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#me: you know what that sounds so much better let's do that
gurugirl · 2 days
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Sex Tutor
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Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well���” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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luveline · 2 days
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omg jade i heard you asking for hotch reqs and i RAN to your inbox
what about hotch taking care of r after they have a lil baby?? i think if i saw that man hold a new baby id die!!!! he could hole their whole head in the palm of his hand 😭😭😭
Every time you move, your hips and more intimate regions hurt like a hot poker. You probably won’t cry, but you require some tylenol and some sympathy to carry on. “Hotch?” you ask. 
Silence. You tip your head back over the armrest to find him. Even upside down, he looks handsome, sitting in the two seater with your little bundle of agony in his arms. Or, arm. The baby rests neatly in the curve of his forearm, his free hand dedicated to the baby’s small back. 
“Hotch?” 
“Who is she talking to?” Hotch asks your baby gently. You know what he’s doing immediately. 
“You get so hung up on the Hotch thing, if you didn’t want to be called Hotch, you shouldn’t have introduced yourself as Hotch.”  
You’ve been calling him Hotch for years, you aren’t going to suddenly kick the habit now. 
“She was my subordinate,” Hotch tells the baby. “She couldn’t have special treatment, even if she is the prettiest subordinate I ever had. It wouldn’t have been fair.” 
“I wouldn’t mind some more tylenol.” 
He raises his gaze. You twist into a painful but better suited position to watch him move the baby closer to his collar, his hand covering the entirety of the baby’s small head. Hotch said Jack was a little baby too, but you’d been terrified regardless, and no matter the size, it was too big for you to come out of the ordeal unscathed. Tylenol isn’t so much wanted as required. 
“I’ll get it for you,” he promises. 
“Thank you, Aaron.” 
“Oh, you’re welcome, honey.” 
He stands and shifts your tiny baby further into his chest, little snores pressed to his collar. “You okay to take him? I’ll make you some lunch at the same time.”
“I can’t eat.” 
“Just chips and a sandwich, honey. You can manage that.”  
You open your arms, letting Hotch lower your baby down into your arms and the surrounding nest of blankets. “You need to go see where Jack is,” you say. 
“I know,” Hotch says, kissing your cheek quickly. “I’m gonna make his lunch too. I’ll be right back.” 
You cuddle your baby to your chest and lean back. Your baby Hotchner is, as previously stated, so tiny, but he’s a nice weight against you, and he sleeps like a champ. You thought easy babies were a myth until now. So far he’s done nothing but sleep and stare at you whenever you talk. You think it’s love, or the surprise of seeing the voices that talked to him nonstop while he was in your belly now out in the open. He does the same to Hotch whenever he’s awake. 
You haven’t named him yet. You asked Jack for help, but he’d recommended you name your new baby Mister Awesome, so you’re at a loss for now. It doesn’t matter, though. He’ll have a name eventually. Until then, he’s the baby. And he’s very well loved. 
You wish he hadn’t hurt so badly to bring into the world, is all. 
Somewhere deeper in the house, Jack tumbles down the stairs, to Hotch's audible horror. “Are you alright? What are you doing, buddy?” 
“I’m being quick!” 
“Please be careful!” There’s the sound of a kiss. “You sure you’re okay? Yeah? Gonna go and keep Y/N company?” 
“Yeah, dad.” 
“Okay, thank you. I’m gonna make your lunch now, any requests?” 
“Peanut butter. And chips. And pretzels. And orange slices? And–”
“How about I bring you lots of everything, bud?” 
“Yes. Please. Hug?” 
They must hug, though you can’t see or hear it, as Jack walks into the living room with wildly tousled hair and a smile. He climbs over the back of the couch even though he shouldn’t, dropping onto your feet, a tangle of arms and legs. “Hi, Y/N.” 
“Hi baby. You hungry?” 
“Dad’s gonna make me a sandwich.” 
You reach over to collect his hand in yours, squeezing his fingers gently. You’d thought for sure that having a baby in the house would upset him, if only because his usual routine was disrupted —he’d had to make room for you first, and now suddenly there’s a new baby taking all the attention? it’s not what only kids usually want— but Jack’s an easy kid too. He squeezes your hand back, shimmying up the couch to lean on your leg. It aches, every touch to your lower half a reminder of the pain further inward, but he’s not rough. He climbs further onto your leg and rests his cheek on your shoulder. 
“Is this a cuddle?” you murmur. 
“Pretty please.” 
“No please required.” You frown to yourself, trying to juggle the baby into the opposite arm so you can wrap the one closest to Jack around his shoulders. You manage it poorly. “Dad makes this look so easy.” 
“He has longer arms,” Jack says with a shrug. His nose jabs the skin just above your chest. “Don’t worry about it.” 
“I won’t. Thank you, babe.” 
Jack touches the baby’s back. “He’s sleeping?” 
“Yeah. Must be weird getting to sleep all the time and then suddenly being born. At least he’s not crying.” 
You and Jack lay with each other for a while, watching the baby snore as you whisper about what Hotch is making for lunch. You wish he’d brought you the tylenol before he started, but he’s got a lot going on. You’re glad he’s the one making lunch (though you can’t be expected to right now, considering). The idea of having to stand there and butter a sub roll sounds like a low level of torture. 
“Don’t let me fall asleep holding the baby,” you tell Jack, your eyes drifting closed as Jack snuggles closer to your face.
“I can go get dad.” 
“I’m here,” Hotch says swiftly. You drag your face to the side to see him in the doorway, two dinner trays balanced with ease in his hands despite their obvious weight and full glasses on either side. “Don’t fall asleep, I’m coming. Sorry about the wait.” 
Hotch puts your trays on the coffee table and scoops the baby from your chest, leaving behind an awfully warm patch of skin. 
“Tylenols on the tray,” he says, smiling at you lovingly. “You okay?” 
“Fine. Jack’s gonna feed me.” 
To his credit, your lovely stepson offers to really feed you, but you’re not so tired now there’s food in front of you. Your stomach groans in want. 
Hotch stands looking down at you, baby somehow even smaller looking in his arms. “Need anything else?” 
You hold half of your sandwich up to him. “Eat that.” 
“I’m fine. My hands are full.” 
“I’m not asking, Aaron. Take it.” You force the sandwich on him. “We both know you only need one hand.” 
He’s cautious not to rain crumbs down on the baby. You make no such fuss, bread and lettuce falling down into your lap as you eat. Jack can’t stop giggling, “You’re not s’posed to eat like that!”
“Sorry!” you say, “I’m just so hungry!” 
“It’s okay,” he says. “Dad will vacuum you.” 
Hotch’s mouth is full to bursting, but his nod is vehement. He swallows hard. “I’ll mop you, too.”  
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ode2rin · 1 day
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new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)
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You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 
And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.
Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.
Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.
Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 
He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.
The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 
There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.
“Are we… alright?” he drawled.
What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 
He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.
Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”
“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.
“Okay, Rin.”
That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.
“Are you mad at me?” 
“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?
“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.
You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)
“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”
“You so are!” 
“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”
There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.
“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”
“Not to you, it’s not!”
A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 
Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”
“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.
With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 
“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.
“I’m not childish.”
“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”
Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.
“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.
“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 
“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.
The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 
They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.
He was now something more, something special.
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.
It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 
Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 
It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 
You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.
Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”
“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.
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note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.
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aajjks · 2 days
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Gazelle (m)
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synopsis. You’re his, only his beautiful gazelle.
pairing. gojo x fem!reader
warnings. MDNÏ. yändêrê thèmès, mátúrê ëxplïcït thèmès, ünprôtèctèd sèx, ëxplïcït sèx, scènt kïnk, hè’s sö nèèdy, kïndá sübmïssïvè gôjô, lôts óf kïssïng, präïsè kïnk, röugh fückïng, márkïng, pösèssïvè!göjö, prôfânïty, yándèrè gôjô
note. I could’ve done this so much better but…. I’m still a rookie when it comes to writing smut… hehe… also gojo loves to call you his gazelle… ifykyk… 👁️💌 ENJOY!
Gif not mine I found this on Pinterest so cr to owner.
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It’s absolutely embarrassing how needy he gets around you.
Satoru Gojo is helpless around you, his beautiful and dazzling girlfriend, Y/N.
One second around you and he feels his mind shut down, his heart pumping loud so hard that he’s convinced you’ve noticed the sound of his heartbeat.
One second around you and all he can think about is fucking you so hard that the only name you remember is his.
He is a possessive guy, and you are unfairly gorgeous.
Gojo is territorial, he knows it’s toxic but you’re too precious to him, so he tries his best to make sure you stay with him, and only him.
People are disgusting, oh he knows, especially men.
Men are predators, you are like the most beautiful gazelle, Gojo is a man after all, he knows what goes into their [his] sick brain whenever you’re around.
You’re the most valuable person in Saturo’s life.
He can’t loose you.
So he just has to keep you happy, by any means necessary.
But, there’s this one way that he loves.
Pleasing you through sex.
He can’t help but pound into your heat like a desperate man, fuck, you feel so good that his mind feels numb, only the thoughts of you surrounding his brain.
“F-Fuck, ‘toru!” You yelp,
Gojo watches your beautiful E/C eyes, your lashes flutter, your face is scrunched as your bite your lower lip, your hands feel so hot around his back, “B-Baby harder!” He moans, too lost in his moment.
God you’re so beautiful like this.
“H-Harder, princess, please dig them in deeper!” He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing your breaths as he dives deeper into your core, the pressure makes your eyes roll back from the sensation,
Your nails are scratching his back so hard, the burn feels orgasming to him, he bites your lip hard, yet gentle and it spurs you on further,
Making Gojo whimper when you clench around him so tightly.
“F-Fuck princess! C-Can’t move..” he breaks the kiss, your eyes are now wide open as you look into your boyfriend’s wild cold coloured eyes.
“F-Fuck love you so much!”
“Please help me baby.. please..” Satoru sounds pathetic right now, be he doesn’t care, peppering kisses all over your tear stained face as you smile sweetly at him.
“‘m close turo.. so fuckin’ close!” How can you sound so cute at a moment like this, your tongue is lulling out of your mouth, your body feels so soft beneath his running palms all over your skin.
You’re a piece of art, so beautiful that it drives him insane.
“M-Me too baby, fuck, gonna cum together yeah?” His heart feels crazy, you nod, “gotta release me a little baby please..” he groans.
You feel so hot, he feels so hot.
He pushes your body deeper into the mattress, you don’t object as he buries his face into your neck, his breath chilling over your sweaty neck.
“So good, S-Satoru…” you praise your boyfriend, he whined into your embrace, you know how to get him so needy, that’s why he’s so in love with you.
You’re his everything.
He licks over your sensitive skin, grazing his teeth, he bites softly.
“Yn… gonna cum!” He’s almost about to cry, you inhale a deep breath, trying your best to loosen up a little around his length.
“D-Do it toru… let it go!” You kiss his cheeks, his breath is trembling as he whined again and again into your neck.
“You’re so… fuck.. you’re so good to me.” He loves you so much, Gojo loves you so much, you’re his everything, always so considerate.
How did he get so lucky?
“Baby… yn..” he calls out your name in the most soft voice, his lips hot against your skin, “want you to cum together w’me..”
He thrusts deeper into you, making you gulp before you can respond to him, you can see the stars as he mercilessly fucks you with all his might.
It. feels. so. good.
“I-I feel close, gojo..” you confess. He knows, he’s nodding into your hair, kissing you, “I know princess, let loose.”
He’s so gentle with his words yet so rough with his movements.
You know you can’t hold yourself back anymore.
He caresses your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, you feel his hips bucking up.
You follow him, doing the same.
And before you can think of anything, you both release together.
“My gazelle… so perfect for me every single time..” he smiles, panting hard as he presses a wet kiss on your sweaty forehead,
“it’s completely okay if you get pregnant baby.”
He winks and you roll your eyes.
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If It All Fell (7)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst, PINING, Azriel's POV and he is incredibly sad
a/n: Yay here's more <3 I promise it gets happy and there's a little teaser of what that'll look like in this part. Let me know what you think pleaseee :)
Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)
~~
Azriel 
Azriel’s heart came to a thudding halt.
“What was that?” he asked softly, trying to play it off. Trying to pretend as if you hadn’t just asked him the one question he had hoped would never come. Because you were supposed to get better before it came to this. 
He had begged the Mother for any kind of reprieve.
She hadn’t listened, as Azriel had expected. 
“Mates,” you slurred, your head bobbing on his shoulder. The High Lords had exhausted you. “Helion said you… he said something about a mate. I can’t remember exactly… but no one’s told me what that is.” 
Pure adoration tore at Azriel’s chest. Your words blurred together as you sunk deeper into his arms, and Gods, did he love you. He let himself imagine that you were drunk—just for a moment. You were drunk and still his and he was carrying you home after a night at Rita’s. 
“Azriel?” 
The moment ended and panic replaced the temporary comfort that had consumed him. 
“Yes, my love?” It had slipped, a mistake fueled by his clouded mind. Azriel counted his footsteps and held his breath, but you only hummed in response, too drained to notice the endearment that had fallen with such desperation from his lips. 
“You were telling m’about mates,” you reminded him. Your arm slipped from his neck and landed in your lap. Azriel held you closer, feeling your body begin to lose its grip. 
“Of course,” he dutifully replied. “A mate is… it is a gift from the cauldron. An equal to share a bond with.”
“Like a lover?”
Azriel could hardly piece your words together with the way they tumbled out. 
That, and his stomach was twisting, reminding him of the very bond that was crying out within him. This was wrong. It was all so terribly wrong. He didn’t have to have this conversation with you last time; it had hurt you too much to even hint at the topic. 
Back then, Azriel had been so deep in anguish he couldn't keep food down, so desperate to just speak to you that his body rejected all else. 
This was somehow worse.
“Much stronger,” he whispered, pressing his nose to your temple in an act of weakness. You didn’t notice. “Our souls are linked—mates I mean. A mating bond doesn’t always lead to the pair being lovers, but if they choose to do so, it’s enhanced. It’s unexplainable, truly, having someone connected to you that you love so deeply.” 
“That sounds nice,” you mused, a melodic flow of syllables starkly contrasting the effort with which Azriel was trying to string his sentences together. 
“It is.” He gave in to his urges and looked down at you in his arms, your hair flushed against his leathers, your face soft and drowsy. “It is wonderful.” 
You cracked an eye open. Azriel had stopped walking. “Do you have one?” 
“What?” he choked out. 
“You speak as if you know the feeling well. Do you have a mate, Azriel?” 
“I—” There were no thoughts in his head, nothing but the sound of your voice and your question repeating itself like a bell tolling in a vicious pattern. “Yes,” he sputtered out. “I do, yes.” 
You smiled softly, but it was paired with a furrowed brow and a light sigh. “Good,” you nodded to yourself. “You deserve a mate.” 
Too much talking, too much thinking; your head lulled into his arm, face against his chest, and you were asleep. 
Yes, this was much worse than the last time. 
Azriel adjusted his grip and carried you back to the room you didn’t know belonged to the both of you. 
~~
The pounding in your head was your first indication that you were awake. You moved your hand to your hairline before opening your eyes, applying pressure in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure there. 
Useless. 
A small groan made its way up your throat. The night before, or whenever it was—you had no idea how long you’d been sleeping—was a jumbled mess in your mind. You remembered meeting Helion, being told you were in love with him, being told that you actually weren’t in love with him, and then he and Rhysand had entered your mind and left you as nothing more than a vegetable. 
There were other pieces too, like Azriel carrying you back to your room and talking about… mates? Yes, that sounded right—the larger-than-life, effervescent partners bestowed upon fae by the cauldron. 
And he had told you that he had one. 
That was good. Great, even. Something stirred within you, an uncomfortable feeling, but you ignored it in favor of the pain radiating across your head. Gods, why did it hurt so much? 
Helion and Rhysand had been in your mind. They were going to discuss things with you. 
You shot up far too quickly, the motion sending shooting pains up your neck. 
“What?” you heard a voice panic. “What is it? Are you hurt?” 
Another jarring look to the side and you just about passed out from the pain. You caught a glimpse of Azriel before you squeezed your eyes shut to try and manage it, his large form folded into a chair by the door that was certainly not made to accommodate wings. You lowered your head into your hands and heard the chair screech against the floor. 
“What is it, y/n?” Azriel asked, voice closer now. 
You let out a shaky sigh. “Sorry, just—it’s my head, give me a moment.” 
He didn’t speak, but the room became dark. That seemed like an impossible feat, with the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls and letting in the rays of the day court sun. But the pounding in your head receded a fraction, and you could tell it was dimmer even from behind your eyelids. 
“Does that help?” he asked, so low you could barely hear him. 
You felt his breath at your arm. 
“Yes,” you whispered back, and when you opened your eyes, Azriel was there. His wings had circled you, encasing you in a darkness that blocked out the world, his knees at the side of your bed. 
“You got up too quickly,” Azriel offered.
“I know, but I wanted to hear what the High Lords had to say about the witch and my memories and what I need to do to fix everything. Have you heard anything?”
“Very little. I’ve been here.” 
“For how long?” 
“You slept for a day and a half.” 
“And you stayed the entire time?” 
“You requested I stay by your side. You’ve been here.” 
You bit into your lip, the heavy weight of guilt loading onto your chest. Azriel flinched as if he felt it himself. “I wanted to stay,” he comforted. “It puts me at ease to… see you while we’re in this court. To know exactly where you are and who’s around you.” 
“Because of last time,” you stated, but it was a question that hung in the air. 
Azriel’s eyes tracked along the planes of your face. His hand twitched. “Yes, because of last time.” 
He looked so serious, bordering on forlorn. Despite the pain in your head and the conflicting emotions rising within you, you attempted to lessen some of the load that seemed to bogg the shadowsinger down. 
“You could have taken shifts with Cassian, you know. Or even, I don’t know, laid on the bed that’s the size of a small apartment. I was out cold the entire time—didn’t wake up once. I wouldn’t have noticed if you did,” you offered with a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. 
Azriel’s gaze dropped to your mouth, his own expression lightening. “Cassian would fall asleep immediately. And, just to let you know, you did wake up. Several times.” 
You gave him a doubtful look. “I think I would remember that.” 
The shadowsinger bit back a smile and something within you shone at the playful look in his eye. “Right, so you don’t remember waking up and practically ripping that from my body?” 
His eyes shot down to your chest, an action which you followed to find a large, unfamiliar sweater swathing your body in warmth. You looked further down at your hands, only to find the sleeves of the garment covering your palms and fingers as well. 
An incredulous laugh bubbled in your chest. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t actually rip this off of you, did I?” 
Azriel shifted his knees into a kneeling position beside you, his wings shuffling and creating a sound you had begun to find comfort in. “Well, you didn’t exactly ask politely.” 
You groaned and shoved your face back into your hands. “Gods, that’s embarrassing. It’s because I was delirious, I swear. Those damn High Lords scrambled my brain.” 
“Y/n, you have a penchant for demanding things in your sleep. Food, water, clothing, more blankets. Once you woke up to ask me for an entire roast duck and in the morning you had no recollection. You were quite aggravated that night.” 
“No, stop, I can’t take this. I am melting into a puddle of mortification and you are making it worse.” 
Azriel chuckled. “It’s alright. I’ve grown used to it over the years. It’s almost charming, really.” 
You peeked through your sweater-clad fingers. “You can’t mean that.” 
“I mean it very sincerely. When you are sick or unwell, you sleep through the entire night. When you wake up and grab the neck of my sweater like you’re robbing me, I know things are okay.” 
You groaned again, this time tilting your head back and immediately regretting the action when a pulse of pain permeated along your temples. But it wasn’t so bad anymore; Azriel and his wings made it better. 
You took a moment to gaze upon his face in the proximity. He was smiling slightly, some humor still shining in his hazel eyes. The occasional shadow made a pass along his cheeks and by his ear, whispering secrets you weren’t privy to and then coming to wind around your body as well. His hair was mused and untamed, landing in soft patterns across his forehead. 
Azriel was so beautiful it hurt. 
“Does your mate ever get upset that we are so close?” you asked, the question not even fully formed in your head before it entered the space.
The smile slipped from Azriel’s lips and you regretted your impulsivity almost instantly. 
“No,” he answered, a slight shake of his head. “I wouldn’t worry about that.” 
“Has something happened? Between the two of you?” 
“Y/n, please don’t worry yourself over—” 
“It’s just—Azriel, I know how hard all of this has been on you. When you spoke of your mate it was the first time I saw you look at peace. That’s why I’m asking.” 
“You remember what I said?” 
“All of it,” you smiled, but Azriel only looked grave. “Az—"
The shadowsinger jutted back as the familiarity left your lips. He sent his shadows out, their configuring forms covering the windows and the cracks in the doors until it was dark enough for him to remove his wings from around you. With him went the comfort of night-kissed air and warmth and all of the things that made sense in this life you had been dropped into. 
“Rhys has requested that we meet in the study to discuss findings,” Azriel relayed, clearing his throat and standing from his place on the bed. “I laid out some of your things and a servant ran a bath when you started to stir. Do you need help—” 
“I’ve got it,” you interrupted, eyes downcast, feeling as though you’d ruined something that was already painfully delicate. 
“I’ll be here if you need me. Just outside the door.” 
You believed him—you did—but something was missing. Something you couldn’t keep up with. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he was in love with someone. Mor, maybe? Or one of the sisters Cassian talked about on occasion? 
The thought of him with his mate made you nauseous. 
You shouldn’t have asked. 
~~
“A replication?” you asked, running a hand along the side of your head in an attempt to look casual about the throbbing taking place there. “So… it is like last time?” 
“Partially, but because the witch’s powers aren’t pure, she was unable to mimic what a full daemati can do. So, same outcome, fewer side effects,” Rhys offered, a calming presence across the table. “Witches often find sources to draw from because they don’t have access to their natural abilities any longer. Your source was—” 
“An opening in her mind,” Azriel concluded, expression guarded as he sat stiffly beside you. “There were remaining injuries in her mind. The witch found her weak points and used them against her.” 
Helion nodded, rounding one of the more ornate chairs and basking in the light streaming through the window. “Very astute. We thought there were no remnants of—” 
“Don’t say his name,” Azriel warned. 
“—of the attack,” Helion quickly corrected, obviously not in the mind to start an argument with the keyed-up spymaster. “But they must have been miniscule. We think she must have been an old witch, very practiced.” 
“So what do we do now?” Cassian gruffly asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the windowsill. You turned to look at him, but the sunlight casting his shadow sent your head ablaze. You quickly righted your gaze and squeezed your eyes shut to compensate. 
You felt shadows stalk beneath your feet and across the floor until they consumed the light of the window. If anyone had any comments on the shadowsinger’s act, they didn’t voice them. 
“Now,” Helion breathed out, dropping into a chair and interlacing his fingers atop the oak table. “We wait. Just like the last time, this kind of power is not something we can simply undo. We need a witch, and witches are incredibly elusive.” 
Trepidation gripped your heart, sending your lungs into a fiery descent. You were just supposed to wait? Wait and hope that maybe, possibly, they would find a witch and fix this before your life moved on without you in it?
Your breath came out in quick, uneven puffs, exacerbating the ache in your head. 
Azriel sat up in his seat, high alert and on the defensive. 
But Rhysand was quicker than his spymaster’s anger. “There is the possibility that this wears off on its own.” 
Your eyes snapped up. “Was that a possibility last time?” 
“No,” Cassian remarked, brows shot up to his hairline. “That’s why you were missing for so long and in so much pain after. You both made it clear that there was no moving whatever the daemati put in her head.” 
Helion and Rhysand shared a look, but your High Lord was the one to speak. “It was weaker this time, more permeable. We think, with time, the wall the witch attempted to replicate will break down and you’ll have everything back. She did only do this to you to flee from attack. It wasn't personal.” 
“How much time?” Azriel strained. 
Helion replied this time. “There is no way to know, shadowsinger.” 
“What about the pain? You said fewer side effects but I couldn’t even have light in my room this morning.” 
Rhysand looked sheepish, eyes darting over to the window still opaque with shadows. “Yes, well—we may have pushed you a bit too far during our assessment.” 
Cassian let out a disbelieving huff from the corner of the room. Azriel gripped the arms of his chair until they groaned. 
“So it’ll go away?” you asked, desperation trickling into your tone. 
The wood beneath Azriel’s hands splintered. 
“Yes, very soon. We can give you some tonics before you leave as well. They will help speed up the process,” Helion promised, eyeing his chair being slowly destroyed. 
In a motion that felt almost second nature, you covered the spymaster’s hand with your own, shadows wrapping around the press of your skin. It was then that you noticed the ring. Silver and unassuming, it took up residence on the ring finger of his left hand and looked like it belonged no place else. 
Our souls are linked, he had said, talking about his mate with such passion. 
You removed your hand from his. 
Azriel flexed his fingers upon your departure. 
“We were thinking,” Rhysand began after a pregnant pause that seemed to blanket the room. “With your pain, we might want to stay a few more days. Winnowing can add extra pressure to the body and flying would—” 
“No,” you were quick to dispute. “No, I want to go home. It’s lovely here, Helion, and I thank you for all you’ve done and are doing, but I want to go back to the Night Court. I want to try and live the life I’ve made for myself, even if I have no idea what I’m doing.” Another pause. “If that’s okay.” 
“Of course that’s okay,” Azriel spoke from beside you. His words sounded dull, his fingers remaining outstretched on the chair. 
“We will continue looking for the witch on our side,” Helion nodded, pushing out of his chair. He came before you then, meeting your gaze. “I cannot apologize enough for what your time in my court has cost you. I only hope that all will return to you. I have missed you, y/n.” 
And then the High Lord of Day was gone, and you had no recollection as to why he would miss you in the first place. Everyone was saying they missed you, even as you stood before them unharmed and intact. 
A harsh reality slammed into you with the departure of the High Lord. 
If you didn’t get your memories back—if there were no witches or deteriorating walls in your mind—they would continue to miss you. You would forever be a husk of your former self, never understanding the full picture of who you were. 
But that wasn’t okay with you—not at all. 
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kyunzin · 2 days
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𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞
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✰ characters ✰ 𝐇. 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢, 𝐅.𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐊. 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐮
✰ summary ✰ you miss them and ask for a video
✰tags/warnings✰ (most of this is only mentioned), nsfw, higuruma {breeding kink, degradation, blowjob, dumbification}, toji {public masturbation, degradation, breeding kink, riding}, shiu {cockwarming, praise, edging, cum stuffing, orgasm denial}
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𝐇. 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢
✰ doesn’t put much effort into it but gives you what you want anyway
“this what you wanted?”
the phone is angled up towards him as he languidly strokes his cock till its standing up with a little bit of pre coming out of the tip, looking down at the camera with a bored stare. he knew that you weren’t going to last long without him but he didn’t expect it this soon.
“I haven’t even been gone a few days and you already miss me or is it my cock that you miss?”
he continues with the same slow pace never looking away from the camera as pleasure builds up. he hast had to use his hands in a while due to you always being readily accessible. he’d become accustomed to being in your presence for too long forgetting what it’s like to not be able to fuck you.
“wish this was you instead of my hand. know you’d suck it like the good slut that you are right?”
the vision of you on your knees before him has his head dropping back as he lets out a low groan of frustration , knowing that heel have to wait a bit longer before he can feel you choking around his cock again.
“cant wait to get back home and fuck you stupid till you can only remember how to scream my name”
his volume soon picks up as he tightens his hold around his cock, letting a string curses leave his lips. it’s not long before he’s spilling into his hand painting his hand and stomach in his seed.
“what a waste, this should have been stuffed deep inside your sloppy cunt”
𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
✰ he slips inside a bathroom stall while he’s in public.
“look at what you have me doing, just to please you “
he stationed his phone on top of the toilet seat, giving you nearly a full view of his body, while he leans against the stall door. his pants are pooled around his ankles while his hard cock hangs above his briefs.
“know you’d fuck- ride me like a pro if I was sat on the seat”
he leans his head back against the door of the stall eyes closing, circling the tip of his dripping cock with his thumb as he most likely envisions the two of you in that position. he enjoyed letting you do most of the work and he found that that was the best way to hear it, letting you bounce on his cock relentlessly.
“bet you’d let me fuck you right here in this dirty stall like a cheap whore”
pulling up his tight shirt, letting his nipple piercings free as he uses his other free hand to tweak one like you would usually do. it also serves as a way to muffle his moans even though his heavy breathing would be enough to alert anyone who was paying close attention.
“really miss your tight little cunt wrapped around me”
the hand that was previously pinching his nipple now fondles his balls whilst he begins to furiously jerk his his cock letting the slick sounds resonate through the small space. he soon doubles over spilling his cum into his hand and letting some drop to the floor.
“look how much cum could have been kept inside you if only you’d been patient and waited until I got home”
𝐊. 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐮
✰ plans to punish you for being impatient
"cant even go a couple of days without me can you?"
all that's visible in the video is his face but from is laboured breaths and flushed cheeks you can tell what's going on behind the camera. even though he teases you for being desperate he feels unsatisfied without you, knowing that it would be better if you were there for him to fuck.
"these meetings are so boring. you should be here to keep me warm, kneeling under my desk, keeping me all the way down your throat. know would swallow it all like a good girl"
you can hear the slick noises of him jerking his cock in the background, the slick noises of is hand sliding up and down his thick cock that you used to struggle to take all the way, but after sitting on is cock for a long time it was if your pussy remembered the shape of his cock.
"you wanna see what you're missing out on baby?"
the camera flips and you can see is spit soaked cock, an angry shade of red at the tip nearly overflowing with pre cum. his whole and stokes up and down in slow fluid motions, in his tight grip you can see the thick veins running up the side.
"i've stopped myself from cumming so many times now. when i get back i'm gonna fuck you full and you're not allowed to cum, since all you need is my cum to be satisfied. right?"
his pace intensifies but is grip loosens as is groan starts to pick up in volume and you can hear a few curses leave his lips when he sporadically squeezes his cock. then he suddenly lets go watching as small beads of cum drip from the tip
"when i get home you better be ready for me to fill you with this, I've stored up so much for you baby"
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍
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kafkasmuses · 2 days
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KITTY KAT — art donaldson + reader : art has a tendency to show up late to your lessons. 
tags: mdni, tennis lessons, coach!art donaldson, p in v sex, fingering, art is kind of an asshole, cheating (not on reader) 
a/n: sorry to tashi… this goes out to my dear @murdrdocs
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thirty minutes ago. 
art donaldson was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, your teeth grit against each other, foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor below you. 
art was a sweet guy, sure, but his time management was beyond infuriating. it almost made you feel like he thought himself above you, like you weren’t worth his time. 
“one to talk,” you mumble to yourself, dragging your racket on the ground, “rich from the guy who was coached by his wife.” 
ahem. 
you spin around, and of course, he’s standing right there, looking the same as he always does. his dirty blonde hair was messed up and falling over his eyebrows, blue eyes, with a mix of brown, staring directly at you with an almost amused expression. 
you blink at him, once, twice. 
a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “sorry for being late.” 
it sounds condescending, like he would never actually mean it, especially not after what he heard, it felt like a sort of karma for what you were previously saying about him. 
and he knows that, of course he does, so he masks it with a sense of sweetness, one that would typically gaslight people into thinking they’ve been forgiven, but you know better. 
you’ve been coached by art for a while now, and his little habits became far too predictable. this was odd, though, you couldn’t make out the glint in his eye, especially when you mumble a, “sorry, i didn’t mean—“  
“let’s get started, yeah?” art cuts in, bitter, yet his voice still sounded like it was dipped in honeysuckle.
he whisks right past you with that same, tugged up smirk, he reeked of rich cologne and mint. 
your lips press together and you silently, albeit ashamed, nod in agreement. 
maybe silence will earn points back from your coach. 
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
silence did not earn anything. 
art served hard, hit the ball hard, it was as if he wanted to make the ball break through your racket and hit you square in the face. he clearly took your miniscule words personally, and he was testing you, trying to break you down, to see how much you could take until your bones turned soft and you felt like giving up. 
the first time you called a pause, art smiled, “don’t tell me you’re giving up.” 
“pause,” you repeat through heaved breaths, sweat sticking to your skin underneath the relentless sun. art had that same playful look in his eyes that he always did, he knew that what he was doing was working, he knew that he was getting under your skin, and as cruel as it sounds, he really did enjoy it. 
if you ever were to ask him about it, he’d just shrug and say it’s all a part of the practice, it always happens in tennis, especially professional, he’s just preparing you. but deep down, he really just wanted to say that he was doing it for those reasons but for his own personal pleasures, karma comes in many forms, but art picks the harshest form first. 
he watches you drink water with a desperate urgency, stifling his own chuckles, “you sure you’re okay?” 
“‘m fine,” you speak after gulping down the last drop, finally satisfied, “let’s keep going.” 
art’s brows furrow ever so slightly, but as soon as you’re back to being ready, he rolls the tennis ball in his hand a little, observing it, before throwing it up in the air and sending it your way. he’s so casual with every hit, despite his grunts and the way his nose scrunches whenever ball meets racket, he makes it look like it’s nothing. 
to make it even worse, he starts trying to conversate between passes, “you know—“ smack! another grunt leaves his lips, “it’s really rude to—“ smack! “speak about people behind their—“ smack! “fuck.. backs.” 
you’re so busy trying to decipher his words you almost miss the next hit, but thankfully you snap out of the trance quick enough to hit it last minute, which he chuckles at and quickly sends it back. 
smack! “‘m sorry, art, really—“ your shoes scratch against the concrete below, smack! “i was being very—“ smack! “childish, i apologize.” 
he hums, content with your apologies, but still not outwardly saying he forgives you, instead his hits start to soften, he’s less trying to kill you with the ball and now rather trying to actually play tennis. “you’re all good—“ he confirms, smack! “just make it up to me, yeah?” 
ball meets floor, his words had completely caught you off guard, and you missed your hit on the ball he sent your way. you felt almost stupid, standing there, staring at him and trying to decipher what he meant by making it up to him. 
and of course, he didn’t elaborate, he never did, he simply just picked up another ball, smiled at you, and said, “ready?” 
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
art said he forgave you, right? 
ever since that day, he’s been acting.. off. he was more focused on your figure now, not in a crude way, but in a way where he wanted you to position yourself correctly when playing. he watches you serve the ball, then his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek and he stands, “hey, hey, wait a second— your uh… your stance is wrong.” 
“it is?” it was the fifth time he’s corrected you, today, and it’s safe to say you were getting annoyed, he picked up on the bitterness of your tone as he approached you. 
“‘ts not my fault, kitty cat,” he shrugged simply, noticing the way your eyes narrow in frustration at his nickname, he only smiles. he leans in behind you, “may i?” his hands are ghosting over your arms from behind. 
“whatever helps,” you remark. 
“good,” it’s softly spoken at the shell of your ear, making you swallow thick, his fingers wrap around your wrist, other one holding your fingers grip on the racket’s handle. his grip is tight, yet gentle at the same time, veins flexing against his flesh with every movement as he helps you move into the right position. “just gotta.. do it like this,” he’s still whispering against your ear, nearly making your knees buckle. 
once he’s satisfied with your position, which is far too quick for your liking, he backs off and lets you serve the ball again. he smiles once he’s gotten what he’s wanted, “perfect.” 
eventually, after a while of hitting the ball, you decided to take a break. there was a silence between you and art, a tension you couldn’t place, you had nothing to blame it on, nothing to apologize for, and he constantly looked like he was trying to say something indescribable. 
“hey,” he starts, before tugging his bottom lip under his tongue for a mere second before continuing, “remember when i said you had to make it up to me?” 
you stare at him, curious, “yeah, of course.” 
“you know,” his hands smooth over each other, skin underneath his right eye twitching as his pupils dilate in thought, “i’ve been having a.. problem, lately.” 
“with tennis?” 
“nono,” he laughs nervously, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “it’s personal, y’know? well— not entirely, since ‘m telling you, but uh— actually, nevermind.” 
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
you and art hadn’t discussed much after the last meet, you found yourself standing in the court yet again, whilst he was no short of an hour late at this point. you wanted to ask him what his deal is lately, what his problem is, but he wasn’t even here to be questioned. it was almost ridiculous, like he was toying with you. 
“i like your skirt,” it comes out of nowhere, but it’s the same, smooth voice that art holds. 
yet again, you find yourself spinning around to meet him, he’s closer, now, clearly eyeing you— but that’s.. weird, is it not? he has a wife, he shouldn’t be complimenting your obviously short skirt, or eyeing you like that, or wishing to tell you things that he had apparently not told anyone else because it’s personal. but who are you to question his relationship? maybe he’s just.. being nice, really. 
“thank you,” you offer, nice, short, sweet. 
he rolls his shoulder, meeting your eyes, flickering his gaze to your lips for a mere second, then saying nothing and walking by. rich cologne and mint. that’s what wafts into your senses immediately, as if it was some sort of distraction from his odd behaviors. 
“do you always call people kitty cat?” you eventually ask him, it was something you’d been wondering, truly, especially since you’ve never been called that before. 
“to pretty girls with an attitude, yeah,” art says it so casually. 
“like your wife?” 
“like you.” 
art corrected you. 
he corrected you, and his correction didn’t annoy you like how they always did, it made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t decipher, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. you liked it, maybe, but isn’t that so sickening? art seems to think no big deal of his own words, as he doesn’t even react, so you try to be nonchalant about it as well. 
the whole entire test match you play with him, he has a certain glint in his eye, his grunts are louder, his shorts look tighter, he looks like he’s having some sort of reaction to playing tennis, to playing tennis with you. your tongue runs along your lips between breaks, noticing the way his eyes linger on it, the way his pupils widen at the shine of saliva over your lips with each swipe. 
at the third break, art was convinced you were doing this on purpose. 
“why do you keep doing that?” he asks as he’s walking over to grab his water bottle, right where you’re sitting on the concrete floor. you blink up at him, watching him hover the bottle near his lips and squirt the water into his mouth. did he always look this good when sweaty? 
gosh, maybe you’re just tired, maybe your mind is just foggy. 
“what?” you frown, confused. 
“licking your lips,” he speaks after swallowing the water, towering over you. his muscles were nearly bursting out of his white t-shirt with every movement, especially when he puts his water bottle down and crosses his arm, head cocking to the side. sweat causes some of his hair strands to stick to his forehead, lips puffy from how much he bites them when playing. 
“my lips are dry,” you explain, so simple. 
“yeah?” again, another smile, he had to be toying with you, “do you need some other help with that?” 
“what do you mean?” 
art hums, not explaining anything when he opens his mouth and swipes his thumb along his tongue, moving down to rub the saliva from his tongue onto your lips, memorizing the pillowy soft touch. your eyes widen, slightly, “art, this is—“ 
“not helping?” art tuts in faux disappointment, mumbling a small, ‘why don’t i..’ before he leans down further, licking his own lips and getting closer and closer until his lips are brushing against yours. 
“wrong,” you mumble out, but you sound unsure, like you don’t really believe what you just said, you don’t think this is wrong, you’ve always thought art was attractive, it was his wife that kept your crush on him at bay. you mumble against his lips, “you have a wife, art..” 
“do i?” he smirks against your lips, a near chuckle slipping out, “i must’ve forgotten.” 
“art,” it sounds like a warning, but again, you wanted nothing less than for his lips to fall against yours right now. 
“make it up to me, yeah? remember that?” his hand moves to hold your cheek, tipping your head up at him, eyes meeting yours in such close proximity, “i’ve got some marriage problems right now, so why don’t you play wife for me, hm?” 
you nod at him, ever so slightly, he clocks it immediately, and that’s his que. his eyes flutter shut, and he’s leaning in only a mere centimeter before his lips fall against yours. the kiss is soft at first, sweet, new, but then art starts taking the lead, and it quickly becomes something on the faint lines of cannibalism, he kissed you like he wanted to eat you, like he loved you. 
when he said he wanted you to play wife, he wasn’t lying. 
he pries your lips open with his own before his tongue makes it’s way inside your mouth, tasting the peppermint of your gum on your own tongue, memorizing the noisy breaths that leave your mouth and move into his. your nails are quick to run along his arms, making him pull back to speak, “hold on, kitty cat.” 
“you call your wife kitty cat?” you watch him peel off his sweaty shirt from his skin. 
he tosses the shirt to the side, exhaling a breath that showed he hated the feeling of the wet fabric on his skin, “mm, i call you kitty cat, ‘nd you’re playing my wife, so.” 
“right,” you agree, letting his cold hands brush against your skin when he takes your clothes off of you, of course looking at you for approval beforehand, which you nod to. 
“did you start wearing shorter skirts on purpose?” art questions when his fingers reach the waistband of your skirt, ever so slowly dipping underneath. 
“no, ‘course not,” you speak breathlessly, feeling his fingers move under your underwear as well until his fingertips meet your clit. you swallow thick, lashes fluttering as he starts moving his fingers in an almost cruel slowness. 
“look at me,” he whispers a simple command, free hand holding your chin and forcing you to look at him. his fingers move further down, immediately feeling how wet you are, he chuckles in surprise, “god, you’re this wet for a married man, huh?” 
“for my husband,” you mumble out, playing the part. 
“that’s right,” his middle finger circles your entrance for a second before ever so slowly dipping it inside. he watches your lips fall apart, the way your eyes get glossed over, the way your hips push up against his finger. “needy.” 
he doesn’t take long to push another finger in, letting go of your chin so he could guide your hand to his clothed cock, hard and pushing against his flimsy shorts. as soon as you start rubbing his dick through the fabric, his breath shudders slightly, as if he’s been waiting too long for like, as if he hasn’t had sexual pleasure in weeks. 
soon enough, only a mere minute or two in of foreplay, art gets antsy and he has to have his dick inside of you, he pries his fingers from your cunt and takes your skirt off next. “lay down for me, yeah?” he smiles at the fact that you do it immediately, even spreading your legs for him. 
he hisses at the feeling when his bare knees meet the concrete floor below, harsh on his skin, he tugs his shorts and boxers down ever so slightly until his cock is finally freed. you inhale sharply upon seeing it, he had a big dick. he spits in his hand, coating his dick with a grunt before he finally lines himself up with your entrance. 
“ready?” he hushes out. 
“yeah, yeah,” you’re barely able to finish the last yeah before his dick is moving into you, his nose scrunching from the tightness of your walls around him, it’s like you were purposefully squeezing his cock with an attempt to milk him dry already. 
“fuck,” he grunts out, pulling back, then moving back in, earning a pathetic moan from your lips. it sounds like music to his ears, so he keeps going, his thrusting was slow at first, gentle, kind— but just like the test matches, or the kiss, he gets hungry, and he wants more. 
his thrusts turn relentless almost immediately, maybe even like he was taking out some sorts of sexual frustrations out on your poor cunt. whimpers, whines, moans, all of those leave your lips, matching up with the grunts and the occasional whimper from his own mouth as well. 
sex was intoxicating for art, and there was something so dangerous, so forbidden about this, you weren’t really his wife, he was married to another woman, he was solely your coach. some sick part of art loves that, maybe that’s why he leans down and starts nipping at your neck, sucking at the delicate skin until maroon and blackberry starts blooming on the blank canvas. 
“art, oh my god,” you moan out, hands moving to scratch at his bare back, and maybe art should be smart enough to tell you not to leave marks, but he lets your nails dig in as his thrusts get harsher, surely drawing blood, or at least noticeable scratches. 
in fact, the feeling of you tearing into his skin only makes his orgasm come on faster, soon enough wracking his body and making his hips stutter. he keeps going though, despite the overstimulation that makes him pathetically whine softly, just until you’ve reached your own orgasm. 
he pulls out, panting, smirking down at you, “thanks, kitty cat.” 
591 notes · View notes
adriennebarnes · 3 days
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Can You Be My Boyfriend?
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Y/N is Ferrari’s social media manager and when one of the mechanics doesn’t take no for an answer, she pretends she’s dating a certain Ferrari driver.
Warning: grammatical and spelling errors cuz I don’t proofread
A/N: i just wanted to say thank you so much for the love y’all gave “Prince of Ferrari”, it means a lot to me as a new Charles Leclerc writer. I hope y’all like this one too, just like Olivia Rodrigo, I am so American,
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Y/N walked into Fred’s office.
“Mr. Vasseur, I had an idea for a new C2 challenge.” Y/N said.
“What did you have in mind, Y/N?” Fred asked.
“I was thinking we make dishes from each place we go to. Like Cuban food from Miami, Texas barbecue ribs, paella from Spain, and we have Charles and Carlos match the dishes to their flag. I personally think it would be fun, you know? Or we could do a video where the drivers tell us from which Grand Prix the photo was taken.” Y/N suggested.
“Those are very good ideas, Y/N, see if the boys are up to it, will you? Figure out when the best time is to film that.” Fred said.
“Yes, will do.” Y/N said and left his office. She walked to the living room (does the hospitality have a living room? I don’t know) to see Carlos and Charles chatting to away.
“There she is! Como has estado, hermosa?” Carlos asked Y/N, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek.
“Ha estado súper bien, un poquito cansada, pero nada que no se puede arreglar con un café.” Y/N said, her and Carlos laughed.
“I understand half of that.” Charles said.
“Now you know how I feel when you speak French.” Y/N said. “Anyway, as your social media manager, I had an idea for an upcoming challenge, we have to make the most of this season.” Y/N said.
“We hear you, mon ange, what’s the idea?” Charles asked.
“Can you guys guess what Grand Prix this is based off the picture?” Y/N asked, showing them a picture on her phone.
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“That’s when I won in Monza.” Charles answered.
“Good, this is your challenge, guessing Grand Prixs based off a photo.” Y/N said putting her phone away. “It’s not much, but it’s different from what you guys have done in the past. You could also match dishes to their countries.” Y/N said.
“Sounds like a fun challenge.” Carlos said.
“Good to hear. I’m gonna be with the photographer, he’s taking photos of the new livery and I need to approve them before I post them on Instagram. See ya later, okay?” Y/N said, stepping into the garage where she sees the photographer looking over the photos on his camera.
“Y/N! You’re here, tell me what you think, and be brutally honest. Do you think they came out to blurry?” The photographer, Daniel, asked. Y/N started looking them over.
“They look great, honestly, it matches Ferrari’s instagram feed, you did a good job. Can you upload them to the computer?” Y/N asked and Daniel said that he could. He left Y/N alone on the garage and that’s when one of the mechanics, Ruggero, approached her.
“Sei bellissima, a more mío.” Ruggero told her. Y/N rolled her eyes,
“Grazie, Rugge, what do you want?” Y/N asked.
“You are very hostile towards me, you know? I might be able to forgive you if you go out with me.” Ruggero said.
“Not gonna happen, Rugge, aren’t you tired of getting rejected?” Y/N asked.
“I bounce back. Come on, amore, why won’t you let me take you out? You think you’re too good for me?” Ruggero asked.
“What are you talking about? Oh my god, I don’t think I’m too good for you, where the hell did you get that from?” Y/N asked, so confused at the turn this conversation took.
“Well that’s the only thing I could think of, you come from the states, you clearly think you’re better than Europeans.” Ruggero said and Y/N had enough of this nonsense.
“I have a boyfriend! Que pesado eres, me cae.” Y/N said.
“Really, who’s the boyfriend?” Ruggero asked. Y/N saw Charles walking into the garage.
“Muñeco, there you are!” Y/N said loudly, walking up to Charles and kissed him. Charles widened his eyes in shock but kissed her back and they both pulled away, Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest and Charles rubbed her back.
“Congratulations, does Fred know?” Ruggero asked.
“It’s private right now, we’re just seeing how this goes.” Y/N replied and as soon as Ruggero left, Y/N pulled away from Charles. “I am so sorry! Ruggero wouldn’t leave me alone so I had to tell him I had a boyfriend and honestly whoever walked through that door was going to be the victim of my lie but I am glad it’s you and not Carlos, mainly because Ruggero knows Rebecca is dating him.” Y/N explained quickly but Charles was still distracted, thinking about the kiss Y/N gave him.
“I’m sorry, what?” Charles asked.
“Can you be my boyfriend?” Y/N asked.
“I Don’t think we could pull this off, Y/N. We work together.” Charles said.
“We would only have to pretend we’re dating around Ruggero, no one else has to know, I promise.” Y/N said.
“Okay fine.” Charles said, him and Y/N were walking back to the main area (I don’t know how this works) and Carlos was standing next to Fred and Ruggero with a smile.
“Congratulations, cabrón,” Carlos told charles, hugging him. “You two are adorable.” Charles turned to look at Y/N with a look that said ‘no one will know, yeah right’
“I didn’t know you two were dating.” Fred commented.
“It’s still new.” Charles replied, putting his arm around Y/N.
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with the social media posts, it should be fine.” Fred said before walking away. Ruggero smiled before going back to the garage.
“Now I know why you always called her ‘mon ange’, que coqueto saliste, eh charles.” Carlos said, leaving Y/N and Charles alone, Y/N pulled away to face Charles.
“Well so much for that plan, I really am sorry, Charles.” Y/N said.
“You know what? It’s alright, it’s okay, pretending around here should be easy enough, this can’t get worse, right?” Charles asked.
“I Don’t think it can. How about I buy you lunch for getting you into this situation? I swear I did not mean for this to happen.” Y/N said.
“Yeah, sure let’s get lunch, where do you want to go?” Charles asked.
“Well since this lunch is my treat, you choose where we should go.” Y/N said. Charles and Y/N walked to the parking lot together and Y/N was walking towards her car when Charles grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards his car. “Seriously?”
“Well what kind of boyfriend would I be if we went to lunch in different cars?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, makes sense, Ruggero is watching through the window too, let’s go.” Y/N said. Charles opened the passenger door and Y/N got in, he close the door behind her, ever there gentleman, and he got into the driver seat. He turned on the car, and gave Y/N his phone so she can choose the music.
They arrived at the restaurant and like always, there were fans recording Charles and Y/N in the car, leaving the car, eating at the restaurant, talking, laughing, within the hour, Charles and Y/N were trending on Instagram, Twitter (X), and TikTok. As they waited for the check, Y/N was scrolling on TikTok when she found a video of her and Charles in the car.
“Charles, i think our ‘relationship’ went public.” Y/N said, showing him her phone. Charles’s eyes widened.
“Cant say I’m not surprised, I just thought videos wouldn’t be posted until later, you know?” Charles said and Y/N put her phone away.
“We haven’t even been ‘dating’ two hours and now everyone knows. You have no idea how sorry I am, I feel so bad for dragging you into this.” Y/N said.
“None of this wouldn’t have happened if Ruggero understood the word ‘no’ so you are fine, I’m glad I was able to help. But what was that thing you called me? ‘Muñeco’? Why did you call me that?” Charles asked.
“So ‘muñeco’ means ‘doll’, you have a pretty face, everyone says you’re good looking, you know you’re good looking. So muñeco just suits you, okay, especially with those dimples.” Y/N said, Charles smirked a little.
“You think I have a pretty face?” Charles asked teasingly.
“Great, I boosted your ego, like your head wasn’t big enough already. You literally said in one of those C2 challenges when Carlos had your photo that if you were a woman, you would be in love with yourself.” Y/N said. The waiter came in with the check and Y/N was going to take it but Charles was faster. “Dude, I told you I was gonna pay.”
“It would look good if you paid, there are cameras everywhere apparently.” Charles said, placing his credit card with the check. The waiter took the check.
“Then I’ll Apple Pay you. You gonna train today?” Y/N asked.
“Yes actually, come with me? You could post it to my story.” Charles asked. The waiter came back with Charles’s card.
“Yeah, I can do that. But we gotta go to Scuderia Ferrari for my car.” Y/N said, getting up from the table, Charles getting up as well.
“I think it can stay there overnight.” Charles said.
“You want me to spend the entire day with you? You’re insane.” Y/N commented as they were leaving the restaurant.
“Maybe, but it is to keep up appearances.” Charles said.
“I guess, but how long do we say we’ve been dating?” Y/N asked, getting into Charles’s car, he does the same.
“4 months seems good, don’t you think?” Charles asked.
“I guess that’s plausible.” Y/N said, Charles starts the car and drives off.
“Do you miss New York?” Charles asked.
“What do you mean?” Y/N asked.
“You travel a lot with us and you moved to Monaco for work, but do you ever miss New York? Your family? I know I miss my family when I’m away for races.” Charles said.
“I miss the food in New York, I can’t get decent tacos al pastor in Monaco, I gotta wait til the Mexican Grand Prix for them.” Y/N stated. “But yeah, I do miss New York.”
“You should ask for vacation time so you could go.” Charles said.
“I Don’t think they’ll give it to me, but thanks.” Y/N said.
For a week, Y/N and Charles have been spotted together everywhere, at races obviously, with Joris, Andrea, Doni, and Victoria, even with Charles’s family. Right now Y/N was with Charles at a club in Monaco. Y/N was at a table with Charles was at the bar getting drinks. Y/N noticed a girl flirting with Charles, touching his hand, before he pulled away with two drinks for him and Y/N.
“Charles, can we talk for a second?” Y/N asked.
“Sure, what’s on your mind, mon ange?” Charles asked, the nickname still causing butterflies in Y/N’s stomach.
“If you wanted to hook up with that girl, you can. I don’t want to have you tied down for a fake relationship.” Y/N said.
“I wasn’t interested in her at all, you know.” Charles commented.
“Really? What happens when the next girl that hits on you is more your type? I don’t want to hold you back, we are friends after all.” Y/N said.
“I have a confession to make.” Charles said, Y/N nodded her head for Charles to continue. “I’ve liked you for a while. Before you kissed me, it was a little crush, I thought it would have went away, but being with you this past week made my crush grow stronger. You don’t have to feel the same way, I just wanted to get this off my chest.” Y/N was shocked. Charles usually went for Instagram models, but he actually likes her, this was her dream come true.
“I’ve liked you for a while too, I just never thought you would see me that way.” Y/N said.
“I’m going to kiss you right now, okay?” Charles whispered, getting closer to Y/N, looking at her lips then back into her eyes, Y/N nodded, leaning in until their lips touched. It was a soft, gentle kiss, until Charles gained more confidence to do more. They pulled away. “Will you be my girlfriend? For real, this time?” Charles asked.
“Yes I will.” Y/N responded, they kissed again.
The End
Was this good? I think it was good, the pacing is weird, but I had no idea where this was going, just saying. Was it just as good as “prince of Ferrari”? Probably not, but I hope y’all liked it, should I keep writing Charles Leclerc fanfics?
452 notes · View notes
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You Drew Stars Around My Scars
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel and Reader meet one day and the connection is instantaneous. Azriel becomes worried though, when Reader starts showing up late to their dates more consistently. When the truth comes out, they need to figure out how to keep moving forward.
Based on this request! Thank you for sending it in, I hope you like it! 🩷
Word Count: 3.8k
The market was bustling today and Azriel cringed slightly, pulling his wings in even tighter behind him. He had no idea why Amren had insisted that he be the one to pick up the items she needed for her new project. Perhaps because she knew that he would be the least likely to complain. 
He was approaching the stall that carried what Amren needed when his gaze snagged on someone at a neighboring one and he stopped dead in his tracks, causing the people around him to curse and move around him, irritated.
Azriel barely heard it though, his attention fully on you. You had a simple dress on, but it accentuated your curves beautifully, your hair was loose, falling down your back in ringlets. The way you moved was graceful as you picked up an item to inspect. 
But your smile as you talked to the owner of the stall, the way it lit up your face with such kindness… that is what made Azriel’s knees feel like they were about to give out.
He longed to approach you, but by the time that he had come to his senses enough to start moving, you too had moved, working your way through the market. It was so crowded that he lost track of you. 
Crestfallen, he went back to the stall and got the supplies for Amren. 
---
Days later, Azriel still could not get you out of his mind. That damn smile haunted his dreams and his every waking moment. 
So much so, that at the earliest opportunity, he went back to the market, his eyes raking the crowd for any sign of you. He seriously contemplated flying up to a rooftop for a better angle, but that would probably be frowned upon. 
He perused the market, feeling a bit foolish. The Night Court’s spymaster, reduced to wandering around the market on his day off like a lost puppy in hopes of finding a woman he didn’t even know.
His spirits lifted dramatically though, when he saw you. You were perusing a stall, inspecting a jar with a shiny liquid inside. 
Azriel didn’t let himself hesitate this time, dodging people milling about as he strode for you. Eventually, he appeared at your side, and you looked up at him, so surprised to suddenly see a large, looming male next to you, that you dropped the jar that you were holding.
Smoothly, he caught it before it hit the ground and offered it to you. Your eyes sparked with recognition as you studied him: the wings, the Illyrian clothing, the shadows twirling around his biceps. 
Your fingers brushed his as you took the jar back from him and you murmured, “Thank you.”
He nodded, offering you a faint smile, not sure what to say. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.
“You’re the High Lord’s shadowsinger,” you said, looking up at him, sounding a little breathless.
“I am. But most people just call me Azriel,” he said, a note of humor edging his voice.
That smile you had offered the others before was now turned on him, and he felt as if the ground was swaying underneath him. You offered him your name, before saying, “I feel a bit like I’m meeting a celebrity.”
Azriel could feel slight heat in his cheeks, and tried to maintain the neutral expression he nearly always wore. He waved his hand dismissively, “Trust me, I’m not. Cassian is more of the celebrity. I mostly blend into the shadows.”
You tilted your head, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, studying the hard line of his jaw, his hazel eyes, the curve of his mouth. “That’s a shame,” you said, a little wistfully.
Azriel’s heart was thundering now. “Do you want to get dinner?” 
Your smile widened. “I think I can make that happen. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed. 
You picked the restaurant and the time, and just like that, Azriel had a date.
---
The date was, in his opinion, nothing short of amazing. 
He had arrived a bit early to dinner, and you waltzed up to the restaurant exactly on time, looking like a vision. Part of your hair was braided around your head like a crown, but part was still flowing down over your shoulders, curled. Your dress hugged the curve of your waist, the hem landing midway down your shin, perfect for the summer. 
You beamed as you approached him, and Azriel had to concentrate to keep his breathing steady. The two of you were seated outside, watching the sun set over the river. 
The conversation was easy. You kept it light and playful, grazing your hand against his bicep every once in a while when you laughed, the sound bright and beautiful.
Flirting, he realized. You were flirting with him. Laughing with him. Making him laugh.
Mother, when was the last time he had felt like this?
Had he ever felt like this?
After dinner ended, you stood up and gently took his hand in yours, tugging lightly so he stood up too, towering over you. “Do you want to take a walk?” you asked, your eyes sparkling under the stars that were out by then. 
“Lead the way,” he said, one side of his mouth turning up into a smile.
You led him to the artists’ quarter, the lights vibrant against the night. He watched as your eyes lit up at the site, marveling at all the artwork, the people milling about. 
“Oh, look!” you exclaimed, excitedly pulling him to a painting of the mountains surrounding Velaris. “It’s beautiful,” you told the painter, who nodded in thanks, smiling.
Azriel couldn’t help but stare as you took in the painting, your eyes alight. 
“Are you a painter?” he asked.
“I try to be,” you grinned at him. “I’m not very good.”
Before he could respond, another painting caught your eye and you gasped, tugging on his hand, leading him through the crowd. Azriel laughed, and you turned back to smile at him, your whole face lighting up. His heart swelled.
On and on you went, his lifeboat pulling him through the sea of artists. He could have gone on like that forever, he thought. 
You were about to pull him to another painting when you suddenly turned to him, flushed. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I?”
Azriel shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.”
You smiled, seeming shy all of a sudden. “It’s late,” you said. “I should probably head back.” 
“Can I walk you home?”
Your smile grew and you nodded your head for him to follow. Your arms brushed as you walked, taking in the night air. 
It was a short walk to your house, and you stopped before the door and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Azriel. Tonight was… amazing.”
Azriel couldn’t help but smile back at you. “It was.”
You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek lightly before turning to the door, and Azriel said your name, stopping you before you could open it. “Can I see you again?”
You beamed. “Meet me by the Rainbow in two days?”
Smirking, Azriel said, “Absolutely.”
---
Azriel could hardly focus on anything else while he waited to see you again. His friends absolutely knew something was up with him, but did not pester him about it. Yet. 
Two days after the initial date, Azriel was waiting in the Rainbow, where you had told him you wanted to meet. 
He waited. And waited.
Trying to stomp down his growing anxiety that you wouldn’t show, he gazed at the art around him. You had been right on time to your first date. Had you changed your mind about him?
He was about to walk through the artists’ quarter, wondering if he had not remembered correctly where you wanted to meet, when you finally arrived, your cheeks flushed, but you looked beautiful as ever. 
“I’m so sorry,” you said, a little breathless. “Something came up -- it’s hard to explain. I swear I tried to be on time.” 
Azriel was just glad that you had come. “It’s alright,” he smiled reassuringly. 
Your eyes twinkled under the stars, relieved. “Thank you.”
His smile widened and he lightly squeezed your upper arm, trying to soothe you. 
You smiled slowly and arched an eyebrow, mischief written all over your face. “So, I had an idea.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
Laughing, you said, “Let’s go dancing.”
Azriel’s smile dropped. You laughed even more. “Dancing,” he repeated. 
“Dancing,” you grinned.
“I can’t dance.” 
“Oh, please. Everyone can dance.” 
“Not me,” Azriel said, smiling despite himself.
“Please,” she murmured, taking a step closer to him and looking up at him from under her lashes. “For me?”
Azriel sighed, raking a hand through his hair. You knew you already had him wrapped around his little finger. “Fine.”
You squealed with delight, taking his hand in yours and walking in the direction of the Velaris night clubs. Azriel tried to focus on the positives: your soft hand in his, how happy you were, how your hair bounced as you walked.
By the time you got to the nightclub, Azriel’s felt like his heart was in his throat. He really did not dance.
But you strode right in, glancing back at him with the biggest smile on your face. You led him right into the middle of the crowd of people pulsing with the music. 
He stood still and watched as you moved your hips, your arms up above your head, twirling around like you didn’t have a care in the world. I could easily fall in love with this woman, he thought. Easily.
You turned back to him and laughed brightly, placing your hands on his hips, trying to make them move. He didn’t budge, which made you laugh even more. “Come on, shadowsinger. Live a little!”
He wanted to, if only to make you happy, but he couldn’t focus on anything but your hands on him and that smile that knocked the breath out of his lungs.
Studying him for a moment, you said over the music, “Okay, I see we need to try a different tactic,” you said, taking his hand in yours and leading him to the edge of the dance floor, where it was less crowded. 
You stepped right up to him then, so your bodies were barely an inch away. You took both of his hands and settled them on your hips, then placed your hands on his shoulders. 
“Don’t think so much, just move,” you said, your voice light and teasing. 
He towered over you, watching as you moved your hips, lightly pushing and pulling on his shoulders so he would move with you. It took nearly a full song, but eventually his body relaxed, letting himself be guided by you.
“There you go,” you grinned. 
Suddenly, the song slowed significantly, and you looked up at him, becoming slightly shy again. 
He gazed down at you, smiling faintly as he pulled you in closer to him, keeping one hand at your waist and taking one of your hands in his. 
Azriel swore he saw your breath catch as you studied his face, eyes slightly wide. Azriel tightened his grip on you slightly when your eyes dipped to his mouth and lingered there. 
Holding his breath, he leaned in slowly, stopping a breath away from your lips, giving you a moment to back up if you wanted to. But, you surged forward, connecting your mouth with his. 
He smiled into the kiss, bringing a scarred hand up to gently cup your cheek. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, and as the music swelled to a crescendo, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You gasped into his mouth, bending your knees as he held you in the air. 
Gently, he set you down a few moments later, and when he pulled back, you were smiling, your cheeks dusted red. 
“That might have been the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me,” you said, your tone teasing, but your eyes alight. 
“Me too,” Azriel murmured, unable to tear his gaze away from your beautiful face. 
The two of you spent hours together, and Azriel found himself unable to keep his hands off you. You seemed the same way, always placing a hand on his arm, on his shoulder, while he rested his hand on your hips, the small of your back, or held your hand in his. 
For hours, he watched you dance, and willed his body to move with you, only because your eyes shined, your smile bright, when he did so.
At the end of the night, he walked you home once again, this time pulling you in by the waist and kissing you until you were breathless, twining his hand into your soft hair, your hands on his face.
---
Weeks passed, and the two of you kept meeting as often as your schedules would allow. 
Azriel would have been on cloud nine… except that he was starting to have his doubts. When the two of you were together, it was amazing, a connection and energy that he had never felt with anybody before. In the privacy of his own mind, he was even willing to concede that he had absolutely fallen for you.
But he couldn’t pretend that everything was perfect. You had been late to nearly every date. He would always be unnerved waiting for you, thinking that this would be the time that you would leave him hanging, never to be heard from again. But then, you would come, always breathless, like you had rushed to get there, and would apologize profusely, but never giving an explanation. Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if you were not as interested in him as he was in you.
He considered talking to Cassian or Rhys about it, but had a suspicion that they would not be very helpful.
So eventually, he decided just to talk to you about it. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to keep seeing him if you didn’t want to.
There was clearly movement in your house as he approached. He took a deep breath before knocking.
Your eyes were wide in surprise, but not unhappy, when you opened the door. “Azriel,” you smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, quietly. 
You opened your mouth to respond, but before anything could come out, a little boy, a toddler came running to the door, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Azriel hulking in the doorway. 
The boy gaped at Azriel, his mouth hanging open in shock, before turning to you, “Mom! That’s the shadowsinger!” he squealed, running up to said shadowsinger and wrapping his tiny arms around Azriel’s legs, his head not even meeting Azriel’s knees. The boy looked up at Azriel in awe, “you are so cool.”
Azriel’s head spun, trying to process the information in front of him, but he couldn’t focus over the feeling of his heart absolutely melting as he gazed at this boy, full of such joy. He patted the boy’s back, smiling. “You think so?”
He nodded vigorously, his curly hair that matched his mother’s flicking over his eyes. “I wish I could be a spy.”
Azriel grinned. “I can teach you, if your mom says it’s okay.”
The boy gasped, and Azriel looked at you for the first time since your son had made himself known. You looked like you were about to cry, your hands clasped in front of you. He couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not.
“Honey, why don’t you go play for a little bit?” you said, your voice slightly shaky, steering your son into the other room. “Mom has to talk to Mr. Shadowsinger about grownup stuff for a little bit.”
He pouted a bit, but did as he was told, reluctantly untangling himself from Azriel and toddling into the next room.
You sighed when you were alone with Azriel, searching his face.
“This is why you’ve been late,” Azriel said, his voice thick with emotion.
You nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Azriel took your hand in his, trying to ground himself. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Your eyes filled with tears, and Azriel’s heart cracked. “Most males aren’t interested in raising someone else’s kid. And I liked you… I was too scared to lose you.”
There was no breath in Azriel’s lungs. He ached for you, for what you had no doubt been through with other males who you tried to date. He wanted to rip them to shreds. Slowly, he leaned down, gently kissing each tear away. 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not unless you want me to.” 
You sniffed, looking up at him through damp lashes. “I don’t want you to.”
Azriel smiled softly. “Good,” he murmured, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head.
You stayed like that for a while, holding each other, before he asked, “What’s his name?”
“Jax.”
“Do you think Jax has it in him to be a spymaster?”
You laughed against his chest, and Azriel smiled into your hair. “I think he can be whatever he wants to be.”
He pulled back to look at you, tilting his face down to meet your eye. “Do you want me in his life? If it’s too soon, that’s okay. But I would love to get to know him, eventually.”
That beautiful smile shone on your face as you said, “I would love that.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Azriel taught Jax how to be a spy. They ran around the house, ducking behind furniture, following invisible enemies. 
Azriel glanced at you periodically, reveling in the bright smile on your face, your eyes shining. 
---
Jax became an important fixture in Azriel’s life, often accompanying your dates around Velaris. One day, Azriel had recruited Feyre to help get you all into a painting class for all ages. 
You grinned as Azriel led you and Jax into the studio set up with paints and easels. There were a few other families there, setting up their work stations. 
“Azriel, will you make a painting with me?” Jax asked, his green eyes wide as he looked up at Az.
“Are you sure you don’t want to make your own?” Azriel asked.
Jaz nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, taking Azriel’s hand and leading him to the paint station to pick out colors. Jax chose color after color, handing them all to Azriel, who was grinning, trying to keep hold of all the paints. 
You beamed, your heart full as you watched your son and Azriel together, laughing as they painted together. The easel was set up for Jax to reach it, so Az was sitting on the floor in order to reach it whenever Jax demanded that he contribute to their painting. 
Azriel was smiling and laughing with the boy, adding in elementary looking trees and bushes wherever Jax instructed him. 
By the end, they had a painting that looked very much like a toddler made it. It was nearly impossible to tell who had painted what: Jax or Azriel. 
You laughed as Azriel showed it off to you with a flourish, Jax excitedly bouncing on his toes. “Mom, can we hang this up at home?”
“Of course we can,” you grinned, your heart swelling at Azriel’s soft, loving smile.
Azriel came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at your painting while Jaz was busy admiring his own painting. 
“I thought you said you weren’t very good,” Azriel murmured, his heart swelling as he took in the painting that you had created.
It was of that day, of Azriel and Jax painting together. Jax happily paints while Azriel sits on the floor, grinning at him, holding the palette of paint up for Jax to use.
“Do you like it?” you said quietly. 
“I love it,” he said, nuzzling your neck. “I love you.”
He felt you stiffen beneath his fingers and froze. He had just realized that was the first time he had told you. 
You twisted in his arms, turning to face him, your eyes shining. “I love you too, Az.”
Azriel’s knees nearly buckled with relief. He gave you a quick, sweet kiss, wishing he wasn’t in public. 
---
By Starfall, the three of you were really starting to feel like a family, and Azriel had never been happier. Cassian and Rhys teased him about it relentlessly, but he knew it was because they were happy for their brother who had finally found happiness like they had.
Azriel kept by your side, his hand on the small of your back as you navigated the crowded balcony on the House of Wind, Jax holding onto your hand. 
The three of you had spent the beginning of the celebration with the rest of Azriel’s family, and even though they had met before, Jax remained completely enamored with Feyre, Rhysand and Cassian, asking them a million questions about being the High Lady, High Lord, and the commander of armies, respectfully. The three just laughed, going along with it until Azriel deemed it was time to give his brothers and his High Lady a break. 
The three of you stood together, holding hands, looking to the sky as the music started and the spirits started to move across the sky, slowly at first, and then thousands of them, shooting across the world like shooting stars. 
Jax watched awestruck for a few minutes before he noticed that there were children playing a game on the far side of the balcony, and he looked to you excitedly, running over to them after you had nodded.
“Stay where we can see you!” Azriel called after him.
You turned to Azriel, hugging his waist, gazing up into his eyes lovingly. 
“What?” Azriel smiled, sliding his hand down your back, making you shiver.
“I’ve just never been this happy,” you murmured.
“I haven’t either,” Azriel said softly, leaning down to kiss you. 
Azriel pulled your body into his then, leading you into a slow, romantic dance underneath the falling stars. 
“Happy Starfall,” he said, gazing down at you with all the love in the world.
“Happy Starfall, Az,” you said.
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hearts4chriss · 3 days
Text
𝑹𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉!𝑫𝒐𝒎 𝑩𝑭!𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 + 𝑺𝒖𝒃!𝑷𝒐𝒄 𝑮𝑭
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𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡!𝐃𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐅!𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐒𝐮𝐛!𝐏𝐨𝐜 𝐆𝐅
There’s no doubt this man is ROUGHHH when having sex.
He’s overprotective of you especially when you guys are out and you’re wearing something short and tight.
he hates when you tease, which normally results in him fucking ur brains out.
His favourite thing to do to you when you’ve either, pissed him off, teased him or didn’t do what he asked is edge you.
He gets off watching you beg to cum as he pounding into you with no mercy.
“N-no Chris! Please l-let me cum!”. You’d cry out, already shaking from the previous times he’s edged you.
“Shouldn’t have been acting like a little slut today and you would’ve cum 4 times already”. He groans deep in ur ear continuing to ruin you.
Definitely fucks you in the bathroom at the party and leaves you with cum dripping down your leg.
Leaves you shaking every time, he won’t stop until he feels you either learned ur lesson or he made you feel good.
Loves the sound ur ass makes when he’s fucking you from behind, he’s always touching it, Grabbing it, slapping it all of the above that man loves your ass
Will leave you marked up in hickeys all over ur thighs, tits, inner thighs, as a reminder of whose girl you are incase you forget.
Definitely chokes you while your in missionary / fucking you from behind.
Pulls ur hair but neverrrr where he hurts you
Made sure to establish a safe word
Degrading is his favourite thing, he loves it.
“Fuck- such a little slut, keep making those noises for me yeah?”.
“God ur pathetic, about to cum already?”.
Don’t even get started on dumification.
“Such a dumb whore, fucked out on my cock”.
“Aww look at you, all fucked out from how good I’m making you feel”.
“Wow, I thought you couldn’t get any louder, god you whore”. He’d say this while also trying not to moan because as much he’d never admit it, he loved how you wrapped around him perfectly.
he’d always be quick to remind you who you belong to Like THATS HIS GIRL ( he’s also hella jealous so he’d take you laughing at one of matts jokes, than he’d walk in and thinks your flirting. )
“Your mine right? Or should I call Matt? Seemed to be all over him”.
“can. He. Fuck. Better. Than. Me?”. He’d say all this while thrusting harder in between each word.
“Yeah keep moaning my name baby, let all the neighbours know whose girl you are”.
BIG BREEDING KINK LOVES CUMMING INSIDE YOU
“fuck ma- gonna stuff you with my cum- you’d like that wouldn’t you?”.
“gonna fill your pretty pussy up- shit-“.
The sight of your juices mixed with his could get him off any day
Has a hidden photo album of pictures of you post sex and videos of you screaming his name. Don’t even get me started on the my eyes only.
Loves cockwarming, typically after aftercare he always wants to be close to you.
Despite how rough he is during sex, that man ALWAYS takes care of you after.
Right after you both finish after hell, how many rounds? He’s quick to check on you and sometimes worried he went too far.
“hey baby, you okay? Was it too much?”.
“shh i got you, gonna take care of you now ok?”.
“You did so good for me pretty girl”.
He immediately run you a warm bath with your favourite bath bombs.
He’d clean you up first because he can wait, he’d rather have you feel better than him.
You’re super sensitive after sex so he always takes his time, staring on ur inner thighs first.
“Let me know when it’s too much ok?”.
Despite you secretly loving the rough sex, and you both established that, he would always reassure you.
“Your so pretty yk that?”. He would whisper while helping you in the bath.
“my girl, how’d i get so lucky”.
“Oh and ur definitely not a whore or s-“.
“Chris, baby, I’m okay don’t worry about it”. You’d giggle tiredly playing with the soap.
“I know but ur covered in hickeys like everywhere”. He’d scratch his head.
“Chris please ur back has seen better days”.
He’d go change the sheets to fresh clean ones fresh in the dryer.
Typically you’d want to sleep after so he played those calm noises you like and a glass of water.
right after you dried off with the help of him as you could still barley process what happened, you’d sleep in a shirt of his and a pair of panties.
You’d fall asleep once immediately in the warmth of his arms.
“There you go, sleep well baby”.
tag list ☆
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mochiwrites · 2 days
Text
Jellie tends to be a very curious cat, sometimes. She likes poking her nose into places it doesn’t belong, or snatching things from Scar and Grian when they catch her interest.
Maybe Scar should’ve known better, then.
He sits in his and Grian’s bedroom (it’s been theirs pretty much after the second month Scar moved in), a ring in his hands. The metal is cool against his palm, a soft rose gold. The band isn’t anything special, a simple engraving in it. Scar knew Grian would throw a fit if he found out Scar spent so many diamonds on the ring. So he tried to get something reasonable.
He can spoil Grian with the actual ring.
If he says yes, that is. Just the thought makes a shiver run of Scar’s spine. Is he really doing this? He and Grian have only been together for a year and a half, but Scar just knows that he’s the one. There isn’t any doubt in his mind about it. But does Grian feel the same?
Jellie jumps up on the bed next to Scar, meowing at him. She brushes her head against his arm as she settles beside him, and Scar smiles. “Well hello there beautiful lady. Are we requesting pets?” he teases as he brushes a hand through her fur. She curls up close to him, leaning into his touch. Scar sighs softly, scratching behind her ear. “I don’t know Jellie… do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks quietly. She stares blankly up at him. “Yeah okay, fair enough.”
Past their bedroom, the front door opens and shuts. “Scar, I’m home!”
Scar jumps up, disturbing a content Jellie. He shoots her an apologetic look, giving her one last pet. But the most crucial piece?
He makes the mistake of leaving the engagement ring on the bed.
As Scar walks out the room to greet his boyfriend, Jellie takes to making their bed her own. Yet as she moves, the shiny ring catches her attention. She tilts her head, curious about the shiny object. Sticking a paw out, she swats it. Again. And again. And again. Until the ring tips over the side of the bed, dropping to the floor with a ‘plop.’
Her pupils widen in that playful way they tend to do, wiggling before she pounces.
Oblivious to what his cat is doing, Scar is sweeping his boyfriend into a hug. “How was work?” he questions, looking down at Grian with a curious yet soft gaze.
“Tiring,” Grian huffs, content to melt into Scar’s grasp. He lifts his arms, returning the embrace as he does so. “I had to remake the blueprint at least five times until the guy was happy with it.”
Scar winces, “Eesh. Now I’m kind of glad he only wanted you to meet with him.”
Grian glowers at him in return, though the look is entirely playful. “Yeah, yeah.” He leans up, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss. “Consider yourself lucky.”
“I think I will, thank you.” Scar grins, stealing a kiss. “How does a movie and dinner sound?” He bumps their noses together as he smiles.
“Let me think about it,” Grian hums, booping his nose against Scar’s as he does so. “As long as there’s ice cream after.”
Scar lets out an affronted gasp, pulling away. “I’m offended you think there wouldn’t be ice cream after all!” he says as he walks toward the kitchen. “Go sit! I’ll grab the takeout leftovers.”
Laughing, Grian takes his shoes off and heads over into their living room. He finds Jellie there, playing with something caught between her paws. He fondly shakes his head at her, “What do you have now, miss?”
Jellie looks up at him with a meow as she swats at whatever it is she’s deemed her new toy, chasing at it. However, said mystery object knocks into Grian’s foot, and he gets it first.
Leaning down, Grian picks up what appears to be a rose gold ring. He inspects it in his hand, eyebrows knit together as he does. “Where did this come from?” He blinks at it, looking down at Jellie. “Did you rob someone?”
Jellie sits in front of him, slowly blinking. The perfect picture of innocence.
Shaking his head with a faint laugh, Grian looks at the ring again. His heart skips a beat as he really takes in the detail of it. He certainly didn’t buy it. Did Scar? And if he did then….
Heart a little louder, he turns to his boyfriend. “Hey, Scar?”
“Yes, love of my life?”
“Any clue what this is?”
Scar walks into the living room, the soft crackles of a furnace behind him. He pauses when he notices what Grian is holding in his hand. His eyes go wide, looking a little pale. To the side of Grian, he spots the movement of Jellie’s tail, and looks directly at her. “Traitor,” he mutters.
“Scar?” Grian questions, confused and… maybe a bit nervous.
“Haha uh… any chance we can forget this all happened and revisit it like. Next month?” Scar weakly chuckles, the epitome of nerves as he looks at Grian.
“What’s going on?” Grian’s brows furrow in confusion, a bit of concern leaking into his expression.
Scar knows trying to lie about it is practically pointless. Grian is too curious and too stubborn to let it go. And now that he’s seen the ring… Scar takes in a shaky breath. “Void, alright. Guess we’re doing this.”
He walks over to Grian, “May I?” He gestures for the ring, and Grian slowly nods. He hands the ring over to Scar, who accepts it with shaking hands. “Okay.” Scar sucks in a breath, unbelieving that he’s really doing this right now.
Slowly, Scar drops down on one knee in front of Grian, watching the way the other’s eyes go wide. But something about the position doesn’t feel quite right. Brows furrowing, Scar sets his other knee on the carpet below. “G? Mind kneeling with me here?” he asks, to which Grian nods. He joins Scar on the carpet, kneeling with him as well. “Much better,” he hums, pleased.
“Scar what?” Grian questions, lost and confused, and goodness his heart is beating so fast.
“I uh, I had a whole thing planned out, but Jellie seems to have thrown a wrench into all that,” Scar chuckles. “But it’s fine! I can improvise, who needs a plan?” He does. He needs a plan. Shaking his head, Scar reaches for one of Grian’s hands, grasping it in his own. He takes a measured breath, and begins to speak.
“I love you. More than words will ever be able to describe, G. You’ve done so much for me, more than I think I’ll ever be able to thank you for. You found me on the street, and despite being scammed by me, you still offered me a roof to live under, and a home to heal in.” Grian’s eyes are focused on him, listening with rapt attention. His gaze only worsens Scar’s nerves, heart beating a mile a minute. “You’re stubborn and witty, and sometimes you steal the blanket from me.”
Grian laughs.
Scar loves the sound.
“You don’t let me wallow in self pity, or memories of the harder times. You’re endlessly kind to both myself and Jellie, and everyone around you, even if your patience runs a little thin and you get snippy. We may get into a minor disagreement here and there, but you always come back around to me.” Scar smiles softly at him, so painfully fond and loving. “Back on that world… I never thought I would get to live life again. Or even enjoy the night sky without being afraid. It felt like a part of me was always missing, but I found that part with you.”
“Scar…” Grian trails off, face going red.
“G, you’re my home, my light. I want to spend every day waking up next to you and messing up pancake batter with you,” Scar laughs, the sound wet and shaky. Grian laughs with him, sounding just as affected. “I want to hold you on your bad days, and on your good ones. I want to be there through everything, for the rest of our lives. You’ve reminded me what it’s like to live and love, what it’s like to be me. There’s no one else for me, my heart and souls are yours.”
Scar swallows, holding the ring out to him. “So… will you entangle your life with mine forever? And marry me?” His expression turns bashful as he asks, and Grian is red in the face.
“You…” he trails off, amazed and in disbelief all at once. He looks between Scar and the ring, and he shakes his head. “I’ve been trying for days to find the perfect way of proposing to you, and you go and pull the rug right out from under me,” he laughs. “Curse how perfect you are sometimes.”
“C’mon G, you’re really leaving me hanging here!” Scar whines at him, making Grian laugh all over again.
Grian wraps his arms around Scar’s shoulders, pressing their lips together. “Yes, you spoon. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”
If their neighbors hear how loudly Scar yells, well… it’s a warm congratulations to the newly engaged couple.
Jellie watches her humans cry in each others arms, tail flicking lazily at her side. She better get extra treats for this.
(It’s only later, when they’re sitting on the couch, curled into each other, that Scar realizes what Grian said. He turns to him, “Wait, you were planning to propose too?”
Grian snorts with laughter, “Hadn’t even picked out a ring, but yes Scar, I was.”)
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rainylana · 2 days
Text
“Goodnight, Ed’s.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: you’re stoned and drunk, so you suck eddie’s dick.
warnings: oral male receiving, language, smoking of weed, drinking.
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You loved late nights like this. Drunk, stoned and watching tv. Pizza boxes and Chinese food piled up on the counters. It was almost four in the morning, the living room was glowing with the illumination of the tv playing Poltergeist, a smoky steam and the smell of weed and booze strong and prominent.
You and Eddie were sat side by side, watching, giggling together, stoned out of your mind. You hadn’t said anything in hours, just enjoying the company of each other. You’d been through so much together. High school bullies, the trauma of both of your childhood’s. You had shared that with him, and he, you. Vecna. What you both had become after Vecna.
You shifted your neck and looked over to him, smiling softly. His eyes were dropping. He was getting tired. You lifted your arm and played with the back of his hair, twirling the curls and watching him relax under your touch. He closed his eyes and hummed, too tired to thank you.
You rubbed at his neck, scratched his skin lightly and circled the area behind his ears, giving him all the attention and affection you could give. You stifled your own yawn, leaning over and swooping his hair over to expose his neck.
You gave him a sweet, soft kiss behind his earlobe, scooting close so your legs touched his. You kissed and caressed his neck slowly and softly, moving up to his chin and back down. He groaned happily when you nibbled on his skin.
“Baby,” He barely opened his eyes, peeking over at you. “You know I’d love to, but I’m…so tired.” He fought off a yawn.
You pulled away, turning him toward you with a single finger under his chin. “Then let me do the work, darlin.” You pecked his lips with a wet sound, not so gracefully falling to the floor in a heap at his knees. You weren’t near as drunk as he was, but the effects of the marijuana had you dizzy and giddy, and more importantly, ready to suck his dick.
You struggled to take his belt and jeans off, and he was too out of it to be of any help. His hands fumbled with yours, and you slapped him away so you could do it yourself, eyes squinting in the poorly lit room. Once you got his belt undone, you pulled his pants down to his ankles, and his boxers were the next to go.
Once finished with removing his clothing, you sat up on your knees and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his thigh, then switching to the other. You could feel him watching you. You licked his skin with your tongue, the sound of someone screaming behind you on the tv. The light of the screen made him look angelic, eyes slouched and red rimmed, shoulders hunched over, cock hard and ready for you to suck dry.
You looked up at him. His arms were folded behind his head, leaning back with a small smirk on his face. “Well?” He asked.
You blushed at the deepness of his voice. It made your pussy throb. “Just waitin’ for you to ask me nicely, Ed’s.”
He pushed air out between his lips, rolling his head back till it hit the sofa. The couch had seen better days. It was covered in stains of all kinds. “Please, honey?”
You hummed happily, tossing your hair back and twirling your hands against him. “Sure, honey.”
You wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, sucking and puckering so hard he nearly jumped clean off the couch. “Ah,” He whined, gripping the cushions beneath him. “Oh, baby,”
You took his length in your mouth, moving down his shaft until he hit the back of your throat. You wrapped your hand around the base, moving up and down slowly, puckering him with your lips.
Your other hand kept you held upright with his thigh, your head going up and down in a steady rhythm. He held your hair, wrapping your locks with his fist to guide you where he wanted. He sniffled, tilting his head to look down at you.
“So good to me, baby, god,” He whimpered, his thighs tensing underneath you. “That feels so good.”
You swirled your tongue against the prominent vain along his shaft, hollowing your cheeks so you could get every inch of him inside of you.
“Fuck, baby, keep doing that.” He squinted his eyes closed, his hand dropping from your head to fist the sofa cushions. “Yeah, y-yeah, that,”
He panted, looking up to the ceiling as he felt his balls tighten. “I’m gonna cum, baby,”
You did what you knew best and paid special attention to his tip, the space beneath and massaged him with your tongue. He cried out, spilling himself down your throat with a salty taste.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He cursed in cries, biting his hand with his pearly teeth. You sucked him dry, taking in everything he had to offer.
You smiled, wiping the corners of your mouth. His eyes were closed, chest heaving with pants and his arms cast lazily at his sides.
“Goodnight, Ed’s.”
366 notes · View notes
thealternateuniverse · 15 hours
Text
How did you handle it?
1st part here
A/N: Didn't expect the number of likes on the first part, thank you so much 😭
Also, I know now who does Paige's braids now. I saw her on tiktok.
Warning/s: Read at your own risk
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----------------------
Following Ice's most recent live stream, Y/N's phone is constantly vibrating, and her Instagram feed is overflowing with follow requests and mentions. She didn't leave her apartment on the weekends after hearing from her teammates about their near-brawl on Friday night. She was trying to blow off some steam at the time, but she lost her cool and almost got into it. Azzi gave them a good earful, and Geno had more to say. Y/N apologized to her teammates, explaining that she was acting out of character at the time.
She felt a little better and forgot about her parents' divorce for a while. Not until her father texted her that he will be at her game next week. Dad is always the one who comes to her games; mom is too busy and cannot make time.
Frustrated, Y/N drops the dumbels.
"Yo! "KK, give me back my phone!" KK is running for her life, clutching Paiges' phone. Paige, on the other hand, looks terrified as if her life depends on with whatever is contained within her phone.
"Whaaaat! Dude, I just caught you stalking---asfghgjjhkjlhlk!" Paige caught up with KK and placed her palm on her mouth.
"Shut up!" She took her phone.
KK sounds like a dying goat now, with Paige's hands still on her mouth. Paige lets go of her and KK gasped for air.
"Shit, Hah! I just did not saw you do that P!" KK is shaking her head, laughing.
"I swear K, if you open your mouth I'll make sure that you will nev---" KK immediately zipped her mouth.
"You got it P! Your 'lil secret is safe." KK gave her a mischievous wink.
These two are as mischievous as ever.
Shaking her head, Y/N slips off her sweat-soaked muscle top, revealing only her sports bra. She could see Paige and KK's jaws drop from her peripheral vision. She turned towards them.
"What? "You guys have some saliva here." Y/N pointed to the side of her lip. The two appear to have come to their senses and instantly pretend to do something. Weird. It's as if they're seeing each other for the first time, taking off their clothes. Y/N twisted her hair into a sloppy knot and resumed lifting. She was halfway through lifting when Nika slapped her bum.
"Babe, I need you to braid my hair. Do you have a sec?"
She nodded to Nika and followed her. They walk past the others who were working out, and Y/N couldn't help but notice Paige and the way her biceps and deltoids popped while doing that damn pull up. Get a grip, Miller; you see your teammate doing this on a regular basis. Y/N reprimanded herself.
"So is mine eye enthralled by thy shape," Nika recited dramatically.
Nika came out laughing after noticing Y/N glancing at Paige.
"Don't worry, babe; she gets it a lot. And... Damn, did you just realized she's fine? You have to keep up; you have a home court advantage here." Nika winked. Y/N gave Nika a puzzled glance. It's not that she likes Paige; she just admires the muscles. That is it.
"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Y/N said making Nika snort.
"Okay, alright. I'm blind, I can't see, must be my poor eyesight."
Y/N endured Nika's teasing while doing her hair; she doesn't want to appear defensive, so she allows her friend and pretends that Nika Muhl seeing her looking at Paige Bueckers didn't affect her.
"Thank you, Baby. "I love the braids." Nika blew her a kiss before they returned to their routines.
------------
Paige glanced around cautiously before scrolling through her phone. She couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake that had led to her being caught by KK. She wasn't stalking, though; the algorithm following Ice's live had led her to Y/N's tagged photos and edits on Instagram. It was kind of annoying that Y/N was now known for being the "pretty girl" from the team instead of for her talent as a player. Paige had witnessed firsthand how great Y/N was during her time at Stanford. If it weren't for her MCL injury during her second year, she would have been neck and neck with Nika's stats in the last 2022-2023 conference.
"Girly, you are still not done? Man you are really living up to be a stalker ." KK tried to glance at Paige's phone, Paige was quick to hide it.
"I am not!" Paige responded defensively.
"Of course, why stalk when you can see her every day. Home court advantage." KK playfully raised her brows and gestured towards where Y/N is, shooting 3 point shots. Yeah, Paige mused to herself. Paige knows she's got the home court advantage, always playing on familiar turf. Y/N, on the other hand, is a social media ghost, her posts as rare as a shooting star, reserved only for strategic brand alliances. Just like she guards the offensive players on the court, she protects her privacy with the same intensity, keeping her personal life shrouded in mystery.
"You are not gonna like this." KK's gasp breaks the silence, drawing Paige's attention as she leans in, sharing her latest sports article discovery. With rapt interest, they both delve into the words, their silent communion speaking volumes as they absorb every line, lost in the world of sports unfolding before them.
Sports Agent Katherine Taylor-Miller Entangled in New Romance Amidst Divorce
In a whirlwind of events, sports agent Katherine Taylor-Miller finds herself at the center of media attention following news of her divorce from husband Craig Miller. The prominent figure in the sports world, best known for representing basketball star Breanna Stewart, is reportedly embarking on a new romance with Los Angeles' top firm lawyer, Drew Ross.
While Taylor-Miller has remained tight-lipped about the circulating photos online, indicating her involvement with Ross, sources close to the situation confirm that the divorce proceedings are well underway. The couple, who share a daughter, aged 22, are navigating this transition as their family dynamic shifts.
Adding a layer of complexity to the situation, their daughter, a talented athlete in her own right, has been making waves on the collegiate basketball scene. Initially playing for Stanford University during her freshman and sophomore years, she has recently transferred to the University of Connecticut for her junior year, following in the footsteps of her mother's client, Breanna Stewart.
The unfolding saga has captivated both sports enthusiasts and gossip followers alike, as speculation mounts about the implications for Taylor-Miller's career and personal life. As the situation continues to develop, all eyes remain on the high-profile sports agent and her newfound path forward.
Paige's confusion bubbles to the surface in her question. "Wait, so... that is Y/N's mom?"
KK nods solemnly. "Yep. Didn't expect that."
Paige's brow furrows as she scans the article again. "That article is nasty. It was unnecessary to mention, Y/N."
The two exchange a knowing glance before their gaze shifts towards Y/N, who remains blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the tabloids.
KK weighs the options for a moment before nodding resolutely. "Very. She's not gonna like it. Do we tell her?" KK's gaze seeks approval from Paige, who meets it with a shake of her head, silently acknowledging the delicate situation and opting to shield Y/N from unnecessary distress for now. "She'll find out sooner."
KK lets out a low whistle, her disbelief evident in her tone. "Unbelievable. I never thought her mom is Katherine Taylor. That woman was a badass, but yeah, whoever wrote this has some unpaid rent due." Paige nods in agreement, a hint of frustration tainting her expression as they both recognize the injustice of the situation.
The sudden thud startles both Paige and KK. Their heads snap towards the source of the sound, only to find Y/N on the bench-side taking a water break, her hand suspended and her phone on the floor.
"That's what we're talking about."
----------------
Y/N absentmindedly follows her teammates to Subway after they decided to grab some lunch there. Despite the buzz of camaraderie around her, she's lost in her own thoughts, savoring the simple pleasure of a break from today's events. Just as she starts to believe her day couldn't get any better, her world is rocked by the unwelcome intrusion of her parents' divorce being publicized.
Her heart sinks as she grapples with the sudden exposure of her family's private turmoil. Y/N has always been fiercely protective of her personal life, preferring to keep it shielded from prying eyes. The earlier article had already crossed a line, but this latest development feels like a betrayal of trust, a violation of the boundaries she holds sacred. She can't help but feel a surge of anger and frustration at the unnecessary intrusion into her family's affairs, a bitterness that threatens to overshadow the sweetness of her teammates' company.
Y/N finds a glimmer of solace in the silent solidarity of her teammates. As they gather around the table at Subway, not a single word is spoken about the tumultuous news that has shaken her world.
In that moment, Y/N feels a profound gratitude wash over her, a deep appreciation for their unspoken understanding and respect for her boundaries.
"The salad won't eat itself," snapped Paige, jolting Y/N from her deep thoughts. Y/N mechanically took a fork, but her salad remained untouched.
"Eat up, Miller. You need your energy." Paige commandeered the fork and began mixing the salad for Y/N.
"How did you handle it?" Y/N's voice trembled with vulnerability, causing Paige to pause mid-stir.
Paige didn't respond immediately, her mind racing to grasp the depth of Y/N's question. It didn't take long for the realization to sink in—it was about the divorce.
"When your parents divorced? How did you handle it?" Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a vulnerability she hadn't intended to reveal. Paige felt a pang of empathy twist in her gut. Y/N's question caught her off guard.
"Nevermind," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she wiped away the threatening tears. Determinedly, she finally began to eat her salad, hoping to distract herself from the emotional turmoil of the day.
As she savored each bite, Y/N made a conscious effort to push aside the weight of her parents' divorce. Her phone buzzed incessantly with texts and calls, but she only mustered the strength to respond to her dad via text. All she wanted was for their divorce to be finalized so they could all move forward with their lives.
Her thoughts drifted to the inevitable changes ahead. Her mom and dad would each go their separate ways, free to pursue new relationships if they so chose. While the idea of their family no longer being whole was a painful one, Y/N knew it was time to accept reality.
Above all, she yearned for one simple request: no more articles portraying her solely as her mother's daughter. She was determined to forge her own path, to carve out her own identity separate from her family's legacy.
-------
"You okay, babe?" Nika asked Y/N, slinging her arm around her shoulders. Y/N responded with her most convincing smile. "I'm fine," she assured Nika, though the skepticism lingered in her friend's nod. "Just so you know, we're here for you, okay?" Nika offered a comforting hug. "Thanks, babe."
As they strolled back to the university after lunch, Nika, Azzi, and Aaliyah had already forged ahead for their afternoon classes, while Paige had disappeared into god knows where. Y/N's afternoon lay open; no classes to attend. She pondered whether to take a stroll around her apartment's neighborhood or indulge in a swim in the pool.
Waving goodbye to her teammates as they reached the university's parking lot, she contemplated driving back home.
Sighing, Y/N parked her car and headed towards her apartment, only to be surprised by a waiting Paige Bueckers holding a pint of Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge ice cream.
"Paige, don't you have a class or something?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige still in her training attire: a UConn Huskies hoodie, basketball jersey shorts, socks, and slides.
Paige handed her the pint without saying anything.
"You asked me how I handled my parents' divorce," Paige shrugged.
"W-well forget it. I didn't mean to ---"
"It was hard. I thought we were a happy family, that they had vows, through thick and thin, for better or worse type of shit. I was angry, wondering what could possibly make them decide they weren't meant for each other. They had me for Christ's sake. It hurt to think that one day they'd meet someone new and start over, and what about me if that happens?" Paige took a deep breath before continuing.
"The good thing is, I was able to understand that it's better to have that divorce than to pretend they're still happy. I saw how happy my father is with his new family, happier than he was with my mother... All I'm trying to say is, whatever you feel in your current situation is valid—all the thoughts running in your head, the what-ifs, they're all valid. You'll come to terms with it soon, just give yourself time to feel it. And don't forget, you have us. It sucks to be a divorce child if you don't have siblings. It's okay, Miller. You can mope, you can lash out, feel it all the way."
Y/N burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, surprising Paige, especially considering they were in a parking lot. Y/N didn't know why the floodgates had opened—was it the news of her parents' divorce? The stress of the article? Or perhaps simply the ice cream? Regardless, she found herself releasing all the pent-up emotions.
"Christ, Miller. I didn't expect you to break down right here," Paige panicked, attempting to pacify her, though Y/N continued crying loudly.
Paige gently grabbed her hand, and together they walked towards Y/N's apartment, Y/N still sobbing loudly.
"People will think I made you cry." Paige said shaking her head.
They entered Y/N's apartment, with Paige leading the way as Y/N was too preoccupied at the moment. Paige settled Y/N on her couch and opened the ice cream she had brought. Y/N accepted it and took a spoonful, still teary-eyed.
Paige looked at her friend in disbelief, finding her oddly cute in this vulnerable state, with red, glistening eyes and puffy cheeks from crying.
They sat in silence, letting the ice cream provide comfort. It worked, as Y/N's tears eventually ceased.
"Thank you, Bueckers. I needed that cry and... the ice cream. How can I ever pay you back?" Y/N leaned her head on Paige's shoulder, grateful it was Paige who knew her favorite ice cream flavor.
Paige pretended to ponder the question. "You don't have to. Just get back to being yourself," she said, gently ruffling Y/N's hair. Y/N sighed in contentment.
"I mean it, though. Thank you for being here. I was resigned to being miserable today," Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude. They exchanged glances, and Paige found herself momentarily lost in Y/N's mesmerizing eyes. There was something about them that drew her in. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get too carried away and do something she shouldn't.
"Yeah, it's nothing. Get yourself together, Miller," Paige replied, more to herself than to Y/N, feeling her ears grow warm.
"Are you okay? You seem... red?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige's flushed cheeks.
"Not as red as you are. You look ugly when you cry, Y/N," Paige remarked, trying to lighten the mood.
Y/N stiffened at the comment. This was the first time she had heard Paige address her by her first name. The surprise on Y/N's face caused Paige's brows to furrow.
"What?" Paige asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"Nothing, you've never called me by my name before. Or maybe you did, I just didn't hear you," Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay it. She didn't want to make Paige feel awkward.
"I just don't know what to feel hearing it from you. It sounds different," Y/N admitted.
Paige choked on her response, caught off guard by Y/N's vulnerability. This woman will be the death of her one day. -----------------
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euseokz · 3 days
Text
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@ sungchan — i just miss you so much baby, i can't help it . . cws : phone sex . masturbation (f + m) . oral (m) . wc : 1.0k+ . genre : smut
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BOYFRIEND! SUNGCHAN who, when he goes on a week long family vacation, starts missing you a little too much by the middle of it.
he knows you're only a phone call away, so that's what he does, call you, a sweet conversation that started out about how much your boyfriend missed you quickly going south, becoming more devious without either of you even noticing it.
“i just miss you so, so much” sungchan mumbles, his voice sounding almost whiny, and that's when you realize what he wants at that moment. you're direct with it, ask him if he's hard, and when he only lets out a small moan you know he already has his hands down his shorts, probably palming himself through the fabric of his underwear. it was like he was going through withdrawal, a withdrawal of you, so needy for you he was willing to go through any lengths just to get a bit of release.
“are you alone?” you ask, your own hand moving towards your middle, fingers pressing against your clit through the fabric of your bottoms. sungchan gives you a positive hum, letting out another small groan, then telling you that he can't make too much noise though.
that's when you know there's no turning back, that now you're gonna see the end of this.
without missing a beat, and while applying a bit more strength as you touch yourself, you ask sungchan what he’s thinking, his reply more shameless than you’d expected.
“of you, laying on your bed, playing with yourself and making those pretty noises you always make for me… i wish i could just walk in and fuck you, strip you out of every single piece of clothing you’re wearing and fuck you until all you can say is my name” he told you, tone hushed but loud enough for you to catch every single word, a soft whine slipping past your lips as you finally pushed your underwear to the side, touching your clit directly, circling your fingers over it in a languid pace, hearing as lewd, wet noises spread through your room, your low whimpers mixing well with the sounds of your slick while you touched yourself.
“and what are you thinking about, pretty girl?” sungchan asked after hearing your reaction to his words, that enough for him to know he had you exactly where he needed you.
“of how much i want your cock in my mouth right now, how good it always feels when you pull at my hair and make me swallow it all even if i can barely handle it. just thinking about it drives me crazy channie, how sensitive you always get when i lick your tip, and how messy it always is when you let me play with you” sungchan groaned as you spoke, throwing his head back and pulling his hard cock out of his shorts, stroking it at a fastening pace — your filthy words, how you used the nickname you always reserved for your more intimate moments, everything about the whole situation driving his crazier than he had expected it to.
“tell me how you’re touching yourself right now baby, please” sungchan said breathlessly, his eyes closed and his mind running a million miles per hour, his fingers gripping harder around the base of his dick before moving up to his tip, spreading his pre-cum down the entire length, groaning as lowly as he could, so only you could hear him through the phone.
“i’m playing with myself like how you always do before you fuck me” you replied, sungchan immediately answering back with another question.
“does it feel as good as when it’s me?”
“no, your fingers feel so much better” you spoke through a low moan, moving to stuff two fingers inside yourself, letting out another mewl as you felt them push into you, moving them slowly, almost as if you were teasing yourself.
“i wish i was fucking your pussy right now, i’m driving myself crazy just thinking about it” sungchan said, holding back just how loudly he actually wanted to moan, moving his hand faster, desperate for more. “i want you to make yourself cum to my voice, you can do that, right?”
you hummed at sungchan’s request, bending your fingers and pressing them against that spongy spot inside your hole, biting at your bottom lip hard, pressing your lids close together and imagining sungchan was right next to you — much like how he was doing, just that he was instead thinking of you on top of him, fucking yourself on his cock, while you imagined him pushing his fingers in and out of you.
“‘m close” you mumbled, feeling warm pleasure bubble up around your lower stomach, moving your fingers faster, seeking more of that sweet sensation.
“me too, fuck-” sungchan groaned, his voice fading as you only heard him let out a low, dragged out moan, then only his breath being hearable through the phone, it’s pace quickening until he cursed one more time, his voice now strained. “i’m cumming” he grunted, his hands moving faster until strings of milky cum were dripping down his fingers, staining them and running down until it dripped to his shorts.
almost as a chain reaction, you too felt your orgasm burst inside you right after, your high crashing into you hard, making you let out a louder than expected moan before also going silent, only your ragged breath left as you slowed down the pace in which you moved your fingers.
eventually, you two calmed down, taking you a few moments before you spoke again.
“i really wish you were here” sungchan said through a laugh, looking at the mess he had made of himself.
“me too” you replied through a pout, your eyes also focused on the mess you had made.
“i miss you too much already”
“you’re going through withdrawal or something” you laughed, giving yourself a second before getting up and heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up, much like what sungchan was doing at the same time as you.
“feels like it” your boyfriend replied through a chuckle, your conversation after that going back to being lighthearted, his need for you still alive, but at least a bit tamer now.
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billskeis · 22 hours
Note
Hi, could you do Bill Kaulitz imagine, comforting the female reader, because it's been very stressful for her lately?
ᡣ𐭩 boyfie bill who nurtures his gf
you slam the door, flinching, you didn’t expect it to be so loud although it was intentionally you’re doing. bill welcomes you with open arms but you walk right past him, a pout forming on his face. he swears he can see the storm clouds floating above your head, today was just not a good day. or week, you’ve been stressed for some time.
“schatzi, bad day?” all you could do was sigh and nod, back facing to him but he can still see the motion of your head moving up and down. this is all he needs for him to sweep you off your feet and face you now hand in hand, twirling you to meet each other’s eyes. “bill?” you ask.
he smiles at you, cupping your face in his hands as you nuzzle your nose into his palms, taking in his scent. home, bill smelled so much like home. you feel a little bit more comfort knowing that you have someone like him in your life, “you’ve done so much this week baby.. let me show you some appreciation,” “bill, i’ve got more work to do..”
he shakes his head in disapproval, “i won’t take no for an answer, c’mon, you deserve it. how ‘bout a bath? and while you’re in, i can cook a meal.. after that, we can watch a movie, do face masks, snack on whatever we want..? just—spend time with me—you’ve overworked yourself, now lemme paper you ja?”
you hesitate. your office job clearly working you to the bone. just paperwork after paperwork, call after call. no lunch break, overtime. you’re boss is an asshole. you only have one or two friends at work, the rest of them dare not to associate with you. a day to you and bill.. does sound pretty nice.. well, fuck it, those corporate slaves can go kick rocks.
you pull bill in for a hug, a nice squeeze and the way your face dug into his chest was all he needed to realize your approval. kissing the top of your head, he breathes you in, “my beautiful angel.. let’s go run you that bath hm?” “mmhm..” taking your hand, he leads you to your shared bathroom.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
sitting in the warmth of the bath tub, bubbles are all that surround you as the faint scent of coconut and vanilla fill the room. you dip your body further into the big puddle of water, submerging yourself, body and muscle finally relaxing from all the tension and strain your poorly funded office chair has you stuck in for a consecutive eight hours.
a patter of small footsteps come closer as you’re now met with your boyfriend sitting at the edge of the bath tub. “how s’that feel? feel better?” “definitely, i needed this so much.. thank you baby,” bill runs the palm of his hand on the back of your neck, slightly adding pressure to message the tension out of your body. just a slight touch is more than enough.
“it’s my duty as your boyfriend.. been working so hard my pretty girl, a lil’ self care don’t hurt doesn’t it?” you scoff at him, knowing of your workaholic tendencies. on multiple occasions bill has offered many times a self care day as such, which always ends with a decline. you were so stubborn, a determined individual to get your work done but at what cost? this, is way better than that stupid office job.
“bill,”
“yes baby?”
“i smell something burning,”
“oh shit—mwah—THE FOOD!!!”
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
you and bill had ended up ordering takeout for the night. as you two cuddle on the couch covered in blankets, bill sulks as he takes a bite of his pad thai. “bill! it’s okay, i appreciate the gesture, you’ve done enough baby i promise.” “no! no baby it was—it was supposed to be perfect for you. i stayed up all night researching comfort foods and i couldn’t even do a simple recipe like that..” he stayed up all night?
as he fusses in his spot, his face mask threatens to slip off his face from so much facial expression movement. you use your fingers to fix and adjust the sheet mask back comfortably onto his face, the cooling sensation once again touching his plush cheeks. “billy, it’s okay, it’s just food.. next time okay?” “next time :D? we can do this next time :D?”
you giggle and laugh at him, he’s so cute. linking arms with him, you scarf down on the fried rice, it was really good. you think about how good bill’s cooking would taste, known for being a great home chef. well, to you and tom at least. your day was made so much better, all warm and cozy inside, so grateful to have bill in your life.
you look at bill who’s already looking at you. he asks you if you were okay because he’d been watching you eat this whole time and saw how you seemed lost in thought. you reassure him, letting him know that you are just thankful that he’s doing all this for you, he can only cheekily smile and tell you ‘you deserve it, my beautiful princess, s’glad i was able to make your day.’
you take each other’s face masks off. you massage the essence of the face mask onto bill’s face. he closes his eyes for better leverage as you gently press your fingers into his cheeks, forehead and every nook and cranny of his face. you tap his face so he can open his eyes as you finally finish. as you raise your hands to start on yours, bill swats them away and tells you ‘lemme do it!’ as he brings his own to massage your cheeks, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before he starts.
you think about a resignation.
oooookay this one was bad . sorry guys D: i appear to be losing my spark
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FRET NOT ! i am not leaving , just probably won’t be as active as i think i’ll be . will occasionally post :3
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munv · 17 hours
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𝗜𝗠𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡 𝗘𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗬
𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗕𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗜𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗦𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗲𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂? 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼?
I MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH MWAH MWAH MWAHH
P8
It was a wednesday, and the day was going perfectly fine, before you were called over into the principals office.
"Itoshi [name], please report to the office. Itoshi [name]" hushed whispers spread out throughout the classroom and in the midst of it your best friend leaned over from her seat to whisper in your ear. "psstt..did you piss someone off?" you turned around to face the girl before letting out  a sigh, "not that I know of..see you at lunch?'
"right!
Quickly, you made a beeline to the main office. The last thing you wanted to be was late, and then find out that you really did something wrong. The urge to crawl into a hole was all consuming not to mention, you mean, why the hell do these kids stare so much? They are such certified gossipers..
By the time you reach the office door you take a deep breath, this could either be your demise or your biggest accomplishment on the planet yet. There is no in between, only gratitude and pain. Raising a hand, you make a move to knock on the door. "Hello?". From within you could hear a voice call out in response, "come in!!" she yells out. 
Sounds like she's busy you guess. Might as well make this one quick.
Opening the door, you walked into the room to face the woman in front of you. She was pretty, sure, but she was mainly soft whenever she didn't need to be. It was unnecessary considering how unruly most of the kids in this school were. "Itoshi-san! there you are,." "yes, is there something you need from me ms?" it was better to get to the point rather than some small talk right?. "Right right, i've gotten a call from your parents and it seems like an emergency of some sort popped up. They want you home immediately."
An emergency?..Did the house burn down or something? But either way if this is an "emergency" then they must've already picked up Sae to go home. "thank you for having me ms, I'll go pack my bag now." You bowed your head a little before walking out the door. Making sure to close it behind you. 
What a pain..
First of all. What the fuck. 
There were some thoughts here and there as to what the so called emergency could be. With Sae tightly hanging on to you, basically squeezing the bloodstream out your hand in the process, there was no way to say that this wasn't reality. Your mother was pregnant, yes, it was very obvious from one glance. But to think that she would be having the baby TODAY? your own father was ready to pass out. 
The only thing that kept you grounded from running into that room was Sae. You weren't there for his birth now that you think about it, but what if someone bad happened? What if something happened to the baby? There have been some sorry instances that mothers made it but the baby didn't. If something happens to her, will your father really be able to take care of all three of you by himself? 
what happens if this turns out like your past life?
Everything feels like everything is spiralling down on you, and it takes common sense to realize that this isn't just a game, this is real. The life you are living right now is real, the people beside you are real, and so are you. This isn't just some fantasy you've had after death, this isn't paradise. Everything around you is living and breathing, and this might be your last shot at having a proper life. So no matter what happens you have to take care of your family. 
"nee-san."
A voice calls out to you. That's right. You have Sae, and he takes priority. You squeezed back his hand once again for the day. "I'm here, Sae." You assure him. "I know you are." he squeezes back with more force. 
"But does nee-san know that I'm here to?" This takes you by surprise and you can only turn to look at Sae with shock plastered on your face. "stop taking on everything yourself.." he mumbles. But you're still able to catch it. It feels nice to not be alone, you realize. Usually you would take on everything on your own and shoulder everyone, but even sometimes you need to take a break for yourself too.
"so..you DO know how to be kind?" you teased. "I was just comforting you, you rude bum!" "who taught you that?!" "YOU" "TO HELL I DIDN'T" "THEN TO HELL YOU GO"
From a distance your father watched with a small chuckle. "they never really change..do they?" he said shaking his head.
It was three hours before they sent a nurse into the waiting room to inform your family that your mother and baby were completely stable. They let your father into the room first before anything. It made you a little nervous now that you were really thinking about it, but to have siblings, and a real family above all else made you happy.
It was a while before the doctors let you and sae in but it was worth the wait. On your way to the room he made small talk with you. "How does it feel to be an older sister kid?" 
"It's a bit troublesome, but I think I can handle two of them." He then started to question Sae as well. "And how does it feel to have another boy in your family?" "lukewarm." 
The doctor sweatdropped in response. "alright.." You walked a bit more before arriving to the room your mother is in. "alright, we're here" he took the courtesey to open the door. Inside laid your mother in a hospital gown on the bed, and to behold, was something wrapped in cloth in her arms. 
Your father sat on the chair right to her bedside and waved you two over after watching the doctor leave. 
"the family seems to be complete huh?" he laughed out. 
  ITOSHI OMAKE
"why is it looking at me like that?" currently sae was looking at his newborn baby brother. "did I look like that okaasan?" 
Your mother let out a giggle at sae's cluelessness. "of course you did! you were the cutest baby!" she pulled on his cheeks a bit. "eugh..it looks weird."
"It's a bit odd how [name] never cried as a baby. Gave us a whole lot less work than expected." You sat on the bed directly next to your mother holding the baby. He didn't really open his eyes but you could tell it would be the trademark teal eyes. The eyelashes were already there anyways.
"Does he have a name yet?" you questioned. "Sadly no." your father sighed. "Your mother was out cold for a while so we're yet to name him anything." 
your mother hummed while playing with your hair, soon starting to braid it before someone spoke up. 
"Rin." 
all eyes turned to the second youngest Itoshi in question. "his name will be Rin." he said poking a finger at the baby. Rin looked at sae before holding onto his finger, a smile then broke out on both the Itoshi's faces. Your smile followed after. 
"alright then! its settled."
"welcome to the family little rin!" your mother announced. Laughter broke out into the room and you looked at your two younger brothers. "yeah..welcome rin."
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