A/N: HELLO! So here is the long awaited "smutty" scene from Tongue Tied's Chapter 20! I know I promised this a LONG time ago, but well, I only recently got myself out of my writer's block rut, so please excuse me.

For those who have NOT read Tongue Tied, I strongly suggest that you get out of this fic and go read it! No, that was not me promoting my story, but instead trying to push you away from spoilers if you ever plan to read it one day.

For those who do NOT have ANY plans of reading Tongue Tied (don't say I didn't warn you) and are just looking for something rated M to turn you on (wink wink), then go right ahead!

For those who HAVE read Tongue Tied, you'll know exactly where this scene is from! I want to thank you so much for the support, and I am loving the fandom feud over Skye and who she ends up with! Really, your enthusiastic reviews and all the love you guys have been showering me with has brought my back to Fanfiction, after starting this Fic almost two years ago. Alright, I don't want to keep you any longer! Enjoy a look into this dirty side of my mind, loves. Mwah!

== lostconcoctions (ADD ME ON MCL - yep, I have the same username so I hope you don't get lost over to my profile on the way there)

illustration by timii95 on deviantart

Instant Need : Tongue Tied's Chapter 20 in detail

He wasn't sure what to do here. In fact, he never was. Lysander barely knew how to plan things out. In fact, he couldn't even keep track of where he placed his car keys everyday, only to figure out that they had been in his pocket the whole time. Or maybe locked inside the car itself. He was just that scatterbrained.

So he shouldn't have been surprised when he showed up at Skylar Whitman's house completely unprepared. But hey, he tried. In his bag, there was a brown paper bag. He brought food. Girls liked food, he was sure of it. At least, his girlfriend did. He watched her scarf down remarkable amounts of chocolate in one sitting, and after announcing that she was full and would never again take another bite, he would sneak up to her ten minutes later to find Skye rummaging through the kitchen and picking off different types of cheeses to her liking.

Before ringing the doorbell, Lysander did a quick check on the window for his reflection. He looked the same as always, and he silently hated himself for it. He could've tried to fix up. But he was so distracted with racing the clock and getting away from Leigh that his appearance was the least of his concerns. Plus, Skye never seemed to comment about how he looked—why should it matter now?

Because she's always perfect and you're always…not.

Lysander let out a ragged breath. It was true. Now, Lysander wasn't saying that Skye was always in tip top condition. In fact, when he met her she was bawling her eyes out, with a tear in her sweater and a loose flap on her boot. Maybe it was because he first saw her like this, lost and broken over something, that he had become so enthralled. It wasn't his fault either. She was the one who mistook his car for hers. And god, was he happy she did that.

Throughout the span of their relationship, Lysander figured something out that no book, no song, no play would teach him. It was like tending for flowers, the ones he liked to look at in his secluded sanctuary in school. Let them be, and they wilt. Tend to them, love them, and they become beautiful. And once you see that beauty, even as their condition falters, you can't stop seeing that beauty. The funny thing to Lysander was, Skye was definitely more strong-willed than he was. Flowers were delicate, frail and graceful. Skylar Whitman was none of those three.

One to speak her mind before thinking, to fight when she had to, poke her nose in things that could get her in trouble, and about the graceful part—well, let's just say Lysander had witnessed a fair share of her clumsy moments.

Okay. He was definitely stalling. And getting lost in thought. The watch on his wrist reminded him that he had been standing out in the cold for a good five minutes, contemplating instead of actually doing anything.

Here goes nothing…

He raised his free hand to press the button. A ringing sound chimed from the inside. A few seconds later, the wooden door flew open, and she was standing there: wet hair, flushed cheeks, a Christmas sweater and gray socks. Her tights clung to her skin so tightly, Lysander blushed just thinking about her thighs. She must have just stepped out of the shower.

She looked at him with a puzzled look, as if she hadn't expected to see him. But before she could speak, Lysander decided to step forward.

"I snuck out." He explained quickly. "I needed more time with you."

Before Skye could react, the Steel Samurai ringtone sounded from her cellphone. Her dark eyes didn't leave his own as she picked up the call.

"Hello?" God, her voice made his palms sweat. It was low, even, not a singing voice, but the type you wanted to hear speak forever and ever. Her words often tripped over the others though, but he found it nothing less than cute when she attempted to jump back from it.

Lysander knew the voice on the other line too well, from hearing its high pitched melody around his own house. He couldn't make out what she was saying, but caught a few words from Rosalya like "promise", "take you out", "after the trip".

"Th-That's too bad Rosa." Skye was saying. Her gaze was pouring into his own, and he knew her eyes were looking at him from head-to-toe. She was always analyzing, as if she needed to memorize him at every chance she got. "I guess we'll have to give it a…"

Getting slightly impatient, he decided to take matters in his own hands and stepped closer to the receiver, inches away from the mouth he wanted so desperately to kiss. "Rain check."

His slender fingers slipped the phone out of her grasp and expertly dropped it into the pocket of her sweater, before sealing the space between them with a tender kiss on her lips. Where their mouths met, it was burning hot. Lysander had very little control over himself, which he found unpleasant but strangely mesmerizing. No novel could fully describe the extent of what he felt, the attraction and the urgency that burned in his chest. Skye's lips weren't the first ones his had touched, but he sure as hell hoped that they would be the last.

Every nerve on his body seemed to be on fire. The better part of Lysander begged him to regain composure, because he was noticeably melting into putty by the second.

"I…I…B-Brought…dinner…" His attempts to speak were failing when her soft lips pressed against the crook of his neck, and her warmth breath sent all the air out of his body.

Suddenly, that feeling that was close to heaven stopped. And when Lysander focused again, opening his eyes slowly, Skye was looking at him. He couldn't completely comprehend why. He was still confused as to why the kissing had stopped.

"W-Why are you looking at me like that?" He said.

"Nothing. Let's eat." Skye shrugged her shoulders and smiled. Just like that, she was perky and hungry again. Lysander wondered how she did that; took the brown paper bag out from his grasp and set up camp, while his mind was still trying to unscramble itself.

She had fixed up all the food perfectly, and they talked and Lysander was himself again. Not fumbling, not sweating, not on-edge. They were eating, and Skye was going on about something, stuffing her face with sweets and chocolate milk.

When they were finished and the food was set off to the side, Skye crawled in closer to Lysander and leaned on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and drew her in.

"Mmm," she said. "That was good food."

"Yes, it was." Lysander nodded. He was so full, he wondered how he'd look if she took his clothes off at that moment. No—wait, he wasn't thinking about that. Lysander wasn't the type to—

Without thinking about it, Skye's hand rested on his thigh and thumbed the fabric on his pants. She was speaking, but her voice became a murmur compared to her touch. Before she could keep going with her movements, Lysander cocked his head to look at her. His heart was beating a mile a minute.

"Skye." He whispered.

"Mmm?"

I want you. I want this. I want you to—

Skye didn't have to ask. One look in his eyes and she felt the same desire bubble up, the same desire that was radiating off him. He couldn't reply. She had his mouth on hers, then his tongue gliding inside. Her fingers grasped and pulled at his hair for him to come closer, kiss her harder. He was getting turned on again. He always did. Skye turned into another person when she wanted something.

His hands flew to her dark hair and the back of her neck. He had her pinned down under his weight. Her back hit the carpet and Lysander's lips kept her there. A carnal hunger was taking over him, and he wasn't entirely sure if he let it get the best of him. Skye was squirming against him, her hips rubbing against his. Lysander let out an unfamiliar moan. His erection was impossible to ignore at this point. It prodded against her soft thighs, and he wanted nothing more than to have her.

"Lys, let me…" Her swift fingers undid the button of his jeans. And oh God, he was so desperate for her. He knows it. Skye knows it too, judging from what's in his pants. Skye was flushed, but she knew what to do, what he wanted her to do. Still, a new helplessness flooded over her. Warm fingers had found their way between her thighs. Lysander felt the wetness through her leggings, and that fact, the fact that this made her wet drove him crazy. Insane. She couldn't speak any longer. He was kneading, moving expertly his fingers, pushing her over the edge.

"Yes—Please—Lys, please…"

His hands were searching for the hem of her sweater, and he pushed it upwards over her head to reveal the supple breasts that she always keeps hidden under her layers. Like instinct, he was on her. God, and when she felt his hot mouth surround her nipples she let out a whimper.

"L-Lys…" She breathed, still squirming her hips against him. He wouldn't let her out. He sucked on her breasts and listened to the yelps that escaped her throat. He wasn't sure what exactly he should be doing. But he knew what he wanted. And he knew it was Skye.

Her eyes seemed to loll to the back of her as she moaned. Lysander's tongue was flicking against her nipple over and over again, then alternating it with the needy suction of his lips. All the while, he kept his fingers rubbing her clit over the fabric. The more he did it, the faster he went, the jerk of her body was growing to be more and more uninhibited, and she was practically begging for him.

And he was so hard. He had never been this hard before. He felt it pulsing, restricted inside his jeans, and just wanted them off. God, and he still had his pants on. Why did he still have his pants on?

As if to tantalize him, Skye reached over to button his shirt with her left hand from top to bottom, taking her sweet time with it too. Lysander watched in anticipation, but he totally forgot about it when he felt a firm grip fold around his erection.

Skye was torturing him, keeping one hand rubbing against his hard-on, and the other pulling apart his dress shirt. But he didn't protest. He savored it, every single thing she was doing to him. Once she gets the last button open, Lysander had her pinned again. His hand had snatched her wrists up and kept them in place. He swallows, and darts to suck on the warm skin of her neck. His chest was so firm against hers, his heat was completely overwhelming. When she pushed his mouth off from her neck, her gaze was met with absolutely lost, mad, needy eyes. His breathing was rough.

Skye's ground herself against him. They both fought the bottoms off each other, Lysander's jeans and all taking longer than Skye's thin and soaking panties. She laid her eyes on his throbbing cock, and swallowed. Lysander was red in the face.

"It's…That's…" she kept her eyes fixated. Lysander turned crimson this time and averted his eyes. He couldn't stop the prominent way it stood right in front of her, in fact, having her look at it for longer just made him anticipate even more what she was going to do next.

"S-Skye, you've already seen it."

"It's so thick." She was still wide-eyed. Not to mention long. And huge.

Skye had absolutely no barrier to her thoughts, Lysander knew that as well as anybody. Impulsively, she gripped his length and felt it pulsate in her hand.

"A-Ah…!"

She was milking it now, and Lysander was losing his control of the situation. She cupped his balls and gently kneaded in circles, and the reaction from Lysander implied he had never been touched there, let alone even paid attention to how good that felt.

"Fuck." he choked. Skye rarely heard him curse.

His hips jerked as she changed her rhythm and her grip was so hot, so tight, and so fast-paced, and he was leaking pre-cum again. He never wanted it to stop, wanted to feel her pull him, milk him out and over the brink, wanted to feel her and never feel anyone else.

"I love you." He breathed out, biting her lip. "I love you, I love you…" He was desperate. Now, it was Lysander moving his hips, grinding himself into her hold. Instinctively he snaked his hand between her waiting entrance and pressed his fingers to massage the lips while his thumb kneaded her clit in steady circles. Skye muffled a sound, and it sounded pathetic to her ears but more like music to his. He pushed his fingers inside her, and began to work his fingers in and out, in an out. More and more, harder, faster, stronger, her lips parted to let out a soft groan.

She continued to wrap her hand around his length, switching the way she pumped her wrist. And she paid close attention to what made his hips snap, and his chest rise. She was learning, and he was learning, completely from instinct.

And it was all like that. Everything was instinct. Neither of them knew exactly how this worked, what was right, what was wrong, but they were sure as hell sure they wanted to give whatever it was to each other as best as they could.

"I love you too." she finally replied.

Skye couldn't take it much longer. She attacked his mouth again, this time using enough force to get him on his back and under her. Keeping steady their kisses, she let her hips meet his. This was so new to her, to both of them. It was like seeing the real Lysander, the innermost parts of him, alongside who he always was. He was fighting to keep himself gentle, put together, but when the instant need hit him, it hit him hard. And Skye was like fire. She had set her mind to it. She wanted him.

Her hips moved, slowly first, like their mouths. But when she felt the tip of his cock, already leaking from pre-cum and they hadn't even started yet, she let out a whimper. She was torturing herself too with the wait.

"S-Skye." Lysander choked against her mouth. He needed her. It was a need. Want. More. Everything. He wanted it all.

This all felt so fast, desperate, animalistic. Absolute pleasure was everything. Skye understood, and when she pulled away from the kiss, she pushed her hips down to meet him. Then she felt it slide inside, stretch her, and halfway, her breathing ceased to make way for a soft gasp.

It was at this point that Lysander knew he was gone.

It was a tightness that was unlike anything he ever felt wrap around him. It was warm and wet and enveloping his whole shaft, making his breath constrict from the overwhelming pleasure rushing through his body. It was tight, so tight, and he was breaking a barrier in her with a sudden movement, and god, it was hard to breathe.

For her, he was pushing her apart, stretching and making his way in. And it was more than anything she had ever felt before. He had readied her, prepared her opening for him, but she knew when she laid her eyes on his length that the thickness of it would be no match for his long fingers. Everything seemed to blur around her, and it was right at her core that she was feeling something completely different. He was like pressing a button that unlocked thousands of nerves inside her.

"Ah!" Skye cried out, her head tilting back. Lysander's eyes flew open.

"Skye!" He gasped, half completely concerned and half completely lost inside her. Literally. "Did I hurt you—O-O-Oh…"

He wasn't given the chance to finish. Skye already had her palms flat against his torso, and supporting herself as she moved up and down, up and down, her hips bringing him heaven and pleasure and perfection with every single slide. There's a hungry look in her eyes, one that he had never completely seen before, but there it was. And she was glowing on top of him, and it was beautiful.

His cock is throbbing just from looking at her like this. Her cheeks were flushed, her short hair was a mess, her eyes were intense and her lips red from kissing.

There was no going back now. She was moving her hips, gracefully and urgently. She needed this too. And she couldn't believe it, not even a little bit. He was perfection. She had her hips, her body, wrapped around perfection. His face was red, and he was sweating. His strong hands gripped her at the waist and one on her breast. She arched her back and moved swiftly, pulling him along with her, drawing out every breath with wracking pleasure.

She was focused on him, and watching as he moaned and dug his nails even deeper into her skin. She was keeping herself steady on his chest as her legs carried her weight. Lysander was seething, God, he was coming loose. He gripped her short dark messy hair, and pulled. She moaned and held on to him tighter.

"Skye." He manages, his voice sounding ragged and his mouth was dry.

"Mmm?" She barely responds. Her eyes are shut tight and her lips formed the shape of an O. She was still moving, and with every slide, he was coming apart.

"S-Skye, wait—" Lysander choked, pulling his hips back to separate them.

"W-What…What?" Skye's eyes looked cloudy, and she was lost and confused where the feelings went.

"I'm going to finish if you keep doing that." Lysander said with concern.

"I thought that was the point." she replied.

Lysander replied, "No. Not until I finish you."

With one swift movement and the strength of his body, Lysander moved Skye off of him and had her pinned down again on the carpet. Lysander gripped himself in his hand and guides it to her dripping, begging entrance.

"L-Lys, what are—oh—Jesus—" she choked.

Now, he's in control. The fit was so firm, so hot and moist, that Lysander wasn't sure if he could keep himself steady. Already, his knees were weak from the sensations.

He sucked it up and now, he was determined. He captured her lips again in his and pumped his hips back and forth, drawing in and out. The slapping sound of skin on skin, the cries and the curses, was all that filled his ears.

"Fuck—" Skye moans. "Fuck, yes."

"God—" He's not making any sense. He's too focused on his cock, finishing her, finishing himself. "Hell, Skye, oh God…"

He's pushing into her with urgency, earnestly, and there was nothing he could think about now. There was no room for anything else, just this, this need, that he was determined to fulfil.

Anything he had ever felt before, every time he had jerked himself off a novel he read, or his imagination had nothing. Absolutely nothing on this. She was squeezing every inch of him, down to the base.

"You—" she moaned. "You—Yes, don't stop, that's it—" she was babbling. "God, that's it—right there—Fuck—Please…"

Lysander licks his lips, and he's trying to concentrate, trying not to finish. And she's writhing under him. He can feel her fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, her legs wrapped around his waist urging him closer and closer to finish.

"Yes—like that—oh God—

"This?" Lysander grits out, working his hips to hit a certain angle that made her curse profanities that he hadn't even heard of.

"Don't stop, Lys—"

"I don't," He huffed. "Plan…to—"

She fists his hair, and Lysander is so close, he knows he's so close, and she is too.

There. She's pushed over her breaking point, and she freezes for that moment, her hips snap and stop, Lysander keeps going, then she yells out, gripping him tighter against her.

"Lysander—"

Lysander looks up to see her face, as a wave of pleasure crashes into her. Her cheeks flush a darker red, her eyes snap shut and her mouth falls open. She yells out his name, following more cursing and incoherent words. He laces their fingers together as she trembles around him, and she's hazy, her thoughts aren't making any sense, if she was even having any. There was no thinking—just feeling. She was falling apart in every way. When she was finished, her breathing was heavy and she had to blink a couple of times for things to come into focus. Lysander was still watching her, taking in her expressions of what he was just able to see.

"That…" Skye heaved. "That was…"

She decided not to finish her sentence. "It's your turn."

Lysander's eyebrows shot up, and he began again the motions. This was getting too intense, and he was so close, God, he already felt it building up and pushing the boiling point. Remembering that he wasn't wearing a condom, he pulled out of her and stopped himself. He had never hated condoms so much in his life. He sat back on his heels, and he was kneeling, sweating, heaving. His skin was contrasted with his red, pulsing shaft that stood rigid and facing her.

"Skye," his voice was shaking. "I'm not wearing a…"

But Skye already knew. Lysander felt her lips surround the head first, then her grip at the base. She moved her head up and down, up and down, and then it was him throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Oh, God, that…" He groaned. "Shit…Skye…Shit."

Every flick of her tongue pushed his limits. Her hand was moving fast, faster, faster, and he was overridden with all of it. Her lips were sucking and she was milking him out, more and more, and his hands were in her hair again, and his lungs were struggling to breathe, just like how his body couldn't keep from shaking until finally, Lysander climaxed, moans and sounds he didn't think he could make, he was making. Hot, wet liquid spurted into her mouth, and his fingers held her hair, keeping her wrapped around him as his cock twitched inside her.

When he's done, his grip loosens, and Skye pulls away to swallow what was in her mouth. Lysander suddenly feels everything he had lost touch with. He felt the heat, how he was sweating so hard from head to toe, his hair was matted against his forehead and his breathing was heavy. He was exhausted and completely out of it.

Skye already had a little box of chocolate milk in her hand as she sipped away. When she put it down, she crawled over to him, and Lysander couldn't help but still look at the way her breasts rippled with her every move.

When she reached him, she brushed away his silver hair and placed a delicate kiss on his forehead.

"You didn't tell me you could do that." she was smiling.

Lysander was finally getting his voice back. "I…I didn't know that I could."

"Well," Skye was giddy. She was equally as exhausted. "Whatever it was, that was perfect."

It wasn't long afterwards that they had curled up next to each other, wrapped around in the quilt to keep them warm. Though it wasn't much warmth that they needed, not after that. The fireplace was still burning, the food was still in place, but everything was different.

"That…Didn't hurt you at all?" Lysander asked afterwards, suddenly remembering the whimpering sound she made when he had first slid inside her.

"No." Skye replied. She was tracing circles on his chest, and littering delicate kisses on the trail that her fingers left. "Did you think it would hurt?"

"I always read…" He trailed off. He was sure that it stated in one of Rosa's magazines that the first time was somewhat going to be painful for her. "Never mind."

Skye chuckled and pressed a kiss to his neck. "They say that it hurts the first time, but I think they're wrong. You took time to relax me, work me open and prepare me with all that foreplay."

"So you mean those girls in the magazine probably made love with some guys that didn't have the patience for it?"

"I think that was just fucking." Skye mused. "I wouldn't call it making love if the boy didn't take time with foreplay."

"Ah. Well, I don't know why they would skip that part." Lysander replied. "Watching your eyes and hearing your moans was well worth it."

"Mmhmm… Hey, what magazines?"

"U-Uhm…" Lysander blushed. "Nothing."

"Lys!" Skye burst out laughing. "Did you go out and buy a Cosmo magazine or something?"

"N-No!" His cheeks were bright red. God, he couldn't believe he was still blushing after their sweaty activity. "Rosa left one of the issues back home. I just happened to flip to the part about losing your virginity."

"Oh man, even I don't read those." She laughed. "But I'm glad that the process of taking my virginity concerned you enough to read up about it."

And she flashed him a smile because she genuinely meant it.

And she was so beautiful, Lysander gazed with glassy eyes to take in this adorable and mysterious girl lying naked next to him.

"I do love you, Skylar." He said softly. "I love you and maybe it's foolish to throw that around so much when I'm with you, because we're so young, and I think maybe we don't even know what love is exactly. But I know right now I love you. And tomorrow, I know I'll wake up and love you more and more."

His words brought tears to her eyes, that she willed not to fall. It would be a bad time to cry right now. She blinked them away and propped herself up on her elbows to look at him. His eyes looked faraway and bright, like he was musing about love and the chemistry of their bodies and minds, and maybe the constellations too. He probably was. But when she caught his gaze, he stayed locked in her dark eyes and her dark hair, her soft rosy skin and her ever-sweet, ever-contemplating, ever-intriguing expression.

"I can't say anything to top that off." she said. "So all I can say is, maybe we're young and maybe we're foolish, maybe we don't know anything at all, but at least we know each other, and we can figure everything else out later."

"Yes." He agreed. "I hope to, always."