#terrance swaino x reader

[darlingshane]

when you call me darling

Swaino x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Warnings: Explicit. Sex Work. Cam Girl. Smut. Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Panty Kink. Edgeplay.

WC: 5,6k

Summary: You're meeting Swaino for the first time face to face. It should be simple except for the fact that you work as a cam girl, and he's one of your most loyal clients.

-- Read below or at AO3.

A/N: This is fiction. Please stay safe and don't do this if you're a cam sex worker, unless that's your thing. // Fair warning: I use the word darling 18 times in here. And I gave reader a fake name for her online profile.

 You've totally lost your mind…

The words of your friend echo over and over in your head, minutes away from meeting Swaino. Maybe you have really lost it by agreeing to meet one of your members in person, but you're safe here. You picked this pub that Bridget owns exclusively because she's there behind the bar in case this whole thing is a bust. It eases you up knowing that she's close by. The thing that worries you the most is when he realizes you're not the same girl from the website. She's part of you, and looks like you, sure, but she's bolder and sexier and less scared in front of a camera than in real life. You should probably call it, he's going to see immediately through the veil of smoke. Your posture alone; you're so anxious right now that you can't hold yourself as poised as you do in all your pictures and videos.

All your interactions so far have been virtually ever since Swaino came upon your profile on Kinky Fans about three months ago. He started purchasing a handful of pictures and videos of Sweet Lexi, your online persona, before signing up for a full membership to access all your content. He went further and bought one of the priciest perks you offered, and one of those was an exclusive video made just for him where you get off in a pair of panties, and then you'd send said-pair-of-underwear to the buyer. After that, he even got two more in the following weeks. He claimed he was not a panty sniffer, and that you had awoken something on him, he couldn't truly explain. He was completely infatuated with you, that's for sure, and part of you loved that someone was getting off to the smell of you somewhere not too far away. You sent all those to a town in New Hampshire, roughly 50 miles away from your home city, Boston.

A month later or so, you accepted his request to face cam privately. It was one of those things you've only done a handful of times, cause live interactions and streams have always stressed you out. Swaino seemed sweet in his messages and wasn't demanding or degrading like any other you got constantly, so you decided to give him a chance.

By his profile picture, you couldn’t tell shit about how he looked, since it was just a snapshot of a red motorcycle. When he popped out on your screen during your call, you could only see his top half, but he was surprisingly good-looking at first glance. He didn't have the same quality webcam or the lighting set-up that you had strategically placed to highlight your best features and make yourself look better; but you could tell he had a handsome face with strong angles, held on broad shoulders and a thick neck.

His eyes were kind and playful, and his lips were sexy as hell, framed by a beard, in the shape of a goatee. You weren't particularly fond of that style, but it suited him.

Most guys you had interacted with live like this never show themselves on cam, they would stay in the shadows behind a random profile picture, watching and asking you to do this and that while they masturbated. Swaino was different, he wanted that connection and went the extra mile of giving you the opportunity to see his face.

He was plainly wearing a black hoodie, half opened, with no visible shirt underneath, just two gold necklaces hanging around his neck.

You, however, were laying sideways on your bed, showing your whole figure dressed in provocative red, lacy lingerie set of bustier and panties.

Within the first three minutes, you fell for the Swaino of it all. He’s a talker, which works great, cause firstly you weren't good at first impressions. Secondly, the longer he'd stay on the line, the more money you'd get. And thirdly, it gave you the opportunity to meet someone genuine that didn't want you just to take off your clothes right off the bat. He needed to seduce you, and he absolutely did.

It was shocking, though, to find someone different for a change, you almost felt sorry for collecting his money.

He asked how was your day going to break the ice, and then a series of mundane questions that eased you up into performing for him. Being behind a screen was very liberating. You felt sexy seeing him react to the way you moved, and how you took off your underwear, touching yourself teasingly over the fabric, and wetting that fourth pair that you'd sent to him the next day. Though he had seen it all already, he looked transfixed as if it was the first time he ever set his eyes on you.

It went on like that for weeks. Some days he only wanted to talk about everything and anything going on in your lives, and you did so for hours until you learned almost everything about each other. He was incredibly funny, sort of douche-bag sometimes for the stories he told about his friends and work, but it was part of his charm, and you couldn’t deny being a little attracted to it all. It made you crazy enough to agree to meet in person.

Preparing yourself for a face to face meet, you poked around his socials and saw for yourself if he was the guy he said. He didn't have much presence online. Only Facebook and Instagram accounts that were basically ghost towns. He had only a few pictures with friends and family, a dog, and that red bike you got used to seeing whenever he interacted with you, or indirectly with your profile.

And now, here you are, at Bridget's pub, downing a soda while you wait. He’s fifteen minutes late. He probably hit traffic on the way in, or maybe he got cold feet and decided not to show up at all. You check your phone and there’s nothing. Would it be bad to be a little disappointed if he doesn't come? Probably. One thing everyone said to you when you went looking for advice at the beginning of your career at Kinky Fans was never to meet in person subscribers and such. If they pay, they might feel entitled to something else, and could get really ugly really fast, they said. You’ve made it clear that this isn’t part of what you do online. This is just two people meeting. Nothing else, nothing more.

“Still late?” Bridget interrupts your train of thought, “what’s it been, half an hour?”

“Uh, yeah. He must be close,” you glance at her, “don’t look at me like that. He said he’d come.”

“You really like him, don't you?”

“Not really…” crossing your arms on the edge of the table, you let out a long sigh,“I like some things about him. And I wanted to see if there was something more, you know? But maybe you were right. Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“He'll show up if he knows what's good.”

He has to show up, right? You start to doubt everything he’s ever told you as Bridget goes back to work. And just as you start thinking that you’re being stood up, you see him walk past the window. You recognize him by his signature goatee and perfect hair before he steps inside the bar.

Without being too eager, you draw some air and wait a couple of seconds, as he scans the crowd, before rising from your chair and putting your hand up midair.

His eyes land on you, and you put your hand down. He quickly nods and walks in your direction. You notice he's carrying a small bouquet as he gets closer.

When he stops and stands in front of you, you both open your mouths simultaneously to greet the other.

 “Hey.”  “Hi.”

“I'm sorry, I'm late. I got stuck at work, and then I stopped to get these…”  he apologizes, smiling nervously, showing you the flowers in his hand, “I know you said—”

“It's okay,” you cut him off, “I'm just glad you came. Dahlias, huh?”

“Your favorite flower,” he swallows, holding the bouquet out, “here.”

“Thanks,” nodding shyly, you brush his fingers as you take the flowers from his hand.

You sit back down on your chair, and place the dahlias on the table. He takes off his jacket and sits across from you.

Swaino stares at you for a long moment with those big brown eyes of his that seem naughtier up close before exhaling with longing, “you're even prettier than I thought.”

“You're cuter than I thought,” you smirk, propping an elbow on the table, holding your chin on your palm.

“Ah, c'mon, don't give me cute,” he whines comically, leaning back on his chair, “puppies are cute.”

You shrug, amused, “you kinda look like a big puppy in a hoodie.”

He scoffs, and hangs his head down.

“Alright, you're very handsome, Mr. Swaino. That better?”

“Did you say very?” gazing at you bashfully, a strand of his hair moves across the side of his forehead, “I wasn't fishing for that, but I'll take it.”

“You're also very humble.”

And you thought meeting him would be awkward. It surprises you how quickly you ease up. Screen or no screen, you fall into your usual banter the way that you’ve been used to for the last  few weeks. Talking to him always felt very easy, it shouldn't be different face-to-face, unless he turns out to be an asshole. Which you haven't ruled out yet.

“Do you want a drink?” you ask.

“Uh, sure.”

You wave at one of the waiters, but it's Bridget that comes to take your order.

“Flowers? God, you're easy,” Bridget sighs dramatically.

“Don't tell him that.”

“Right, cause axe murderers care if you're easy or not.”

“Actually, I'm a… a strangler,” Swaino quips between your conversation, “guitar strings are my usual go-to, but I can use anything at hand.”

“That's not funny.”

“Can you just take his order without harassing him?”

“That's not gonna happen. I need to see your ID first,” she says without an ounce of amusement, staring at him.

“What?” his brow knits in confusion, “do I look like I'm underage?”

“Won't get served until you do.”

“Just show it to her.”

He scoffs and reaches for his wallet in his jean's pocket to produce his ID, and hands it to your friend.

“Okay, Mr. Terrance Swaino, if that's your real name, from Manchester, New Hampshire,” she announces a little over the top, scanning his ID thoroughly.

“That is my real name,” he utters, a tad intimidated.

“If something happens to her, I know where you live now.” Bridget continues, handing his ID back, throwing him a menacing look, “And I have a gun. We could all end up on Dateline if you dare to touch one of her hairs. Got it?”

“Yes, ma'am. Can I get a beer now?”

“Draft?”

“Sure.”

“I'm sorry,” you say after she's gone, “she can be a little intense.”

“Nah, that's fine, darling. She's just looking out for you. I get it.”

A smile lightens up your face, hearing him call you the usual pet name he picked out for you.

   That's right, darling.  

   You're so beautiful like that, darling.  

   I wanna suck your tits, darling.  

   You make me so hard, darling.  

   Come for me, darling.  

Those are his usual chants when he's watching you pleasuring yourself. It sends fire to your core seeing that falling from his plush lips every damn time. Including now, you feel that sweet tingle at your crux, and you press your thighs together, hoping he doesn't notice the effect he has on you.

“You okay?” he questions. He must have seen it in your face, that grows hotter by the second.

“Mm-hmm,” you take a long sip of your drink as one of the waiters brings his beer.

Swaino leans back against his chair and tilts his glass up to his lips. Without taking his eyes off you, he downs almost half of it before opening his mouth again.

“Are you going to tell me your real name?”

Your head turns to the side, and you glance out the window for a beat.

“What? You know mine,” he scoffs, “I can call you Sweet Lexi in public if you prefer, but something tells me you don't wanna.”

“Shhh, no, don't call me that,” you hesitate, and pause, “I guess it's fair to tell you, since I know yours… just promise to keep it to yourself. I can't have people online figuring out my real name, you know?”

“Okay, promise.”

You clear your throat and utter your actual name, watching his lips curve up as you do.

“See, that suits you better.”

“Yeah?” you fold your arms on the table, lean forwards, and confess openly, “I… I like it when you call me darling.”

With a grin plastered on his face, he swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, and mirrors your position, leaning even further, so his face is just a couple of inches away from yours, as a flaming electricity is held in the air between you and him.

“I like when you call me baby,” he hushes.

“Oh, I know.”

“Do you call that to every guy or just me?

“Why? Would it make you feel special if I did?”

He simply shrugs.

“I don’t talk to guys the way I talk to you, but sometimes I have… I…” you pause, clear your throat, and glance around before uttering, “most guys are older than you and prefer other terms.”

His brow knits, “like what? Daddy?”

You nod.

“Would you call me daddy if I asked you to?”

“Client’s choice, baby. I probably wouldn’t like it, but I’d do it.”

“Say, what else do you like about me, darling?” He circles back.

“I like your nose.”

“This nose?” the tip of his nose strokes yours, side to side, “what else?”

“I like your lips.”

“Hmm, do you want me to kiss you?”

Your chip dips, “are you going to?”

“I would, but I’m afraid your friend will shoot me if I do.”

“She won't,” a soft laugh bares your teeth.

“Either way, it'd be worth it, right?” he purrs, and licks his lips, arming himself with valor.

He unfolds one of his arms to trace your jaw with his index finger, ever so subtly, as your eyelashes flutter. This fingertip stops beneath your chin, and slightly tilts your head up, so he can capture your mouth.

His beard tickles your skin as his lips slowly bounce against yours, pressing a few tender kisses.

“Are you really that easy?” he stops kissing you, but his lips remain painfully close to yours, wrapped in a raw intimacy of hushed words between both mouths.

“I guess… only when I want to. Would you think less of me if I told you that I wanna take you to my place already?”

“Oh, baby. I'd never think less of you. You're a fucking dream come true. I respect a woman that quickly makes up her mind like that.”

“I've never done this before. You know… meeting a client.”

“I know.”

“That's not what I do,” you point out again, in case you haven't made it clear yet.

“I know, darling. I'm just surprised that you wanted to meet me at all. Are you trying to decide if you should take me home or not?”

“Kinda,” you bite your bottom lip, questioning yourself if you should. “I like you, Swaino. You just have to promise you'll be nice.”

“I will. I swear,” he exhales with urgency, “I fucking promise, I won't hurt you.”

He brought his car for the trip. You climb into the passenger seat, and guide him a few blocks away, where your apartment's settled. It's brand new, you've been living here for less than a year. When your profile took off, and you started making big bucks, it gave you the opportunity to move to a bigger, industrial apartment. It's a three bedroom/two bathroom. Big open space and arched windows. One of the bedrooms is where you work. You keep that door closed for now.

After all the formalities of showing him inside, dropping your keys on its tray, taking off your winter layers, and having another drink to soothe yourself smoothly into the whole thing, you take him to your bedroom at the end of the hallway, and slip out of your shoes.

With a little trepidation, you sit on the edge of the bed and watch him step out of his Nikes.

“Take off your hoodie,” you utter, and he obeys with no question, slowly unzipping his hoodie. He wants to show himself as much as he wants to see you.

“See anything you like, darling?” he grins, tossing the hoodie to the chair in the corner, as you find yourself staring like an idiot at his muscled-broad chest.

“Mm-hmm,” it’s not enough to express how much you want him right now.

You draw a long breath, and gingerly remove your sweater under the shadow of his dark eyes. Afterwards, you unclasp your bra at the front to release your tits.

“You're fucking perfect, darling,” he hushes under his breath.

“C'mere, baby,” you pull at his belt, and scoot backwards on the mattress, pulling him along till he ends up on top of you.

One of his legs ends up wedged between your knees, as he props himself on his forearms. He inhales and seals your lips, as your arms curl around his torso. Taking it slowly, you make out as you get comfortable into the whole ordeal of having him here, in your home, in your room, in your bed. It's hard to let go of that thought. His tongue swiping past your lips makes it easier. He's firm, unpredictable, and sloppy at first. But maybe he's just trying to figure out your mouth. It doesn't feel bad, though. No sir. Not once he's found the best way to make you hum at the swirling of his kiss. Makes you giddy and relaxed every passing second.

The lock of your legs open, and you nudge him to have him nestle in between.

His body feels amazingly against your chest and palms. Your fingers glide up his spine, and you catch his skin turning into goosebumps as his hips start waving against yours. There are two layers of thick denim between his erection and your slicked folds, but you can definitely feel him swelling.

And all of a sudden, you can feel your core anxiously throbbing at the desperate grinding of his hardness.

He breaks the kiss, and angles himself to the side to make room for his fingers that trail down your body to undo the buttons of your jeans. He tugs them down to your knees before letting his hand sneak beneath the elastic of your panties without hesitation.

He doesn't ask verbally, but nods at you as a warning that he's going straight for the cake. You nod back and close your eyes when his fingers reach your slit.

“Fuck, darling,” he exhales, soaking his fingers in your arousal.

Your eyes flick open, locking with his bloodlust browns that are ready to scorch the earth with just one gaze. He starts with your core, though. His touch, as good as it feels having your clit to play with, doesn't have the same effect as the way he looks at you right now. It's probably you've grown used to having him watch you masturbate. It's always been enticing from the get-go to allow his eyes to witness the way you undress and pleasure yourself for him behind a camera.

He has a front seat now that comes with VIP access to your body like no other member has ever had. It looks like that's what he desires, to watch you come by his hand that anxiously rubs harder to make you lose the little control you had until that point.

You rotate your hips involuntarily and ball the sheets as his fingers poke and slip at your entrance. He keeps them in, massaging the roof, as the vicious pressure of his thumb meeting your clit repeatedly drags you to the edge.

“Do you think about me touching your pussy like this?” Asks Swaino.

“Sometimes,” your breathing falters over his mouth.

“Yeah? Wanna come for me, darling?”

“Hmm.”

“Go on, beautiful,” he purrs, kissing your lips, “don't be shy.”

Letting him take you to ecstasy, you bring one hand to hold onto his neck, as our legs start trembling near that crucial point. A few strokes after, you let a strangled moan, and clasp your knees together, trapping his hand between your thighs when you come undone.

“Good girl,” he praises, and peppers your face and neck with kisses, feeling your opening contracting around his fingers before pulling them out, “can I kiss your pussy?”

You huff a laugh in between pants, “later, I… I can’t right now, baby.”

“Just a quick kiss. I swear, I just wanna get a taste of you.”

“Alright, go ahead,” you breathe out and part your legs further, as your body relaxes.

Swaino licks his lips and ducks his head towards your crotch. With a finger, he gently strokes one side of your outer labia before pressing a small but lingering kiss. He stays there for a moment, humming softly, smelling, and savoring your taste without even stimulating your tenderness.

Basking in the afterglow, you lace your fingers in his hair until he comes back to you.

“I’d eat you all up if I could,” he prints a wet kiss in between your breasts as he climbs back up.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“You’re a fucking dream,” he reiterates.

“You already said that.”

“Bears repeating,” he cups your jaw.

“You’re sweet.”

“I’m a sweet puppy, I know,” he scoffs.

“Are you always like this with all your conquests?”

“Truth?” his brow raises, and you nod, “no, I’m not always like this. You’re special.”

“Me or Lexi?”

“You sweetheart, you. I mean… Yes, I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t think about her… but it’s you, she’s partly you, and you move like her, sound like her, and come like her… It’s…”

“It’s complicated.”

“Yes… but I want you. I swear.”

“Good. Come here, puppy,” you frame his face and pull him into a kiss. Now that you’ve recovered fully, as you play with his tongue, you use your feet to push your bottom layers that were still wrapped around your ankles. Then, in return, you start undoing his pants and see that he’s still hard as you palm him over his boxers.

He’s shown you his cock a couple of times. Pictures are always tricky, he looked big from the angle you saw. And he feels just as big in your fist as your fingers tuck around his hardness.

“Wanna fuck me now, baby?” You hush, pulling away from his delicious lips, and he grunts when you jerk him a little harder, “look at you, you’re so desperate for a fuck, are you?”

“God, you’re gonna kill me,” he grumbles. You know he likes it when you talk to him like that. A few times you’ve played with orgasm control, either him controlling you or the other way around. It’s very enjoyable to see him struggling when you have the power.

“What if I tell you that you can fuck me as hard as you want?” it’s then that you slide your fingers under the fabric and feel his aching erection, throbbing in your fist, wet at the tip.

“I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that I’ll come before my cock touches your pussy if you keep talking to me like that, darling.”

“Yeah?” you laugh softly, and release him, “go on, take off your pants and put on a condom.”

He obeys and once he’s stripped down and wrapped his dick, he kneels between your legs, extends your arms over your head, as his lips drag up from navel up to your neck. He kisses your tits on the way up, flattening his tongue over your hardened nipples and giving them a good licks and little sucks.

You can feel his length tapping your pussy as he bathes you with kisses, spit, and the scrape of his beard that feels amazing on your skin. It makes you ache for more, and you reach with your hand to guide him inside you.

“Look, who is desperate for a fuck now,” he parts from your chest and props himself to his hands, gazing down to see your hand sheathing him in the sweet confinement of your walls.

A shiver runs up his spine, and he thrusts on reflex at the sensation of your opening pressing around him.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, “like that, darling?”

“Yeah,” you grip at his waist, looking down at the same point where your sexes meet, and pull him harder against you. He gazes with hunger at your wobbly boobs, dancing with every thrust, and he sends one of his giant paws to clutch one of them. He stays propped on the other, as the pace of his driving grows more sharp and erratic.

You can tell he’s not going to last soon by the way he twitches inside you, so you use your fingers to rub your clit.

“That a girl, come with me,” he urges, as his face contours, and the hand on your tit moves to hold your face. His thumb nears the corner of your mouth, and you stick your tongue out to suck it between your lips and watch him struggle close to the end.

“You’re fucking mean, too. I swear. You're killing me,” he groans, and you smile around his finger.

You suck on harder, and rub yourself faster until he inevitably falls on top of you when the orgasm claims his body, taking him to cloud nine. It takes you a moment to be there with him, but eventually you do too.

His nose is buried in your neck, and his length is still semi hard inside you, as you catch your breath.

“My goodness, you smell amazing.”

You fit one hand to his nape, smiling to yourself as you come down from your high.

“That was… fucking great, baby,” you utter gruffly and clear your throat.

“Yeah? You’re glad that I came?” He lifts his head to look at you.

“I do. Yeah.”

“Wanna go for seconds later?” he sweetly brushes away the hair strand sticking to your forehead.

“Absolutely.”

“How are you even real, darling?”

“Maybe I’m not… maybe you’re dreaming.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. You feel pretty real,” he tilts his head and captures your lips ever so gently.

It’s later than you order dinner and hang out on that same bed, just watching TV and feasting like kings and queens without any worries in the world, as if you’d have done it many times before. The longer you’re with him, the more obvious the chemistry between you two becomes. It’s palpable in the way you laugh and talk with each other.

“Can I ask you something?” he mumbles, having his arm wrapped around you, cuddled against the headboard while you watch a movie.

“Sure,” you half glance at him, as you play with his fingers.

“You don’t gotta answer if you don’t wanna, but I’m just curious why you show your face in your pics and videos.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I used to crop it at the beginning, but I… I guess I like being watched. All of me. Not just my body. I felt…” you pause, seeing him listening closely, “I used to have very low self-esteem and when I put myself out there the first time it was just for fun. One day I got all these comments, telling me how sexy I was, and that made me feel good… and eventually I just didn't care about showing my face. I don’t know if that makes sense. The Internet is filled with porn now. I’m not worried that someone will find me. My closest friends know what I do, and I don’t think my family will ever figure it out. “

“Yeah, it makes perfect sense, darling.”

“Can I ask you something now?”

“Go ahead.”

“What do you do with my panties?”

He scoffs and looks to the other side for a beat, “you don’t wanna know.”

“C’mon, I wanna know,” you insist, amused, and cup his chin to guide his eyes back to you.

“I uh…” he struggles to get the words out, as his ears turn red, “don’t judge me.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“I ruined two pairs. I wanted to… and I just rubbed a couple using them, you know? Made me feel closer to you or whatever. I washed them, but it's not the same anymore.”

“What about the other two?”

“I just like smelling them sometimes. Do you think that’s weird?”

“Swaino…. Why would I think it’s weird? It’s flattering, actually.”

“Yeah? Makes you feel sexy and special?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Can I…” his lips pull up on a lopsided smile.

“What?”

“Can I see where you work?”

“Why?”

“I just want to see where I met you. Can I? C'mon, I know you wanna show me,” the cocky bastard insists, and you fold and take him to the other room.

“See? It's just a room,” you give him the full tour of it. There's a queen bed with a metal-framed headboard and a side table.  A desk parallel to the end of the bed with your computer and a light pointing towards your stage. A dresser filled with toys, and a mirror on top and makeup case on the surface. A chair in the corner, and a closet.

“Turn on the fancy lights, would you?”

There's nothing fancy about the LED lights that illuminate the back of your bed. You set them on a dark shade of blue, and then switch off the ceiling light.

“It's so weird,” he utters from behind the desk.

“I told you.”

“No, not like that. It just gives me…. What's the word? Dejuju?”

“You mean déjà vu?”

“Yeah, I'm having one of those right now. I feel like I’ve been here before,” he walks around the desk and sits at the end of the mattress.

He kinda has. Multiple times.

You sigh and get on the bed, crawling at his back, curling your arms around his neck.

“That’s where I see you,” you point at the reflection in the shiny surface of the black screen in front of you.

“I figured.”

“You wanna fuck me here, don’t you?” you whisper in his ear and nibble playfully his earlobe.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Baby… every guy wants to fuck me here.”

“So, I’m not that special.”

“You’re here, aren't you? You wouldn't be if you weren't. What do you wanna do with me?” As much as you want to keep this space separate, you can’t stop yourself from wanting to please him right now. You’re having so much fun that it really doesn’t matter if he fucks you here or anywhere.

“Seriously?”  

“Yeah, seriously. Tell me your fantasy.”

“I uh… I don't really have a fantasy,” his brow knits, as he gives it a thought.

“What's your favorite video of mine?”

His lips automatically curve up at your question, “I mean besides the ones you've made for me? I guess… the one you did with Scary Mary was pretty good.”

Of course, he likes that one. You've done a couple of collaborations with two other girls, and your most popular video yet in your channel is one you did last year with your friend Mary. It was titled– Brat learns manners feat. Scary Mary. She's one of the top tier stars in Kinky Fans, and the majority of her content is BDSM related. You're into some aspects of it, but you haven't really explored further than some light bondage and impact play.

“Well, I'm not doing that with you.”

“It's okay, darling. I guess my only fantasy was getting to fuck you. I didn't have an elaborate plan… just plain ol' fucking.”

“That was a great fuck, baby. We could do what we usually do. You tell me what you want from me and I do it… within reason.”

“Hmm, that simple?”

“That simple. What’s it going to be?”

Even simpler, he just chooses to remove your shirt, and have you sit naked on his lap. Facing that screen that remains switched off, he uses the reflection and asks you to look at yourself while he pushes your legs apart and touches your pussy. He tugs at your lips and grazes every inch of your vulva before tucking two fingers inside you. His opposite hand moves up to your face and slips another two fingers into your mouth at the same time. He wants to control your orgasm, and you let him. The effect he has on you is scary and thrilling.

You keep grinding against his cock with your ass, desperate for a release the longer he draws it out. He viciously edges your orgasm three times, making a mess out of you, until he finally lets you come.

The cherry on top is when he fucks you again. He places you down on your front and spreads your cheeks to see his cock fully disappearing into your opening over and over. He makes you beg for an orgasm once again, and you comply with a lot of whining and drooling over the sheets until he finally allows you to.

#swaino #swaino x reader #terrance swaino x reader #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #fanfiction #darlingwrites

[lucy-sky]

Happy Halloween (Terrance Swaino x f!Reader)

"Your history with Terrance Swaino is mostly the history of constant flirting and occasional sex from time to time. You’ve never really considered him boyfriend material, but something kept drawing you together every time you visited your hometown. The thing is, you’ve always been good friends with his sisters, so he always knew when you were around."

Warnings: semi-public sex, cursing, oral sex f receiving, awkward situation, fluffy ending

Words: 1361; gif by me (an old one so no watermark); AO3 link if you prefer reading there

A/N: I didn’t plan to write anything about Swaino any time soon, but my hand slipped. Also ughhh why do i feel like my writing is so... clumsy? -_- Anyway, it’s past 2 a.m. and I apologize for possible typos.

You could definitely tell Swaino liked your Halloween outfit. It’s a rather simple one this year - you didn’t really have time to invent much, so you just dressed up as a witch. A hat, dark dress that flatters your curves and those stockings with spider webs and cute lacy garters with little black ribbons.

This detail in particular caught Swaino’s attention the most - the way he stared at your thighs when you played charades with his nephews, well… You could swear he was about to drool, and actually you really enjoyed yourself.

Your history with Terrance Swaino is mostly the history of constant flirting and occasional sex from time to time. You’ve never really considered him boyfriend material, but something kept drawing you together every time you visited your hometown. The thing is, you’ve always been always good friends with his sisters, so he always knew when you were around.

Swaino’s family is big and loud. The party is held in his elder sister’s house, and as always it’s a lot of fun. You’re happy to be here, but still hanging out with so many people and children is a little overwhelming, especially considering the fact you didn’t have much time to have rest after a long drive from the place you currently live. Standing in front of the mirror in the guest bathroom you drench your flushed face a little, trying not to ruin the makeup completely, and close your eyes, enjoying this moment of privacy. A sudden creak of the door almost causes you to jump.

“Happy Halloween, princess!”

“Shit”, you let out a shaky breath as you turn to see Swaino standing in the doorframe. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?”

“Oh, really?” Terrance cocks his brow. Tonight he’s wearing a Dracula costume. Well, basically he just put a black and red cape over a white shirt and black jeans and combed his hair back. Something about this outfit makes him look like a cartoon villain, especially when he looks at you like that. “And I got a feeling you’ve been waiting for someone… Since the door wasn’t locked.”

“What?” you snort a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, I just forgot to lock it up, that’s all. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Well, shame,” he smirks, as he approaches you, his large hand finding your waist and slowly moving down the curve of your butt. His fingers brush against your cheekbone as he slides his other hand to cup the back of your head, pulling you into a suddenly urgent and needy kiss. And you really hate to admit it, but you know you actually missed him. Otherwise you’d never let him kiss you like that or knead you like that. But oh - his lips are so soft, and the way he licks into your mouth makes your head spin as if you’re drunk. You almost allow yourself to get lost in all these sensations when it suddenly dawns on you.

“Swaino, are you fucking crazy?!” you hiss against his mouth, trying to push him back. “We are NOT doing it here. No way!”

“Huh?” he frowns in confusion, meeting your gaze. “Why the hell not?”

“Because there’s plenty of people over here, you dumbass! Someone can see or hear us… And there’s children…”

“Okay, now you’re being ridiculous, darlin’” Swaino raises his eyebrows. “No one’s gonna see us, come on. I locked the door now. And those kids are so fucking loud, I don’t think they’d hear anything even when I make you scream…”

“Ugh. Don’t flatter yourself, T,” you giggle as he kisses down the side of your neck, his beard tickling your skin. “There’s no way I’m gonna scream here in this bathroom, with your entire family right beneath us.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles wickedly. “You wanna bet?”

You almost yelp as he swiftly seizes your hips, urging you to sit on the bathroom counter, and drops on his knees between your legs.

“Been thinking of those pretty thighs the whole goddamn day,” he murmurs as he nips on the tender flesh right above the hem of your stocking.

“Oh gosh,” you mewl quietly as he dips his head down to your center, and you feel the warmth of his breath through the thin fabric of your panties. “Oh fuck!..”

Thankfully Swaino’s smart enough to realize you don’t have that much time for teasing, and your panties are quickly pulled down your legs so that he can plunge his tongue between your folds without any barriers. Breathing raggedly and biting your lips, you throw your head back, fingers tangling into his hair, as he devours you like you’re his last meal. He’s a bit messy, but damn, his eagerness is incredibly hot. And when he adds fingers to the mix it’s getting even harder to stay quiet. No, you don’t scream, not really, but the string of gasps and whimpers that escapes you as you come brings a shit-eating grin on his face.

“There ya go, baby girl. Love to hear that.”

Grabbing the strings of his silly cape, you pull him into another heated kiss and he groans into your mouth when your hand finds his crotch

“Sure hope you got some protection on you,” you whisper as you keep massaging him through the coarse fabric of his jeans.

“You know me damn well, sweetheart,” he grins, reaching his back pocket to get the condom.

“You’re such a slutty bastard,” you laugh breathlessly.

“You love it though, huh?”

You don’t answer that. Who the hell needs words right now? When he pushes all the way inside you, it feels so good. The stretch, the pace, the way he grunts into the crook of your neck with each thrust… You already feel this familiar pressure building within your core, your fingers find your clit as you chase your release, Swaino’s cock is throbbing deep inside you, and you’re so, so close!... When someone knocks on the door.

“Uncle Terry?”

Swaino shudders, startled, almost losing his balance, bottles of shampoo, liquid soap and something else fall on the floor with a loud thud.

“Shit, fuck!” he curses.

“Uncle Terry, are you there?..” you hear his niece’s high-pitched voice. “You promised to help us carve that huge pumpkin!”

“Yeah, uh… Just give me a sec here, sweetheart! I-I’ll be right back, okay? Just-just go back downstairs, okay? I’ll be right back!” he shouts in reply, clearly trying not to sound annoyed - you know very well that he doesn’t want to upset the kid.

“Okay!” you hear the girl reply, and for the next few seconds you both don’t move, practically don’t breathe.

“You think she’s gone?” you whisper very quietly.

“I guess,” he shrugs. “You uh… You okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Uh huh. I… I think I came though, so uh-” he stutters, face slowly turning red. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like that, but all of a sudden you feel a wave of inexplicable tenderness towards this man.

“It’s fine, T,” you smile. “Really. You already made me scream after all.”

“Okay,” he lets out a small laugh and helps you get back on your feet with an unexpected gentleness.

“Shit, I think I ruined your Dracula hair,” you snort, as you take a good look at him. “Here, let me fix it…” you bring your fingers to comb through his dark mane.

“T’s okay, I look even sexier like that, right?” he chuckles. “Hey um… You’re in town for… How long?..”

“Planned to stay for a couple of weeks. Why?”

“Just wanted to take you out for dinner or something.”

“Dinner, really?” you raise your eyebrow. “I mean… You really mean dinner, or it’s just a more elegant way to say you wanna fuck?”

“Look, I actually don’t mind both… But yeah, I really meant dinner,” he smiles suddenly softly. “What you think?”

Shit. It’s still Terrance Swaino. He’s still not boyfriend material. Absolutely not. And yet… One dinner won’t hurt, right?..

“Okay, T. I’ll think of it,” you smile as you grab his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go get back now. The pumpkin ain’t gonna carve itself.”

Thanks for reading!

#terrance swaino x reader #jon bernthal fanfiction #small engine repair #lucy tries to write

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Wedding Bells, Planning Hell

Pairing: Terrance Swaino x Female!Reader

Warnings: Drug use, Alcohol, Smut (18+), oral, sex

Summary: Slight enemies to lovers. Reader is through in Manchester for a long weekend helping her best friend plan her wedding. The only thing is her friend’s older brother Terrance is hanging around and she hates him...or so she thought. Apparently he's not that bad. And kinda...hot?

A/N: Oops my fingers slipped and I wrote almost 9k worth of fic based on a character I have so many mixed feelings about. Hopefully someone else likes this ahaha enjoy!

-

If you had to look at one more shade of white you felt like your eyes might scorch away. You didn’t even know there were so many varieties, you just figured white was white. But that wasn’t the case, apparently you’d been living a very uncultured life. There was Ivory, pearl, ice, bone, ivory, simply white, scottish road, ivory, christ did you forget to mention ivory? Jesus lord, take me now.

“Mags, I love you so much, like so so much. But if you don’t make a decision I’m gonna pass away. The only white I’m gonna be seeing is the white light of heaven's gates,” you groan, dramatically falling to your knees in front of your poor friend.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, turning in her rickety wooden chair so that she could face you. Her long dark hair was mussed from the amount of times her hands had raked through it and her cheeks were rosy with stress. You’d both been at this for far too long. Your head was practically developing its own pulse.

“The only way you’re seeing heaven is if they take you up just to drop you harder into the pit,” she smirked. “Besides, I wanna do this right. I’m only getting married once, I want this to be perfect! God knows I’m not gettin’ input from George, I need you on this with me.”

You groaned again and picked up her fabric samples, abducting them all and leaving her with two small scraps. If she wasn’t going to choose between fifty then she could choose between two. 

“Then you can pick between ivory and,” you squinted at the tiny loopy font, “chantilly lace? Christ, what even is that?”

“It’s classy is what it is,” Mags sniffed, shooting you a signature hazel eyed glare.

“Then it sounds like we’ve made a decision! At last!” you laughed, clawing the slippery ivory cloth from her fingers and into the discard pile.

“Ugh, you’re almost as bad as Georgie,” she said, playfully shooting you a glare.

You snorted and turned, dumping the table cloth scraps onto the old wooden table and sat back in your chair, wincing as it creaked with your returning weight. Everything in the Swaino’s kitchen was so old you wondered how it managed to sit the whole army that was Mags’ family. The place was filled with antique furniture and chintzy walls, smelling faintly of dinner and hair product, a touch of lingering cigarette smoke filling every room.

It was easy to see how Mags was the way she was, how she got so scrappy and determined. Being the youngest in a family like the Swainos had to be a fight. You shook your head as you watched her dutifully glue the off-white scrap into her heaving wedding scrapbook. It was barely closable with the amount of samples and leaflets and coupons she had bursting out of it. It made you break out into a grin as she struggled to keep the page flat.

“Face it, without me you wouldn’t even have a dress yet, the guests would turn up and you’d still be comparing centrepieces,” you tisked, thinking back to the dreaded first few pages of planning. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know I’m bein’ crazy about all this, its just I want to be able to look out on my wedding day and think, ‘there’s not a single thing I would change’. I want to stroll down the aisle and onto the dance floor and know I did everything right,” Mags declared, resting her head on her hand as she day dreamed. 

Mags had been your best friend since the moment you had started at your new company just a few years ago. The two of you worked in a New York office that her family always prefixed with ‘fancy’ in that knowing sort of way between themselves, and now you were both in her family home taking some time off over a long weekend to plan her wedding to George. You loved the girl, she showed the ropes around work and didn’t let anyone give you shit, but this wedding stuff was making her go full bridezilla. 

You’d arrived the night before, on Thursday, and met half of her family, talking to extremely excited sisters and aunties and uncles, and of course her mother. You’d been bombarded with people. And now you sat with kids blaring cartoons from the livingroom and women on phone calls that rattled through the house. You figured you’d had just about all you could handle for the day. 

“I think it’s time for a little break,” you said, waggling your eyebrows and hoping you could entice her out.

“What? We’ve still got to look at catering, and then there's the cake and the grooms cake and-”

“Margaret Jane Swaino,” you sighed, stopping her in her tracks. “We have been at this since eight this morning and now it’s three in the afternoon. I think we’ve earned ourselves a little drink. Whaddaya say?”

Mags huffed out a breath and stared at you for a moment, pursing her lips. She looked like she could be swayed in either direction until a mournful scream broke through from the lounge and suddenly she was jumping into action. She was hauling her puffy jacket on faster than you could even blink.

“Shouldn’t we go check on the kids and make sure no ones dying through there?” you asked, pulling your own jacket over your back and quirking your brow.

“Nah. We go through there it's gonna be all ‘I want a snack’ and ‘she hit me’ and ‘I shit my pants’,” she snorted, already sneaking over to the sliding door and making her way to the porch. “Get out before it's too late!”

You didn’t need much more convincing than that. Sure, you’d do anything to play polite house guest, but that was way beyond your remit. Escape sounded good.

—---

Well it turned out you were escaping one hell and entering another. 

You didn’t know Manchester particularly well, so when you set off for drinks you let Mags lead the way. So ultimately she chose the local popular spot. Which also happened to be the same bar that Terrance Swaino frequented, Mags’ gross older brother.

“Baby sis! Oh my god, what’re you doin’ back here?” 

His voice sliced through you like a line of rusty barbed wire. Sure enough, he was there in his big black jacket, sporting his usual goatee that made you wonder what decade he was from. Suddenly memories were filling your mind and the thought of him drunkenly slurring “you’re too pretty to be some jerk off’s coffee slave” was all that echoed around your head.  

You’d only met him once before when he’d come to visit Mags for drinks one night and that one night had felt like more than enough time for you to make your mind up on him. He was a childish, gross dickhead. He’d spent the whole night taking cheap flirty shots at you, talking about his friends and dumping on them, and getting totally plastered before needing to be hauled off to his hotel room by Mags when he couldn’t stand anymore. Bleh.

To your chagrin Mags crossed the gloomy room and made a beeline for Terrance. You felt like you might melt into sludge on the old frayed carpet. You stalked behind her and approached his small group of friends, hunching over and appearing as small as possible. Hoping you wouldn’t stand out too much. 

“Ter bear!” Mags laughs, throwing her arms around her brother. “I booked time off work! We’re weddin’ planning.”

“We…? Oh! Fuck, hello gorgeous. Didn’t see ya there,” he grins, finally directing his attention towards you. 

“Hi Terrance,” you say, biting back a sigh. “How you keeping?” 

“I’m keeping very fuckin’ well,” he smirked, running his tongue over his lip. “How bout’ you uh-…?”

You narrow your eyes as you watch him squint at you and for a second it feels like you can actually hear the rusty cogs squealing in his mind. He clearly has no idea who you are. You can already tell that he’s trying to decide if you were a previous conquest or a new challenge. You huff out a breath and put him out of his misery reminding him of your name.

“We met a couple months back after Mags’ engagement. I work with her at the firm.”

“Oh shit! Oh man, right! You’re not from around here, huh? You guys should sit with us and we’ll make sure to give you a warm Manchester welcome. These are the guys,” Terrance said, beginning to gesture to his two smirking friends. “Frank and Packie.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” you murmured, smiling weakly. 

They sent a wave your way and immediately it felt like you were in the spotlight. A new girl, a girl that wasn’t related to anyone there. Fresh meat. You avoided eye contact and quickly sat down next to Mags, folding your arms across yourself and hoping the men would behave themselves. 

“You said you work with Maggie, right? What is it you do there?” Frank asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, I’m a PA as well!”

“What, the boss needs two people to make him coffee?” Swaino sniggers.

“You made that joke last time,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Besides, Mags works for the Chairman, I work for the CEO and it’s more than just getting coffee too.”

“Yeah, man! PA’s have to respond to sensitive emails and set up workshops and meeting spaces,” Packie said with an all too serious stare.

“Uh, yeah that’s right actually…” you confirmed, not used to someone actually knowing what you do.

“Packie actually listens when I rant about my job, don’t ya Pack,” Mags trilled, cutting off your stunned silence. “Not like this fuckin’ idiot.”

She proceeded to mess with Terrance’s hair, rubbing her palm straight into the bouncy mop and sending it wild with static. You giggled as he ripped her hands off of him and started ranting at her, going off in that big broad accent of his. He was waving his arms around, getting comically mad as she unsuccessfully tried not to snort-laugh

“How many times do we have to go over this? The hair’s off limits!’” he growled, desperately trying to smooth it back to how it was.

You shook your head and turned just in time to see Frank roll his eyes as well. It seemed you had an ally. He winked at you in acknowledgment and stood up, asking if anyone would like a drink. You felt your cheeks heat up as you watched him. The man was tall and you had to admit it was a weakness of yours. You were a sucker for big guys that’d make you feel all protected and cherished.

“I’ll take a beer if you’re offering,” you smiled.

“Of course! Anything for you Maggie?”

“I need something stronger, I got the wedding planning guilt foggin’ my brain. Can you get me a double vodka and coke?” 

He snorted at that but nodded and went on his way, taking all six plus feet with him. You must’ve been obvious with your staring cause you noticed Mags’ brother staring right back at you after a few seconds and uncomfortably looked away. Damn it. You prayed the asshole wouldn’t bring it up in front of everyone. 

“So, what is it you do Packie?” you asked, ensuring the conversation stayed away from your staring.

“Well I actually do a couple different odd jobs-”

You let Packie drone on for a little bit and tuned out, satisfied that Terrance wasn’t going to rat on you and sat back waiting on your beer. At least this was a break from the wedding explosion waiting for you when you got back to the house, you thought. Even if you did have to put up with the staring and the dumb flirty comments. 

—

A while later, just as you were relaxing into your buzz, Mags ended up doubling over and puking an oil tankards worth of booze up in the bathroom. You were by her side in an instant of course, sweeping up her hair and telling her it was all gonna be ok, but you knew for a fact that was her out for the count for the foreseeable twenty four hours.

“I just-I just-I..oh,” Mags wailed, not knowing what to say. “I’m soooo sorry, I-”

“Shh, it’s alright, Mags. Let’s get you home, huh?” You reassured, trying to haul her to her feet.

It took a little bit of force but eventually you managed to yank her up and soon you were tottering back through the bar and unsteadily toward the doorway. You bit your lip and kept her balanced over your side, her arm draped messily around your shoulder, but you weren’t quite strong enough to support all of her. Shit. 

Just as you were about to tumble off balance you felt her weight lift from you and just as you righted yourself you looked up to see Terrance on her other side. He grinned over at you and motioned his head, urging you out toward the warm summer night just beyond the doorway.

You blinked in surprise at first but got to walking and soon you were out, breathing in the fresh air and looking up at the moon in a daze. Mags had now passed out, essentially lying across your lap, while Terrance was on her other side. He was talking to someone over the phone, ordering a taxi you eventually realised.

“You have to do this a lot?” he asked eventually, knocking you out of your stupor.

“What?”

“Get my drunk ass baby sister home to safety?” he chuckled.

“Last I remember it was you getting hauled off,” you muttered, defending your friend.

He looked at you, taken aback for a second before he laughed and shook his head. You frowned over at him, wondering what was so funny before he rested his head against the concrete and turned to you once again.

“You don’t like me much do ya?”

You bristled at the accusation and immediately started to try and defend yourself.

“Well you were being super gross last time we met…” you trailed.

“Shit…I was?” he asked, looking genuinely confused.

You shook your head and grinned, leaning your own head back against the wall and looking back up to the sky. Of course he didn’t know he was being a weirdo. You thought for a second, figuring out the gentlest way to explain to him that saying, “if you’re looking for a man, I can pencil you in,” isn’t a turn on. Though you were interrupted before you could complete the thought.

“I’ll be honest I was kinda fucked by the time you guys got to the bar that night. If I was an asshole I’m sorry about that,” he said, offering you a small smile.

You blinked, surprised that he was apologising, but soon collected yourself. You gulped and offered him a shrug, feeling your tension around him ease.

“Thanks for apologising. I guess I’m just not used to being around guys like you,” you remarked.

“Guys like me?” he shot back, frowning deeply.

“Like, um…” you struggled for a second, “like I guess macho guys, I dunno-shit. I guess you’re just not like the guys in New York.”

He chuckled a deep gravelly laugh as he watched you struggle for words and clearly took great pleasure in watching you squirm. His smile remained on his face, and he side eyed you for a second, flicking his gaze over you like a jungle cat. Your breath hitched.

“Do you know what I think it is, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes at the pet name.

“What?”

“I don’t think you’re used to gettin’ flirted with,” he said confidently. 

You snorted. Oh, this was where he was going with this. Like you were some kind of waif that couldn’t get attention. You got attention, you just weren’t keen on men that were too forward. Men that swaggered around like they owned the place. Men that thought they could force and flatter their way through to your pants.

“Why wouldn’t I get flirted with? I remember you saying I was so hot I could charge a solar panel.”

You delighted in watching him wince at that, he adjusted his big thick jacket around his shoulders and raked his hand through his dark hair. The thick locks bounced back up like springs and it made you look down to Mags, looking at how rumpled her hair was after her little puke fest. If the swainos had one thing going for them it was their big thick hair.

“You know what, I officially give up,” Terrance declared. “I can see when my chances are screwed.”

“Wise choice,” you laughed, staring back up at him “Maybe you could try and be a little less corny with next girl, huh?”

“Shit, y’know most girls think it’s endearing,” he shrugged.

“Wow, that’s a big word, must really impress girls,” you snarked, smacking your hand over your mouth when you realised how dry you’d been. 

Terrance’s eyes comically widened and his mouth dropped open. He looked absolutely scandalised. 

“Woah. You’re brutal aren’t ya? Better warn Frank about that,” he remarked.

“Frank?”

“Yeah, I saw you checking him out. You were pretty fuckin’ obvious about it,” he laughed. “Was waiting on you makin’ a move.”

“Was not,” you snorted.

“Yeah you were, don’t fuckin lie you coward. What was it you liked about him, huh? What’s he got that I don’t?”

Your heart thudded in your chest and felt like it might come beating right out. Just as you thought you might overheat from the embarrassment of it all, you saw headlights approaching and realised it must be your taxi. You were saved by the wheels. You sighed and got to your feet, starting to try and tug the still unconscious Mags up with no help from Swaino. He was still giving you that signature molton brown stare. 

“Terrance,” you gritted out, arms burning from attempting to get Mags upright. “Little help?”

“Tell me why you got a crush on Frankie boy and I’ll carry her myself,” he declared, a shit eating grin spreading across his features.

Oh you could just smack that goatee right off of him. You groaned and when the car finally pulled up to the sidewalk, you realised there was only one way into it.

“He’s tall,” you shrugged.

“Really? That’s all it takes?” he laughed, getting to his feet.

“Tall men are hot- woah” you said, almost unbalancing as Mags’ brother took her from you and left you feeling feather light. 

Terrance watched you for a second, before he shook his head and gathered his sister into his arms, rather ungracefully hauling her over his shoulder. He may as well have been lugging a sack of potatoes. Meanwhile you’d found your balance, impressed that Terrance was still able to hold Mags up like that after all those drinks and you were struggling just to stay on your own feet. 

“You know I might be a little shorter than him, but it’s only cause those inches were put to use somewhere else,” he winked, stalking over to the car. 

Every muscle in your face wrinkled in disgust and you took a pause before following behind him. You weren’t entirely convinced you actually wanted to go in with him, but then again you were desperate to get home and sink into bed. Sophie's choice. You rolled your eyes for the thousandth time and did a little half jog to catch up with him, scowling as you got into the taxi.

“You’re fuckin gross,” you muttered.

—

“Mornin, sweetheart. Cute PJs, very nice.”

You jumped as you walked into the kitchen and did a double take as you saw Terrance sitting at the kitchen table with a smug look on his face and a mug of coffee. You gritted your teeth and locked eyes with him, he trailed his gaze over you, biting his lip through his grin. There was no escape from the man.

You stared down at your baggy shirt and pyjama shorts, suddenly wishing the shirt came down just an extra few inches. Looking back over at him, you noticed he wasn’t wearing his jacket for once, he was just in a black T-shirt and dark jeans, his golden chain glinting in the soft morning light. It was difficult not to notice his bulging arms now they were on full display, difficult not to think about how into him you’d be if he weren't…well him. 

“Is there coffee left or did you just make enough for yourself,” you finally said, washing the image of his arms around you out of your mind. 

“Coffee pot’s over there,” he said, motioning with his head. 

As soon as you knew where to get yourself some caffeine you scurried away, finding a stray mug in the dish rack and filling it as much as possible. The warm bitter smell of coffee washed through you and before even taking a sip, you could feel the warmth seeping into your system. It wrapped you in a hug and washed through your head, numbing the hangover and your thumping heart. 

Once you’d had a generous gulp, you took it over to the table and sat for a second, losing yourself in the heavily floral wallpaper. You traced along the vines and petals with your eyes and spaced out, feeling white noise creeping through your skull.

“Not a mornin’ person, huh?”

You blinked and stared back over at Terrance, fearing for a second that your head was going to fall off your shoulders you’d moved so quickly. He laughed as he studied you and reached over to the chair next to him, pulling a large white box out from under the table and offering it over to you. 

“What’s that?” you asked, eying the box suspiciously.

“Breakfast,” he grinned, opening the lid.

Inside there were a few donuts scattered haphazardly around. Clearly the box had been full at one point but the supply had been decimated. You assumed that must be why you were woken up by the kids screaming outside. They were high out their little minds with a sugar rush. 

You picked out a simple glazed one that was oozing a little jam, admiring the way the sugar glistened. It looked like a good fuckin’ donut. 

After taking a bite, you could confirm, that was a great fuckin’ donut. You moaned and took another bite and sipping at your coffee, accidentally catching Terraces eye after your outburst. He was smirking.

“What?” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“Didn’t say anything,” he said innocently, holding his hands up. “Glad you’re enjoying it is all.”

Yeah right. He was enjoying watching you a little too much for your tastes. You shook your head and continued to eat, staring off at the wallpaper again, hoping you could ignore anymore awkward conversation with Mags’ annoying brother and praying she’d be down soon. Though if track records were anything to go by that was doubtful.

Soon enough the comfortable silence was broken when giggles broke out from the hallway. You frowned and looked over at the door just as two little girls pounced through it, both sporting thick pigtails and big toothy grins. They skipped their way over to Terrance and pounced onto his lap, 

“Uncle Terry!” One of them exclaimed.

“We drew this for you!” said the other.

The little girl whipped out a crudely drawn crayon picture, brandishing it proudly right in front of his eyes. You giggled as you watched him adjust to having the paper smacked right in his face, taking it from them and putting it to an actual viewable level.

“Aw man, look at that. You made this just for me?” He said, his voice breaking out into a dramatically touched tone. “Isn’t that sweet. Is that me and my bike? You guys did such a good job, that’s like the perfect red you used!”

“Yeah, and- and- an, um…” one of the girls trailed, struggling to get her words out with excitement.

“It’s ok, take a breath darlin’. Take a second and figure out what you wanna say,” he instructed gently, stroking her back in encouragement. 

“Um, uncle terry I was just saying that um, we put a doggy in the picture cause uh, we know you like dogs,” she said proudly, pointing to a big grey blob that stood off in the corner of the colourful scribbles.

“Ah, yeah you did! That’s so sweet, it’s just like Frankie’s dog, huh? You guys did great. I’m gonna hang this one up on the fridge right next to your other one,” he declared, putting the drawing down and giving them a big bear hug.

You clutched your coffee cup tightly in your hand and let the warm ceramic distract you from the display in front of you. It’s not like you were racing to have kids, or even sure if you wanted them, but seeing him so sweet with his little nieces was certainly painting him in a different light. It knocked a chip out of the fuck boy caricature you’d constructed in your mind, because clearly he wasn’t all lewd comments and grossness. 

Terrance Swaino was actually a multifaceted human man, not just a big talking dildo. Who knew? 

The girls soon raced off, excitedly talking about the other masterpieces they were going to create together and left you and Terrance alone again. You watched as he examined the drawing further, before sliding it onto the table with a grin.

“Little picassos in the making my sisters say,” he laughed, taking a swig out of his coffee.

You took a closer look at the drawing and sniggered, looking at the homunculus in front of you and back at Terrance, comparing the two. They did a good job of thickly drawing his goatee and big hair on, though you couldn’t help but find his large sausage fingers and thumb like head hilarious. 

“Yeah, I think they really captured your essence.”

“Oh yeah,” he snorted, “It’s nice to see they noticed my big ears and huge clown feet.”

You giggled and sat back in your chair, taking a sip out of your coffee. 

“Figure you’d be happy with big feet. You know what they say about those,” you said, raising your brows.

“Big socks?” he answered, chestnut eyes glinting as he stared back at you. 

“Woah, surprised you shot down a chance to talk about your big dick,” you snorted.

“Sounds like you’re doing a good job of hypin’ it up yourself, sweetheart,” he winked. 

With that he stood up and dumped his coffee cup in the sink with a clatter. You scrambled, trying to undo what you’d just said but he didn’t give you the opportunity to take anything back. He raced off through the doorway and outside, roaring something to the kids that made them all scream. 

You sat there with a deep sigh and rubbed at your aching temples. You did not just tell Terrance Swaino that his dick was big, you thought, surely that didn’t just happen. Jesus help me. 

—-

Maggie had eventually awoken that day and man was the aftermath of her hangover a beast. She took two cups of coffee and three donuts until she could stop groaning. Then she piled herself into the shower and declared you both had to go out for brunch. 

She packed her book of course, and soon you found yourself on your third cup of coffee continuing to bully your way through wedding planning. She would pull out endless options from leaflets and directories, slamming books onto the metal table and making unimpressed noises at every single option until you would snap and give her the choice between the two options she’d made the least faces at.

It was a tedious system but it was getting you both somewhere. 

“You’re such a slave driver, you know that?” she laughed, penning her choice of make up artist into her book in a looping scrawl.

“Well after that night we had, you can’t not expect me to be a little crabby,” you shrugged. 

Mags bit her lip and stared off in another direction, knowing that once the drinking started it was her that was buying rounds like they were going out of fashion. Not that you could blame her, you knew how stressed she was about getting the wedding perfect and how hard she’d had it at work. She deserved to unwind a bit. Even if it did leave you both fucked that day.

“Yeah we really overdid it huh?” she muttered, shaking her head. “We cannot let that happen again. You know how annoying Ter’s gonna be cause he had to carry me home again? After I made such a big deal about how I wasn’t that person anymore since I moved!”

“Aw Mags, I’m sure he’ll be very understanding and sympathetic,” you smirked.

You both sat in silence for a second and burst out laughing at the same time. Terrance sympathetic? No he was gonna milk this for all it was worth.

“Fucking hell. I come back here and I’m drinking myself into the toilet in two seconds flat,” she groaned, leaning back in her chair. “This town has an effect on me.”

“To be fair I wasn’t far behind you,” you shrugged, attempting to make her feel better.

“Yeah right, you were on beer all night,” she snorted. “It was a good thing you weren’t that close behind me, if I had to have Ter in the bathroom with me agian, I think that really would have me dying of embarrassment.”

“Again?” you asked incredulously. “He doesn’t strike me as the type to be caught dead in a woman’s bathroom, isn’t he like…too ‘alpha’ for that or whatever?”

“Jesus no. If he ever caught me out drinking he’d always be floating around making sure I had zero chance with any guys and holding my hair back for me when I hit my limit,” she grimaced. “He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s always been a good big brother. You know he bought me my first tampons?”

“Holy shit, what?” you laughed.

“Yeah, dude! He’s great, he grew up with all us women around him, so he’s actually really sweet about all the girly shit. He puts on this whole big asshole front to other people, but he’s actually a real marshmallow on the inside,” she insisted. 

You wanted to open your mouth and immediately disprove her, but you took a second and realised you probably shouldn't trash her brother for one, and also he wasn’t all bad really. He had made sure you and Mags got home safe, and he did get breakfast for you and was really sweet on the kids. Maybe you’d been a touch too harsh with him. Just a touch though. 

“Anyway, enough about my idiot brother,” Mags said, fixing her gaze back onto her book. “Back to the Wedding!”

—

A few hours later you’d departed from the diner and left for Mags’ house once more. She’d done her best to prop her eyes open and continue to pour over wedding stuff for a while longer, but as the night drew in and shadows crept into the house she’d called time out. Mags went to bed early and sluggishly mounted the stairs while you crept out onto the porch and drank in the warm summer air. You’d been dying for some peace to yourself.

The street outside was still and a gentle breeze rolled through, scattering a couple stray leaves here and there. It was peaceful. Perfect. You closed your eyes and bathed in the silence for a minute, enjoying a reprieve from traffic and screaming kids until the sound of a loud engine startled you from your dozing state.

“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself. 

A cherry red bike sliced through the darkness with its bright headlights and barreled toward you, slowing as it approached the house. You squinted when it came to a halt and rubbed at your tired eyes, looking to see who was climbing off of it only to be greeted with the sight of Terrance clambering toward you.

“You’re up late sweetheart,” he called out.

“Hard not to be with that racket,” you grimaced, staring off toward his bike.

“Would you have rather I let you fall asleep out here?” he challenged, coming to a stop in front of you. 

Your lips formed a thin line and you shook your head, not able to dispute him. Maybe it was better he’d ridden by, you thought.

“What’re you doing riding around so late?” you asked, changing the subject.

He shrugged, walking toward the front door and edging off to the right of it. You watched him, wondering what on earth he was doing. Though, Terrance was unaffected by your staring and muttered something to himself, sounding as if he was counting as he traced his hands along the worn white bricks of the house. He came to a stop suddenly and pulled a loose brick out, fetching a small silver tin out of the hidden crevice.

He walked back toward you and settled down next to you with a thump, setting the tin by his side as he slid his jacket off and revealed the T-shirt and chain combo he’d had on that morning. Your throat went dry as you found yourself staring at his arms again, but he didn’t notice your gaze. He was too busy messing with whatever was in the tin now.

“You partake?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You tilted your head and wondered what the hell that meant until you looked at the tin properly and realised he was in the beginning stages of rolling a joint. You quirked an eyebrow and watched as he began to roll the paper between his fingers, poking his big tongue out from between his lips and licking the paper. 

“I uh- I used to,” you said finally. “Is that what you came by for?”

He shook his head and pulled a lighter out of his discarded jacket pocket. The lighter sparked up a warm yellow flame and licked through the brown paper, turning it to ash and sparking the joint. You watched the glow as it brightly shone off of his chain and admired the smoke as it crept toward the sky in a thick strand. 

“I got stuff at home,” Terrance finally clarified, taking a draw. “I just noticed you sitting out and figured I’d see if you wanted company. I always keep a stash here so when it comes to getting through parties, I got a little somethin’ to help. When you say you used to smoke, does that mean you won’t now?”

You considered him for a second, watching as he took another draw and relaxed back against the porch post. The skunky smell was filling your senses and suddenly flashbacks of lazy high school days were filling your mind. You found yourself shaking your head back at him and smiling.

“If you’re offering I’ll smoke a little,” you shrugged.

He took one last draw, tapping the end against the bannister and shaking the ash from it before handing it over to you. You accepted it, bringing it to your lips and taking a puff, drawing the smoke into you and inhaling slowly. You giggled as you huffed the smoke from your lungs and simpered off into the distance.

“Hitting you already, lightweight?” Terrance teased.

“Nah…I just haven't smoked weed since I finished my degree,” you smirked. “I feel like a school kid again. Sittin’ outside my friends parents house and talking quiet so we don’t get caught.”

He laughed at that and let you have another few draws before taking it back from you, closing his eyes sleepily as he took another. You settled your hands behind you and smiled sleepily to yourself as you felt your mind begin to buzz and your body relax into the porch. This was actually nice. His company wasn’t too shabby after all. 

You swivelled a little and faced him, admiring the way he smoked through your hazy eyes. He looked effortless, like he was in a photoshoot or something. It turned out when he was quiet he was genuinely quite attractive. His jawline caught the glint of the streetlights and his nose was silhouetted sharply in the night shadows. It made you wonder how many fights he’d been in, made you gaze across down at his hands and observe the hardened calluses.

“Your eyes are big as shit right now,” he smirked, watching you right back.

You poked your tongue out at him and he snorted before reaching out to ruffle your hair. You were about to squeal until you remembered the sleeping people in the house and settled for a fake glare instead.

“I thought there was a ‘no messing up the hair’ rule?” you groused.

“For me,” he clarified. “Besides, you were being cute. Couldn’t help it.”

Heat crept up onto your cheeks and you looked away from him for a second. This couldn’t be happening. You were not crushing on him, you absolutely were not. You tried to remind yourself of all the gross things he’d said, but all that was ringing in your head was your conversation that morning. He actually was kinda endearing?

How baffling. 

“You know, I’m not a woman expert. I’m a big enough man to admit that,” he said, speaking slowly as the high settled in, “but I do feel like I’m growin’ on ya.”

You stiffened and swivelled your head, narrowing your eyes. 

“Just because I’m not cursing you out doesn’t mean I fancy you,” you growled.

“I didn’t say ‘fancy’, mostly because I’m not a little school kid, but no one brought up anything like that. I just said I was growin’ on ya. And it looks like I’m absolutely right if that’s your take.”

You gritted your teeth and stared him down, willing yourself to see him as the asshole you’d always thought he was before. Though now, maybe with a little help from the weed and maybe with looking at him a little harder, you couldn’t quite see him the same. Sure he was a childish dick, but there was no denying that he was hot as shit and he had his nice moments. 

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you finally said, trying to dismiss him. 

He smirked at that and put out the last of the joint, making sure to stow the stub away into the bush. Once he was sure it was hidden, he faced you again and shuffled closer to you, his big body filling your personal space. You gulped.

“You telling me if I kissed you right now, you’d hate it?” he murmured, breath tickling your ear as he brought his face close to yours.

You shivered and breathed him in without meaning to. You caught the fresh smell of the weed mixing with his spicy cologne and you breathed out, trying to collect your thoughts. Oh god, you really wanted it. Though, surely he wasn’t gonna-

Without any more warning he brought his lips to yours and grabbed your chin in his hands, capturing you in a kiss. At first you were too surprised to do anything, but soon you found yourself kissing him back, even lashing your tongue out and trading smoky breaths between each other. You moaned as his tongue tangled with yours and all too soon he pulled away and presented you with his pearly white grin.

“Fuckin’ knew you were changing your mind on me,” he laughed.

“Shut up,” you groaned.

“I don’t think anyone would blame you for failin’ to resist the Swaino charm, sweetheart. I’m pretty irresistible.”

You shook your head and rubbed at your temples, trying to process the disbelief of what you’d just done. You’d kissed Mags’ brother. Her gross brother that you maintained you’d rather die than touch with a barge poll for so long. You’d just kissed him and worse, you wanted more. 

This had to be the weed. This had to be weapons grade quality weed you thought. No way you were doing this all of your own accord. You breathed out again and looked up at him again, but sure enough it wasn’t the weed. You knew your own mind too well to know that you wanted his chain to dangle in your face while he gave it to you hard, and no amount of sobriety would clear the thought.

Fuck it.

“Ugh, come here jackass.”

You got to your feet and yanked him and his jacket up, pulling him into the porch and through the front door. He raised his eyebrows at you, but stayed quiet, allowing you to tug him up the stairs and through the hall, bringing him into the spare room. Luckily you guys were on the end, away from everyone else who you hoped would be deep deep asleep. 

You let go of Swaino, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot next to you, leaning back into the covers. He sucked in a breath and you watched as he scratched a hand through his beard and stared back at you. His eyes were filled with lust. Though there was a shimmer of amusement ringing through them.

“You asking me to sit there for a reason, sweetheart?” he asked, playing dumb.

“Obviously,” you groaned, already growing impatient. 

“Huh, and I thought you hated me,” he grinned, settling down beside you.

You rolled your eyes and moved to kiss him, but he leaned back and shifted where he sat. God, why was he being difficult now? You groaned as he drank in your frustration.

“If you want me to do anything to you…I want you to ask for it,” he smiled.

You huffed out a frustrated breath. Part of you wanted to call the whole thing off, but a larger part of you acknowledged it had been a few months since you’d gotten laid. If you let that chance go then, you would’ve probably gone a few months more as well.

“Fuck me,” you moaned, trying to be sexy but coming across more demanding.

Terrance tisked and smiled wider, shaking his head. That definitely wasn’t going to be enough. He was going to be a dick about it.

“Ask me nicely, sweetheart.”

You sighed and closed your eyes for a second, gathering your courage before you slid down off the bed. You crawled the short space between you both and shuffled in between Swaino’s legs, placing your hands on the expanse of his thighs. He took a sharp breath and looked down at you, pupils somehow dilating more.

“Pretty please, Ter,” you purred, rubbing his steadily growing bulge. “Please fuck me.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathed, pulling you up smothering you in another kiss.

You moaned out lowly into his mouth and fumbled around with your hands, shucking off your clothes haphazardly. All too soon you were stripped down to your underwear and Swaino was in his boxers after wrestling his shirt off. Goddam, what a sight he was. You raked your eyes over his pecs and down to his abs, glancing back up to his molten eyes.

Swaino was staring at you like he was going to eat you. And man, you wanted that bad. You crept up onto the bed with him and bit your lip, ready to go further. Ready for him to take you. 

“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous,” he groaned, raking his eyes over your body and grabbing your hips. “Such a pretty fuckin’ girl.”

He groped at your body, his hard hands palming at your flesh and caressing your ass, leaving behind hot tingling sensations wherever he touched. Your chest was rising high with your short breaths and you groaned out. You were on fire.

“Swaino please,” you sighed. “Need you.”

His hooded eyes were gazing at you intently, burning as you talked dirty to him. He liked that, you noted. He liked that a lot.

“You gonna get me warmed up for you?” you asked breathily.

“Oh, I’m gonna get you so wet, sweetheart. Gonna get you soaked,” he growled. “Just gotta do one thing for me, baby. Just gotta stay quiet for me, no matter how much you wanna scream my name.”

A part of you wanted to roll your eyes, but you were too deep in it now. You bit your lip and nodded instead, gasping as he expertly unclipped your bra and slid your panties down your legs. You were completely bare to him.

The man was a smooth operator, you had to give him that. He got to work immediately, kissing and sucking on your neck, trailing wet kisses down your body. Moans escaped from you like a symphony, you found yourself jamming your hand up to your mouth biting at your knuckle. Fuck. 

He licked and sucked at your nipples, biting a little and taking every little sound you made into consideration as he went on. He was clearly paying attention to what you liked because the more you breathed out, the more he continued to do those things that had your legs shaking.

“So pretty…look at these tits. You’re fuckin’ hot,” he growled, grabbing at your boobs and continuing on his way down.

His tongue trailed across your stomach, tickling your flesh. You could feel your pussy clench as he grew closer, could feel yourself getting wetter with every passing second. This was almost too much. This was the most attention you’d ever received from a man. And it was Terrance!

The thought quickly left you as he finally worked his way down. Finally! You couldn't silence the small cry that rang out into the room. Swaino paused just as his fingers began swirling on your clit and raised his head, drawing himself up above you with his free arm. 

“You moan so pretty for me, baby,” he sighed. “But I already told you. You gotta stay quiet.”

His look hardened as he stared down at you and you looked up with glazed eyes, nodding enthusiastically. Anything. Anything, as long as he’d just keep going.

He soon resumed his motions, gathering up your wetness and drawing circles across your clit. You silenced yourself with your knuckles and tried as hard as you could so that you wouldn't make a noise. Your skin burned and your thighs shook with every motion, your body was on fire.

The coil in your body was tightening fast now, your stomach was taut and the hand that wasn’t currently silencing your cries found its way into Swaino’s hair. His hair was soft underneath your fingers, you scratched your nails through it and gently applied pressure, forcing him toward your pussy and moaning as he licked a stripe through your folds.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he muttered.

His expert tongue worked at you and focused on your bud, his fingers drawing away before sinking into you. Mother of god. The man knew exactly what he was doing. He curled his fingers expertly and you groaned quietly, taking in all of the pleasure. Your heart was racing. Your legs were shaking and you were writhing, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

And then it came. Your orgasm tore through your body. You gave up on your knuckle and pulled your wrist to your mouth, keeping yourself as quiet as you could. Your whole body ran wild with tingles and white noise rang through your ears.

You sighed out finally and brought yourself back into the room. Swaino was fumbling for something in his jeans. After a second of searching, he pulled out a condom and grinned falling back onto the bed next to you.

“You carry that with you everywhere?” you giggled.

“I always keep one on me, never hurts to be ready” he shrugged. “You still want me to fuck you?”

Who said romance was dead?

“Duh,” you snarked.

“You gonna be mean to me after I just rocked your shit like that?” he laughed dryly.

You gulped and realised you still could still hardly feel your legs.

“Ok,I’ll be nice,” you smiled sweetly. “I want you to please fuck me with that big cock of yours.”

That was encouraging enough. He slid his boxers down his thighs and revealed a massive dick. Normally your eyes wouldn’t bulge when a prospective partner’s cock was revealed but damn. Damn, that was a nice cock.

“It’s so big,” you murmured, losing yourself for a second.

“Ain’t it just?” he smirked. “Clearly I got that big dick energy people talk about.”

Oh yeah. His was an ego that didn’t need stoked.

He didn’t waste anymore time teasing you though. He tore the condom wrapper roughly and slipped the rubber over his dick, groaning deep in his throat at the contact. A breath caught in your throat as you watched him and you only released it as he rutted into you. Even having been warmed up, he stretched you and had you cursing out in low whispers. 

He wrapped his thick arm around your head and swallowed you with the pressure. You were coming down from one high and crashing into another. His eyes were boring into you, his impassioned gaze lighting a new fire inside you. 

“So tight,” he said through gritted teeth, “You feel so fuckin good.”

“Mmm, your dick feels so big, fuck!”

“Yeah, tell me.Tell me what you want, pretty. You want me to go harder?” he asked, thrusting deep into you.

Fuck! You couldn’t help your moan, though you realised, was there any point? The mattress was jumping and Swaino’s groans were tearing through the quiet. If the house wasn’t woken already, you guys were going to be fine. 

You stretched out your body, and writhed underneath him as he continued to pound into you, making slow deep thrusts. It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough. Your second orgasm was creeping up, but you wouldn’t be pushed over the edge like this.

“Faster,” you moaned. “Please Swaino, faster.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he grinned.

His pace ramped up and soon he was thrusting into you with reckless abandon. The room filled with the noise of flesh and moans, both working in tandem. Your breath was taken from you once more as you came again, clenching hard down on his cock and drawing out a groan. 

He came a little after you did, burying his face into the pillow and collapsing on top of you. His full weight crushed you into the mattress. Luckily, he rolled himself over after a few seconds, and you were both lying there staring up at the flaky ceiling. Soon your pants were the only sound that broke through the room. 

“Fuck,” Swaino sighed out.

“Right?” you grinned, still feeling your head race with static.

Your heart was thudding and you were flush with warmth. The room smelt like sex and weed and Swaino’s cologne, maybe it was cheap but it was a little sexy too. You sighed and lay back against his chest after a few moments, grinning as you listened to his heartbeat, listened to the loud uncontrolled thump that mirrored yours. 

“Fuck,” he repeated, gritting his teeth. “Can’t believe you got me to fuck in my famiy’s house. Haven’t sneaked around like this in fuckin’ years.”

You smiled smugly to yourself and drew the covers over you, twisting to meet his eyes and cover him as well. He looked over at you incredulous and moon eyed, looking thoroughly tired and fucked out. 

“Worth it though, right?” you murmured, bringing your hand up to stroke his jaw.

Swaino grinned and grabbed your hand, kissing it and lacing his fingers through yours.

“So fuckin’ worth it,” he confirmed. “You’re way hotter than those girls I used to bring back when I was in school.”

You wrinkled your nose and hit his chest lightly. You’d forgotten who you’d invited to bed and now you were getting a stark reminder as to what you’d actually done.

“What? It’s a complement!” he said, biting back a laugh.

“Jesus christ,” you groaned. “Shut up before I kick you out, Swaino.”

He smirked at that and nodded, drawing you back against his chest and back into the warmth. You could only lie there and pray you wouldn’t regret what you’d done in the morning.

“Just let me know if you wanna go again by the way, I think this condom’ll last another time,” he whispered.

Fucking hell. You were regretting it already.

#terrance swaino #terrance swaino x reader #small engine repair #jon bernthal #small engine repair fanfic

[mrsswaino]

guys my age.

terrance swaino x f!reader .

summary : swainos secret to youth is you.

fun fact i actually don't have a thing for age gaps like at all. but its kinda funny cause swaino is basically a fucking child himself. but there's not enough swaino content so here i am. also listen to guys my age by hey violet, it's what made me think about writing this in the first place.

warnings : 18+ content drug nd alcohol mentions/consumption, implied age gap, oral (f receiving).

honestly, you don't even know why you're at a bar. you rarely ever drink, but maria does so here you are. high out of your mind, sitting at a booth alone. maria had left to use the restroom about 5 minutes ago, the duration of time she's taking youre sure she found company either before or after walking to the bathroom. ‘typical maria’ you think, she’d always had extremely low standards when drunk, and thats essentially every time shes about to fuck.

sipping your first, and hopefully only drink of the night you see a group of guys walk into the bar. you'd seen most of the group together before the few times you came, and one you'd seen several times before. but not with these guys. terrance swaino.

you’d first run into him when you were both alone. you'd had a bad week, and caved and went to a bar alone. and while sitting on that bar stool you felt eyes throwing daggers into your back. looking back, you'd seen him. sipping his beer he just waved, like he didnt care you caught him staring.

after awhile, he finally sat on the bar stool next to you. he was actually pretty funny, a bit too obsessed with his ducati - but nonetheless fun time this guy. you found yourself enjoying looking at him a bit too much, as well as his obvious flirting.

eventually it led to an invite of riding his ducati to his place. finding purchase on his waist the ride was quite quick, and enjoyable . the wind, the street lights, the buzz, and hell some random old guy made you feel pretty alive. but once you get back to his place neither of you really waste any time.

seconds after he closes and locks his apartment door, you both just look at each other for a moment, before you're pulling his shirt to bring him closer. when his lips land on yours it's very quickly a clashing of teeth, and a fight for dominance. but with both of your determination no one really wins.

until he's hooking his hands under your thighs to pick you up and carry you to his bedroom. you feel him smirk into the kiss at your surprise. you give a tug to his hair, and he lets out a low groan. but a few moments after you feel yourself being dropped onto a plush bed. surprisingly, with a matching comforter set.

and as soon as you’ve had a moment to catch your breath, he's back on you. separating your legs with one knee between them, one hand on your cheek, the other feeling you up anywhere it can locate. feeling around his torso for the hem of his shirt he separates his lips from yours for a fraction of a second to do it himself instead. and just as you're about to reach for your own he does it instead. but unlike before he doesnt dive right back into kissing you, he pauses for a moment before whispering a low ‘fuck’.

now his lips are laying claim on your neck. and you cant help yourself from tugging his hair every now and then. eventually he's taking your bra off, and kissing every inch of your chest and torso. leaving nowhere untouched. getting tired of these teasing games, you reach to start pulling your jeans off, but he quickly takes both your hands into one of his, with a slight shake of his head.

“you just sit there and enjoy, alright princess?” he says, and you can hear the cockiness in his tone.

before you can even think about getting a word out, his lips are back on yours. with one hand still holding your two above your head, while the other starts to gently undo your jean button, and zipper. letting go of your hands, he starts once again peppering kisses down your torso, and pulling your jeans down. and you can tell he's enjoying this because you feel his smirk while he does. once your jeans are off, he just stops and smirks for a moment.

‘does he ever stop smirking’ you think, and just as soon as you're starting to roll your eyes you feel a bold stripe being licked through your folds, shuddering you claim purchase on his hair again.

and then he starts diving in like a starved man - and this is when you thought you might only fuck older men from now on because holy fuc-

then youre finally being snapped from your thoughts with an obviously faked cough across from you. swaino.

“hey princess.”

#jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal smut #terrance swaino #terrance swaino x reader #terrance swaino smut

[anna-hawk]

🏍️ HAIR VS HELMET 🏍️

Relationship: Terrance Swaino x Fem!Reader Fandom: Small Engine Repair Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 1217 Summary: Swaino is too vain to wear a helmet, and you hate it. Prompt: Date

This is for@darlingshane because she loves Swaino, and she gave me the idea for this.

You’re sitting at a table in the local café, sipping at your cup of Pumpkin spice latte, when there’s the roar of an engine turning the corner and a red Ducati drives by. Although everyone knows who the bike belongs to because of the design, it’s just as easy to recognize Swaino on it since he’s not wearing a helmet. As always. You grit your teeth as you watch him zoom by, sunglasses on his nose, hair windswept and grin in place. He’s driving too fast for you to actually see the grin, but you know him well enough to be certain that that’s precisely the expression he’s got on his smug face.

You heave a long sigh as you drain your cup and close the laptop you’d been working on.

Swaino and you have been together – sort of – for a few months. He’s the kind of guy you wouldn’t normally go for, as loud and obnoxious as he can sometimes be. He can grate on your nerves like no one can, resulting in intense shouting matches between you.

The first time he’d flirted with you, you’d been ready to blow him off instantly; his swagger and smirk annoying you.

And yet, you hadn’t.

Because despite all his brashness and his swearing, if you look behind the macho exterior, you can catch a peek of who the man is on the inside. Someone who’s kind and honest, who cares deeply about his friends and his family. Someone you can trust with anything and who would do everything for you.

The main reason you don’t consider yourself fully in a relationship with him, is because you keep fighting about one particular thing. All the time. And it’s kind of a deal-breaker for you.

As much as you like Swaino, you hate how vain he can be, and particularly about his hair. You can easily admit that he has gorgeous hair, hair that you love to comb through or tug at. It has the perfect length just for that. But his hair is also the reason he won’t put on a helmet.

You’re walking home from the café, laptop bag slung over your shoulder, and as you had expected, you find Swaino, still straddling his bike, waiting for you in front of your place.

“Hey, Sweetcheeks,” he greets with his infamous grin, hair all over the place, and you hate that you still think that he looks good that way.

You still know that you have to put your foot down for good this time because you had just witnessed him driving far too fast for him to not protect his pretty head.

“I see you still haven’t gotten a helmet,” you reply, deciding to not beat around the bush.

Swaino’s head tips back with a loud groan as he pinches the bridge of his nose underneath his sunglasses.

“Fuck. You really gonna attack with this right off the bat?”

“I just saw you literally flying by the café a minute ago, Terrance. So yeah, I’m starting right off the bat with this.”

Swaino grimaces at the way you say his first name. You call him by his last name more often than not, and he knows that you using this tone with his first name signifies that you mean business.

“Ah, come on.” He removes his shades and puts them away. “You seriously want me to cover this masterpiece of-”

“Yes, I do. And just so we’re clear? You’ll be spending New Year’s Eve with your sisters and not with me like planned if you don’t put on a goddamn helmet. And those?” You point to your breasts. “Are off the table as is the rest. Capisce?”

You’re ready to use his own way of speaking on him if it means that he’ll understand that you're being serious.

Swaino dismounts from his bike and walks to where you’re standing in front of the stairs leading to your front door.

“Are you threatening me?” He looks more shocked that you put it that way than about the threatening part.

“If it gets you to wear a helmet and, God forbid, protect your head, then yes, I am.” You cross your arms and level him with a flat look.

“You’re bluffing,” he says with narrowed eyes, looking you up and down to find confirmation that he’s right. “You love it too much. Love the way my cock feels inside your p-”

“Try me,” you cut him off and push him away from you with a hand on his chest when he tries to walk closer into your space, your eyes hard.

Swaino stumbles back a few steps, eyebrows lifted in surprise as he finally understands that you actually mean it. He stares at you for a long moment, biting over his lower lip while he obviously thinks.

“Fine,” he grumbles at length. “If only to show you that I really wanna spend New year’s with you.”

You chuckle as you let your arms unfold, appeased by him agreeing.

“Please, you just don’t want to have to deal with Patty’s breakup story again.”

The way Swaino groans and covers his eyes lets you understand that he’d completely forgotten about that detail, and makes you laugh even more.

“I’m definitely wearing a fucking helmet now.”

“It’s a date, then.” You step closer to him and peck him on the lips.

“What? I still can’t come up?” He asks, disappointed.

“Nope. Not ‘til I have proof that you held your word.” You walk backwards before turning to climb the stairs. “See you in three days,” you call once you’ve opened the door and look back at him, still standing where you left him and looking resigned.

Three days later, you hear Swaino’s bike from two streets down, and look out your window to watch him drive up to your place. As promised, his head is covered by a bright red helmet. Pleased, you grin and walk to the front door, ready to open it as soon as he knocks; which he does a few seconds later.

The sound that comes out of you at the sight of him after he has removed the head protection can only be described as a loud screech of laughter. He’s looking at you, unimpressed, and watches as you hold yourself up against the door jamb, cold wind drifting into your apartment all the while.

“You done?” He grumbles and finally walks past you when you don’t answer and keep laughing.

You only manage to close the door and lean against it as tears run down the side of your face from the force of your laughter.

“You look like a freaking Playmobil,” you get out before giggling again.

Swaino walks towards the first mirror he finds and swears colorfully while he frantically tugs and combs through his hair.

“I’m never wearing a helmet again.”

You can’t help snorting, but this time, you won’t fight him on it. You even walk up to him and start helping to get his hair into a semblance of what it usually looks like.

“You know… I think I should be the only one allowed to mess it up,” you say with a small smile, Swaino letting himself be pulled into a kiss by said hair with a fervent sound of agreement.

#BernthirstExtravaganza #terrance swaino #terrance swaino x reader #swaino #small engine repair #christmas fic #jon bernthal #funny #mes fics #swaino x reader

[sirenreading]

welcome to my Jon Bernthal masterlist, everything i wrote(fics, series, hc’s) for his character’s will be logged here unless said otherwise, my fics are 18+ if you are a minor leave now.

x f!oc/f!reader | no use of y/n | 18+

other master list can be found here

——-

Frank Castle

For The Night

Late Nights

Fire Place

#Terrance swaino x f!reader #frank castle x f!reader #Frank Castle x reader #jon bernthal fanfiction #frank castle smut #my writing

[lucy-sky]

First of all, my dear Lucy. A huge congrats on your big milestone. It's so well deserved ❤️🥳

I would absolutely love a drabble with Swaino. A first kiss in the snow? 😍❤️

Instant Karma (Terrance Swaino x Reader)

915 words; no warnings, just fluff, a slight neighbors to lovers kind of thing; gif by me

AO3 link

A/N: as I said, Swaino is your neighbor in this one. Let's imagine you've already been flirting with each other for a while, and the kiss is just a natural result :)

REQUESTS CLOSED!

You woke up in a really good mood today. It’s been snowing all night, and now everything looks so beautiful, white and sparkling in the bright morning sunshine.

You adore snowy days. They give you a feeling of this absolutely childish joy, as if you’re like 10 years old again and can go outside to play snowballs instead of going to school. Smiling to yourself, you put on your jeans, a warm sweater, a jacket and a pair of uggs, and happily step outside. Standing on your porch, you inhale deeply. The air is fresh and chilly, but the sun is still warm against your face. What a lovely morning!

Suddenly your blissful thoughts are interrupted by someone cursing loudly in the distance. You turn your head to see your neighbor in not the best of moods. Shovel in his hands, he grunts, trying to clear the path to his garage from all the snow.

“Hey there, Swaino!” you greet as you approach him. “What’s going on? You don’t like the snow?”

“Shit, I fuckin’ hate it,” he grumbles. “How am I supposed to get my Ducati out? There’s a goddamn mountain of snow!”

“Don’t be so grumpy, T. Look how beautiful it is!” you grin at him before leaning down to grab some snow in your hands and quickly making a snowball.

“Yeah right… Beautiful, my ass… HEY! What the hell do you think you’re doing??” he exclaims when your snowball hits his shoulder.

“Ah, come on! Don’t you love a good old snowball fight?” you smirk, already making another snowball.

“Ouch!” This time he almost manages to duck away. “Alright, game’s over, sweetheart,” he throws the shovel away decidedly and grabs a huge pile of snow with both hands.

“You won’t dare,” you say teasingly.

“Oh I absolutely fucking will!!”

He already swings his arm to throw the snow in your direction, but suddenly trips and falls down on his back in the pile of snow with a muffled “Ffffuuuck!”

It’s absolutely hilarious, as if he’s a cartoon character or one of those guys from instagram reels Packie shows you sometimes, so you can’t help but burst out laughing at the sight.

“Oh my god, Swaino… Looks like an instant karma really does exist,” you giggle. When there’s no answer, you feel a bit bad for him. What if he really hurt himself?

“Are you okay?”

Silence. Frowning, you come closer, looking down at him with concern.

“Hey, Swaino, are you-”

“Gotcha!”

His hand suddenly wraps around your ankle and jerks swiftly. You yelp as you lose your balance and collapse on top of him.

“What the hell was that??”

“You wanted a fight, there ya go,” Swaino grins from ear to ear.

“Oh, very smart of you. You know, I could have accidentally smashed your balls falling on you like that,” you scoff as you attempt to get up.

“Nuh-uh, not so fast, darlin’!” seizing your waist, he makes another quick move, rolling you down on your back and hovering on top of you.

“Swaino, what the fuck? Let go of me!” you protest, trying to push him away with no success - he simply catches your wrists, pinning them down above your head.

“Guess I won the fight, huh?” he raises his eyebrows, eyes smiling. “Instant karma, am I right?”

You want to be angry with him, but this mischievous look on his face is disarming. And also the position you’re in - pinned beneath the man, his knee between your thighs… It makes the heat wash over your body despite the frosty air and the snow that got underneath your collar.

“Alright, you won. What now?” you shift your hips a little, trying to wiggle away, but only making your crotch rub against his leg.

“I dunno,” he rasps, leaning closer. “Do you?”

His breath is warm against your skin, and you hate to admit what these big dark brown eyes are doing to you. It’s hard to tell who makes the first move, maybe you both do, but the next moment Swaino’s lips are on yours. It’s not a rough, possessive or a needy kiss as you imagined making out with this man could be like. His lips are soft and suddenly gentle as they move from your upper to lower lip, and it’s like he even hesitates for a split second before letting his tongue dive all the way in to meet yours halfway, licking into your mouth with a pleased hum. The tickle of his beard feels just as good… No, even better than you imagined, and if your wrists weren’t still pinned to the ground, your fingers would already be in his hair, tangling and tugging, and making a mess of him.

“That was nice, yeah?” your noses bump for a moment as he finally pulls back, his voice slightly hoarse, cheeks flushed, content smile on his lips.

“Yeah,” you agree, wincing at the unpleasant sensation of snow melting against the back of your neck and the small of your back where your rather short jacket hiked up. “Would you please let me go now? I’m all wet… From the snow I mean,” you clarify, seeing his amused expression.

“From the snow, really?” he teases, finally releasing you from his grip.

“You’re such a dumbass,” you huff, taking his hand and letting him help you get on your feet.

“Yeah, maybe… something tells me you kinda like it though,” he winks as you give him a playful punch.

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it :)

Tags: @darlingshane @anna-hawk

1500 Milestone Celebration Drabbles Masterlist  

#terrance swaino #terrance swaino x reader #small engine repair #jon bernthal fanfiction #requests #drabble #follower milestone #lucy tries to write

[darlingshane]

> DRABBLES & ONE-SHOTS – Something Gold – The Day After Christmas – Love On The Rocks – The Swainos – Crystal – Last Call ** – End With A Bang **

> FICS – Banana Split ** – When you call me darling **

** = Explicit – No use of y/n. No physical descriptions. – F!Reader unless stated otherwise. – Check out my main masterlist for other characters.

#swaino x reader #swaino #terrance swaino #small engine repair #swaino fanfiction #swaino masterlist #character masterlist

[darlingshane]

Banana Split

Terrance Swaino x F!Reader  

Rating:  18+  Content & Warnings: Smut, Crack, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Sex, Eating, Food, Diners, Dessert & Sweets, Communication, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Ridiculous Conversations.

Word Count: 4,279  Summary:  Reader teaches Swaino how to eat pussy.

Read below or at AO3.

This is the last thing you would’ve expected when he called you last minute to have dinner on a Friday.

Swaino is a fun guy, normally. For whatever reason, this evening, his taciturn mood is nothing but a downer.

The usual chatterbox in front of you has turned into a sulking shadow on the window glass of the diner, with a set of sad puppy eyes reflected on the unflattering, funhouse-like metal of the retro napkin dispenser. It takes you aback that he's barely touching the food in his plate either, other than just poking around with his fork, bringing little bites from his steak to chew for longer than they should.

If you had to guess, you'd bet he's troubled about his current infatuation with this girl he met a few weeks ago. Swaino doesn't have many depth levels, that he's shown you at least, and it's either that or him clashing with his childhood friends like he does every other week. If it was the latter you'd know all the details already. So your spidey sense is ticking towards the former option.

You're down to your stack of french fries, that you always leave till the end, when you split up one  with your teeth, keeping half in your mouth and tossing the other half at his face, hitting his nose, to get him out of that funk.

“The hell was that for?”

“You're bumming me out, Swaino. This is why you wanted to meet? Just so I could see you sulk?” You still reach out to his plate to pick up that half french fry.

“Dunno, I needed to get out of the house.”

“Well, you got me here, the least you can do is tell me what's going on inside that thick skull of yours."

His fork clinks on the plate as he places it down, leaning back on his side of the booth.

“I just don't understand women anymore…” your friend sighs dramatically as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Great opening,” you try not to laugh, “please, tell me more.”

“I've been hooking up with this girl, the one I told you about?”

“Right, Tammy.”

“Yeah, so we’ve been out a couple times and everytime… when we get down to business, she just doesn't…” he frowns at you as if you were supposed to understand what he’s trying to convey. Then, drags a palm along his face, brushing his goatee nervously a couple times. “Hell, this fucking embarrassing.”

“You're embarrassed? This oughta be good… You once shaved your junk in my bathroom with my razor, that I had to burn after. What can possibly be more embarrassing than that?”

“Hey, that was an emergency, and I bought you a new one. Didn’t I?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, for my birthday. That doesn’t count,” you shake your head, pointing one of your last fries in his direction, “but get to the point, what happens when you get down to business?”

“She just… y'know? she doesn't seem to be really into it.”

“You mean she doesn’t come?”

“I mean if she does, she doesn’t sound like it.”

“Swaino… not every girl whimpers like a pornstar everytime they come, you gotta stop watching that shit.”

“Well,” his head tilts to the side, licking his lips smugly, “you’d be surprised of what I can do.”

“Ugh, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Just sayin’,” he shrugs, “so, got any pointers?”

This isn’t an unusual conversation for you two, but him asking for pointers is a first.

“Is this what got you down? Wow, you must really like this girl. Are you sure she wanted have sex with you?”

“Course she did, you think I’d take advantage of someone?”

“I was just asking…” you prop your elbows on the table, lacing your fingers together under your chin, while you gather your thoughts, “did you take your time with foreplay or just went straight to sex?”

“I uh… I did. I went down on her for almost ten minutes and all she did was giggle.”

“Hm, maybe it was your beard tickling her. Some women don’t like that.”

“Never had any complaints before,” he lifts his beer up to his lips.

“Also, pro tip here, and I'm saying this out if the goodness of my heart– maybe you should start fucking women of your own age. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have this problem if you did.”

“That so? You mean like you?”

“What? I wasn't talking about me,” you drop your jaw, “and I'm not even that close to your age, but that's besides the point.”

“Don't be so shocked, it's not the worst idea.”

“You and me? I can't see how that would work… but let's go back— do you even know how to eat pussy?”

“Oh, I have a PhD on eating pussy.”

“Okay, doctor, tell me how you do it.”

“Pff, I’m not gonna tell you that,” he glances at you amused, spreading an arm over the length of the backrest of his seat.

"Come on, what are you worried about if you're such an experienced expert?"

You grin, seeing him scoff again at your question as your waitress comes around to take away the empty plates before bringing your dessert order.

"You just wanna laugh at me, do you?"

"I swear I only want to help you."

"Okay," he clears his throat, “there’s not much to it, I just shove my mouth in there… and just go to town, you know what I mean?”

“That’s it?”

You see the waitress coming back, bringing your last course: a piece of apple pie for him and a banana split for you and wait till she's gone to continue.

“It’s not rocket science,” he starts digging into his pie.

“You’re so wrong my friend. So, so wrong,” you shake your head, picking up your spoon, scanning your dessert, beautifully composed by a banana cut in halves, separated by three scoops of ice-cream, adorned with chocolate syrup and three maraschino cherries topping each of the scoops.

“How would you do it then?”

“Firstly, just shoving your mouth in there is not the only thing you can do… you gotta start slow, massage a little all the way around, not just her pussy. You can start kissing her thighs before diving into it.”

“You guys like that?“

“Uhh, yeah,“ you look down at your dish and decide to do a demonstration with your dessert.

“Here,” You push your plate to the middle of the table and remove the maraschino cherry in the middle, leaving one in its original place to represent the clit, and placing the third one between the scoops of ice-cream to act as a g-spot. Using your spoon as a pointer to show and tell shamelessly how to properly do it.

“See, these are the outer lips,” you draw both halves of the banana, glancing at him, “this is where you move next. You can use your palm, or continue trailing soft kisses from her thigh, or use your tongue… there's lots of options. And this is extremely arousing, so don’t skip that part.”

“Got it, got it,” he nods.

“Then, split them open and move to the inner lips, keep brushing gently,” scoops being the inner lips in this case, “don’t skim on the kisses. There's a lot of nerves in the clit, jumping right into it can only make someone flinch before you're all warmed up and stuff, at least I would.”

“Is this supposed to be the clit?” He points at the only cherry you left on top.

“Obviously.”

“Okay, what’s next after all the kissing smartass?”

“You taking notes?”

“I feel wiser already.”

You both laugh softly as you continue, “then you bring out your tongue to the mix, and take your time savoring every inch, see what she likes and what she doesn't. Try tracing her opening, suck her folds, circle around her clit, tease her taint or ass if she’s into that. Also, ask first, don’t do something like that to someone you've just met."

“Got it.”

“Let’s see what else… Oh, some girls like the alphabet thing,” you suggest.

“What’s the alphabet thing?”

“You don’t know about the alphabet? I thought you said you had a PhD.”

“Okay, I might’ve overstated that.”

“Like every other guy,” you quip, tilting your head to the side, “so for the alphabet you use the tip of your tongue to draw your abc's around her clit. Or just any word.”

“What about slut? Would that work?”

“Hmm, that’s too short, I’d go with… douchebag or asshole. Make it even better and have her guess what you spell,” you take a spoonful of chocolate ice-cream and bring it to your mouth.

“You’re having way too much fun with this… have you ever eaten pussy before?”

“I plead the fifth,” you smack your lips together.

“So you have.”

You shrug and resume your lesson.

“When she’s all wet and ready you can push a finger or two inside. See this cherry here?” you point at the one you half buried between scoops, “that’s the g-spot. Make sure you stimulate that too. It’s on the roof, and not as deep as some of you guys think, so mind that. You gotta curl your fingers and tap, tap, tap that cherry,” you use your free hand to show your pointer and middle fingers joined, waving at him, “don’t go too hard but not too soft either.”

“You’re really high-maintenance, you know that? None of the girls I’ve slept with have never asked for any of that shit.”

“Cause most of them are just as dumb as you and don’t know what they like or how their bodies work. I’m telling you that if you manage to stimulate that at the same time you wrap your lips around her clit, and suck the lights out of her… you’ll blow her mind.”

“Wait, wait… you’ve gone too fast through that last part, tell me again what do you do with the clit?”

“You wrap your lips around it,” the tip of your spoon circles around the cherry as he listens keenly to your words, almost dumbfounded at your knowledge, “enclose it like a vacuum, and you suck and lick, and and you move your fingers in and out, in and out. If she starts moaning and grinding against your face it’s because you’re doing it right, so then you can go harder. If she flinches or pushes your head back, take it down a notch or try something else. Also, don’t be shy and groan around her too, that’s such a turn on.”

“That so?”

“It works for me,” you take another spoon of ice-cream.

“I’m not sure I got the clit part right, can you show me?” he grins like an asshole.

“I just did.”

He runs his teeth on his lower lip before picking up the acting-clit cherry from your plate, ripping the stem, and holding it up to your mouth.

“I’m a visual guy, I need to see it to get it. Please?”

You're probably going to regret this later, but you open your mouth and take the bait, picking the cherry between your lips, grazing the tips of his fingers as you do.

You hold it in your pursed lips and in front of your teeth, under his nothing but sexed-up glance. You suction around the small, bright cherry shamelessly, and hum before sucking it into your mouth.

Though your relationship with him has always been purely platonic, in this second, when you lock eyes with him you notice that something has shifted after that little stunt.

“See? Just like that but without using your fucking teeth, you got it?” you utter right after eating the topping.

“Yeah, it seems complicated but I gotta try that sometime.”

“It's not that complicated, you just have to practice,” you take the other cherry by the stem and dangle it in front of his mouth in return.

He takes it, yanking it free from your hold, almost choking a second after at your new suggestion.

“You can practice on me if you want,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Clearing his throat, his fist covers his mouth as his  eyes widen, utterly speechless by the look of it.

“Or not,” you quickly shake your head, straightening up tensely in your seat, deflecting, “don't look at me like that. It was a joke.”

“Was it? I thought you said you and me wouldn't work,” he vaguely gestures with his hands before clasping them together.

"I guess it wasn't a joke,” you glance at the window for a beat, “and this wouldn’t change anything between you and me. I don’t expect you to call me the next day or anything. Just one night, two friends having fun, that’s it.”

“Your place or mine?” he asks, the shadow of his stare casting a little darker, as if he suddenly wanted to fuck you right in the spot.

“Mine,” you decide, his house is actually closer but honestly you don't wanna get laid on his bachelor pad where he has probably banged a hundred girls, “so, are you down?”

"Oh, I'm so down, baby," he hastily rises from his side of the booth, pulling out his wallet to pay for dinner.

You're not sure what kind of door you’ve just opened but you're overly curious to peek behind it. Neither of you have never been romantic or sexually interested on the other. At least he's never gave you the impression that he ever was. So, you have absolutely no idea what prompted this impulse of wanting to feel him between your legs so badly to offer yourself as a test subject without even thinking about it.

Taking a hold of your hand, almost yanking you out of your seat, and rushing you out of the diner to find his bike and drive home only tells you that he’s just as eager to find what's behind that door, maybe even more than you, without a doubt. He’s Swaino after all, you wouldn’t expect anything less.

Things get a little awkward when you get home. The drive kinda cooled your head down and while you’re definitely not getting cold feet, you don’t know how to start. You're usually pretty straight forward after a date if you like someone, but until half an hour ago you never thought or wanted to jump into bed with Swaino. It takes you out of your comfort zone a little so you tread lightly and start by stepping out of your shoes as he sits at the end of your bed.

“Do you want me to play some music or something?” you suggest, going around the room to mood the lights, leaving only your night lamp on.

“No, I just wanna hear you sing,” Swaino says boldly, glancing at you as you move.

His response makes you chuckle lightly as you step in front of him, framing his face in your hands.

Staring at him for a beat, you sigh and dip your head to capture his lips just to break the ice. This wasn't part of the agreement but given what you're about to attempt, you figure it'd be easier to start with something simple. It's not the first time you've felt his lips however. Once you were playing suck and blow at a party, and he happened to be at your side when the card he was passing onto you fell and your lips touched briefly. You didn't read too much into that, and you just laughed it off.

This time is a long peck, followed by two shorter ones, and a huff coming out of his lips right after.

“Did I make you nervous?” you ask, thumbing his goatee on both sides.

“Kinda,” the corners of his mouth curve up.

“I didn't know you could get shaken.”

“I mean it's you, y'know? you’re not some random girl I met at the bar.”

There's an endearing glare in the way he looks at you, sort of bashful, clashing with the playful smile framed by his beard.

As he brings his palms to your hips, you tilt his head back and lean, on a whim, opening your mouth to kiss his lips with more intention this time. Warming slowly into it, your tongue dives in to search for his, at the same time his hands roam all over your ass. It's odd having him touching you like that, but it's a good kind of odd.

The kiss deepens and you find yourself being surrounded by his arms pulling you suddenly onto his lap, only to roll you into the mattress. He parts from your mouth as he places you on your back smoothly.

“Nice move,” you praise him.

“Oh, you haven't seen half of it yet,” his index finger trails from your neck, above your shirt, down to the waistband of your jeans to undo the button and zipper.

Biting onto your lower lip, you lift your ass so he can pull them off you.

Then, you prop yourself on your elbows to watch him as your knees part, with a little trepidation, offering yourself to him.

Swallowing hard, he kneels in between, staring at your blue panties for a moment before taking them off.

“Okay,” he claps his hands together, smoothing his palms back and forth like Mr. Miyagi, “let’s banana split this thing.”

“Don’t call it that,” you roll your eyes and scoot backwards on the bed up to the pillows, as he slides open the zipper of his green sweater, shrugging it off his shoulders quickly, and tossing it to the floor, before taking off the t-shirt underneath.

He licks his lips smugly, locking eyes with you as he lowers himself, stretching his form on the bed, and placing his head between your thighs.

It's easy to see he just wants to dive in and eat the hell out of you but, following your previous instructions, he keeps gazing at you, hooking an arm around your leg as his mouth brushes your inner thigh. Starting close to the knee, he drags his lips down, beard tickling your skin, raising goosebumps all over. He traces the same path back up to the knee but leaving a trail of kisses instead.

You’re still on your elbows when he moves to the opposite thigh to show the same love. At the same time, the hand attached to that arm that’s curled around your leg, begins exploring the rest of your skin. He pushes your sweater up and caresses your abdomen before sliding down your mound to cover your pussy; the plane of his palm lightly massaging all of it.

He does have a few moves of his own, but you know he’s trying to impress you after what he said– you’re not some random girl I met at the bar. It has you wondering if he’d ever thought about you and him hooking up like this. If he did, you must’ve been blind to it or he’s a really good actor.

Warming up to his caresses, you decide to pull your sweater over your head, in a little awkward position before laying your head on the pillow to stare at the ceiling. Extending your hand to bury your fingers in his hair, you run your nails on his scalp and he lets out a hum that sinks in your skin, dangerously close to your groin. Then, his tongue juts out and draws a line on that same spot, blowing some cool air on that wetness a moment after.

“I didn’t teach you that,” you lift your head slightly and he glances at you.

“I’m improvising. Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s good. You can keep going,” you pat his hair.

Swaino draws some air in before diving further to your core, continuing that trail of kisses to your vulva. You swallow, relaxing back on your pillow, trying to remain still but your legs start trembling anxiously the harder he goes. That and the grasp on his hair gives away how aroused you are already. Taking that as a cue, he brings out his tongue to trace your slit, teasing nicely on your clit.

“Abc’s or something else?” Asks Swaino, raking his fingers on your pubic hair.

“Something else,” you respond quickly, “you can go harder now.”

Nodding, he parts your lips, placing the plane of his tongue over your folds, giving a long lick that has you almost moaning as it touches your clit again. You shiver as he laps around it a few times before circling at your opening with the tip of his tongue. Then, he sucks your folds into his mouth, making you grip harder at his hair with both your hands, forcing a groan out of him.

Your hips slant shyly as heat coils in your lower abdomen. He locks one of his arms around your hips to keep you in place the moment he decides to go for the jewel in the crown. Wrapping his lips around your swollen nub, he blows you gradually harder and harder, tasting all the juices that he’s stirring out of you.

“Fingers,” you moan, “use your fucking fingers, Swaino.”

He hums around your clit and without letting it go, he inserts two fingers up to the hilt, curling them in and out, barely grazing your g-spot.

“Not that far… try… aaahh,” without letting you finish he slides them off a tad using your breathy moan as a clue that he’s found the right spot, “there, there…yes, don’t stop.”

Once he’s found the right rhythm, it takes more force out of him to keep you still. One of your heels digs at his back as the tip of his tongue goes wild on you. He grunts like an animal on your cunt, and makes his life mission to get you off like his life depended on it.

When you’re on the brink, he removes the arm he had around you so you can freely grind against him, granting you the liberty you needed to let yourself go and come undone. All the tension coiled at your core spreads through your body like wildfire as you push his head away from you.

You feel his weight shifting on the bed as he crawls over you and when you open your eyes, his face is hovering over yours, barely an inch from touching your nose; staring deeply at you as his breath catches, just as yours.

“You taste like cherries,” he mumbles over your lips.

“Shut up,” you laugh softly as your breathing evens out, observing the sheen layer of you covering his lips and clinging to the hairs of his beard, as his gold necklace touches your chest.

“Can I fuck you?” He purrs right over your lips.

You swallow hard, nodding at him, unable to resist his coarse charm right now, “did I make you hard?”

“I’m about to explode, baby.”

Using your hand to frame his jaw, you swipe your thumb on his bottom lip, uttering, “well, what are you waiting for? Take your pants off.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, go on.”

He pushes himself up and quickly removes his shoes and the rest of his clothes, exposing himself to you fully.

It’s nothing that you haven't seen before, as you reminded him earlier, you once saw him shaving himself in your bathroom last summer, one day you were going to the pool and he had bought the tightest speedo he could find to impress, as usual, some of the girls you were hanging with. He wasn’t as big as he is right now obviously.

Waving a dangerous flag in the air, he hastily goes back on top of you, nestling between your legs, rubbing himself in your juices before slipping inside you.

His eyes close briefly, his lips turning into a perfect O, as he tastes the waters, slanting his hips experimentally to find the best position. He props himself on one forearm, next to your head, as one of his fingers from his opposite hand hooks the strap of the bra to slide it off your shoulder and clutch at your breast.

“I knew you were big but you feel… really big,” you half exhale, squeezing around him as he moves.

“Yeah? Does it feel good?”

“So good,” you put your palm atop the back of his hand, urging him to grab as hard as he pleases.

“You like being touched like this?” he looks at your joined hands, covering your boob.

“Uh-hmm."

There’s something you can quite grasp at in the  intense way he looks at you while he fucks you, telling you how pretty you are and how good you feel with every thrust. As if you needed to develop feelings for him right now. You don’t. It’s just sex you have to remind yourself. Still, that high you’re both chasing clouds your mind, as he brings you close to the edge again.

Panting mouth to mouth, you don’t kiss but your lips graze as the pace of his hips picks up, sharply slamming into you. Aided by your earlier arousal and the strain of his cock, he doesn’t need more than a few minutes to make you come again and coat your walls almost at the same time.

“Did we just ruin our friendship?” His breathing falters.

“Big time.”

#swaino #swaino x reader #small engine repair #jon bernthal #terrance swaino x reader #terrance swaino #fanfiction #reader insert #darlingwrites #i'd never say this about my writing but- #this is a very badly written masterpiece

[lucy-sky]

Games We Play (Terrance Swaino x f!Reader)

Swaino suddenly discovers your secret drawer™ and is up for experiments.

Warnings: uhh... sex toys, handcuffs, oral sex f receiving, Swaino being a tease and making dumb jokes in bed :’)

Words: 2138; gif by me; AO3 link if you prefer reading there

A/N: um okay guys, this is once again a total PWP and I’m posting it from my shame pit, but I had to get it out of my system because I’ve been thinking of Swaino and sex toys for a shamelessly long time already okay bye :’)

Swaino’s lips are warm and insistent against your skin as he kisses your neck with abandon, hovering over you, his knee between your parted legs. You both are already hot and bothered, almost no clothes left on you except your panties and his ridiculously bright boxer briefs.

“Shit, babe… You got condoms, right?” Swaino grunts, looking at you with hope in his eyes.

“Damn… Did you forget?..” You bite your lip.

“No! No, it’s just… it’s in my jacket, and the jacket is… you know… somewhere…” He nods at the bedroom door. Yep, in the heat of a moment, you both started undressing once you got into your apartment, so the clothes could literally be anywhere, this’ll be a quest to find them all.

“Relax,” you grin at him. “I’m just kidding. Course I’ve got them. Here, check the left drawer.”

“Yeah,” he presses a quick kiss on your lips before sitting up and reaching the bedside table.

“Whoa. Hey, what’s that??”

Damn.

“I told you the left drawer, not the right one, T,” you groan, rolling your eyes at his reaction. Swaino looks like a fascinated kid as he turns to you with your vibrator in his hand. “Yes, I have a couple of toys, so? There’s nothing wrong with that.” You say it mostly to yourself, because even though you know it's true, you still feel the heat on your cheeks at the sight of Terrance discovering your stuff.

“Well, didn’t say it’s wrong…” He murmurs as he keeps curiously observing the device. “It just looks so… fancy. I thought they all look like uh… dildos or that rabbit thingy like in Sex and the City…”

“Sex and the City?” You can’t suppress a giggle.

“Hey, don’t give me that look! My sisters are obsessed with this fucking show,” he retorts, and his flushed face makes you laugh even more.

“Okay, so this one - I get it. It… Vibrates. And this?” Ignoring your amusement, Swaino grabs another toy from the drawer. Funny enough, its color almost matches his boxer briefs - bright pink.

“It’s uh… It’s a clitoral stimulator. You seriously haven’t seen such things before?”

“Nope. You’re the first girl whose secret stash I found,” he chuckles. “So, what exactly does it do?”

“Well… You just press it against the clit, and when you push this button it starts to kinda… suck in the air… And it feels good.”

“Yeah, you like that?” Swaino raises his eyebrows, clearly amused.

“Yep. I actually like it better than that vibrator,” you confess.

“Hope not better than me though, huh?..” He winks, sticking out his tongue.

“Ughh come on, stop fishing for compliments, Swaino! As if you don’t know what you do to me…”

“Oh yeah, for real?”

You roll your eyes again at the smug look he’s giving you.

“Yes, for real. I don’t even remember when I recharged them last time,okay?” At this point you start to lose your patience - you're lying here in nothing but your underwear, and he seems to be more interested in your sex toys rather than actually having sex with you. “Can we, maybe, go on now?..”

“Wait a minute… Now that’s really interesting!..” Swaino exclaims. “How can you explain that , ma'am?” With this, he fishes out of the drawer a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs.

“Oh, this… It’s just a silly birthday present from a friend. Look, it’s not even opened. I just tossed them here and forgot about them. T, please. Put them back and let's get to where we were before you opened this goddamn drawer!”

“Sure, but hey…” He gives you a wicked smirk, “I got an idea…”

“Oh no.”

“How ‘bout we use those, hmm?..” Swaino wiggles his eyebrows.

“The handcuffs? I-I really don’t know…” You stumble. On the one hand you’ve never thought of really using this toy - it just felt like such a thing belongs to porn films and stuff like that, so you couldn’t take it seriously. But on the other hand… On the other hand, the idea of giving yourself to Swaino like that actually seems kinda hot. Maybe you haven’t been dating for very long, no serious milestones in your relationship yet, but you trust him enough to be comfortable with it.

“I mean why the hell not?” Terrance shrugs. “I bet your friend would be glad to know you finally put the gift into use.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Swaino echoes you as if he can’t believe you agreed that easily.

“Yeah, alright. Let’s do it,” you nod.

“Ah, babe!” He grins at you, wicked twinkles in his eyes, as he tears the package open. “You’re not gonna be disappointed, I swear.”

“You better be right,” you chuckle, putting your hands up. It takes Swaino a couple of minutes to figure out how to fix them against the headboard with the cuffs. Drawing back, he observes the result of his “work”, that wicked grin still playing on his lips.

“Happy now?” You cock an eyebrow.

“I pretty much am, yeah. Wait here, I’m gonna go grab some pizza…”

“Swaino!” You kick him with your foot as he hoots with laughter.

“Just joking around. Calm down, sweetheart.”

You want to mutter something about how terribly unfunny his childish jokes sometimes are, especially right now, but this thought vanishes the second he leans in, capturing your lips in a deep passionate kiss. You moan into his mouth as his hands roam your sides, finally landing on your breasts, giving them a firm squeeze and letting his thumbs brush over your nipples. He then kisses slowly down your neck and chest, until the tip of his tongue makes contact with the hardened bud, causing you to gasp softly. Swaino hums as if he’s tasting something delicious as his lips envelop your nipple, gently sucking on it. You’re so lost in his sweet caress that only a familiar buzzing sound makes you open your eyes and come back to reality.

“T?..”

“Oh, um… I thought if this thing sucks in the air, it could work not just on the clit, right?” With this, he carefully presses the device’s head to your nipple. The unfamiliar sensation makes you squirm a little at first, but you have to admit it feels quite enjoyable.

“Good?” Terrance asks, examining the expression on your face.

“Mhmm… But I liked your mouth better.”

“Got it,” he smiles, and his lips are back at your breast.

Having both your nipples stimulated like that soon makes you crave for more. Your moans are getting louder, and you instinctively try to squeeze your thighs in an attempt to get some pressure on your aching clit.

“T… I-I need more…” You pant.

“Oh yeah, could you ask like a good girl?”

“Seriously, Swaino?”

“Come on, sweetheart. If we’re playing with handcuffs let’s do it right, huh?” He smirks, letting the fingers of his free hand gently rub against your still clothed pussy. Damn. This man’s gonna be the death of you.

“Okay, okay…” you murmur, bucking your hips against Swaino’s hand. “Please, Terrance, I need more…”

“Now that’s my baby girl,” he croons, looking very pleased with himself, as he moves your panties aside and finally presses the stimulator to where you need it to be. Your hips jerk as you let out a desperate whimper. Satisfied with the effect, Swaino wraps his free hand around your waist and dips his head into the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping on the tender skin there. And even though you’re already familiar with the toy, now it feels so much better. With Swaino that close to you, the warmth of his body against your skin, his lips and tongue and teeth on your neck… You’re completely blissed out. It’s only the first intensity level on your device, but it’s fine, you just don’t want it to end too soon, you love how the pleasure is slowly building in the pit of your belly, how your walls pulse and flutter even more when he whispers praises against your flushed skin.

“That’s it, baby girl… I love how you moan for me…”

He bites and sucks on your earlobe, and you feel so, so impossibly close to the edge, when all of a sudden the buzz dies and the toy stops working.

“Ughhhhh!...” you groan in disappointment.

“What the hell?” Swaino draws back, staring at the device in his hand confusedly.

“Told you I don’t remember when I recharged it,” you reply, breathing heavily.

“Well, fuck it then,” he tosses the toy back into the drawer. “It was fun while it lasted, but now… Time for some serious emergency measures. Get over here!”

“Oh thank god!” You exclaim, as he finally tugs your panties off and lifts your legs up to place them on his shoulders. You feel so shamelessly exposed like that, your hands still attached to the headboard, your pussy spread before your lover’s hungry gaze. You imagine how obscene the two of you look right now and it makes your insides clench with the need of release.

Swaino is quite unhurried though, as he tickles your inner thighs with his beard, leaving a trail of wet kisses on his way to your aching center.

“Damn, girl…” He glances at you, licking his lips. “You’re so soaked I might drown in there. That’s freakin’ hot, you know.”

“For fuck’s sake, Swaino! Can you stop being a tease, and just… just do something!.. You want me to beg?..”

“Well you could try…” With a devilish smirk on his face he dips his head down and gives your clit a quick stroke with just the tip of his tongue. After all the stimulation, this gesture hits you like a lightning strike, making you shudder and hiss through clenched teeth.

“Huh? Didn’t hear ya,” he licks you again, and you lose it.

“Ah! Please!” You cry out. At this moment you literally cannot think of anything else, and thankfully Swaino complies. Still grinning, he leans down, and you cry out again as his greedy mouth practically devours your pussy.

Your clit is an oversensitive bundle of nerves right now, and when he finally reaches it, your first reaction is to jerk away from his caress because it feels too much. Swaino holds you firmly though.

“Shhh… I got you, sweetheart, relax…” He hushes as his thumbs rub soothing circles against your thighs. “My bad. I’ll go slower now, okay?”

And he actually does. You moan in delight as the uncomfortable feeling of overstimulation disappears, making way to pure bliss. Swaino’s tongue is working wonders on you, as it always does. You desperately want to sink your fingers into his hair, to tug on it, to pull him closer. But somehow being like that, unable to touch or push him, completely at his mercy, turns you on as well. When he pushes two fingers into your heat and curls them just right, tongue still pressing against the throbbing bud, it doesn’t take you long to finally reach the climax. Your orgasm is intense and surprisingly long, and you’re pretty sure all the neighbors could hear your high-pitched moan.

“You alright?” Swaino asks when you get back to planet earth, still trembling a little from the aftershocks of your pleasure.

“I’m fucking great!” You breathe out. “But… Could you release me, maybe?”

“Oh. Sure.” He sits up and starts to rake around the drawer. “Shit. I think I lost the key…”

“What?!” Panic instantly rises up within you.

“Just kidding,” he laughs shamelessly. “Here it is!”

“It’s not funny, you idiot!” You punch him on the shoulder as soon as your hands are free again. But as silly as he can be, Swaino is not dumb, and he knows from the tone of your voice that you’re not really mad at him.

“Yeah, right, I’m an idiot. C’mere,” he rasps, catching your hand and pressing his lips against your wrist. And then he kisses you with sudden tenderness, the warmth of his tongue and the salty taste of your arousal on his lips make your head spin, as well as this smile of his. A kind of a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. Gosh, you love this stupid smug face so much.

“So, uh… Are you… Can we…” He glances down at the bulge between his legs, then looks back at you questioningly.

“Not so fast, cowboy,” you smirk, placing your hands on his shoulders to gently push him away. “Lay back down, honey. Now it’s my turn to be a tease.”

An expression of disappointment on Swaino’s face slowly turns into an excited grin, as you let your hands stroke down his torso until you reach his boxer briefs.

“I dunno what game are you playing now, sweetheart, but something tells me I ain’t gonna complain.”

*

Thank you for reading! 

(first fic of 2022, and it’s porn... if you still didn’t know what kind of a mutual I am to you, now you know - I’m a horny mutual :’D)

ANY FEEDBACK IS STILL GREATLY APPRECIATED! 0=)

#terrance swaino x reader #small engine repair #jon bernthal fanfiction #lucy tries to write

[darlingshane]

7 Days of Swaino

Day 7: End with a Bang

Pairing: Terrance Swaino x F!Reader

Content: Domestic Fluff. Crack. Smut.

Warnings: +18. Explicit.

Word Count: 777

Summary:  A very chill New Year’s Eve at home with Swaino.

You wanted to have a quiet New Year's Eve, and you got it. You woke up late and lounged all day on the couch, cuddling with Swaino in just a shirt and your underwear, watching movies, eating snacks and leftovers… but now, when the last day of December is minutes away from ending, you're ready to have some fun and spice things up a little.

You're by the kitchen sink when you decide to use the sprayer hose as a weapon on Swaino. Maybe it’s out of boredom. Maybe you just want to get back at him for making fun of you earlier. Perhaps it’s both… so, you catch him by surprise, when he’s facing away from you, by pulling the handle for a few seconds as you move the sprayer up and down, squirting water all over his body.

Breaking into laughter, you turn it off and stare at your shocked, soaking-wet boyfriend in his white t-shirt and his flashy red boxer briefs that say ho, ho, ho all around, that you got him for Christmas.

His lips curve up, but his gaze says you better run.

“You're gonna regret that, honey,” he combs his hair through his fingers, fixing it back in place.

Using the sprayer as a warning, you aim at him again, “I don't think so.”

“No? Watch me.”

He quickly has you cornered since you refuse to run and let go of the hose. You get to spray him a little more as he steps closer, but it's you that gets the worst this time when he gets one arm around your waist and keeps you in place, taking the weapon for himself to use it on you.

Now you're both drenched, as if you just entered a wet t-shirt contest. He'd win for sure with the way the thin fabric sticks to his skin, revealing the shape of his defined pecs and the little hardened peaks that are his nipples.

“Hey, my eyes are up here, lady,” he points a finger to his eyes, sounding mockingly offended at your blatant staring at his chest.

“I wasn't…”

Before you can finish your sentence, you’re squealing as Swaino suddenly picks you up, throwing your body over his shoulder and carrying you to the bedroom. In there, he spins your body on the mattress, laying you on your front, so he can straddle the back of your thighs, and use his palms to do a drumroll right on your ass. You’re laughing your head off as he gradually increases speed and intensity. The water that has soaked your panties makes it sound like a dulled splash. It doesn’t really hurt, and only lasts a few seconds before his palms start kneading your backside firmly.

Things heat up quickly after that, he pulls your underwear off you, spreads your thighs apart, and shoves his hand between your legs to massage the plane of your pussy with his whole palm.

You glance over your shoulder, biting your bottom lip, capturing the sheer lust sparkling out of his eyes, as if he was about to swallow you whole.

It doesn’t take him long to get you wet for real. It’s then that he removes his hand and buries his face in your arousal to drive you out of your mind– licking, sucking, and nibbling every inch of your cunt, as his beard scratches your skin.

Your core is ready to burst when he pulls away from you. He hastily removes his clothes and gets all over you again, fueled by how hard he is already from going down on you. He almost rips your shirt apart as he turns your body around, easily manhandling you.

You curl your legs around his hips and pull him flush against you, using your hands to bring his face closer and take over his lips. You moan into his mouth as one of his hands massages your breast, at the same time his hardness rubs right between your labia, collecting your arousal before guiding himself inside you.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” he breathes lewdly, moving his hand up to frame your jaw.

“Uh-huh. I just needed to fuck you one last time this year,” your tongue curls, drawing the shape of his mouth.

“You’re cutting it close, we’re going to miss New Year’s.”

“Fuck New Year’s,” you pant.

“Yeah, fuck it.”

You hear fireworks going off before you get off.

He drives harder into you until you can’t no longer hear, see or breathe. He tends to have that effect on you.

“Happy New Year, baby,” he mumbles after you reach orgasm.

“Happy New Year, Terry Bear.”

Credits: Divider by @firefly-graphics​

#bernthirstextravaganza #terrance swaino #terrance swaino x reader #swaino x reader #swaino #small engine repair #fanfiction #drabble #darlingwrites #7 days of swaino #jon bernthal

[lucy-sky]

BERNTHIRST SPRING FLING 2022

April 22 - Flower Friday

This story is a little bit longer than the ones I wrote on Tuesday and Thursday, and also I’m not sure if Swaino is in character enough - I probably made him a bit too sweet. But since I got the idea, who am I to fight it? Also yes, this is very self-indulgent :’)

I also decided to post all the 3 stories on AO3 as well [link] and to add them to my masterlist, because why not.

*

“Look, Swaino, I don’t know… Buy her flowers or something.”

“Why are you so grumpy today? You sound annoyed…”

“‘Cause I am. I am annoyed! See?” You gesture at the line of customers waiting for their coffee. “I’m a little busy right now, and you keep distracting me from work.”

“Fine, fine, sorry… Guess I chose the wrong time,” Swaino gives you an apologetic look. It always works. He can be a huge dumbass and really annoying at times, but you simply can’t be angry with him for too long. 

“Why are you even asking me about this?” You say in a calmer tone, handing a customer his cappuccino and grabbing a new papercup to make another. “So far, you didn’t have problems with picking up a girl.”

“Uh well… It’s sorta different this time.”

“Different?”

“Yeah, I mean… It’s not just “picking up a girl”, I… I kinda really like her, I guess,” he says, lowering his voice as if he’s telling you some big secret.

“I see,” you give him a soft chuckle. “This girl must be really special then, huh?”

“She is, yeah,” there’s an unusual warmth in Swaino’s voice, he even looks a little flustered when he says it. Wow. Apparently the man’s really in love. To be fair, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous. Just a tiny bit, but still. You're already used to being perceived by men mostly as a "bro" since you've never been great at flirting, or wearing sexy clothes, or anything like that. But no matter how many times you tell yourself you're completely fine on your own, sometimes you wish someone talked about you with such kind of warmth. Plus Swaino… Well, you hate to admit it, but you really find this bastard attractive in a way.

“Well, I really do think flowers are a nice touch,” you say. “For a start.”

“You think?”

“Yep. They create this, you know… Romantic mood. I think most girls appreciate romantic gestures, even if they don't admit it.”

“Okay, yeah… Wait, but… What kind of flowers? Roses?”

“Roses are fine, but… Some girls may find them a bit, you know… Banal.”

“Then what should I do?” Swaino looks puzzled.

“If I were you, I’d try to pick flowers that kinda… Fit her vibe,” you shrug.

“Fit her vibe… What the hell that’s supposed to mean?..”

“Look, if you like her, it means you know her at least a little bit, right? So just… Think of her and choose the flowers you feel like she would love. Or flowers that remind you of her. Something like that. I’m sure she would appreciate it.”

“Oh, okay... Got it.”

“Right. Now will you please let me work?..”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll uh… see ya around,” he nods. “Thanks a lot!”

— A WEEK LATER —

On St. Valentine’s Day you don’t feel very festive: you have a dentist appointment this morning, so you get to work later than usual.

“Hey there, Jane!” You greet your colleague as you enter the coffee shop. “Everything alright?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s great!” Jane smiles brightly. Her expression is suspiciously mischievous.

You head to your workplace behind the counter and blink in surprise. There’s a bouquet of flowers - bright orange gerber daisies. They look beautiful and cheerful, like a bunch of sunbeams.

“What’s that?” You ask, and Jane’s grin turns wider. 

“Oh! The courier brought the like half an hour ago. They’re for you!”

“What?” You stare at the flowers in confusion. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Absolutely not, I swear!”

“Okay, but… Who sent them?..”

“No idea. There was no card or anything… Probably you have a secret admirer!” Jane giggles excitedly. “So sweet!”

“No, come on…” You shake your head in disbelief. “I highly doubt it. Probably it’s a mistake. The courier got the address wrong or something…”

“But he had your full name, so it’s definitely for you! And you know what? I don’t get why you’re so surprised. It’s Valentine’s day after all…”

“Yeah, right,” you huff. Secret admirer… It sounds like a bad joke to you. You don’t really suffer from low self esteem, but for some reason you just couldn’t imagine someone having a crush on you… Maybe someone just wanted to cheer you up like this? Anyway, whoever sent the bouquet, you really appreciate their taste in flowers. Bright sunny colors like yellow and orange have always been your favorite ones, and you liked gerber daisies too. They are quite simple, not pretentious, but still very beautiful.

*

Your working day is almost over when Swaino enters the coffee shop.

“Hey there! Happy Valentines!” he winks as he approaches the counter.

“Hey! Right back at you,” you return the smile. “So, how’s your special girl? Did she appreciate the gift?”

“I dunno yet.”

“No?..” You frown.

“Well you see… That girl’s really very special, as you said…” he pauses before asking tentatively as he nods at the flowers on the counter, “You uh… You didn’t figure out who they’re from, do ya?”

“No, I… Wait a minute…” Your eyes widen at the sudden realization. “Did you… You send me these flowers?..”

“Uh-huh,” he chuckles, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I think they really fit your vibe. You like them?”

“They’re… really amazing, I love them. I can’t believe you actually… Turns out you know me better than I thought. But, Swaino… Why? I mean… You could just simply ask me out…”

“Just wasn’t quite sure if you’re interested in me or not, so I wanted to make sure you’re impressed enough,” he smirks.

“Jesus, Swaino,” you laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re… unbelievable.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment, babe. So um… Will you go out with me?” He raises his eyebrows.

“After this performance I guess I have no chance to say no,” you say, and he beams at you happily.

“Great! How about… Right now?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, your working day’s over in like…” Swaino glances at his watch, “fifteen minutes, am I right? And it’s Valentines, so…”

He looks at you with this cheeky wide grin on his face that makes his eyes crinkle adorably, and you think he already knows your answer.

“Okay. Why the hell not?”

*

a special tag for @skvatnavle because she loves Swaino :)

#BernthirstSpringFling #jon bernthal #terrance swaino x reader #small engine repair #lucy tries to write #moodboard #aesthetic #* #** #darlingshane

[darlingshane]

7 Days of Swaino

Day 6: Last Call

Pairing: Terrance Swaino x F!Reader

Content: Angst. Smut.

Warnings: +18. Explicit. Alcohol. Language. Crass. Offensive. Swaino is a douchebag. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: 1,6k

Summary:  Having Swaino checking you out while you work at the bar brings some unpleasant memories from high-school. Still, why start making good decisions now? After some animated banter, you decide to hook up with him.

Swaino has taken a seat at the bar and has been checking you out the whole time since his friends left about half an hour ago. It’s nothing new, you’re used to clients doing that half the time, but for some reason, tonight, it’s driving you insane to have him that close, scrutinizing your every move while you work.

He’s also been flirting relentlessly with a couple of 25 year-olds, but he glances at you when he thinks they’re not looking. You’ve been privy to all his yapping nonsense, that you hope to delete later from memory.

Maybe one of the reasons that’s riling you up is cause he doesn’t even remember you. You had a few classes together in high-school, but you haven’t seen each other ever since you moved out shortly after graduating. You’ve just recently come back to your hometown to work at this bar, of all places.

You remember Terrance Swaino clearly, but not so dearly. You did have a crush on him after all, a crush that was shattered the day he started pretending you didn’t exist after making out a couple of times with him. It was on you really, you had heard about his reputation prior to letting him stick his tongue in your face, but you were never the one to listen to gossip. You should have.

The clientele has gone down, close to last call, and the two girls that were hanging around him have left. Yet he remains on his seat, nursing his glass, and fixated on you like a hawk.

“Staring costs extra,” you finally dare to say to him the next time you refill his glass.

“I didn’t know this was that kind of bar,” he pulls out his wallet and places a few extra bucks next to his glass, “my bad.”

You roll your eyes as you cap the bottle and place it on the shelf, continuing your bartending duties, wiping the section of the bar that is empty.

“Are you new here? I’ve never seen you before,” asks Swaino.

“No, I don’t usually work nights.”

“You look familiar, though, where do I know you from?”

You can see his cogs turning for a moment when you glance at him.

“Think a little harder, maybe it’ll come back to you.”

He scoffs and takes another sip of his glass.

“Oh, oh…” a light bulb goes off in his head, and he uses his hand to point at you, at your legs specifically, “short-shorts, you uh… you played soccer. We made out that time… where was it… The lockers?”

“Short-shorts?” you shift in your boots, turning to face him, “that’s what you called me? You know how degrading that is?”

“What? It’s a compliment. You had nice legs… have, you still have good legs,” he quickly corrects himself, scanning your jean covered bottom half, “beautiful legs.”

“You haven't changed a bit, Swaino.”

“What did I do to make you so angry?”

“Do you need a list? Let's see… You've been preying on me like a creep, while you hit on other women. You just told me that you called me short-shorts, you probably didn't even know my name. We did in fact make out in the lockers a couple of times, which was completely a mistake, not only you're a terrible kisser, but then you acted like you didn't know me. Need more?”

There's a pregnant pause as he downs the rest of his drink.

“It's not healthy holding grudges like that, sweetheart…  Was I really that terrible?”

“You were a douchebag.”

“I mean, was the kiss that bad? Cause I thought it was great.”

“Is that what you took from what I said?”

He shrugs, “what can I say? I'm only as good as my reputation, right?”

You ignore him and his stupid-ass smirk to attend one of the parties that’s leaving as they settle their tab.

“Let’s make a deal…” he offers when they’ve left, “if I can remember your name, you let me make it up to you for that awful, terrible kiss.”

You almost snort, “what do you want? A gold star for remembering basic language? Uh-uh.”

“Okay, how about you just go easy on me? I was a kid. I did stupid things all the time.”

“You still are and do, by the way,” then you half-agree to his deal, coming with one of your own, “if you remember my name, I won’t spit in your drink the next time you’re here. How about that?”

He licks his lips and extends his hand up to you, “deal.”

You shake his hand, and lean your elbows on the edge of the bar right across from him, “okay, smart-ass. What’s my name?”

Swaino clears his throat as if he was building up to something like one of those mystery shows that cuts to commercial right before revealing who was the killer.

Then, he spells out your name letter by letter before saying it in one word.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could spell,” your eyes widen, comically, as you pick a pretzel from one bowl you have nearby and bring it to your mouth.

“See? I’m full of surprises.”

“I doubt that,” you click your tongue.

“Counter-offer, how about you have a drink with me right now?”

“I don’t drink when I’m working.”

“C’mon, you’re about to close. Have a lil fun, short-shorts.”

You let out a sight, checking on the one party left at one of the tables, and shrug, going against your better judgment.

“I guess…if you promise you'll never call me that again.”

“I’ll try.”

You know you're stepping into dangerous terrain agreeing to that, no matter how much of an asshole he is, you can't help but feel attracted to him and his smug, goateed-face. So you pour yourself a beer from the tap and have it with him while he grills you about what you've been doing all these years.

At some point, your boss comes around, asking if you're good for closing tonight because he has to leave early.

“Yeah, I'm good.”

“Don't worry, Boss, I'll make sure she gets home safely,” Swaino chimes in a friendly manner, giving that they know each other.

“You stay away from her and don't start any shit while I'm gone,” that's your boss warning him, “or I'll kick your sorry ass for good this time, Swaino.”

You'd be worried if the bar was packed, but now it’s down to him and that group in the booth, which doesn't take them long to leave shortly after either.

“Boyfriend?” Swaino asks, while you finish your drink with him.

You shake your head.

“Girlfriend?” He raises a brow.

“Why do you care?”

“Just trying to get to know you.”

“You think you have a chance, huh?”

“I mean, I bought you a drink.”

“No offense, but I have bigger standards now, Swaino.”

“Don’t you mean higher standards? Well, if we’re going for size, I have a bigger dick now. How's that for your standards?”

Crass. So stinking crass. And somehow it works on you. And you despise yourself for it, for even entertaining the idea of hooking up with him after that, and reducing yourself to that same level.

“As one of my favorite poets once said… it's not how big, it's how mean,” you wet your lips, finding his reaction completely unfazed at your response.

“What’s that? Dickinson’s?”

“Lady Gaga.”

“Hm.”

“How about you help me finish here, and then you can show me how big and how mean?” It’s almost New Year's Eve, so why start making good decisions now.

“Uhh…” and now you’ve floored him.

“Unless you're not up for it.”

“Nononono, I'm up. Totally up!” it comes out eagerly out of his mouth.

~~~~~~~~

With the little sense left in you, you take away his keys and choose to drive him in your car to your apartment.

You can feel the tension quietly building up on the drive. It continues as you cross the threshold and remove the heavier, outer layers before offering him a drink as if you were still at the bar.

“I didn't come here for a drink.”

All of a sudden he's all over your face, dipping to steal a kiss, slowly trying to figure out your mouth before letting his tongue slip between your lips and eating you with passion. You moan as he presses your back against the wall, his bulge pushing on your abdomen. It feels big, as he said.

A hand sneaks under your shirt to touch your boob, tugging the bra down, so he can feel all beneath his palm.

“Is this okay?” he pulls back from the kiss.

“Don't be a pussy, just grab me hard and fuck me, Swaino.”

His lips curl, and he follows your command, grabbing you like crazy, yanking your shirt off and then your bra, so he can take a better look at you.

He blindly undoes your jeans and sticks a hand into your panties while his mouth works one of your nipples. You're holding his head in place, burying your fingers in his hair, pulling at it when he circles your clit.

It all moves really fast from there. Having earned your arousal, he bends you over the table, pulling your jeans and underwear down, past your knees. You urge him to wrap it before fucking you, you might be crazy, but you're definitely not that reckless, so he does and pushes into you, stretching your opening, making your knees weak.

You hate everything about this— how good he feels inside you, how you squeeze around him, and how his hands grab your hips, slapping your ass a couple of times. How lewd he makes your sound, and how he grunts in the back of his throat at the same time. You loathe yourself for asking him to go harder and letting him fuck you unrestrained like that until you come around his hardness.

Credits: divider by @firefly-graphics​

#bernthirstextravaganza #terrance swaino #terrance swaino x reader #swaino x reader #fanfiction #small engine repair #darlingwrites #7 days of swaino #jon bernthal

[darlingshane]

7 Days of Swaino

Day 4: The Swainos

Pairing: Terrance Swaino x F!Reader

Content: Established Relationship. Family. Crack. Fluff.

Warnings: Language. Cheesiness.

Word Count: 1k

Summary: A dinner at The Swainos lead the two of you to consider and have a talk about the next step in your relationship.

You're meeting Terrance's family for the first time a few days after Christmas. You bailed on that day to be with your own family, but you promised him that you'd at least meet them before new year's.

It was about time. You’ve been dating since January. You actually met him last year, right before the holidays, when you went picking a Christmas tree at the tree farm. He was a worker there and helped you transport and secure the tree you chose on top of your car. Of course, him being Swaino was flirting with you the whole time and easily charmed you into giving him your number before letting you leave. You hit it off quickly after that…

And here you are now, climbing up the stairs to the front door of the house he grew up in.

You can hear the chaos Terrance described behind the door adorned with a wreath. It's not as bad as your boyfriend says, it's actually just loudness over all, of happiness and family, behind well lived walls covered on a fresh coat of paint of a dark green hue on the sliding boards surrounding the double-decker.

“Ready?” he clears his throat, placing a hand at the small of your back, “say the word we can go get burgers or something, we don't have to do this.”

It's actually cute that he's more nervous than you are, it eases you up.

“I'm not backing out now, Terry Bear,” that's your pet name for him.

“Yeah, maybe don't call me that in front of them? So help me God, I'd never hear the end of it.”

You chuckle a little as his palm slides to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as a lifeline before opening the door to the other side.

Before serving dinner, Terrance introduces you to everyone. You know most of their names and faces from pictures he's shown you, but he recites them again as a reminder. There’s only two of his sisters with their significant others and kids. Too many kids for you to handle at the same time, running around you like a whirlwind, playing a game of tag. One of them tries to climb up Swaino’s leg, and he ends up throwing the four-year-old over his shoulder, protecting him from being tagged. At that height, the little kid is covered. Him not so much. He's so preoccupied with the conversation going on that he doesn't see one of his oldest nephews charging a fist directly into his crotch.

“Motherfucker!” he shouts unexpectedly, followed by a string of threats, managing to at least handing you the little kid off his shoulder before chasing his attacker around the house.

Everyone breaks into laughter, some rooting for Terrance, others encouraging the kid to run faster. Eventually, he catches up with his nephew, and doesn't go easy on the little rascal. He picks him up, turning him over with his legs hooked to his shoulder until the kid's face turns red, and his mom ends up yelling at Swaino.

“You could've gone easier on him, he's just a kid,” you try not to laugh when he takes a seat next to you on the couch.

You've been handed his youngest niece, Debbie, a one-year-old that sits on your lap tugging at your necklace and hair.

“A kid, my ass! He knew what he was doing,” he grouches.

“Like you haven't ever done something like that when you were younger.”

“I’ve never done anything like that. It's this new generation of Swainos. They're savages.”

“You sound like— OW,” the baby pulls your hair a little harder and starts giggling.

“What did I tell you? All savages,” he coos at Debbie, tickling her sides, “yes you are, lil Dare Debbie.”

“She's just a baby,” you push your hair back and bounce her on your lap to keep her entertained.

“At least our kids will have your genes and turn out half-civilized, if we're lucky,” he blurts out.

You give him a questioning, genuinely-shocked stare.

“I didn't mean to say that out loud… Too soon?”

“I uh… I don't know. I haven't thought about it. I didn't think you wanted to-” you swallow anxiously, eyes darting between him and the baby.

“I wasn't sure I'd ever either, but…”

You put a pin on that as you are called for dinner.

You can feel yourself tensing up as you take a seat at the table. You've never really considered having kids with him until now. Sure, maybe you've pictured a couple of times, but it's not something that is necessarily on top of your list.

Now, there's a new possibility, a conversation to have later with him. Pondering about that distracts you from his family grilling you during dinner. All the attention makes you nervous too, they're fast talkers, so you do your best to keep up with their rhythm in between bites.

Swaino gets clearly annoyed when they start digging all the dirt from when he was a kid. In an attempt to make him feel better and letting him know that you don't care about any of it, you slide your hand over his thigh and squeeze softly.

It's later that you finally get to the car, and it's just the two of you, sitting quietly for a couple of minutes, both holding your breath about that conversation. You stare at your hands in your lap, fidgeting with a couple of your rings, as Swaino looks out the window.

“We don't even live together,” it's the first thing that occurs to you.

“We practically do.”

It's true, you either spent days at his place, or him at yours.

“Maybe we should.”

“So, you've thought about it?”

You nod, capturing his eyes, “It was never something that I've desperately wanted, but yeah, I thought that maybe one day down the road… we're doing good right? It just makes sense.”

“We're doing real good, sweetheart. I'm sorry that I freaked you out earlier. I thought I blew it.”

“I'm still a little freaked out that you said that out loud like that, but you didn't blow it.”

“C'mere,” he leans over the center console, extending one hand to cup your jaw, and presses his lips tenderly against yours, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, Terry Bear.”

Credits: Divider by @firefly-graphics​

#bernthirstextravaganza #swaino x reader #terrance swaino x reader #swaino #terrance swaino #small engine repair #fanfiction #fluff #7 days of swaino #darlingwrites #jon bernthal

[mrsswaino]

Hi, love! Can you write something about Swaino and a sweet and maybe a little naive nurse (or a doctor, maybe?) who's cares a lot about Crystal at the hospital?

I loved every fic you wrote 😍💙

doctors office .

terrance swaino x reader .

yes, anything for you my love ! this is such a cute concept! okay, okay, i will do my best.

“but i’d still recommend she stay another week - just so we can make sure her vitals stay stable.” you say, as crystal sleeps.

youd mainly been relaying any information about crystals health to swaino. him and packie said it was for your own good. youd only tell franks the positives, and swaino would tell him the negatives - without all the fancy words.

and recently itd mainly just been swaino, packi and frank were both working on separate projects for her once she was released. and frank just wanted someone there for every waking moment she had - and swaino was more than happy to oblige. after all crystals like his daughter.

but what he didnt expect is just how often you actually check in on her. not even always to take her vitals, but just to make sure shes okay. you couldnt help yourself, you knew she was in here because of an attempt, and she was just so sweet. i mean yes, she had an attitude but honestly it just added to her charm.

and sometimes youd stroll in when your shift was almost over, more often then not at this time crystal was asleep. but you didnt really mind. especially because recently swainos been there, and hes been quick to make conversation.

maybe it just his whore tendencies. hes not sure, but he finds himself wanting to make you laugh and smile.

“frank isnt gonna be too happy about that” he mutters under his breath.

“oh, dont i know. dont forget before you, packi, and karen showed up i was dealing with him all by myself” you joked, crossing your arms.

“thanks for lookin’ out for her, i dont know what we’d do without you” he stated, smiling at you.

“im just doing my job. all i know is shes lucky shes got someone like you looking out for her.”

and before you know it, youre all wrapped up in this conversation. you barely even notice your shifts over, with how easy he is to talk to. but eventually you find yourself bidding him a goodnight, and telling him to tell crystal you tried to say bye before your shift is over.

he finds himself in a content silence once you leave, until he hears a chuckle leaving the hospital bed.

“youre hopeless, swaino” crystal states, and all he can do is roll his eyes in response - cause shes right.

#jonny bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal #terrance swaino #terrance swaino x reader

[darlingshane]

7 Days of Swaino

Day 3: Love On The Rocks

Pairing: Terrance Swaino x F!Reader

Content: Neighbors with benefits. Angst. Some Crack.

Warnings: Alcohol. Language.

Word Count: 1k

Summary: You and Swaino aren’t on the best terms right now but he tries to cheer you up anyway after a bad day at work.  

You’re collecting your mail from the mailbox when you hear the unmistakable sound of Swaino’s Ducati turning around the corner, getting louder as it gets closer. You’ve come to know that revving engine pretty well since you’ve been neighbors for almost a year. It’s especially annoying given the day you had at work.

Your patience is very limited right now, and nothing good would come out of having to face Swaino.

Your relationship with him is something Facebook would label as… complicated. There's been a back and forth between you two that led to having some incredible sex and a bunch of other problems. Sometimes everything feels just right when you're with him, but when you start questioning things, trying to define your relationship… you can't seem to understand each other. He blames it on you, as you do on him. He says you're unavailable, you say he's not ready to settle down.

There's no halfway, you don't meet his expectations, and he doesn't meet yours, so lately it's been more friction than usual.

Right at this moment, you're not up for a fight. You just want to head inside and bury your face in the pillow and be done for today.

You mind your own business, tucking the mail in your bag as the bike slows down as it reaches the driveway.

“Hey, sunshine,” he utters, unapologetic smugly, knowing that you hate pet names, as he gets off the bike.

“I'm not in the mood, Swaino. Not today.” You sigh and get yourself inside before giving him the chance to piss you off more than you already are.

You’re greeted by your dog as soon as you're inside. You let him out the kitchen door to the backyard after planting a big kiss on his head, and take comfort in playing with him for a while, and having a nice, warm shower after.

When you return to the kitchen, you find Swaino going over your cupboards.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Looking for glasses.”

“No, I mean, why are you here? I don't remember giving you a key.”

“You left the back door open.”

“So, you just… invited yourself?”

“Wouldn't be the first time,” he slams one of the cabinets' doors.

“Second one, next to the fridge,” you point out, annoyed to the core, crossing your arms against your midsection.

He picks up two glasses and places them on the counter, “I thought you could use a drink so,” then grabs a bottle of whiskey, Jameson's, that he left on the table, showing it up to you, “I mean, it's Christmas after all.”

“It's December 27th.”

“Same thing, baby.”

You exhale through your nose, “one drink.”

“That a girl,” he smiles, opening the bottle as you take a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

You watch Swaino taking out some ice-cubes from your freezer and putting them in one of the glasses before filling them, because as clueless as he is sometimes, he knows you prefer your drink on the rocks.

Leaning forwards, he props his elbows on the countertop across from you, holding the glass to his lips quietly, as you take the smallest of sips from yours.

“By the way… that back door right there,” you use your head to point at said door, “is the only one you'll ever have access to.”

He almost snorts the whiskey out of his nose at the surprise of your unexpected statement.

“Not even a lil bit of teasing?”

“Not the slightest.”

“Your loss I guess,” he shrugs amused.

There's silence as you finish your drink.

“Do you want another one?” Swaino straightens up, tapping his fist on the counter.

You shake your head, “one's enough.”

“Wanna talk about what happened at work?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

You can see that he's trying, but as usual you're not sure if this is out of the goodness of his heart or if he's playing you. It's always hard to tell with him. He's the simplest, and most complicated man you've ever met.

“How about we go somewhere?”

“I think I'm just gonna go straight to bed.”

He cocks his head, licking his lips.

“By myself. Don't get any ideas.”

“C'mon, let's have dinner or something.”

“I don't think we should go there anymore.”

“Go where?”

“Don't play dumb with me. We've done this too many times, and we know how it ends, Swaino. Thanks for the drink, but I'm not interested in repeating history.”

“Well, me neither. I'm here, am I? You're the one always blowing me off, and I keep coming back like an asshole.”

“I didn't ask you to,” your eyes well up as you go around the bar, picking up the bottle, and shoving it against his chest, “leave.”

He sighs, placing it down on the table, as you cross your arms, holding yourself together, trying to not break in front of him.

“Tell me what happened today. Just get it out of your chest. I'm trying here…”

You shrug, swallowing the knot in your throat, “you wouldn't understand.”

“Right, because I'm dumb.”

“No. Because you're a guy… can you please… just go, Swaino. I'm tired.”

Your eyes blink, letting your tears slide down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” he takes a step closer, extending his arms up to you, “I'm just gonna hold you, alright?”

You don't know why, but you just nod and let him wrap you in his arms. Your own still tucked, holding your elbows tensely, as you melt down against his chest.

He cradles your head until you've calmed down, running his other palm up and down your back, “let it out, sweetheart.”

Getting lost in the comfort of his embrace, you pull your head back, shedding the last few tears and like a magnet, drawn to his lips, you tilt your face to capture his mouth.

It's wrong and toxic, and you're going to regret this later, but you can't help it.

Credits: Divider by @firefly-graphics​

#bernthirstextravaganza #swaino x reader #terrance swaino x reader #terrance swaino #swaino #small engine repair #fanfiction #angst #darlingwrites #7 days of swaino #drabble #jon bernthal