours of work, that they would forgive her. It was hard to feel anything but joy at the sounds that came from the pile. Yet I approached her cautiously, with both hands in my pockets to avoid the urge to throw myself into danger with her.

“You’re a terror,” I said, settling for a crouched position in front of her. Still able to see her but far enough from her grasp that she had to crawl through a wall of leaves to come nose to nose with me. “This is literally the scariest thing you’ve done all season.”

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” she purred.

As enticing as the offer was, my mind was too preoccupied with statistics of spider and snake bites, not to mention the possibility of ticks still scouring the landscape for any last second hosts. The answer was easy.

“Absolutely not.”

With another exhale of pure displeasure, she threw her body back into the leaves, burying herself into a mess of yellows and reds that somehow only made her look even more beautiful. The chaotic scene matched her energy well, and the harm she was doing was minimal considering I was absolutely going to search every inch of skin for any marks later.

The only thing that was more appealing to me than watching her make an absolute fool out of herself in a pile of leaves was the intense urge to tease her about it. So, taking a regrettable seat on the grass, I sighed, “I think I’m going to have to arrest you for trespassing.”

There was a loud gasp from the center of the pile, followed by a scuffle of flailing limbs among the foliage.

“You don’t own this leaf pile! I do! I am queen of the leaf pile!” she screeched.

“Alright Princess,” I subtly corrected, “whatever you say.”

As promised, I didn’t put up a fight. Even when she finally got a hold of my hands and dragged me into the madness with her. I followed her no matter what nonsense she demanded, just as she had with me so many times. Granted, my desires weren’t nearly as dangerous or strange. They were pretty much just a collection of foreign films and reading that always lulled her to sleep.

But that day there was no sign of her energy waning. The early sun faded and we kept going. I’m not sure how, but she managed to enjoy herself in the D.C. landscape of bars and blaring car horns despite not being able to indulge in anything herself. Although she did half-heartedly attempt to trick me into buying her drinks in several different establishments, I think she was honestly proud that I avoided the drinks altogether. It was a nice reminder that sobriety could be something enjoyed between the two of us, regardless of the environment. However, we didn’t let that stop us from jumping into a crowd of very drunk women who had insisted we join their haunted tour of the city.

“Are you scared?” she whispered into my ear. The feeling of her warm breath against my skin caused a shiver to run down my spine, ruining any credibility I had in my response.

“No. Why would I be scared? It’s just history.”

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

“Yes!” I insisted with the worst possible timing. Because just as soon as the word had left my lips, I felt the distinct sensation of fingers running down my neck and arm opposite to her. I was so convinced that’s what it was that I even spun around with a yelp, crashing into at least three different people just to find a very startled woman with the worst hung scarf I’d ever seen.

(Y/n) had already put two and two together and was lost in an absolute fit of laughter. There were already tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she doubled over, barely able to stand through it all. Because there I was, her 31-year-old FBI agent boyfriend, screaming over a scarf.

“Laugh it up,” I droned. And she did. She kept laughing through any attempts at a response, and after the initial embarrassment wore off, I couldn’t help but join her.

“I hope you know you chose me. You chose this man!” I shouted, gesturing to the people around us who had already forgotten about our shenanigans, “And everyone knows it!”

“I’m sorry I can’t—” she wheezed, pausing to take a necessary breath that was all lost with another bunch of giggles “—You’re a fucking FBI Agent!”

“Well I can’t shoot a ghost, can I?” I mumbled through the hit to my ego. But any suffering was quickly dealt with as she threw dramatic arms around my waist, pulling me close and protecting me from any other errant scarves that might show up.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I returned with a quick kiss on her forehead. And even if I implied otherwise, I think she knew that I was having just as good of a time as she was. In fact, it was one of the most relaxing days of my life, which was saying something, considering how much walking was involved.

But no matter how tired we both were, I still had one last place to take her. It took her a while to figure out why the route felt so familiar, but I wasn’t ready to ruin the surprise. I wanted to watch the realization dawn on her. She didn’t disappoint.

“The Mayflower?” she asked with a bit of a bashful laugh before looking up at me through narrowed eyes, “Feeling nostalgic, Dr. Reid?”

“Yeah, a little bit. Thought it was more romantic than the club,” I offered, trying to shrug off the nervous butterflies that burst through my stomach. “Not by much, mind you.”

Although I got the feeling that she didn’t know, or perhaps just didn’t remember, that wonderful night from almost a year ago was one of the most important days of my life. I knew it then, too. From the second I set my eyes on her from my pitiful place against the bar, I knew that she would ruin me.

“Nothing screams high end romance like an alley and a little light law breaking,” she sighed. I almost missed it, too preoccupied with the way her arm tugged me tighter so she could rest her head against my shoulder.

“I can take you home if you’d rather.”

“Hmmm. Depends,” she hummed. Then, turning her head up to me with that playful look that always turned me to putty in her hands, she purred, “How much longer do you think you can wait before you just have to have me?”

I sucked in a sharp, sarcastic breath, eyeing her just long enough for her to start to fume, I let out all the air with a defeated sigh, “I guess we’re staying.”

That serene sort of teasing continued past the reception desk and all the way up the elevator. If there were other people there, we didn’t bother noticing. We were too busy watching one another to even look away long enough to find our room. Doubling back through the dizzying hallways until we found the elusive number, we finally settled into the only vaguely familiar layout of beige and tan.

She was much quicker at it than I was. Before I’d even finished washing my hands and checking exposed skin for bugs that I was convinced had hitched a ride from the leaf pile, she was already stretched out on the bed in nothing but a tiny piece of lacy cotton and her favorite sweatshirt. The sight made me stop, lost for breath and logic of how I was lucky enough to be there with her again.

“See something you like, Dr. Reid?” she teased through giggles, no doubt recalling the same memory as me.

My answer didn’t need to be said, but I said it, anyway. She deserved to hear it.

“Yes.”

With arms outstretched, she sleepily begged, “Come here.”

But I couldn’t.

“Not yet… I just… I want to look at you like this a little bit longer.”

How could I move on from this moment, when it was the best I’d ever felt? So overwhelmingly safe and at home despite being in a strange, sterile room. I had no desire to move any inch of me if it meant that this image would persist for the rest of my days.

“You getting all romantic on me?”

“Always,” I chuckled. Her usual disgust for my sappy behavior didn’t show itself, overpowered by the gentle curve of her lips and hands that were becoming more and more insistent to be held. Eventually, I had to move, knowing that it was the only way to hold her.

My body reacted the way it always did when it found her. All of the tension dropped from tired shoulders, desperate to touch her more. To feel the imprint of her body pressed against mine, a mess of heat and need and love.

She was the one to kiss me first, and for a moment I let her do it without reciprocation. I wanted to feel how her touch became softer and shier as she realized what I was doing. That I was spending all of my energy memorizing the way her lips parted as she tried to hold back a giggle against my almost-still lips.

“What’s happening in that big genius brain of yours?” she murmured with eyes half open but still containing universes.

“I’m just thinking of all the things you’ve done to make me fall in love with you.”

I thanked all of the gods in every pantheon that made her too tired to tease. Instead, she just laughed, playing her part in bringing us back to that night we met.

“Like quote Picard?”

“We still haven’t watched Star Trek together,” I whined.

The sound must have stirred something new in her, because she rolled us over to take her seat on my lap. She hung over me, looking down at me, hopeless and breathless at the feel of her thighs under my hands. My heart started to race, but I didn’t know why.

It wasn’t until she spoke the words that were already running through my mind, “We’ve got time. Picard can wait.”

Everything about it was effortless. Our bodies had fallen together and mouths found each other exactly like every romance novel has ever tried to tackle the metaphor of gravity.

But if we were an orbit, it was not a binary like the traditional notion of two equal souls. Despite the nickname I’d chosen for her, nothing about her soul was small. And even though she burned bright, she wasn’t anything like the fiery combustion of a star.

She was a home. A thing so full of vitality and life that I would love to watch for whatever time I had left. I was just a moon, loyally following her and trying my best to shield her from whatever might try to harm her. To protect her when she needed rest and to lead the tides to kiss her when she wished. I would be her shadow, shining a light onto her even in the darkest time. All that I asked for in return was a spot beside her.

‘One day,’ she had said before, ‘if you will have me.’

But it was never a question. Not for me. And if she really needed me to answer it for her, I was happy to give her that. I hadn’t been waiting for even a year, but it felt like a lifetime.

“Yeah, he can,” I repeated, quiet and with such a heavy waver that I’m surprised she could understand the shifting inflections. Even if she didn’t, she knew that something had changed in those few seconds of silence.

“What’s up, Spencer?”

I didn’t know how to answer. How to explain what I was feeling. But I grabbed hold of one hand, clinging desperately to her and guiding her to the heart that felt dangerously light. The rapid pace of its beating still not enough to alert her of the true cacophony of my thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

The answer was yes. Because no matter how loud and chaotic the sounds inside my head were, they all lead me to the same conclusion.

“Picard can wait, and we have a lot of time,” I tried to explain through a dry throat that was only growing tighter with the unwieldy weight of the feeling.

“Yes…” she mumbled back, just as trepidatious and nervous as I was.  

Just like I was. Because we were. We were connected by some force, whatever you want to call it. Whether it was a chemical or psychological or heavenly connection, I didn’t care. I wanted her to know how I felt. To know that there was nothing that would ever tear me away from her.

“But I don’t… I don’t think I want to wait.”

After a couple more seconds of silence, she answered with a knowing stare, “… What?”

From my position underneath her, I was able to reach over just enough to grab my jacket. Of course, it helped that she moved with me, clearly curious and terrified of the possibilities. But a good kind of terror… I hoped.

My confidence grew as her legs gripped tighter around my hips and her hands shot up to cover her chest with balled fists pressed against one another. I heard the friction of her skin as her body started to shake in a different way, with an adrenaline that I hadn’t seen from her in even the most dangerous situations.

But when I pulled a small velvet box from the internal pocket, everything stopped. She became completely still. Her eyes were wide and frozen on the object in my hands, only to look away when she heard my voice.

“(Y/n).”

“Where did you get that?” she asked like she hadn’t just seen me pull it from my jacket. The same jacket that I wore every time that I was with her. The wool fabric that she’d swaddled herself in on a number of occasions, none the wiser of how much heavier it was for me when I wore it.

“I know this is really random, a-and to be fair, I wasn’t expecting it, either,” I said through the most awkward laughs I’d ever produced (which was saying something), “I mean, I knew I wanted to marry you, I’ve known that for quite some time, hence the ring.”

I paused, but got nothing in response. Nothing except her lips quivering from their parted position, and her nose twitching as she tried to settle on just one expression. But it didn’t matter how she contorted her face; they were all exactly as they should be. Because they were all her.

“But today, with you… I-I’ve never been that happy in my life. Jumping in leaves and fighting over fall flavors and I—“

Her eyes stopped bouncing, settling with my gaze and robbing my lungs of all air. She made up her mind, deciding to leave everything exactly as it was. The honest truth of the overwhelming storm of every emotion that had been experienced in the little time we had shared together.

The knowing that everything had happened exactly as it should have to bring us here.

“I love you so much,” I whispered, careful to make every word as genuine as they were, “And I know that we have all the time in the world left with one another… but I don’t want to wait any longer for you to be my wife.”

“Ask me,” she answered immediately and abruptly.  


“Okay,” I laughed, endlessly entertained by how she could sound so aggressive even when we were both at our most vulnerable, caught in the nexus of our love.

“Um… Will you… marry me?”

There was no hesitation. No worry, no fear, and no doubt.

“Yes, you stupid old man!” she outright screamed, throwing arms around me even when it meant we both slammed against pillows and the headboard. She didn’t stop squealing even when she kissed me, struggling to find more of me to hold onto.

After she decided that tugging on my hair was the best way to express her affection, I managed to break away just long enough to shout, “Wait! I have to put the ring on you!”

“Then put it on!” she yelled, thrusting her hand in front of my face and practically slapping me in the process. But none of the pain mattered. Nothing was even recognizable outside of the feeling of her sweaty, shaking palm resting against my fingers.

I noticed for the first time that I was also trembling. I took the time to focus, slipping the ring over her finger. But once it started to safely slide into place, my eyes returned to watch what I knew to be happy tears fall over her cheeks. I wiped them away, but they were replaced with the wetness from my face when she brought us together again with a long, gentle kiss.

A calmness came over the room like the feeling following a storm. A clean slate with soil enriched for growth. A hope for a future forever changed.

“What do we do now?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and holding tight to my hands.

The answer seemed clear enough.

“Whatever we want.”

 —————————————————

 Is this really happening?

I stared at the diamond shining back at me with a clarity that had to be a metaphor for my heart. In the vague reflection of yellow light and us, I felt a warmth that doesn’t normally accompany metal. My finger’s new companion felt so comfortable in its new resting place. A constant reminder of the man I called home.

Then I turned back to him, unsure how I was supposed to move on from this moment. I never wanted to leave, but I also needed to move. I compromised and settled with my face against his chest, listening to the heartbeat he’d just dedicated to me. In that peaceful quiet, I heard him speak so softly I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it.

But I did.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said with fingers dancing through the ends of my hair, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

And for once, the thought didn’t feel like a burden. In fact, it felt like freedom. I was finally free to be who I was without worry that I would be alone. Without worrying that I would be too much or too little to please him.

I was enough.

Enough.

“I love you,” I said, tasting salt from tears I hadn’t even noticed were falling.

Curiously, and in a rare role switch, Spencer was the one who took a blatantly affectionate display and turned it into something else. Pulling me away from his chest, he dragged me up until he could drag his lips over my jaw.

“Don’t cry, little girl,” he cooed with what I could only imagine was a wicked grin, “I haven’t given you a reason to yet.”

Something about that gruff rumble in his throat caused my skin to ripple with goosebumps. Every inch of me burned with flames that could only be put out by his touch. I chased after his lips with my own, but he was insistent on trailing down my throat. He knew I would be powerless to him. I wouldn’t be able to argue when my hands were knotted in his hair and my hips were already rocking helplessly against his erection.

“I want you to fuck me,” I seethed. My blood was boiling from the heat I felt within, and before he could even answer I was already working at the buttons on his shirt.

“Oh? You don’t want me to make love to you?” Spencer laughed. As if that had ever been our style.

“No, I want you to take what’s yours.”

He responded to the demand by pushing me from my seat, forcing me onto my back on the other end of the bed. I wasn’t going to complain, either. The new position allowed me access to his belt, which I unbuckled before he even had time to laugh.  

“Are you really challenging me right now, little girl?”

But despite the taunt, he did nothing to stop me. His hands were also busy removing my clothes. And just like before, our nakedness was reciprocated. With each lost layer, I should have felt lighter, but I didn’t. I felt so powerful, so aware of how our bare bodies twined together.

“Here, of all places? Do you remember what I did to you that night?”

How could I ever forget?

“I’m not the same girl you had in your bed then,” I purred. We both knew it was true, although not in the way I was implying.

Because Spencer had changed me. Irrevocably. He taught me so much — not just about physics, literature, or criminology, either. He taught me about kindness, softness, and vulnerability. He taught me how to trust that someone could hold me without the intention of letting me go. More than anything, he taught me that I didn’t have to learn these things alone. Even the smartest man I’d ever met needed help with them sometimes.

Then again, something told me that Spencer wasn’t in a very humble mood. Perhaps it was the fact he’d pinned me down again, with his hands clumsily gripping hard enough to leave crescent moons in my forearms.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he growled with a small, chaste kiss, “You’re still just a fucking brat.”

I wasn’t feeling bratty then, though. Especially not as I felt the head of his cock pressed against me, just hard enough to feel the resistance of my body. He waited there, no doubt taking pleasure in the way my whole body squirmed underneath him. My hips bucked, but he managed to keep a cruelly steady distance.

“You’re so precious when you’re needy,” he mumbled. And although I stubbornly avoided looking him in the eyes out of protest, he forced my face towards him again, anyway. “Go on. Say please.”

“Fuck off,” I whined through a prominent pout that did me no favors.

“Say it.”

“Please!”

I managed to make eye contact, but it was fleeting. As soon as he thrust forward into me, my back arched and I lost myself in the pillows. My hands found him, though, leaving angry red welts over heated skin. If Spencer was at all affected by the pain, he made no showing of it. His pace continued, steadily forcing our bodies together until I trembled in his hands.

He would hold me there, at my limit but not pleading for him to do anything different. With tender hands, he would fuck me until I swore bruises would follow. But I never felt unsafe; I felt cared for and cherished in a way I’d never known. I trusted him to know my limits better than myself.

I trusted him with all of me because I had already seen that when given the chance, he would do whatever he could to protect me.

The love I felt must have shone through my eyes because his hips got slower, drawing out each movement. My hips rose in tandem with his, allowing me to feel every inch of him inside of me.

“This body belongs to me now and forever,” he whispered.

It always has.

“You belong to me.”

And I felt it. The undeniable string of fate that tied us to each other. I could feel his every emotion as his fingers brushed over my throat. I melted under his touch, completely consumed by the love he felt for me. The kind of love that people spent their whole lives searching for only to come up empty. That powerful thing that drove gods to war and men to madness.

The only feeling that could tear down every wall that had been carefully crafted to protect myself. Because I didn’t need them anymore. Spencer’s arms would take their place, holding me through the storms that might follow the same way he had carried me through the ones that led us here.

“Yes,” I breathed, “I’m yours.”

For forever and whatever comes after.

The words were truer than they’d ever been before, and Spencer took it as permission to let go of any remaining hesitation. The slow, gentle thrusts became faster and our moans echoed in the small room without a second thought to the poor patrons in the rooms surrounding us. Because if they felt what we did, they would understand. Spencer still tried to hush the sounds, crashing his lips over mine in a sloppy, frenzied kiss.

I was suddenly reminded of every romantic story I’d ever heard. They all spoke of feeling so close to someone that they felt like an extension of yourself. I wasn’t sure if it was completely true, but there was no denying how at home our bodies were. The way our tongues wrapped around one another and how our noses bumped so gently in the chaos was unmatched by any meeting driven by lust or need.

His hips met mine over and over again, no matter how hard I tried to keep him closer. Even when my hips chased his to be held longer, Spencer was persistent in the ruthless pace. Because like me, he was lost in the euphoria. I knew it from the sound of his whimpers and the way he bit my lip just a little bit harder.

“Tell me what you want, little girl,” he begged. Not ordered. Begged.

“You,” I answered without any doubt, “I just want you.”

His response came even faster, even more desperate and scratchy as it came through his lips into mine.

“You have me. For the rest of my life and whatever comes after, I will take care of you.”

There was nothing left to say. I could feel the truth and force behind the words as he fucked me harder, eliciting one more quiet cry from me in the sound of his name.

“Spencer...”

When he returned the call, though, it wasn’t with any name I’d heard from him before.

“So you better get used to this feeling,” he said through a smile that I felt on my lips before he drew back. He looked me in the eye as he buried himself in me, tensing to hold himself back just a few seconds longer. To see the look on my face and let that be the feeling of us giving in to each other for the first time in our new story.

“Because I’m never going to grow tired of this, Mrs. Reid.”

Mrs. Reid.

That was going to be my name.

Mrs. Reid.

That was the only thought running through my mind as I felt the coil in my gut snap and all of my muscles tense around him. There were no whorish sounds left in my lungs, only little whimpers and whines as I tried to claw him closer. Spencer gave up his visual in exchange for kissing me while he finished. My walls held him so tightly that I felt each pulse and every place where his release filled me. But nothing was more compelling than feeling the way his lip quivered between mine as his body fell onto mine with no grace required.

Spencer could act hard all he wanted, but I felt the way he craved softness. Safety. Love. All things I was happy to give… for a price.

“Say it again.”

“Say what again?” he replied sleepily but animated enough to have a healthy dose of snark. Snark that earned him a rough nudge of my elbow into his ribs.

“You know!”

But naturally, the genius had to play dumb. With a happy little hum, he snuggled closer to me, burying his face into my neck so he could mumble against the skin, “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Please,” I sighed, “for me?”

He seemed to contemplate the plea for a little while longer, with wiggling toes I felt against my shins and a happy sigh that breezed over my neck. I tried to take in those small things while I waited, knowing that while I had a lifetime to learn them, this moment would never come again.

“Fine,” he finally settled, propping himself up to give another soft kiss followed by the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Only for you, Mrs. Reid.”

 ——  The Next Morning ——

 Waking up next to Spencer with a ring on my finger was literally waking up to find my dream come to life. And sure, his light snoring and constant wriggling under the sheets he continued to pull off of me weren’t perfect or picturesque, but they were real. The same way that he chirped when he felt my legs wrap around him in his sleep and only woke when he heard me giggling.

His eyes fluttered open, taken aback by something that he saw. Although I would blame it on the sunlight filtering through the curtains, I was sure that he would give me all the credit.

“Good morning,” he slurred.  

“Hi,” I answered with a smile and an attempt to pull him closer. But my hand was stopped by his, squeezing my palm between his fingers before dragging my knuckles to his lips. From there, he laid a gentle kiss over the diamond he’d placed there the night before. Although it was strange to be outshone by a rock, I let it go for now.

“I know you shouldn’t sleep with it on, but it’s so nice to see it’s still there,” he said with a heavy breath before lowering our still joined hands to rest against his heart. I could feel the way it beat a little bit quicker as I came closer, and I wondered if this was really what it would be like forever.

“I couldn’t resist wearing it.”

“You know you can still change your mind, right? We haven’t told anyone.”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I replied unlike every time before. There was no teasing, no joke or anger or sadness. Just a pure, unadulterated joy.

… Of course, the question did bring up an entirely new anxiety. It did feel a bit silly, but it needs to be expressed.

“Have you?”

“God, no,” he laughed. Like he’d only asked the question to see the way I might panic. But as soon as I heard his assurance, I knew it was the truth.

My mind started to drift back to that first morning we spent together. It felt like a lifetime ago, but everything still felt so very much the same. I wondered if there were things I would change if given the chance. It wasn’t until after I ran through the laundry list of things that we would have been better off without that I realized I’d asked the wrong question.

It wasn’t a matter of what I would have changed, but what I would have kept the same. And the answer was simple. No matter what I would face in my life, I just wanted it to be with him. Everything would be okay as long as I had him.

However, when I tried to kiss him, Spencer still seemed hung up on the things he would have changed. Our lips didn’t connect for even ten seconds before he broke apart, happily laughing through the words, “This is so much better when I’m not hungover.”

“Old man.”

He didn’t argue back, wiggling under the sheets until our chests were pressed together. I took it as a very poor attempt at a power play, because instead of craning my neck to look up at him from my spot, I simply climbed his lanky figure until our noses were pressed together.

“Your old man now,” he corrected, followed by my own clarification of, “You were always mine, Dr. Reid.”

“But now you get to show everyone.” He grinned, letting go of my hand to roam over the curves of my body. His daily attempts to memorize each version of me he held. After a few more moments of silent reverence, I asked the question we’d have to face eventually, lest we face even more awkward, embarrassing moments with the team.

“Who’s gonna tell everyone?”

He barely even considered the options before he shrugged.

“Let’s just… wing it.”

I paused, certain that I’d heard it wrong. “You, Spencer Reid, would like to ‘wing it?’” I repeated, barely able to get the words out without laughing from the absurdity of it all.

But he was quick to assure me, “Yeah, I do.”

“Alright. Whatever you say,” I sighed. I figured that it wouldn’t be worth it to plan right now, anyway. It wasn’t exactly our style. If anything, we would find the perfect time completely by accident.

“You know what we should do first though?” I excitedly announced to the best audience a girl could ever ask for.

“What?”

“Coffee,” I drawled. To which he quickly answered, “I love you an ungodly amount.”

Taking full advantage of that admission, I shoved the poor soul who’d shackled himself to me forever away as I ordered, “Go turn it on. I am craving shitty hotel coffee in bed with my fiancé.”

“Fine,” he resigned with a smile while rolling out of the bed, “Spoiled brat.”

“Your spoiled brat!” I shouted back from safe under the covers that I could finally get back in his absence. They weren’t as good as him, but they would be enough for now. I buried my face into his pillow, snickering as I heard a very tired Spencer call from the bathroom, “Forever mine!”

Just as the sounds of running water filled the room, I lifted my head at the distant sound of familiar chiming beside me.

“Is that my phone?”

I didn’t answer, paralyzed in my place as I felt the most intense sensation of deja vu I’d ever experienced. Right there on the nightstand, I saw the name Hotchner.

Spencer was quicker this time to leave the bathroom, but just as he turned the corner, a thought must have stopped him. Because he paused, staring at me with hotel sheets gathered around me and his phone against my ear.  

He didn’t try to fight me for the device. In fact, he didn’t move at all, watching from a few feet away with a smile I’d never seen before. The kind that I felt so deep inside of me that I realized this was what they meant to share a soul with someone.

 “Hello,” I spoke softly and filled with love, “this is Mrs. Reid.”

 The End.

—————————————————

Epilogue

#spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid request #reid request #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid self insert

[buckyownsmylife]

Say it, just say it - Harry Styles smut

The one where you and Harry hate each other.

Warnings: hate sex, use of the words bitch and whore.

Word count: 3k<

A/N: this is for an anon request that wanted hate sex with Harry Styles. This was the best I could do - apparently the idea of having sex with someone you hate isn’t something my brain can process, so here’s some really rough sex that forces two idiots to deal with their feelings. Also this somehow goes from second person to third person p.o.v. but when I tried to fix it, I didn’t like it. So 🤷‍♀️

Harry hated her.

There was no easy way to say it, no cliche that could hide the absolute honest, factual emotion that he felt towards the woman with whom he was supposed to work for the next four months. 

It had been this way for as long as he could remember. The first time you were introduced to each other, during one of those extremely boring parties the record company insisted on throwing, he’d been praying for a distraction, any type of distraction, and when you appeared, looking just as bored and so much like an angel it hurt to look at you for too long, he thought that was it.

Maybe you were it. Maybe you were the person who would finally make this entire thing make sense, remind him why he even became famous in the first place. Harry had been growing more and more disappointed about his environment with each passing day and he needed something to make him stay, to remind him why he got into this industry in the first place. 

Your face, your gentle way of being, the way you had so suddenly risen to fame and not allowed yourself to get pushed into the wrong kinds of behavior were some of the reasons why he had grown fascinated with you. Now that he had the chance to finally meet his newest idol, maybe you’d be the one to give him a reason to keep going.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. For starters, you barely gave him the time of day, smiling politely after being introduced but remaining mostly silent even though he kept trying to make conversation with you. You looked uncomfortable, and it made him uncomfortable. And when you finally snapped and told him to, “Stop trying, it’s never going to happen,” and immediately left, he decided right then and there - he hated you.

He hated you. He hated the way you made him feel, back then and every time you met since - like he’d done something fundamentally wrong just by being the way he was. He hated that he believed even for a split second that you could help him, that you could take him away from this path of nonsense he’d started walking, only to be left lost and alone. He hated how sweet your perfume was, like an intoxicating cloud trying to make sure he’d never be able to forget you. And most of all, he hated that no matter how hard he tried, he still grew hard as a rock just at the sight of you.

It all became that much harder to deal with when your record label decided you’d be having a joint tour for the next year. Of course, you tried to fight it - Harry wouldn’t be too surprised if he learned you screamed and threw a fit, although he never ever heard of you behaving in such a way… He just had to believe that you did. It was pointless, anyway. The decision had been made with your fans’ best interest - and your managers deep pockets - in mind. And if there was one thing he had to admit, it was that you truly were a professional, even when it came to doing things you didn’t want to do.

That didn’t mean he didn’t feel the urge to tighten his hand around your throat every time you opened your fucking mouth to shoot one of your derogatory comments at him.

“Oh, you’re not going out to party?” You asked, barely glancing up at him from your spot on the couch when he entered the tour bus in search of his phone. Truth was, his plan most definitely had been to go out and get drunk, mostly to try to get some sleep that wasn’t filled with dreams of a very naked you riding him until he was whimpering, but now that you said that, he wanted to go directly to bed if only to prove you wrong.

“What the fuck is your problem, huh?” He asked, reaching out for a bottle of vodka and quickly deciding to forgo glasses and drink directly from it. “Are you so sexually frustrated up on that high horse of yours you can’t let other people get their rocks off in peace?”

That won your attention, your gaze slipping from the television to meet his in clear annoyance. God, why do you still look so fucking cute when you have your eyes narrowed like that? “Excuse me?”

Harry could have dropped it. He very well could. Roll his eyes and make a hasty escape, either to the bar or to bed, like he’d done thousand of times before. But he was tired, and he was moody, and frankly, he was a little sexually frustrated. It didn’t matter how many girls he found to occupy himself with after a show, the second he saw you again when he got back to the bus, his cock was back to a half-mast.

“You heard me.” He decided to throw caution to the wind. At the very least, he’d get to say some things that had been swirling around his head ever since you met, and maybe that would help ease some of the tension inside of him. “You’re such a fucking prude you can’t even go out to grab a drink with your bandmates. Or maybe you don’t go because you know no one would want you. That know-it-all attitude isn’t exactly attractive, but I think you know that already.”

When you darted out of the sofa, he already knew what was going to happen. But instead of doing anything to stop it, he found himself incredibly aroused at being slapped on the face by the woman before him.

“Oh, no, you won’t.” He captured your wrist before you could walk away from him, pulling you so forcefully back to where you stood that you ended up falling over his chest. And then, after a second of tense silence where you both just stood there, staring at each other, Harry finally found the courage - or the stupidity - to do what he’d been wanting for so long.

He leaned down and connected his lips to yours.

He didn’t know what to expect - frankly, it’s not like he was thinking straight. Even though he hadn’t really drank enough to be even near buzzed, you just had that effect on him - acting like an intensifier, making every color seem brighter and every sound louder, igniting his emotions so easily there really was no point in drinking anything whenever you were around.

But still, everything was possible, from him earning another slap - one he wouldn’t feel inclined to complain about, knowing he crossed a lot of boundaries by pulling you this close and possessing you lips like he’d had - to having you run away and never speak to him again. He was prepared for every outcome, except the one where you reciprocated his kiss with just as much hunger as he felt towards your body.

It was all teeth and tongue, he swiped his over the top of your mouth, you bit down on his bottom lip, making him whine and inadvertently rub his hardened cock on your stomach. But you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you only pressed your own body tighter against his, trapping him against the counter while he got lost in your taste and then…

Then you suddenly stepped away, breathing hard while looking at him with an accusatory expression, like this was all his fault, like he’d done something against your will. “Let me go, Harry,” you ordered, pulling the arm that he still clutched, while he stared back at you with a dumbfounded look on his face. “I’m not one of your common whores, I’m not gonna just sit back and be a good girl for you.”

His entire body still tingled from being that close to her, his mind taking too long to catch up to yet another turn of events. He just stared down at her smaller frame, still confused and surprised until yet again, it all turned into anger.

“Not one of my common whores, huh?” Harry could see just how lustful she actually was. He could see it in the way her eyes glinted, how she still hadn’t been able to breathe with her mouth closed since he lost the feeling of her against his lips, and how despite her forceful words, she still hadn’t made an actual effort to step away from him. 

She could pull away if she wanted to. He didn’t have enough control of his body to hold her that tight. And to make it even clearer, he just released her arm, fingers running down her body until her hands were falling limp by her side, surprise clear on her face.

She didn’t want to be anywhere else.

And when that was out in the open, he leaped on her, cradling her face between his hands - so big that they could encompass her entire head - and descended upon her again, mouths connecting and a delicious whimper escaping into the tense atmosphere between them, making her so surprised at herself it gave him just enough of the upper-hand that he managed to invert their positions and have *her pressed against the counter now.

He kissed her like he wanted to leave bruises on her lips, etch this memory in her mind just like he knew he’d never be able to forget about it. He’d be damned if he didn’t show her the best lay of her life. Maybe then she wouldn’t go back to being such a fucking bitch to him.

“Look at this, you say you’re not a whore, but where’s your underwear?” Her breath hitched when Harry’s hand made its way between her legs, finding her not only bare, but wet and ready for him. “My girlfriends all wore panties, like proper ladies do, pet. Where’s yours?”

The poor thing didn’t seem to be able to speak, mostly because she had to bite her lip so she wouldn’t say something that would stop him from toying with her clit, making her pussy clench in the most delicious of ways.

“God, you’re such a fucking temptation.” The way his warm breath hit her face, before he kissed her cheek while he kept playing with her, only added to the warmth she felt exponentially grow inside her body. “You turned me on all this entire time… If I’d known you just walked around without underwear, I would have bent you over a desk and had my way with you long ago.”

At last abandoning her clit, Harry pushed two of his long fingers inside of her, immediately replicating the pace with which he’d rubbed her pussy, no sign of slow and sweet anywhere in his mind.

“But you just have to walk around being a distraction… You know, the least you could do was to play nice. Or do you just like being a bitch all the fucking time?” He nipped on her jaw as she held onto the counter behind her, eyes raised to the ceiling, begging for God to grant her a release. Unfortunately, the only one who could give her that was Harry, and he was not feeling merciful.

“At least your pussy is sweet,” he mocked when he pulled his fingers away from her pussy, right when she was about to reach her high, and wrapped his pretty pink lips around them. “Something about you had to be.”

But she was too breathless, too lost to the desire to care about his taunts. All she could do was watch with bated breath as Harry hummed with the taste of her, eyes fluttering open to meet hers before he smirked.

“Come.” He took her to the couch, not stripping her of her clothes, but fully ripping them from her trembling body. He bent her over the soft cushions, standing back only for enough time to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down, but it was enough for her to find her voice again.

“Someone can come in…” She pointed out, looking behind her to find him staring at the apex of her thighs, completely ignoring her eyes. He looked almost hypnotized by what he saw. She could only flush in embarrassment as she imagined. She *knew how wet she was, she could feel it. It dripped from her, slowly running down her thighs and making her feel weaker than she already was.

“I don’t care.” Harry’s voice broke her from her thoughts, seeing him still attentively looking at her offering. “Let them watch, if they want. Let them see how good you take it.” And that was all the warning she got before he pushed himself inside of you, stretching her like no one else had ever done before.

He didn’t give her any time to adjust, either. Immediately settling on a bruising pace, he fucked her hard, like he had decided to eliminate every single ounce of frustration he’d ever had with her right then, with the help of her body.

“Get your hands off your cunt.” He slapped her hand away, the one she’d been using to rub her little clit in the urge to reach that high again, too scared he’d take it from her once more. “It’s mine now.”

And so his thumb settled right where she’d been, swiping her nub with surprising dexterity for someone who was keeping such a steady and forceful pace as he bruised her cervix. His sneer was the only thing that warned her of the persistence of his temper.

“Don’t like following orders unless it’s for me to touch your sweet pussy, huh?” She was too immersed in the pleasure, the sounds of their rough sex making her head swirl inside the empty bus. She’d never been fucked this hard in her life, and it sated some deep desire she’d never even acknowledged she had until that very moment.

“I fucking knew you weren’t some precious little innocent thing,” Harry continued, still keeping up his pace. “You’re a slut, you like being fucked like a whore, isn’t that so?” He pulled her so her back would be attached to his front, and she gasped with the change of position.

“Answer me.” All she could do was nod, but that was enough for her torturer, who suddenly seemed much too interested in her jaw, on the skin of her neck, whatever part he could reach with his soft, pillowy lips.

“Admit it,” he whispered, so differently from how he’d been speaking up until then that she almost missed it. “Admit that you’ve wanted this just as much as I did.” The implications of what he meant had her tightening around him, and his groan was as delicious to hear as the first notes of his solos.

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t open her mouth to say it, because it was just too much. It would make this moment more real, more burdensome than she could bear. This was supposed to be only sex. She couldn’t deal with any emotions.

“N-no,” she tried to assert, but it sounded weak and unconvincing even to her own ears. And the whine that escaped her lips when Harry pulled out of her only served to solidify that image of her.

“Yes. Say it,” he urged, having turned her around before thrusting his member back inside of her all at once. “We both know it’s the truth. You just have to say it. Tell me you’re mine.”

His thumbs brushed on her cheekbones while his cock dragged in and out of her channel and the sensations were too much for her, especially when he was looking at her like *that. “I-I can’t,” she resisted. “I can’t get closer to you.”

Harry didn’t like that. No more soft caresses, his hands left her face to grip the cushions underneath her, so he could speed up his movements once more, pounding her against the couch.

“Oh, so you prefer to touch yourself while thinking of me, and leaving me frustrated, is that it?” The way he was talking to her had her tightening around him once more, and she knew it wouldn’t belong until she cummed all over him. “Too fucking bad, the only way I can stand to be close to you now is if I’m buried in this little cunt.”

Her vision blurred and she buried her nails in his biceps, her mouth falling open right when Harry ordered her to, “Cum, fucking cum.” Her pussy clenching around him brought him to his own orgasm, and he threw his head back as he too reached his high.

They relished in the aftermath for a while, enjoying the comfortable silence that had fallen between them for the first time. But when Y/N tried to push him away so she could clean herself up, Harry lifted his head to look her in the eye and said, in the most serious voice she had ever heard him use, “You’re not going to sleep without me. I wasn’t joking.”

And she was surprisingly okay with that.

#my fics #harry styles smut #smut #harry styles #my requests #harry styles request #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles reader inserts #harry styles fanfiction