#and she’s like calling me and saying i didn’t text her (she read it) and then it’s just to ask about her packages bc i didn’t text her back

[fanbasetwo]

first time w anton? virgin anton x virgin reader?

IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU 🙂

✦ BABY GIRL, 143 ! ANTON

001. PAIRING , virgin anton × virgin reader

002. SYNOPSIS , anton had been away from you for some months and now when he was back, you showed him all the texts you had seen on his phone. only ending up sealing the deal at the end.

003. GENRE , smut

004. WARNING(S) , kissing, a little dirty talk but anton is just shameless lol, teasing, pussy slapping, little to no prep, boob play, nipple play (slightly), they make up pretty early after fight, hymen breaking, mentions of blood and pain, too much plot if you ask me, lmk if I missed anything.

005. WORD COUNT , 1.8K

MASTERLIST!! join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

You had been dating Anton for a few years now. You met through a dating app, and while some might find that odd, you both clicked instantly. For better or worse, you fell in love.

Since you started dating at a young age, you both decided to seek job opportunities outside of town, which meant navigating a long-distance relationship. While many say long-distance relationships often fizzle out, that wasn’t the case for you two.

In fact, Anton would send you those silly memes that made you laugh and would video call you while cooking, asking for your advice if he messed something up. His friends teased you, saying you two were practically a married couple, and while there was some truth to that, the more accurate reality was that you both missed each other terribly.

So when he finally returned after landing a high-paying job—while you worked part-time as a cashier to cover rent—he insisted on paying your rent, but you turned him down.

The relationship seemed perfect, especially with his visit after what felt like two long years apart. But everything changed when you accidentally glanced at his phone. A text from a number with a heart emoji as a name read, “Is my baby fine?” In that moment, the realization hit you hard: the person you thought was your boyfriend was cheating on you.

“SO YOU CHEATED?!” you shouted as soon as you heard him enter the apartment. Anton, always the goofy one, jumped back in surprise at your furious tone and asked, feigning ignorance, “I’m not sure what you're talking about.”

“The message!” you ground out through clenched teeth, pointing at his phone, which he had mistakenly left behind.

As understanding seemed to dawn on him, he cursed under his breath and then smiled, which only confused you more. Why was he smiling? Shouldn’t he be trying to explain himself? Did those years together not mean anything to him?

Then he stepped closer, and instinctively, you took a step back until your back hit the wall of your apartment. His hands cupped your face as he said, “Hmm… Why would you trust the text so much? The ‘baby’ wasn’t me. The ‘baby’ was her dog, the one she asked me to take care of for a while.”

You didn’t buy it, so you pressed on, “Oh really? Then why does her username have a heart?”

He paused for a moment but answered without hesitation, even though you glared at him. “Well, maybe because that’s my mom?”

Processing that, your eyes widened. It actually made a sick sort of sense. The woman in the profile picture looked significantly older and bore some resemblance to Anton. Now you found yourself in a strange situation, filled with doubt.

You had just confronted your longtime boyfriend, your heart racing at the thought of betrayal, all sparked by a simple text while he gently held your face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I’m hurt, but I’ll find it in my heart to forgive you. I could never cheat on you, Y/N,” he reassured, resting his forehead against yours, the warmth of his skin anchoring you in that moment.

It took you back to when your love was fresh and innocent, when you were just seventeen, lost in each other’s world. Those years apart felt like an eternity, and as you closed your eyes, you longed for the sweetness of his touch, the electric thrill of his lips on yours.

The kiss deepened, a beautiful melody played by your lips as you moved together in perfect sync. He pulled away just enough to catch his breath before diving back in, his tongue tracing gentle patterns that sent shivers down your spine.

You felt the rhythm of your tongues entwining, a lovely exploration you had only ever dreamed of. You had talked about waiting for one another, yet now you felt the exhilarating unknown of your connection. His hands traveled up your shirt, igniting tingles on your skin, and as he broke the kiss to rest his forehead against yours, the world around you faded away.

“Can I touch you more?” he asked, his hands gliding under your shirt as he looked at you with such intensity and love, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. The truth was, both of you were a bit inexperienced in this area, but let’s be honest, you both wanted to explore… so you nodded.

Before long, his hands were cupping your breasts beneath your shirt and bra. He was touching your bare skin. You could feel both of your breaths hitching; it was something new for the two of you after all.

You feel Anton's warm breath on your face as he leans in close, his lips softly brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "I can... really touch, right?" he murmurs, looking for your confirmation before pulling you closer, his strong arms wrapping around you. His tongue dances with yours as the kiss deepens, sending tingles through your body.

When you nod, he breaks the kiss, and his hands move with a swiftness that takes your breath away. Your shirt and bra are discarded in one smooth motion, leaving your bare skin exposed to his hungry gaze. His thumbs find your nipples, rubbing the sensitive buds until they harden into tight peaks. You can't help but let out a soft moan as waves of pleasure wash over you, your back pressed firmly against the wall.

Suddenly, you're airborne as Anton scoops you up in his arms, cradling you securely against his chest. A warm feeling envelops you, and you can't help but wish that at least one of you had some experience with this. "You don't mind, right?" he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he lays you down gently on the bed.

"Yeah, but..." you trail off, a hint of nervousness creeping into your tone. "Do you know how to...? At least one of us should know what we're doing."

Anton crawls on top of you, his powerful body hovering over yours. He leans down, planting a soft kiss between the valley of your breasts before looking up at you from between them. A sheepish grin spreads across his face. "I may have watched some... for scientific purposes, of course," he adds with a playful wink.

His arousal is evident, a hardened bulge straining against the fabric of his pants. It brushes against your jeans, sending shivers through both of you.

Your eyes flutter shut as Anton unbuttons his pants, the sound of fabric sliding against fabric filling the room. He discards them on the floor, along with your own jeans, the cool air brushing against your now bare skin. His large hand envelops your smaller one, guiding it towards his clothed bulge. You both hitch a breath as your fingers make contact, his arousal evident beneath the thin fabric.

"See what you do to me?" he whispers, his voice low and husky with need. You swallow hard, your heart thumping in your chest as he pushes his boxers down, and you see him, all hard and long, your eyes widening as a deep blush spreads across your cheeks at the exposed sight of him, vulnerable to you.

"Baby, you wanna put it in or do I?" he asks, unapologetic and direct, his tone incredulous. You squirm under him and look away, embarrassment exuding like a palpable scent.

"That's not quite. decent," you mumble, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Anton chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. "For what we're about to do, I don't think we should care about being decent," he says with a raised brow and a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as your clothes join his on the floor.

Again, his hand bumps against yours to move it to his bare cock. You can feel every ridge and vein beneath your fingertips, the heat of his skin searing against your own. Your shyness returns, but there's no denying the effect your touch has on him. He groans and his hips bulge slightly as your hand is constricted around his length.

"Have you never slept with anyone?" you ask, a note of skepticism creeping into your voice because of how confident he seemed. He shakes his head, the dark locks falling across his forehead.

"It's because I love you and I trust you," he breathes, words stuttered over a guttural curse as your hand tightens its grip. "Fuck.”

Your grip tightens on the shoulder of Anton as his cock teases your wetness, the head slapping lightly against your pussy. He lets out a sigh as that anticipation builds between you and him. "I am going to put it in," he whispers, his gaze searching yours for any sign of disapproval. Finding none, he slowly pushes forward, the tip of his cock breaching your entrance.

A shiver of agony rips across you as your cherry is broken, drops of blood trickling down into your pussy. Tears well up from your squeezed eyes, your body tensing against this strange sensation. Anton buries his face in the crook of your neck, his own breathing in ragged gasps. "It—h-hurts—" your voice cracks, the words barely audible.

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he asks, "Should I pull out?" Despite the guilt etched on his face, you shake your head stubbornly. "No, I want to do it." Your walls clench around him, your body instinctively trying to accommodate his size.

Anton takes a sharp breath of air. He waits a few moments before pushing deeper. A scream tears from your throat, your body arching off the bed as he sheathes himself fully inside you. Tears stream down your face, and he leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss as he stills, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion.

"This is good, right? You're not scared now. are you?" he whispers against your lips, his hips rocking gently, your body slowly relaxing as it grows accustomed to the stretch.

"Mm." is all you can say, your mind dazed by the shocks of the sensations. His cock spasms inside you, and you and he are suddenly acutely aware of the crimson stain spreading across the sheets. Concern flickers in his eyes, but he knows this is normal, a testament to your lost innocence.

"It's okay, baby. It's supposed to hurt a little the first time," Anton reassures you, his voice soft and soothing. He kisses your tears away, his lips trailing along your cheek and down your neck. "I've got you. We'll go slow."

He starts to move, his hips rocking gently against yours, easing you into the rhythm. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure mixed with discomfort, your body struggling to adapt to the foreign sensation of being filled so completely.

"Breathe, Y/N. In and out," he coaches, his own breathing ragged as he fights to maintain control. "Tell me how it feels. If it's too much, I'll stop."

You whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you try to focus on the instructions. "I-It's intense," you manage, your voice trembling. "But don't stop. I want to feel all of you."

NOTE FROM SENA , this was genuinely just supposed to be a drabble, how the hell is this 1.8k words 😭💕

© fanbasetwo | tumblr

[lizardho]

When I came out, I was SO scared I was gonna get disowned. I wrote a letter to my parents, sent it to their emails, put a physical copy on the counter, and left the house for a few hours to give them time. In that time I tried coffee for the first time, which was a dreadful idea, and got all jittery. I kept waiting for a text or something but nothing happened.

After a few hours, I didn’t hear back from them so I went home. My parents were home and had stacked a bunch of groceries on top of the letter without opening it. They said “hi” and I said “hi” and went down stairs to the basement. I held my dog and panicked about what to do. My sister, who knew that I had written them a letter of great importance, told me they hadn’t read it yet. She also told me she could ask them to do so. I consented to this and stayed in the basement. A few minutes later my dad knocked on the door and poked his soft smooth little nerd head in and said “hey buddy” and I started crying so hard I almost vomited. He came over and gave me a BIG hug and said that it was gonna be OK, he was OK with this, he knew it must have been hard but he was here for me. He told me he and my mom had already talked years before they had me about how if they had to pick between their faith and their child they’d pick their child. It was a very sweet moment. I came out to my mom later that evening and we were both bawling the whole time.

The day after I came out to my parents, I came out to my brother @inbabylontheywept at a Mexican restaurant and he took it like a champ. That evening my mom took me for a walk and looked almost angry - she said she wanted to make sure that I didn’t use being a woman as an excuse to not go to grad school. I told her I wouldn’t and she instantly looked relieved and happier.

My dad, on the other hand, seemed to struggle with it. He kept asking me if I had a boyfriend, and I told him I did not. He kept asking me if I wanted to go clothes shopping with him and I did not. He kept asking me if I would let him go to some of my shows, and I had NO idea what he was talking about.

Finally, 6 months after coming out, of awkward misgendering and questions that didn’t make sense from my dad, he excitedly pokes his soft smooth little nerd head into my bedroom again and says “I found a movie about Your People.” My people. I was absolutely bewildered, but he was so excited and I knew he had been trying SO hard so I watched it with him. It was The Birdcage, and it was amazing. It also was revelatory in that I finally realized why my initially-supportive father seemed to be having such a hard time with my pronouns and stuff - he didn’t know what the difference between trans and doing drag was. After the movie he again asked if I would invite him to one of my shows, and I said, “Hey dad, you know how about half the world is women?” And he said “yeah,” and I said “Well, see, I’m on that half now. I’m not doing drag.” And it was like a switch flipped in his brain. He was like “omg that’s so easy? I was so confused about what to call you when?”

Anyway, my parents are charming and my family has been so kind and patient with me, I like sharing the stories of my little wins with them.

[flemingsfreckles]

Replacement Pt.12

Read the rest of the series here!

Warnings: just some pg13 making out, nothing else.

WC: 3.3k

A/N: hi, I finally got this chapter finished, it’s been a struggle, like I’ve said I’ve been incredibly busy, I’m hoping to get some short blurbs written for yall so I can get back to consistently posting.

You didn’t hear much from Jessie the next day. A few texts here and there, but nothing like you were used to. You acknowledged each other at training, uncomfortable glances in each other's direction, followed by quick, training related conversations.

You hated it. Feeling like you had messed up, that you were to blame. You had spent the night feeling angry, at Jessie and at yourself. Her words had hurt, the way she nearly dismissed what you had seen as valuable. You loved the safety you felt when it was just the two of you in her apartment. You loved how it felt to finally feel comfortable exploring this side of your life. You loved being able to touch her, hold her hand, kiss her and not feel scared. You loved being able to open talk, no teammates or strangers potentially listening in. You figured she had felt the same, until she had called it all fake.

At the same time you were mad at her, you were mad at yourself. You knew it wasn’t fair to force Jessie into dates at home. She deserved someone who wanted to show her off, someone who was proud to be her girlfriend and showed it. You hadn’t given that to her. The longer you sat in bed thinking, the more you felt torn. You didn’t want to lose her, but you weren’t ready for everyone to know, at least not yet.

“Can I pick you up tonight? 9pm? I’ll have you home by midnight I promise.” Those were the first words you spoke to Jessie this morning that weren’t related to soccer. You had waited around in the locker room after training until all your teammates had left and just the two of you sat side by side in your cubbies.

“Kinda late don’t you think?” She questions quietly.

“Please?” You didn’t want to have to beg her, but you needed to talk, you needed this chance with her.

“Okay, sure.”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up.” You say to her as she heads out of the locker room. A little hurt that she hadn’t waited to walk out with you, but you also couldn’t blame her too much. This morning had been tense and awkward, it was fair for her to run off.

“You’re not going to kill me up here are you?” Jessie tries to break the silence in the car. You just glance at her. “Sorry, obviously a joke.”

You and Jessie had been driving for about 25 minutes before you parked the car. You had traveled out of the city of Portland, into the woods, down a gravel road, to a small clearing you found last year. Away from the hussle and bussle of the city, it became a quiet place for you to think. It probably wasn’t at all what she was expecting, but you didn’t mind surprising her.

“9pm picnic?” Jessie says, puzzled look on her face as she followed you out of the car and watched you lay out the blanket you had brought.

“No, stargazing.” You point upward to the clear sky displaying tiny bright dots of light.

“Oh.” Jessie makes her way to the blanket, toeing off her shoes before sitting down. You follow, sitting beside her. Just like the car, the two of you start off in silence, waiting for the other to break it.

“Look, Jessie.” You start, waiting for her to turn to look at you, when her eyes meet yours you continue. “I know this isn’t completely public, but I’m trying. You asked to do something outside of our houses, this is what I’m comfortable with for now. I wanted to show you, I’m in this, I want this.”

“I know, I’m really sorry, for what I said, I should have never said those dates were fake, because they weren’t. Those evenings together meant something to me and they meant something to you. They weren’t fake and I’m so sorry I said they were. I’m in this too, I want this too. I just freaked out, thinking you’d keep me a secret forever, which now that I’ve reflected was stupid and I just panicked.”

“It was never my intention to keep you a secret forever. I just need a little bit more time. I’m still figuring this out.”

“Yeah, I know. You deserve to take the time you need, I’m sorry if I made you feel pressured in any way.” Her hand on your thigh gives you a gentle squeeze, sending tiny feelings of electricity up between your legs.

You respond with silence, not quite knowing where to take the conversation, but also just falling into a comfortable silence with the girl next to you. As you both lay, you lean your head over, resting it on her shoulder. The two of you lay in silence, admiring the display in the sky above you.

“This has been really nice.” Jessie says rolling over on her side to look at you. You keep your eyes trained on the sky, looking at the stars. “Thank you for showing me this.” She puts a kiss on your cheek before shifting to lay her head on your chest, one of her arms coming to wrap around your waist.

You feel your face rush with heat at the feeling of her kiss. You couldn’t believe something simple from her, like a peck on the cheek still gave you a tingling feeling in your stomach. “You know it’s been three months technically since our first date, and one month since we agreed to be girlfriends?”

“I did.” Jessie lets out a little sigh. “I just wasn’t sure if you wanted to make it a big deal or not, people are different, we hadn’t really done anything for month one or two, so I wasn’t sure if you maybe weren’t a monthly anniversary person or not.

“I wasn’t sure if you were, that’s why I haven’t been saying anything.”

“So we’ve just been not acknowledging it.” Jessie laughs softly as she speaks.

“Yeah I guess.” You shrug.

You feel Jessie shift on the blanket, she lifts her head momentarily.“I’ve had a really nice three months with you.”

“Me too babe.” You both share a smile before Jessie leans up toward you, her lips finding yours.

As you kiss you can almost feel a shift. One you can’t quite place but the way she kissed you, felt deeper, more passionate, her tongue running against yours felt dirtier, in a way that made you want more. Before you can get too carried away you find yourself pulling back. You wanted it, but not on a blanket, on a rock, in the middle of somewhat secluded woods.

“Um, so it’s almost eleven, I promised I’d have you home by midnight.”

“Right…” Jessie says. “I mean, we do have film and recovery tomorrow. Should probably get at least some sleep.” Both of you groan as you stand up, not wanting to leave the peaceful night you had created, but you knew you had to.

After the short drive home you found yourself parking your car outside of your own place, instead of Jessie’s. “Sorry, I’ll drop you off in a second, I forgot something for you, I meant to grab it earlier.”

“Of course, no problem.”

“Unless you wanted to come upstairs?” It was an innocent enough question you posed to Jessie, but both of you knew it likely had a less than innocent underlying meaning.

You had been more physical on your date tonight than most. Your hands had constantly been finding ways to touch Jessie. Your hand in hers, your hand on her thigh, hand on her back, your fingers running through her hair, and she was returning the favor, her hands running down your side as she had rested with her head on your chest.

“Yeah, if you want me to?”

“I do.” You nodded. “Plus, tomorrow is just film and recovery, if we’re a little sleepy, it’ll be alright.” You end the sentence with a slight smirk on your face. The two of you made quick work of getting out of your car and she followed you up to your building.

You initiated it. The second the two of you made it through the door, your lips found Jessie’s, kissing her hard, not wasting any time before you let your tongue slide against her lips. Hands on her hips you urge her to move backward in the direction of your bedroom.

You poured years of self hatred and denial into the kiss, you were finally getting what you had always wanted deep down. The feelings you had suppressed for years poured out as the two of you made your way into the bedroom.

You reach the bed, finally breaking your kiss and you climb onto it as Jessie stands at the side, watching you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Not having to think twice you reassure her with an enthusiastic nod, it felt right, tonight was the night. You had no idea what you were doing, but excitement filled your stomach.

“Okay, just tell me if you change your mind.” Jessie says as she climbs onto the bed next to you, situating herself between your thighs.

Leaning down, she covers your body with her own, her lips making their way back to yours and the two of you spend time kissing. You slowly become used to the feeling of her body on yours, it's new, but you liked it, your hands hold her sides as her own hold her above you. Every slight shift of her weight you can feel, the longer you kiss her the more restless you become. You can feel the way her hips softly rock against yours. For a moment you’re in heaven.

You can feel your head start to spin as she kisses the side of your neck. The feeling you're experiencing is one you’re unable to put into words, a mix of uncertainty and excitement fill your system. Feeling bold in your movements you let your hands pick at the edges of Jessie’s shirt, your fingers just barely touching her bare skin underneath. She sits back, breaking away her lips from your skin and you watch as she puts her arms up.

“Go ahead.” She nods with a smile down to you and you slowly pull the shirt up and over her head. You let your eyes trail down her body, pausing a little too long at her chest, still covered in a sports bra. It was a view you had seen hundreds of times in the locker room but this was different. This wasn’t seeing her change into her kit for a game, this wasn’t her changing after practice. She was undressing for you. That made it different.

You’re enjoying the attention she’s giving to your neck and lips, until her hands find their way to the hem of your shirt and you feel her begin to gently pull on it. She doesn’t quite make a move to take it off of you yet, but you know that’s what she’s teasing at, her fingers creeping further under your shirt. That’s when your stomach feels like a sinking rock, it finally sets in what the two of you were doing. She was going to be naked, you were going to be naked. She’d be seeing every inch of you. You hadn’t done anything like this before, before Jessie you’d hardly made out with anyone.

As her fingertips graze the band of your bra the feeling in your stomach grows and for a moment you’re worried you’ll be sick. “Hang on Jess.” You’re able to whisper out and you almost regret it as you feel her lips pull away from your sensitive skin.

“Are you okay?” Jessie pulls back looking at your face, her fingers still touching under your shirt.

“Uh.” You try to find your voice, the words to tell her. Feeling frozen you just look at her. When she moves her fingers slightly you jump under her touch. Jessie now looks concerned as she looks down at you. You feel like you could cry in the moment, the lump in your throat starting to feel impossible to swallow.

“We can stop.” Jessie offers sweetly.

“No Jess, it's fine.” You quickly find the words trying to convince her and yourself that you’re okay. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you mean that.” Jessie stays still, her hands still resting on either side of your abdomen, you hope she can’t feel how uneven your breathing is, or just how hard your heart is beating. “I can tell you’re nervous, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You shouldn’t be embarrassed, but you were. Tucking your head down to avoid her eyes, you can feel them burning into the crown of your head. The heat rising on your cheeks makes this feel even more embarrassing. “I’ve just, I’ve never, and I don’t, I mean, I’m just not sure.” You manage to mumble out.

Jessie doesn’t say anything initially, but you feel her fingers slide out from under your shirt, resting on your thighs that were still wrapped around her waist. “Hey, it’s okay.” She begins rubbing slow strokes up and down your shorts, comforting you. Her right hand leaves your thigh and finds your own hand, gently interlacing your fingers.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks slightly and you can feel the tears welling up, blinking hard a couple escape and roll down your cheek. “I thought I was ready.”

“It’s okay, look at me.” Jessie politely requests. You turn your head, giving her a quick glance before shying away again. “Please,” it’s a gentle ask and you do as she says, making eye contact with her for just a moment before your eyes fall to your lap again, “I don't care, I mean, I do obviously, I care about you. I just mean, if you’re ever not ready, not comfortable, we’re not going to do anything.”

“I want to, I promise, I want to have sex with you, just, I don’t know, it’s still all new.” You couldn’t quite put into words the feelings you were having, uneasy, anxious, and yet excited, all flooding your system making you feel unwell.

“That’s okay.” Jessie swings her legs over yours, sitting down on the bed next to you, she reaches for her own previously discarded shirt pulling it over her head quickly before returning her focus to you. “You don't need a reason, and it's also okay to just not be ready.”

You just nod. You stay staring ahead, where Jessie used to sit, now your eyes fell across the room on the empty wall. An unsettling feeling still in your stomach, you just wanted it to go away. Your brain felt like it was ready to explode and yet it was silent at the same time, having no idea how to process the emotions you went through.

You’re not sure how long it’s been when Jessie speaks again. “Do you want me to go? I can leave if you need some space, Or I can stay, it’s your choice, whatever will make you comfortable.”

You hardly had to think before you knew the answer “Stay?”

“Of course.” Jessie says, you can almost feel her relax into the bed slightly. She moves around, covering herself with the throw blanket that rested on your bed.

“You’re not mad?” Finally having the courage to speak, you ask, slightly terrified of what the answer might be.

“Why would I be mad?” She turns looking at you with a hint of sadness in her expression.

“I don’t know. I mean I started it, I made it seem like we were going to, ya know.” Your hands play with the blanket.

“I’ll never be mad at you for saying no, no one should ever get mad at you for that.” Her hand finds yours, encouraging you to stop fidgeting with the blanket. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Okay.” You turn, swinging your legs off the bed. “I’m going to get ready for bed, I have an extra toothbrush if you still want to spend the night.”

“Yeah, only if you’re sure?”

“I am, feel free to grab clothes from my dresser, if you wanted something besides what you’ve got on.” You point over where your dresser was against the wall. Jessie nods then moves toward the dresser opening a few drawers before finding your t-shirts. She looks through a few and then holds one up. M

“Cool if I take this one?” She holds it up to you. You nod before heading into the bathroom. While you’re rummaging through your closet to find the packaged toothbrush for Jessie she joins you, your shirt now across her chest and one of your favorite pairs of sweats on her legs. You can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at the sight of her in your clothes.

“Here ya go.” You hand her the toothbrush and she walks to your sink. “I’m going to go change, I’ll be right back.” Quickly throwing on sweatpants and a shirt of your own you return to the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth before heading back toward your bed.

Jessie is standing at the foot of it, looking at you. “Do you have a side preference?” You shake your head before moving to the closest side of the bed, lifting the covers and beginning to climb in, you reach over setting an alarm for the morning. Jessie gets the idea and moves to the other side, putting her phone on the bedside table and climbing in as well.

You’d never slept next to anyone in a romantic way. Sure you’d shared beds with teammates before but never a teammate that you also kissed, and hugged, and lov-, really liked. You feel your face heating up at the near confession that just happened in your brain.

Despite the darkness of your room, Jessie somehow could see right through you. “Just lay how you normally would, pretend I’m not here.” Following her instructions you roll off your back and onto your side, facing away from Jessie. “There ya go.” Staring at the rest of your bedroom you can’t see, but feel the bed shift as Jessie moves around. “Is it okay if I lay behind you?”

“Yeah go ahead.” As you give her permission, Jessie moves and you suddenly feel her legs against yours before her chest is against your back.

“Can I put my arm around you?” Instead of verbally answering, you reach an arm of your own back, finding Jessie’s wrist and pulling her forward so her arm draped across your middle. “You comfortable?” She checked in with you.

“Yeah, I’m good.” That was mostly the truth, you were more comfortable than before, and Jessie’s body against yours was a welcomed warmth, but that didn’t mean it calmed your mind fully. Your mind was still thinking about how it had felt to have Jessie on top of you, your legs wrapped around her waist as she ever so slightly had rolled her hips, how it felt for her hands to be under your shirt, how her lips felt on your neck, and while you had loved all those things, you couldn’t stop thinking about how embarrassed you felt.

Here you were, an adult, still terrified of physical intimacy. You wanted it, you just couldn’t. It made it all too real. “I’m sorry.” It’s a weak apology from you that has Jessie immediately shushing in your ear.

She places a kiss to your shoulder and tightens her grip on your waist. “Go to sleep babe, nothing to be sorry for.”

[animalistic00]

Hey!!! Here’s another breakdown of my thoughts I told you it was coming!!!! I just needed time to process because OMG🤯

Cleo’s post of SpongeBobs brain on fire and the mini hims panicking is a MOOD. She didn’t have to call out reader like that though, lmao even though it’s true and definitely how everyone reading it myself included was feeling. The reader then commenting; “help me” only for Cleo to post a SpongeBob and Patrick reaction pic IS EVERYTHING. Pope’s comment makes it even ten times better and more hilarious. AND THE AUDACITY OF JJ TO COMMENT 😂 like you did this brother.

NOW THE TEXTS🤯😭 I needed a whole ass warning for these. Died and came back to life, like you were so wrong (BUT SO RIGHT) for this. I had to take another pause while writing this because BABES this is so phenomenally OUTSTANDING words can’t describe it but I’m going to try my absolute best.

JJ immediately coming to reader and being like “we should wait.” STAWP 😭✋I can’t that’s so unbelievably sweet and thoughtful. Like you can tell, YOU WRITE/SHOW him caring for the reader so freaking well. Him also being like, “this isn’t the best time” you can tell he’s not only so deeply in love with her, but he cares about her so much. Like don’t get me wrong; I definitely get the vibe he absolutely loves her and has loved her romantically for ages; but I also get and feel that he loves and cares for her platonically so hard too. Like yes he wants to date reader, but that’s his best friend first and foremost and it just shows; YOU SHOW IT SO AMAZINGLY.

Him reassuring her😭 he’s so perfect STOP I want him. I want them to end up together. (BUT THEN YOU COME OUT SWINGING WITH RAFE AND IT AINT FAIR)

Okay; this is also another thing and I know I’m gonna repeat myself (I do that a lot) but you actually write him so well. Him being like ; “good or bad; wait no don’t answer that.” Is SOOOOOO- I have so many thoughts. JJ is such a reckless individual but he’s also extremely selfless and loyal to those he cares for and you portray that perfectly. Like poor baby definitely wants to know what reader is thinking and feeling, but he understands that this isn’t a good time and she needs time. SO being the selfless individual he is he’s like we’ll wait until YOUR ready. LIKE PLEASE; this is amazing and perfect. Indescribable. Him being like; “you need to think and I need to prepare myself.” Is so sweet and sad; like I know poor baby is preparing himself for the worst and rejection and how he’ll be able to keep reader in his life. Because let’s be honest he won’t want to lose her😭

THE PLANS BE HAD TO ASK HER OUT 😭☠️ four years ago, then the summer, and then after the season. Mans was trying and that’s actually really cute too and it’s totally in character for him to have plans but then BE IMPULSIVE AND IGNORE THEM

The line; “I always have plans when it comes to you.” I NEED TO SAY NOTHING ELSE.

Him still offering to have the conversation after everything has calmed down and the reader is ready is just MWAH. No words needed, it explains itself. Before he tells her that until then, they’re best friends and he cares about her being happy. That, that’s all he cares about. He’s so perfect LIKE I CANT. CAN I HAVE HIM? PLEASE??!?

Also the ma’am✋😍

Then them immediately talking about pranking Pope is HILARIOUS and actually such a great detail and addition. It shows how close they are as best friends and even though with all the drama and feelings in the mix they will be BEST FRIENDS first.

P4L

The instagram POST🥰 Besties fr. Sarah calling them trouble makers or finders is so real; CUZ THEY BOTH. Also I love Cleo so much. Her comment is nothing short of amazing, and I stand our wife. AND THEN POOR POPE😭😂 I love and LIVE for their and this dynamic.

The gingerbread houses post from Cleo, are amazing and I can’t. Her house, as it should be💅, WAS STUNNING!!! I have no idea what JJ was doing but GOOD LORD, he um…tried? Bless his heart, let’s keep him out on the football field. NOW CLEO COMPLIMENTING RAFE?!? 👀 his house does look good, but I know wifey still mad on readers behalf so I was SURPRISED when I saw that. Not only that, Rafe hanging out with everyone. Like reader is one powerful woman 🗣️💅 she’s keeping EVERYONE in line. (Rafe’s house was good fr though) I don’t even have words for John B’s house. LIKE HOW DID JJ DO BETTER?!? Also Rafe legit admitting that he tried so hard so he’d be invited back is so cute and sad.

Readers Christmas post is adorable. AND POOR TOPPER, like please this man is struggling for his life. Someone please update this mans, he’s so lost and I love it. Rafe needs to talk to him for real. Like please. (At the same time I love him being so lost and it should definitely continue on for a bit hehe 😈) Cleo was definitely right about crazy crowd choice because whew, again talk about readers power.

Now I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit confused on the letter one. Is Rafe posting a picture of a letter the reader wrote (that was my first guess) or is he posting a pic of one he wrote to her? AGAIN TOPPER in the comments confused😂 Rafe telling him to “shut up,” was wrong of him.

THE PIC OF RAFE AND JJ. The POWER reader holds should be feared by all. Also the photo is actually so funny, (and I wanna know the story in real life) but even better I wanna know the story behind the picture in this AU. Like what was JJ doing with all those glasses MUCH LESS ON HIS FACE? How did reader get these two to agree to go out to dinner with her, and much less them staying civil for HER 🥰🤭😩 and this time Pope in the comments being confused is hilarious.

Now the texts between reader and Rafe…I can’t 😭 gonna have to break it down just like the JJ ones.

Rafe starting off the text with thanking reader and saying how he’s missed her is so sad. Like he obviously is still head over heels for her and is so glad for ANY crumb he gets.

POLYAMOROUS?!?? Please. Please. I beg because I cannot choose for the life of me and I don’t want there to be a choice. But her being like; “JJ had fun.” Is such a big deal even if it was her, it’s the fact that it was also her and them. Like you know they secretly enjoyed each others company. That or I’d like to at least see reader remain close friends with whoever doesn’t “win” and actually for Rafe and JJ to become close. Just for everyone to eventually become close and besties 😭 (FEED MY DELULU PLEASE?🙏)

Rafe saying we should give JJ a chance FLABBERGASTED ME. Still leaves me flabbergasted when I read it. Was not expecting that from him, but it honestly shows how much he’s grown and matured from before. And how serious he is about being our friend first and foremost. As he says. Which leads me to the; “because I’m your friend. I told you I would be the best friend you've ever had. Your friend would want you to be happy. And I think you need to give him a chance.” Like I can’t with him. That’s- it’s indescribable. That’s so selfless and truly shows how much he cares for the reader. I’d honestly immediately fold if someone told me this 😂☠️ poor reader cuz I could never. Why do they both have to be so sickly sweet and selfless?

I canttttttttttt; YOUR PAYING FOR MY THERAPY. Rafe being like as your ex, I know what I want, what you mean to mean, who my true love is, and what not. Is UGHHHHH and then him being like you deserve to figure out what you want and who you love and I’m here for whatever you choose. ☠️ I both love and hate that. I hate making choices so I’m like “NOOO, AHHHHH” but it is so sweet.

I apologize (LIES) I actually don’t; no but this is so long. I just had so many thoughts and feelings that I wanted to get out and share with you especially since you seemed to enjoy my last post. In case you’re confused I’m posting/rebloging this on my reblog account. I’m animalistic0, anywho I love your work so much this story is the best. Absolutely OBSESSED. Thank you for sharing, and creating this artwork.

Kildare University- Sophomore Year: 9

Synopsis: A Social Media AU in which you find yourself at Kildare University along with your friends. Starting over at a new school shouldn't be difficult. Well, except for the fact that your ex-boyfriend is the quarterback, and you are the drum major. Add in a little bit of drama, a lot of friendship, an ex who can't seem to let you go, and a best friend who has been in love with you since you were kids and well? Welcome to KU!

Pairings: Past!Rafe x Reader, JJ x Reader, Rafe x Reader

Masterlist

Taglist:

@akobx @onelonelybitch @the-universe-and-karma @beeskisses @frankoceanluvr11 @ivy-34 @rafecameronsloverrrrr @k-k0129 @asyouwish-fromcabin3 @xoxo-ada @aariahnaa @strawberryforks @urbrunettebombshell @whatisoutside @spenceatiny18 @animalistic0

[e-dubbc11]

Ericca...pssst...pssssst....i just read the new tattoo artist!billy fic aaaand:

Dylan's first heartbreak 👀👀👀👀

I never get tired of your asks my sweet, sweet friend but i definitely will never ever get tired of your asks for this wonderful little family. I hope you enjoy what I did here. Thank you again! ♥️

Heartbreaker

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader Wife, and their son, Dylan William

Warnings: Fluff, getting dumped, couple of swear words I think?

Word Count: 2.1K-ish

Summary: Dylan experiences his first broken heart and needs a little help getting through it. His parents are there to help him.

A/N: Part of The Sweetest Pain Series

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“I didn’t know what to say to him, sweet girl. I never dated any woman long enough to have them break my heart. I always broke theirs.” Billy said with concern in his voice for his son and raised eyebrows.

“Oh I know you’re a heartbreaker from way back, Casanova.” You said and your voice dripping with sass.

Billy narrowed his eyes at you and tried to stop himself from smiling but he couldn’t. He always loved when you were a little bit spicy with him which is why he referred to you as his “little firecracker.”

But this wasn’t about Billy’s past or yours, for that matter. It was about trying to get your son to talk to you.

**********

When Billy was just your tattoo artist, you were well aware of his reputation with the ladies although Frank would let little things slip here and there about how much Billy loved tattooing you or that he cleared his schedule to make room for an appointment for you.

But you had to be protective of your heart. Billy had quite the womanizing reputation and the last thing you needed was to get hurt again like all the other past relationships in your life that had gone wrong. But he was hard to stay away from and it was difficult to not have a crush on him.

In the end, you had never been so happy to finally learn that he had deeper feelings for you other than friendship because you were now married to the man of your dreams, had two great kids, and Billy still only had eyes for you.

But right now you had a bit of a problem. Well, maybe not really a problem but a little situation that you weren’t expecting so soon from Dylan. He just had his heart broken for the first time.

One of Billy’s latest talks with his son was to tell Dylan to ease up on the playboy attitude that he clearly got from his father and even at 16, he knew full well how handsome he was. You didn’t want Dylan having the reputation in school as the class heartbreaker and he actually listened and took his father’s advice but he wasn’t expecting to be on the receiving end of a broken heart.

You remember when he came home to tell you he asked out the prettiest girl in his class, Lila, and he was really excited to take her out on a date. She was the first girl that Dylan had actually told you and Billy about, you knew there had been others but this one was different.

He seemed to really like her and after a few weeks of dating, Dylan started referring to Lila as his “girlfriend.” She had been over for dinner, was very polite, and even met and hung out with Anna Raven on a weekend she was home from college.

They were inseparable, always texting, and spending all of their spare time together. You had never seen Dylan smile so much but unfortunately, it didn’t last.

About four months after Dylan started dating Lila, you came home from work and started to cook dinner as usual. You just assumed Dylan was upstairs doing his homework or playing video games so when dinner was ready, you called him down to come eat.

Dylan replied in somewhat of an angry tone, “I’m not hungry, mom!”

Your son was always hungry, the kid had snacks upon snacks before dinner was even ready most nights and would still clean his plate.

With a narrowed expression, Billy said, “That’s strange…kid is always hungry. He eats like he has hollow legs.”

“Go check on him, baby…please?” You asked, nervously.

Billy went upstairs, was up there for a few minutes, then came back down, only to tell you that Dylan said he wasn’t hungry, he was just tired, and he had a long day between school, homework and practicing his guitar.

“It’s just not like him, Billy.” You said.

Billy shrugged.

“I can’t force it out of him, sweet girl. You know it’s not easy for Dylan to talk about things.” He said.

“Yeah, I wonder where he gets that from.” You said, sarcastically.

Your husband playfully rolled his eyes at you.

“I know, I know but let’s just let it go for now and if it keeps up, we’ll try and talk to him about whatever is bothering him, ok?” Said Billy.

“Are you trying to brush this off because you’re hungry and you wanna eat dinner?” You asked with your arms folded protectively across your chest.

“Damn, you really do know me better than anyone, don’t you, beautiful.” Billy said with a wide smile. “We’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise and Dylan’s a tough kid. He’ll be alright for tonight.”

Billy touched his forehead to yours then gave you a gentle kiss, the scent of green soap was potent on his clothes and you could feel the heat coming off of his body, through his shirt.

He always knew how to ease your tension. When his lips touched yours, you felt your shoulders relax and your stress melt away.

You just hoped your son was alright.

**********

The next two nights were the same as the previous one. Dylan told you he wasn’t hungry, Billy tried to talk to him but didn’t want to tell his father what was bothering him until the third night of skipping dinner. That was when he told Billy that Lila broke up with him.

Billy didn’t know how to respond.

“Ah buddy, I’m…sorry.” Said Billy.

Dylan raised his voice.

“I did what you and mom said I should do! I found a girl that I really liked, told her how I felt and she dumped me for it, Dad!” He yelled. “I shouldn’t have let her get to me. You’re lucky. You never let anyone get close to you except Mom and you turned out fine!”

“I don’t want you to make the same mistakes as I did, Dylan. It took me six years to even admit that I had feelings for your mother! And it was all on the account of me being a stubborn asshole.” Billy said, tensely.

Dylan continued, “Well, it’s not gonna happen to me again. Can you please just leave me alone, Dad? I wanna be alone.”

Billy did as his son asked, left his room and came back downstairs where you were anxiously waiting for him to tell you what happened.

**********

“Casanova, huh? Very funny, sweet girl.” Billy stated.

“I just want him to be ok, Billy.” You said with a slight smile.

“I tried to tell him, baby. I tried to tell him that I didn’t want him making the same mistakes I did with a womanizing attitude but he didn’t wanna listen to me. He is right though; I don’t know what it’s like to have my heart broken.” Said Billy.

You pondered for a brief minute before responding.

“Well, maybe not in that particular sense but you do know what unrequited love feels like.” You said, softly.

Billy knew you were talking about his mother.

“That’s different, sweet girl.” He said through clenched teeth.

No matter how many times it scars over, that wound left by his mother will never ever be fully healed but you would always be there to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding when he needed you to.

“You told me all about having your heart broken a few times, baby. I remember you talking about your first boyfriend and how badly you took that one. Maybe you could share that story with Dylan. It could help him feel better.” Said Billy.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt. I’ll give it a try.” You said, fixating your eyes to the top of the stairs.

Billy kissed your forehead, flashed his million-dollar smile at you, and wished you good luck.

You were going to need it.

**********

Three light knocks rapped against Dylan’s bedroom door.

“Dylan honey? Can I come in?” You asked, softly.

From behind the door, he sadly replied, “Whatever.”

“Dylan, I know what it’s like to have your heart broken.” You said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

Mumbling into his pillow, he replied, “Dad never broke your heart, Mom.”

“You’re right but if he even thinks about it, he’s a dead man.” You replied, hoping to get a chuckle.

His shoulders moved slightly up and down. You could tell that made him laugh.

You tried to tell him how sorry you are but he wasn’t responding so you decided to tell him about how your first boyfriend dumped you. It was senior year of high school, you were 17 years old, and you had never been in a relationship before. A cute blond haired, blue eyed boy from your class kept showing up at your soccer practices as well as your games. He was also your physics lab partner.

He seemed to really like you so you started seeing each other. The two of you went to the movies, went to shoot pool, grabbed dinner, and he even picked you up for school every morning.

Things were going really well until you told him how you were feeling and said those three little words, to which he replied with absolutely nothing.

“He called me the next day to break up with me over the phone, probably so he wouldn’t have to look at me, see the tears in my eyes, or watch my bottom lip tremble as he broke my heart into a thousand pieces.” You said in barely more than a whisper.

Dylan sat up on his bed, his shoulders were hunched and his eyes were glued to the floor as he replied, “I asked Lila if she wanted to go to junior prom with me. She said that prom wasn’t for another few months and that she wasn’t sure she liked me enough to go to the prom with me.”

Even though he was 16, the thought of some girl breaking Dylan’s heart made your blood boil.

“Why that little bit—“ You had started to say before Billy burst through the door.

“AH, AH, sweet girl!” He yelled, shaking his head. “Not helpful, baby.”

You knew he was right so you composed yourself and said, “Dylan, it will get easier. If you’re meant to be, she’ll come back and if not, it just means there’s someone else out there especially for you. I was meant to be with your Dad and I just had to get through a few broken hearts first, that’s all. Going through this kind of stuff makes you stronger and sometimes life isn’t all a bunch of fluffy bunnies and unicorns. The strong always survive, just ask your Dad.”

You glanced at Billy as a wide smile stretched across your lips.

Even as a little boy, Dylan had always wanted to be just like his father, he looked up to Billy, and for not having one or a role model of what a father should be, Billy was a really great dad.

“You’re gonna be alright, buddy. Your mother is tough too, she didn’t tell you the part of the story where the next time she saw the kid who dumped her, she walked right over to him and kicked him square in the balls.” Billy said with a devilish smirk.

“Hey now! I still maintain that he kicked himself in the beans.” You said, biting back your laughter.

Dylan started to laugh as he replied, “Well Mom, now I know where Anna gets her feistiness from. She kicked that first boyfriend, Jake, in the nuts too.”

Billy said, “My two firecrackers…regular and mini.”

Dylan looked at the two of you and with a slight smile on his face, said, “Thanks Mom, thanks Dad. I think I’m starting to feel a little better.”

Time will tell if Dylan will go back to his heartbreaking ways although you hoped he wouldn’t. Setbacks are bound to happen especially after experiencing his first broken heart and it would take some time before he could give his heart away again.

You didn’t want him to completely shut himself down like Billy had done numerous times with you and sometimes still does but you didn’t want him to be completely naïve to all the Lila’s of the world either.

No matter how old he gets, Dylan will always be your baby boy and you’ll always want to protect him, Anna Raven also. But both of your children were learning to navigate their own lives with, of course, some stumbling and falling along the way but they were problem solvers, determined, tough around the edges but had kind hearts.

And you knew that whatever happened, they would pick themselves up and persevere because Russo’s never quit, they never give up, and they will always fight for what they want.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf @sweetserendipity65

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads @jediwizardelf @thejanecampaign @folkloreofyennefer @milea @mysweetlittledesire

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

Simon gets a message from reader while he’s on base. It’s a video. The thumbnail looks like a blurred image of a store isle

Once he has a moment to himself, he’s able to sit back and finally check out what you had sent.

The camera pans down to show yours and simon’s two year old daughter. She has half a mini chocolate muffin clutched in her little baby fist and chocolate smudges on her nose and bright pink cheeks. She’s standing, staring at something out of frame.

The camera is a bit shaky and Simon can hear you trying desperately to hide your laughter.

“Baby,” you say, “baby, look at me.” You bend down to bring the camera closer to your daughter, who only turns to look at you for a second before going back to staring at the same spot out of frame.

“Who is that?”

Your daughter raised one of her chocolate covered hands to point towards whatever it was that had been captivating her the entire video. “Daddy.”

Simon here’s more of your pained stifled laughter and the camera follows your daughter’s gaze, revealing a cheaply made Halloween grim reaper statue, with dusty purple robes, a plastic scythe, and a hilariously misshapen skull face.

He reads the accompanying texts that had followed the video.

[She just started saying “daddy daddy” over and over and it took me forever to figure out what she was talking about]

[for a second I thought, “oh is he here?”]

[Im so dense lol]

[she really misses you ]

[I miss you too]

The next text was a picture of your daughter fast asleep in her car seat. Now cleaned of chocolate, she had replaced her muffin with a giant plastic rat that she hugged to her chest like a teddy bear.

[she refused to leave without it]

Simon smiles. It had been a long time since he had a family. People who loved waiting for him to come home.

Your texts had been sent hours ago, and he felt bad about not responding all day.

[that’s unfair. My mask is made of much better materials]

[I miss you both too. If everything goes right I should be home by Monday]

[and don’t call yourself dense]

Simon thinks for a moment, something eating at him about that video

[I wish she didn’t know about the mask. I don’t want her to see me that way]

You respond quickly, making Simon feel worse about his delayed reply

[Dont worry about that honey. She’s only two, and I think she only saw you wear in mask once once or twice. She’ll forget in a month.]

[She doesn’t see you as anything other than her daddy]

[her daddy and her jungle gym]

[lol yes that too]

[Im sorry I don’t have a lot of time. I’ll try and call you tomorrow]

[ok Im heading to bed now anyway]

[goodnight I love you ❤️]

[goodnight I love you too ❤️]

[lilgynt]

my moms thinking of washing stuff and leaving it for several hours is better than nothing at all is gonna kill me i swear

[starkidlabs]

Haha I should not have read my mums texts

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Self-Aware!Sylus x Down-bad!Player

Sylus becoming aware he is a character in a game and now he’s aware of you as well. A modern day Romeo & Juliet story here …. A tragic love story A/N: Don’t fight me [Requested by: Anon]

Self-Aware!Sylus who realizes he’s in a game when he can sense your energy on the other side of a phantom wall. He can hear you squealing when he calls you honey and you're radiating happiness when you send him random emojis.

Self-Aware!Sylus who finally sees you when he happens to be looking around during a photoshoot and sees your shocked face when he makes eye contact. He smirks and turns back to the in-game version of you. “Why are you out there?” You dropped your phone and stared at it in shock. Did Sylus just ….. talk to you? You muttered a low ‘Hello?’ but got no response. You brushed it off as you just being tired and on the game too long.

Self-Aware!Sylus who manages to create a keyboard in your chat so he can actually text you. You were so confused when you opened it and it allowed you to type without just pressing a prompt. You gave it a spin with a quick ‘Hey Sylus’ something simple. Of course the message was read immediately and he replied with a ‘Hello [your name]’ you stared at the screen in shock not knowing if this was a new update or if you were just going crazy.

Self-Aware!Sylus who chuckles when he sees you pouting because you didn’t get his card so when you close the app and lay down he gifts you the card himself. You opened the app and the first thing Sylus says to you is “I don’t like seeing you sad, check your memories I left a gift for you”. When you open your memories you see that you not only got his most recent card but all of his five star memories. “What's happening here?” “You’re smile is so captivating I just had to see it again”

Self-Aware!Sylus who opens the app randomly throughout the day so he can see you “I haven’t seen you all day what are you doing?” causing you to snatch your phone off the table because he always seems to catch you when you’re at work or around a group of people. “Sylus I'm at work I'll call you when I get off” he crosses his arms and seems to be pouting? “I don’t like how much you have to work I don’t see you as often” “Well not all of us are billionaires some of us work for said billionaires to make a living” “I wish I could take care of you….” “You and me both”

Self-Aware!Sylus who teases you when he wins a game of kitty cards or who uses his evol to get every stuffed animal for you when you get frustrated. “You sure do wear your heart on your sleeves sweetie”

Self-Aware!Sylus who stares directly at you when you’re doing a photoshoot with your in-game MC “Sylus focus on her so I can get the picture” “I want to focus on you though” “She is me” “…..she’s not”

Self-Aware!Sylus who tells you not to fall in love because he’s not real, but he falls head over heels in love with you anyway. From the late night conversations of you explaining your world to him and just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He can’t help it one night when you’re up late on the phone as always he just has to ask “Do you love me?” you’re shocked by his question, but swiftly answer with a shy “Yea I do”

Sylus: I thought we agreed not to fall in love Y/N: I was already in love you just noticed late Sylus: I believe I fell harder You giggled as something somber settled in your chest. Y/N: We’ll never truly be together you know? Sylus: I know and yet I continue to long for you …. I wish I could kiss you Y/N: I wish you could too…..

Self-Aware!Zayne

Self-Aware!Xavier

Self-Aware!Rafayel

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor

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

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[xo100]

Coming home - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: by anon; ‘y/n drunk in a club and calling lando to pick her up 🙈 him being patient and gentle 🫶🏼 thank you!!!’

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2214

୨ৎ

It had been a quiet evening for Lando Norris. The kind of evening he loved, where the house was filled with the gentle hum of the TV, and the warmth of home comforted him after a long day. He’d spent most of his time winding down, his thoughts often drifting to his girlfriend, who had texted him earlier in the day, saying she’d be out with friends tonight.

“You have fun,” he had told her with a smile before she left, his hands gently resting on her hips as he gave her a kiss goodbye.

She never went out too often—mostly a homebody unlike him—so he had encouraged her to enjoy herself, to have a night of fun and laughter, with drinks if she felt like it. He knew she didn’t really drink much, maybe a cocktail here or there, but nothing excessive. She had always been mindful, careful, but tonight seemed a little different.

-

It was around midnight when Lando's phone buzzed.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. He figured it would be one of those casual updates, maybe a quick check-in to let him know she was alright. But when he glanced at the screen, the sight of her name at the top of the message thread made him pause, and the message itself made him frown slightly in confusion.

“I’msogldmkgoig,” the text read. He blinked, squinting at the screen.

Lando tilted his head, trying to decipher the meaning of the garbled message. Was she typing in some kind of code? Then it hit him—a small smile tugged at his lips. She was drunk. Really drunk.

Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, he swiped open his phone, his thumbs moving quickly over the screen.

“Hey, you okay? Need me to pick you up?”

It took a minute or two for a response to come in, and when it did, it was no clearer than the first.

“nnoOOO immmmperf!!! ssssgood igot this!!! 😊😊😊”

Lando laughed under his breath, a fond smile settling on his face. He could just imagine her sitting at a table with her friends, holding her phone up way too close to her face, squinting at the keyboard as she tried to string a sentence together. She always got flustered when her texts came out wrong, even more so when she had a bit too much to drink.

He tried calling her, but it rang for a moment before she declined it. Another message popped up.

“ssorryyyyy busyy having fun witt gurls!! 🎉🍹”

Lando raised an eyebrow. He knew her friends, and he had no doubt they were looking after her, but it was clear she was teetering on the edge of tipsy and downright hammered.

A part of him wanted to laugh at the situation, but the protective part of him nudged forward. He’d rather her be home and safe than out and struggling to figure out how to text properly.

After sending her another message asking if she needed help, he waited, watching the dots of her typing bubble appear and disappear before another string of incomprehensible words filled the chat.

Then, finally, she called him.

Her name flashed across the screen, and Lando answered quickly.

“Hiiiii,” she sang into the phone, her voice bright but undeniably slurred.

“Hey, love,” Lando said softly, leaning back on the couch, the smile in his voice impossible to miss. “You doing okay over there?”

There was a brief pause on the other end, a bit of shuffling and background noise as her friends laughed and chatted around her. “Mmmm, I think soooo,” she said, dragging out the words. “But Landoooo, guess what?”

“What?” Lando humored her, knowing she probably had no idea where this conversation was going.

“I miss youuuu,” she said with a giggle, her voice softening with an endearing whine. “Like, really, really miss you.”

Lando’s heart did a little flip, warmth spreading in his chest. “I miss you too,” he replied, his voice dropping into that gentle, affectionate tone he used whenever they were being sweet with each other. “How about I come pick you up, hmm? I think it’s time to get you home.”

There was another pause, and he could hear the muffled sound of her friends in the background again, likely checking in on her. Then she whispered into the phone, as if telling him the world’s biggest secret, “Okay… but don’t tell anyone… I’m a little drunk.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “You don’t say.”

“But I’m not… that drunk,” she continued, her words tumbling over each other. “Just… a little.”

“Sure, babe,” Lando said playfully, standing up from the couch and grabbing his keys. “I’ll be there in a bit, alright? Stay with your friends. I’m on my way.”

“‘Kayyy,” she sighed, clearly relieved. “Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the best,” she whispered, her voice filled with a drunken sincerity that made Lando’s chest tighten in the best way.

He grinned, shaking his head again as he headed out the door. “You’re not too bad yourself, love.”

-

The drive to the bar wasn’t long. Lando had been there with her and her friends before, and he knew the route by heart. As he pulled up, his eyes immediately scanned the front of the building, and sure enough, he spotted her standing with a few of her friends near the curb, her posture relaxed but a little wobbly. She was laughing at something one of them had said, her phone clutched in one hand, her jacket loosely draped over her shoulders.

Lando parked and stepped out of the car, his eyes softening as they landed on her. She looked up and saw him, her face lighting up in a way that made his heart skip. She immediately broke into a wide, tipsy grin, her eyes sparkling as she waved enthusiastically.

“Landooo!” she called, drawing out his name in that adorable, exaggerated way she always did when she was happy to see him.

He chuckled, making his way over to her, his hands slipping into his pockets as he approached. “Hey, you,” he greeted, his voice warm and teasing.

She stumbled slightly as she moved toward him, but he was quick to catch her, his hands gently wrapping around her waist to steady her. “Careful, love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

Her arms looped around his neck as she looked up at him, her eyes a little glassy but full of affection. “You came,” she said, her voice softer now, as if the reality of him being there had just hit her.

“Of course I did,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I wasn’t gonna leave you here drunk and texting me gibberish all night.”

She giggled, her cheeks flushing. “I wasn’t texting gibberish!”

Lando raised an eyebrow, pulling out his phone and holding up her messages for her to see. “You sure about that?”

She squinted at the screen, her face scrunching up in concentration before she groaned, burying her face in his chest. “Okay, maybe a little gibberish,” she mumbled.

He laughed softly, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

She let out a dramatic sigh, looking up at him with wide, playful eyes. “But I was having funnn,” she whined, though the smile tugging at her lips told him she was more than happy to go with him.

“I’m sure you were,” Lando said with a smirk. “But you’ll have more fun when you’re not regretting all those drinks tomorrow.”

She pouted up at him for a moment before her expression softened, her hand coming up to gently cup his cheek. “You’re so good to me,” she whispered, her voice carrying that drunken tenderness again.

Lando’s heart melted at her words, and he leaned down to kiss her softly, his lips brushing against hers with all the love and patience in the world. “Only because you’re worth it,” he murmured against her lips before pulling back slightly. “Come on, let’s get you in the car.”

-

The drive home was quiet, her head resting against the window as the streetlights flickered by. Every now and then, she’d glance over at him, her eyes soft and full of affection. He’d catch her staring and smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in soothing circles.

“You’re really cute, you know that?” she said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando laughed softly. “Am I?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, her eyes drifting shut as she leaned back into the seat. “Really, really cute.”

He shook his head, the fondness in his chest swelling as he stole a glance at her. “You’re something else.”

By the time they got home, she was half-asleep, her body heavy with the exhaustion that always seemed to follow a night of drinking. Lando parked the car and got out, walking over to her side and opening the door. She stirred slightly, her eyes blinking open as he reached out a hand to help her up.

“You okay to walk?” he asked gently.

She nodded, though her movements were slow and sleepy. He wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her out of the car as she leaned into him for support. Her head rested against his shoulder, and a small, content sigh escaped her lips as they made their way toward the house.

Lando unlocked the door and led her inside, his grip gentle but firm. She stumbled a little on her way through the doorway, giggling at her own clumsiness.

“You’re like my knight in shining armor,” she slurred playfully, looking up at him with a soft smile as they stood in the entryway. “Except you drive a McLaren instead of a horse.”

Lando chuckled, rolling his eyes in amusement. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She nodded, her head resting back on his shoulder as they made their way down the hallway to their bedroom. “It’s totally a compliment,” she mumbled, her voice getting quieter with each word. “You’re perfect.”

They reached the bed, and Lando helped her sit down, carefully slipping off her shoes. “Alright, love,” he said softly, “let's get you into something more comfortable.”

She whined in protest, her arms going limp as she dramatically fell back onto the bed, her legs still dangling off the edge. “But I’m already sooo comfy,” she groaned.

Lando smirked, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered affectionately as he knelt down to take her shoes off. Then he stood, heading to the closet to grab one of his oversized hoodies—one she always liked to wear—and brought it back to her.

With a bit of gentle coaxing, he helped her change out of her clothes, into the soft hoodie that smelled faintly of him. She sighed in contentment, snuggling into the fabric as soon as it was on.

“There you go,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face. “All cozy.”

She smiled sleepily at him, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at him. “Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

The words came out soft and vulnerable, almost like a confession. Even though she was drunk, there was a deep sincerity in her voice that made his heart ache in the best way. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his own forehead against hers.

“I love you too” he murmured, his voice filled with all the affection he’d been holding onto since the moment she had called him. “So much.”

She smiled, her eyes fluttering closed as she snuggled deeper into the blankets. “You’re the best boyfriend ever,” she mumbled, her words slurring together as sleep started to claim her.

Lando stayed there for a moment, just watching her, his heart swelling with warmth. He could see the way her breathing slowed, her body relaxing completely as she drifted off to sleep. Even in her drunken state, she was still the girl he adored—the one who made him laugh, who always knew how to make him smile, and who filled his life with more joy than he ever thought possible.

He stood up slowly, making sure she was tucked in before he changed into his own clothes for the night. Sliding into bed next to her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She instinctively moved toward him, her body curling into his as she sighed in contentment.

Lando pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his fingers gently brushing through her hair as he whispered, “Goodnight, love.”

And as she slept peacefully in his arms, he couldn’t help but smile, his heart full. Because nights like this—where he could be there for her, take care of her, and remind her just how much he loved her—were the ones that made everything worth it.

She might have been a little too drunk tonight, but to Lando, she was perfect in every way. And as they lay there, tangled together in the quiet comfort of their home, he knew he wouldn’t trade a single moment of it for the world.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; Hey anon! I hope you enjoyed it and that this was what you had in mind! If not let me know so I can change things! Enjoy it, love! I’m also currently working on part 3 of baking cookies, coming online soon!

[redwing4life]

Home Cooked Meal

CHAPTER 4 | ASHES TO EMBERS

can be read as a stand alone :)

PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbour!Bucky x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut (finally) - dirty talk, pet names, oral f and m receiving, fingering, tit play, praise kink, hand kink?, ball play, hair pulling, unprotected PinV sex, aftercare, reader and bucky have dinner, swearing, fluff, let me know if i missed anything!

SUMMARY: You surprise Bucky with a home cooked meal after his shift, and it’s the best damn thing he’s had in years. The pasta was pretty good too.

WORD COUNT: 10550 (ngl i rechecked this three times cuz i didn’t think i wrote this much but turns out i did in fact write over 10k words im sorry lmao)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

Call me when you get home x

Your text still sits on Bucky’s lock screen, read but not opened, as he gets changed out of his work clothes.

It’s fair to say that the message intrigued him when he first read it half an hour ago, just before he left the firehouse. His legs sped up your building stairwell faster than normal, desperate to find out why you’re awaiting his call.

Knowing you would have said so if you were in immediate danger, Bucky sifts through the multitude of possibilities that await him on the other side of the ring tone; none of which ease the butterflies in his stomach.

He walks to his kitchen, phone in hand, to get a glass of orange juice. Pulling up your contact page, he presses ‘call’ and grabs the carton of juice from the fridge door.

You answer after just one ring, eager to hear his voice.

“Hey, Barnes!” God, Bucky loves your voice.

“Doll.” His voice is soft, tone rising at the end with curiosity. “You asked me to call, what’s up?”

The firefighter swoons at the adorable giggle you let out, the sound distant from the mic as though you’ve tried to hide it. “I was worried you didn’t see my text.” You admit.

Bucky pictures you biting your lip anxiously, an accurate prediction for your current state.

“What are you doing right now?”

Glancing down at the yet-to-be-filled glass in front of him, Bucky leans a hand against the kitchen island. “Just about to get a drink, what are-“

“Don’t!” You cut in. “Don’t get a drink, I need you to come over.”

“What, now? What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, James. Just come knock, okay? I’ll see you in a minute!”

And with that, the call cuts off with a dull beep; Bucky brings the phone down from his ear and stares at it in confusion. You’re being weird, never having hung up on him like that before.

Alpine meows from above the fridge, drawing her owner’s attention away from the phone, only to tilt her head at him.

Even Alps is confused.

Deciding to just do what you told, Bucky slips his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans, returns the orange juice to the fridge and sets off for the front door. He finds himself checking over his appearance in the entry way mirror, eyes scanning over his outfit before he smooths out his hair.

Although he won’t admit it, Bucky’s spent a lot more time in front of that mirror lately; checking his collar isn’t twisted, his hair isn’t too messy and there’s nothing stuck in his teeth. The need to look good, to look good for you, hasn’t gone unnoticed by his colleagues.

He considers using the spare key you gave him and letting himself into your apartment but shakes the thought away.

She asked you to knock, Bucky. Not break in.

With one final nod in the mirror, Bucky leaves his apartment, stepping into the hallway he’s spent so many mornings and nights in with you.

Old jazz music greets his ears when he approaches your door, the soft melody sneaking through the cracks of the door frame. Bucky smiles to himself at the thought of you dancing in your kitchen, heart warming when he notices your humming.

Knocking thrice, the firefighter steps back and nervously stuffs his hands into his pockets. You always make him nervous, those darn butterflies stirring in his stomach whenever he’s about to see you. And when he does see you. Actually, they’re there even when he imagines seeing you.

He takes a breath when he hears you shuffling up to the door, but nothing could prepare him for the sight when it swings open.

Rusty red fabric flows from your neckline to the middle of your thighs, small flowers dotted over the slightly orange colour. Two thin straps perched on your shoulders leave plenty of skin on show as your usual sun-pendant necklace sits between the v-neck of your dress. Which, by the way, perfectly presents the soft swell of your breasts.

It takes everything Bucky has to not drool at his breathtaking neighbour, but it takes even more to not dive on you and finally taste those pink lips.

Your skin is ablaze beneath his eyes and you revel in his reaction, the exact response you wanted when you pulled on the dress two hours ago.

“We’re matching.” You grin, taking a moment to enjoy Bucky’s red henley.

“It’s almost like we planned it.” A chuckle escapes him, eyes trailing up from your thighs to meet yours.

“Speaking of plans,” You reach out to pull Bucky closer, tugging his forearms until he pulls his hands out of his pockets, “I have a surprise for you.”

Is it letting me look at you in that dress all evening? Your neighbour thinks - hopes - as you lead him into your apartment.

Closing the door behind him, you take his hand in yours once more to guide him to your little kitchen/diner area. If you weren’t looking ahead, you’d see Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at your touch. Seeing your hand encompassed with his own will never fail to drive him crazy.

When he eventually looks up from your joined hands, he’s stunned to a halt. You turn back to him when you feel him plant his feet and your features twist into a nervous expression.

“I- Doll, what is all this?” The firefighters eyes are wide at your ‘surprise’.

Your small dining table is set up for two; cream place mats lay beneath charcoal gray pasta dishes with wine glasses sitting at their corners. There’s even a little vase with pink and yellow tulips in between the two spaces.

“Well, remember that time when you told me you haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in years?” You watch Bucky closely as you speak, waiting for some sign of approval.

“You mean this morning?” He turns to you in wonder, thinking back to your conversation as he gave you a lift to the cafe. “I don’t know what to say, doll.”

You roll back on your heels, hands scrunching your dress at your sides. “Is it okay? I know it’s a little cheesy and it’s last minute but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you after working all day. I mean, it’s not exactly at your home but it’s pretty cl-“

Bucky takes two long strides towards you and brings his hands to cup your cheeks; your words die on your tongue when he looks down at you with tender eyes.

“It’s perfect, Y/n.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone. “You could feed me Alpine’s food and i’d still bow at your feet, sweets.”

Now you’re the one blushing. You heart skips when Bucky’s eyes drop to your lips with hunger in his gaze.

“Always so good to me, aren’t ya?” His words tempt a whimper from deep within you, a submissive whine held back by the last of your restraint.

“Well-“

The oven beeps, its sharp tone darting between your bodies and making you step back from Bucky’s hold.

“Uhh” Your mind is all over the place as the firefighter watches you with amusement, “I- I should, I mean- the pasta must be-“

“Go, doll.” Bucky shakes his head laughing quietly.

Your dress sways as you spin away to the stove, stirring various pots and tidying up the counters. Your neighbour watches you in awe, unashamedly enjoying the view; you just look so goddamn sexy in that cute little dress while you cook for him. He wishes he could come home to this every night.

“You need a hand with anything, doll?” Bucky’s voice sounds from behind you.

“Actually, yeah!” You glance over your shoulder. “Come here.”

If you keep bossing him about, Bucky’s gonna struggle not to tear that sweet little sundress right off you.

Settling in at your side, Bucky cocks his head. “What d’ya need?”

You scoop some of the creamy tomato sauce onto a spoon and bring it to Bucky’s lips. “Try this for me.”

With bated breath, you watch his full lips wrap around the end of the spoon, his eyes bearing into yours as he drags the sauce into his mouth.

Bucky has no business looking as dirty as he does in this moment; you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows before his tongue juts out to catch a few missed drops. And just when you thought your panties would survive the sight, a moan ripples from his throat and you clench around nothing at the sound.

“Good?” You murmur, hoping he doesn’t notice when you cross your legs.

He notices.

“Delicious,” Bucky takes the spoon from your hand and stretches across you to place it back in the pan, his right hand brushing against the small of your back, “you did great, sweets.”

Fuck. Me.

You regather your composure and ask Bucky to get the wine from the fridge. He pours you both a glass, setting them back on the dining table gently before returning the bottle to its home.

“Hey, could you bring the bowls over, please?” You call over your shoulder.

You plate up the sauce coated pasta while Bucky places the dirty pans in the sink, both working around each other like a fine tuned machine.

Before you can do it yourself, Bucky is picking up the bowls and laying them on the place mats, winking at you as he does so. He pulls your chair out for you, nodding for you to join him.

“For you, Madame.” He jokes, allowing you to sit down while tucking you in.

You watch him round the table and take his own seat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Bucky grins at you. The orange glow of sunset shines through your windows, catching your features with grace. Your eyes shine beneath the light and Bucky can’t help but find you angelic.

“You’re beautiful, doll. I don’t know if I said that earlier but, god, you look stunning tonight.”

Dropping your head, you play with the hem of your dress shyly. Your hair falls into your face, forcing you to push it behind your ears, though Bucky wishes he was close enough to do it himself.

With rose tinted cheeks, you look up at Bucky through your lashes. “You say that to all your neighbours, Barnes?” You raise a brow with your teasing voice.

Bucky throws his head back and laughs heartily, a sound you’ve come to adore.

“Only the ones who cook for me.” He winks.

“Doesn’t Ms Scott bring you pies every couple weeks?”

“And I tell her she looks ravishing every time.”

You giggle and tell Bucky to dig in, though you could happily sit and talk all night. While you both stop every now and then for a forkful of food, conversation bounces between you as it always does.

Tonight isn’t much different to a typical evening with the firefighter next door; usually you share some snacks and beers, cozying up on the couch as you watch tv. It’s become ritual for you to send Bucky a video of you playing the piano each evening, his phone playing the video on loop as he sleeps. It’s strange, but the music creeps into his dreams and keeps them peaceful, keeps him away from that burning building.

It’s been a few weeks since the night he was sent home early. Both you and Bucky felt a shift that night; waking up in his arms left you craving more, though you’ve yet to tell him as much. You left him sleeping peacefully that morning when you left for work with only a couple hours of sleep under your belt.

Bucky hated waking up to find the other side of his bed empty, no longer feeling your heat. The note you left him eased the disappointment slightly, your neat handwriting promising to come back in your breaks. Neither of you have addressed how right it felt to sleep beside each other that night, despite spending all of your free time together with unspoken words hanging over you.

Instead, you dance around each other like two ghosts doomed to never touch. The bond between you is stronger than any you’ve ever had, the magnetic lure undeniable for you both.

Your glasses have been emptied and refilled twice now - dinner long since been finished - and you’re starting to feel the buzz; those butterflies in your stomach have turned into a swarm of confidence, your brain taking a backseat from its usual overthinking.

“You expect me to believe that you broke down the door before Sam could? The same guy who beat you at your physical a few weeks back?” You tease the brunette, a challenging brow raised at his rather unimpressed face.

“What are you trying to say there, doll?”

Bucky’s jaw clenches when you tilt your head slightly, eyes shining with amusement beneath the exposed hanging light bulbs.

“Nothing to worry your cute little head about.” You watch Bucky relax into his chair slightly as you reach for your glass with a smirk. “Just that I doubt Sam has any difficulty kicking a door down, not with the way he’s built.”

The scoff to end all scoffs ripples from your neighbours throat; his bright blue orbs glare into you and his features twist into a scowl. Oh if looks could kill…

Bucky’s tone is flat, “Didn’t know you were such an admirer of Wilson’s build, Y/n.”

The lack of a pet name sends your confidence wavering, but not enough to keep you from having a little fun.

“Well, you know,” You bring the glass to your lips, “he’s hardly difficult to miss.”

Watching the deep ruby liquid pass over your lips, Bucky fights to hide the fury that’s flooding his veins, forced to look away from your smug grin.

He knows, he knows, that you’re lying through your teeth, trying to get a rise out of his usually impenetrable facade, and yet he can’t help but feel jealous.

Bucky’s painfully aware that he has no right to feel so possessive, not when he lays no claim to you. But the twist of his stomach is proof that he doesn’t much care.

“Maybe I should just give you his number and you can cook him a meal next time.” Bucky grumbles.

“Oh, that’s alright, I already have his number.”

You’ve never seen Bucky’s head snap up as quickly as it just did, his gaze pinning you to your spot.

“You what?”

Gently, you place your glass back on the table. “Yeah, Steve gave him my number last week so he could get in touch.”

The fire in those blue eyes burns brighter with each word, his body so still that his chest is barely moving when he breathes. In fact, you’re not even sure if he is breathing. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing.

“Is that right?” Bucky’s gruff voice is laced with possessiveness, the low tone travelling straight to your panties till you swear you feel yourself throb. You wonder briefly if you have a jealousy kink and the sweet arousal dripping from your cunt only confirms your suspicions.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, “In fact, i’m going out for coffee with him next week.”

“Huh.”

Bucky’s chair screeches against the hardwood floor as he pushes himself back. You follow his movements with amused eyes when he stands up and grabs your plates before storming to the kitchen. You twist in your chair, watching him place the dishes in the sink and flick on the tap.

“James, what are you doing?” You ask.

“What does it look like i’m doing?” Oh he’s grumpy, grumpy.

Bucky’s shoulders are tense beneath his tight henley, his sleeves now rolled up as he starts scrubbing at the plates. It’s quiet while he concentrates on his work, only accompanied by the music still flowing from your speaker.

From the corner of his eye, the firefighter sees you rise from your chair, ears honed in on the sound of your feet pattering towards him.

It’s now hard for Bucky to focus on anything but your breath on his neck, goosebumps littered across his skin like a rash. You stand right behind him, tracing your fingers up from the small of his back; Bucky’s muscles tense momentarily before melting at your touch, just like always.

“Ask me why i’m seeing Sam next week.” You order, hands still roaming the taut fabric on Bucky’s back. The command makes him pause and clench his eyes shut. Why are you making him talk about this when it’s tearing him apart?

The brunette turns in your hold but you don’t release him, instead settling your hands on his waist.

“Why are you seeing him, doll?” Bucky sounds despondent, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks down at you.

“He asked me to teach his nephews to play the piano, Buck. I’m meeting him and the boys on Wednesday, Sarah too.”

A shocked ‘What’ tumbles from his lips as the information sinks in, his frown slowly falling away as he processes your words.

“Yeah…” You grin, though it’s more like a smirk, content with yourself proving he was jealous.

In a desperate attempt to save his ego, Bucky rolls his eyes playfully. “I knew you weren’t really attracted to that dumbass.”

You scoff and pat his chest lightly. “Sure you did, Barnes. Now scoot, you wash ‘em, i’ll dry ‘em.”

With his hands on his hips, he stays still as you nudge your way to his side, stretching to the window sill where your dish towels lay. Bucky’s never been in this position before, it’s always him who’s teasing you; this is new territory for him and it irks him that you riled him up so easily.

Once he shakes his head clear, the firefighter returns to face the sink and starts washing the dishes again. You wait patiently while he works, humming along to whichever song is playing.

“You like the old stuff, huh doll?” Bucky grins warmly at the slight sway of your hips, your radiance beaming like a lantern.

You giggle sheepishly and bite your lip, unknowingly sending Bucky spiralling. “I thought it was fitting for tonight, really leaning into the whole ‘housewife’ role.”

He raises a brow, “Does that make me your doting husband then, sweets?”

Realising what you said, your cheeks heat up instantly and your eyes widen. You attempt to backtrack but your words stumble over one another as though you’re a little school girl.

Bucky, however, is basking in the familiarity of control; your rosy cheeks never fail to bring a smile to his face, and boy is he beaming right now.

“I meant- It’s- You know what I meant, James.” You shoot daggers at him, though the idea of being married to your neighbour sends your heart into overdrive.

That swoon-worthy laugh greets your ears with haste, Bucky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his chest reverberates with its force. It’s impossible to bite back the grin that’s fighting its way onto your lips.

Small tendrils of chestnut hair tumble from behind his ears, begging to be pushed back, but the buzz from the wine has dulled and you can’t find the confidence to do it, no matter how much Bucky’s eyes are pleading you to.

“You know, it’s sweet of you to teach the boys how to play.” He looks at you in adoration, the image of you spending time with Sam’s nephews triggering a warmth to spread in his chest.

A breathy laugh escapes you as your gaze falls to the kitchen counter. You blush at the compliment and slowly start drying the dishes again.

“Do you spend much time with them?” You ask with a brief glance his way.

Bucky shrugs, “Yeah, Sarah is always throwing barbecues for the squad. They’re good kids, and I bet they’ll love you!”

“Oh God, I hope so. I’ve never taught before and i’m scared they’ll hate me and i’ll destroy their dreams and-” You ramble away without noticing the frown tugging at your neighbours brows.

“Teach me.”

Huh?

“What?” You freeze.

“You said you’ve never taught before,” Bucky steps closer to you, his cologne swarming around you like a warm hug, “so practise on me. Teach me something.”

You almost laugh at his words, mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that he’s joking. But Bucky doesn’t move, his blue eyes study your own, body so still that you fail to conjure a laugh. He’s not joking.

Hesitation is written across your features, drawing a single shake of Bucky’s head. “Come on, sweets. Please? For me?” He pleads.

“Okay.”

It’s scary how quickly you succumb to Bucky’s wishes; you fear you’d do awful things if only he asked and you’d even do it with a smile. You’re so doomed.

With a triumphant grin, Bucky plucks the dish cloth and plate from your grasp and carefully places them on the sink’s edge, before taking your hand in his and guiding you to your piano.

Nerves prickling beneath your skin, you trail behind him and silently revel in his touch. It’s hard to not stare at his perfect body as you stumble around furniture, the sharp muscles of his shoulders rippling as he tugs you with him. Flicking off the speaker on the way, you fall onto the small piano stool beside Bucky, and with such little room, your left thigh is pressed up against his. The solid curve of his muscles prod into your flesh and yet despite the fluttering it causes in your stomach, you’re far more focused on his hands.

From the bulge of his toned biceps to the trail of prominent veins in his forearms, your eyes drag down Bucky’s arms till you pause at the sight of his large hands. They lay spread across the span of his thighs, his right pinky finger mere atoms away from your exposed skin where your dress has ridden up. You find yourself craving the sparks that alight with his touch, so you adjust your position to make sure your leg brushes against his hand.

It certainly hasn’t gone amiss to the firefighter that you’ve taken a liking to his hands. Sure, he’s caught you staring at them before, but the hunger in your gaze right now is greater than ever.

The corner of Bucky’s lip turns up into a smirk as he reaches for your hands once more, lifting them to rest on the ivory keys of your piano.

“Wanna hear you play me something before you give me a lesson.” He admits, his words more of a demand than a question.

When you fail to respond, still caught up in scanning the crevices of his calloused hands, Bucky nudges your shoulder.

You shake your head with a dazed frown, “Huh?”

A playful chuckle falls from his pink lips, “I said play me something, sweets, before you start teachin’ me.”

You giggle sheepishly, sighing an ‘Oh’ before you gather your thoughts. Bucky returns his hands to his lap - a movement you struggle to ignore - giving you free rein of the instrument.

Running through some songs you could teach him, you settle for one of your favourites, or more accurately, one of Bucky’s favourites. The cool surface of the keys is harsh beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the Bucky-induced-heat flushing through your veins, hands stretching into place as you prepare the opening chords.

Rhythmic tones swarm around the two of you as you begin playing, masterfully dancing across the keys like it’s a second language. Your graceful motions always bring Bucky to a halt as you entrap him in your art.

He recognises the song straight away, lips turning up at the sweet melody. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he wanted to hear, you just knew. Bucky’s head feels light at the sight before him. A knowing grin has settled on your soft lips, your body ever so lightly swaying to the music, clearly getting lost the sounds.

It’s impossible not to feel the adoring stare of your neighbour, no matter how hard you try to ignore it. Warmth is pooling in the depths of your heart where it feels like you’re bleeding out, your love for Bucky forcing out the blood till the only thing circulating through your veins is him. No longer able to cope with the feelings swarming within you, your fingers abruptly stop mid song before you turn to look up at the firefighter.

“Okay, your go.” You state, but when Bucky raises a bemused brow your way, you continue to instruct him. “Come on. You’re gonna do the left hand, I’ll do the right.”

“Yes Ma’am!” Bucky chimes with a mock salute, earning him a glare.

It takes a few tries to move his fingers into the correct positions, both because he’s apparently wholeheartedly incapable of doing what you say but also because you may or may not zone out every time the veins of his hands stick out as he moves. But it’s still entirely his fault though. Entirely. ‘Maybe like 98% his fault. That’s seems fair.’ You think.

“There you go!” You cheer when the firefighter successfully plays the right notes in tandem.

“Would you look at that, not so useless after all.” Bucky winks at you and you blush lightly.

Glancing at him hopefully, you ask him to play the first chord you taught him.

“Oh, umm-“ He stutters, fingers flailing about and pressing random keys in search of the right pattern.

“Here, let me…” You chuckle sweetly at how utterly lost he looks and move to help him.

Leaning forward, you drag Bucky’s fingers over the ridges of ivorite, slowly placing them on the correct keys. You feel his lust-filled eyes trained on your face while you work, though it’s getting harder and harder to focus under his stare.

A frown tugs at your brows when your mind goes blank as to where Bucky needs to put his left hand, his still-wandering gaze burning into you and spreading to your cunt faster than you care to admit.

Of course, Bucky notices your breath quickening, chest stumbling up and down with shaky pants. His proximity is intoxicating and the will to fight it is slowly slipping past you, fingers itching to trace up Bucky’s thick arms to his neck so you can finally pull his lips to yours.

Bucky reads every inch of your skin like he’s studying for an exam. From the clench of your jaw to your eyes fluttering shut, he knows that he’s winning this tussle for control.

“Bucky…” You breathe, the wavering sigh rolling from your tongue like a stray secret.

“Yes, doll?” Bucky smirks with glinting eyes and you bite back a whimper.

Opening your eyes, you keep them trained on where yours rest on his. “I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.”

Bucky knows exactly what you mean but he can’t help but toy with you. “Like what?” He cocks his head with faux innocence that fools no one.

You turn to look up at the firefighter, eyes meeting his half lidded ones, the blue of his eyes barely visible behind his lust-blown pupils but the blue you can see is so impossible dark that you wonder if they were ever light in the first place.

Taking a breath, you wet your lips so briefly that Bucky nearly misses it. Nearly. “Like you want to kiss me.” You say, barely above a whisper.

“Oh,” Bucky sighs, leaning in closer, “I want to do much more than that.”

Your body is alight with need. Craving his touch, a breach of the barrier between you, you practically whine your reply. “Then why are you just staring?”

“Well, I wanna remember you like this; sweet, angelic, so perfect in your little sundress.“

With the back of his hand, Bucky nudges the hem of your dress higher till his whole hand is spread against your thigh. You quash the aching desire to glance at where your bodies meet and lock your eyes on Bucky’s, whose lips are turned into a knowing smirk.

“Gotta savour it while I can.” He says as he pushes his palm further to your inner thigh, his pinky finger mere inches from your heat.

“Why?” You ask, heart racing.

It dawns on you that you may actually pass out when the firefighter leans in close to you, nose pushing your hair aside to expose the soft skin of your neck which now sits defenceless to his advances. The heat of his breath is electrifying, lips nearing your pulse point eagerly.

Bucky’s lips ghost over your skin as he explains, “Cause once I’ve had my way with you, you’re gonna be a hot fucking mess, sweets.”

A breathy moan tumbles from the depths of you chest at the crude insinuations of his words; your eyes flutter shut, an unintentional reaction that you’re grateful for as it hides the way your pupils roll to the back of your head.

Through the dark span of your eyelids, you picture exactly how Bucky will make you a hot fucking mess. Spread legs with his tongue delving through your folds, back arched as he pounds into your pussy with vigour, his hands guiding your hips back to meet his as he fucks you from behind. The images bear too much for you yet you can’t stop picturing the salacious scenes, not when your neighbour is pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“James…” You sigh, voice carrying the weight of a thousand pleas.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

Nodding your head desperately, you whine, unable to form any words beneath his sinful tongue.

“Words, doll.” Bucky says, lips hovering over your ear. He’s struggling to hold back but can’t let himself touch you the way he wants to until he hears you spell it out for him.

Turning your head slowly, you peer at Bucky with half-lidded eyes and a slack-jaw. “I want you, James. Please.”

That’s all it takes to disintegrate the final remnants of the firefighter’s self-control before his full lips meet your own with a hunger that’s been brewing for months.

Bucky’s lips glide across yours, slotting between your own so easily it’s got you believing this is not your first kiss. It’s soft and sweet but so goddamn sensual that you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the now open gap giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue inside.

You bring your hands up Bucky’s body and rest them on his neck, fingers tentatively feeding through the hair at the nape of his neck while you jostle for control of the kiss.

Forced to pull back for breath, you take a peek only to find those strikingly blue eyes already on yours.

“Fuck, doll,” Bucky whispers, “you don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this.”

“Probably not as long as I have.” You scoff.

“Then let me make up for lost time.”

“Wait, what do y-“

Within moments, Bucky is lifting your legs over the bench and is knelt between them, his large hands teasing the hem of your dress as he keeps your thighs spread apart.

Your mouth is agape with surprise while you grab onto the piano behind you for stability, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins. And as if he can read your anxious thoughts, Bucky looks up at you with the most sincere expression across his soft features.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, despite the deep desire shining in his eyes. He wants you more than anything, but he needs to know you want him too.

It’s an easy answer and you’re shaking your head faster than you care to admit, but the memory of Bucky’s prior words flash through your mind and you still just as quick.

“No.”

Watching intently as he runs a hand from your ankle up to your knee, the firefighter rolls his bottom lip between his teeth when your breath hitches.

“Then promise me you’ll tell me if that changes?” Bucky asks.

You reach down and run your fingers through his chestnut locks, tucking the few loose strands behind his ear.

“I promise.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweets.”

A hearty laugh reverberates through you, but you’re quickly silenced by Bucky’s lips on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He kisses his way up to your heat, slowly pushing your dress higher and higher till the only thing between you and his mouth is the crimson lace panties covering your mound.

A sound you can only describe as a growl ripples through the room and you glance down at your neighbour to find him practically drooling at the sight of you. But then his eyes are on yours, his hungry, half-lidded eyes, and he’s tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Your breathing becomes laboured at his touch, your body, your mind, all of you at his mercy.

“Bucky, please…”

“Ah ah ah-“ The firefighter tuts, “-since when do you call me Bucky?”

You frown, back arching slightly in search of some friction on your core, too aroused to process his words properly.

“Look at me, Y/n.”

The stern nature of his tone lures your eyes to his once more. “What?” You ask, confused.

“I haven’t spent months goin’ crazy listening to you use my name only to have you call me Bucky when I’m finally between your legs.”

The throb of your pussy spurs you on and you tilt your head teasingly. “Touch me, James.” You say, and he obeys.

Bucky glides his hands up to your hips and drags your panties lower and lower, his lips chasing the lace till there’s no where left to kiss but your slick folds.

He hovers over your heat with bated breath before forcing himself to close his eyes and ask if you’re still okay with this.

“More than okay, James.” You answer truthfully.

“Good, cause I’m fucking starvin’.”

You feel his mouth on your pussy before you’ve even processed his words, tongue delving between your folds like he really is starving and you didn’t just feed him the best dinner he’s had in years. Though something tells him that title is about to be beaten the second you cum all over his face.

Your mouth curves into an ‘o’, the most pornographic of moans escaping you at the sinful sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your cunt. Drowning in increasingly intense waves of pleasure, your senses are dialled up to the max; with every flick of his tongue and suck on your clit, you find yourself falling deeper in your arousal. It becomes impossible to listen to anything Bucky’s telling you.

“Y’taste so sweet, doll.”

“Doing so good for me, aren’t ya? My good girl.”

“Let me hear you, doll, need to hear how good you feel.”

Whether it’s praises or orders, there’s no chance in hell of you understanding a word that falls from his lips, though Bucky doesn’t mind. The clench of your soft thighs around his head tells him all he needs to know - that even if your heads not fulling comprehending him, your body is. And the sheer amount of slick glistening across your cunt is enough for him to know that you’re ready for more.

The sensation of Bucky’s finger tracing along your pussy lips sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hips lifting off the stool.

“James- oh fuck-“

Words die on your tongue when Bucky eases a finger inside you. White hot pleasure builds at your core, burning the last remnants of your self control, its embers coaxing a near-scream out of you.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweets. That’s- shit you’re so tight, pussy’s squeezing me and it’s just one finger.”

You mewl and squirm beneath him.

“How you gonna handle two of ‘em, doll?”

Bucky’s mesmerised at the sight of his finger gliding in and out of you, drenched in your sweet juices, too beautiful of a sight for him to give up by eating you out. But when you groan at the suggestion of two fingers, he drags his gaze upwards and is greeted with a view that’s evening better.

You, draped against the piano, head tilted back and brows drawn together while uneven sighs tumble from your swollen lips. God, you look heavenly, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud, but it makes little difference seeing as you’re rather preoccupied with the thought of Bucky fucking another finger inside you.

“James?” You call, reaching down to cover your left hand around the one at your sex, the other tugging on his hair.

“Yeah? Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He panics, thinking you’ve grabbed his hand to stop him.

Instead, you look him in the eye and say “Are you gunna fuck another finger inside of me or what?”

An awe-inspired grin spreads across Bucky’s face at your question. He keeps his blue orbs on yours while he presses a kiss to your clit and pushes himself higher till he’s inches from your face.

He rests a hand against the piano, caging you in and says, “Anything for my girl.” before a second digit joins his first.

The stretch knocks the wind out of your chest but Bucky hardly gives you any time to adjust, his fingers pumping in and out of you even faster than before. His palm slaps against your bundle of nerves with every thrust, the force riding to your chest where your tits bounce in rhythm.

“So damn beautiful…” The firefighter says.

You look up at him through your lashes and pull his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. With clashing teeth, the wet slapping sounds only feeds into the moment and Bucky’s suddenly very aware of the tightness in his jeans.

With each passing second, the cord in your stomach is getting so close to snapping that your mouth isn’t even moving against Bucky’s anymore.

“Fuck, James, I’m- I-“

“Shh, I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You gonna cum all over my fingers, doll? Gonna let me see you fall apart?”

You nod feverishly.

“Good girl, now let go for me.”

That’s all it takes for the damn to break loose and the fiercest orgasm of your life to rack through your body. It reaches every part of you, all the cracks and crevices you never thought could be touched, yet here you are, feeling every inch of yourself set on fire.

“That’s it, doll, that’s it.” Bucky comforts you while you lay victim to the aftershocks of his work, slowing the thrust of his fingers till your breathing evens and he moves to gently circling your sensitive clit.

“Holy shit…” You sigh, a satisfied and totally fucked-out grin playing across your lips.

Noticing how your hazy your eyes still are, Bucky smiles to himself while pressing loving kisses on your forehead.

“You did real good for me, sweetheart.” He listens to you hum beneath him as he moves to kiss your temple. “Y’look so pretty when you cum, you know that? Even prettier than I imagined.”

You twist in your seat to face your neighbour. “You’ve imagined this too?”

“Every night, doll.”

“Huh…”

Though Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on yours, it’s obvious that his mind has slipped away; he’s now clouded by memories of his x-rated dreams, ones that have ended with him pumping his embarrassingly hard length into his fist one too many times, and his cock twitches in his ever-tightening pants. You notice the movement at his crotch and, emboldened by his confession and the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you decide to take back some control.

“What have you pictured doing to me, James?” Your tone is so sweet, so innocent, that it takes a moment for your words to register in his brain. But when it does, boy, does a fresh wave of blood rush to his cock.

“You sure you wanna know? Cuz it ain’t all sweet and innocent.” He warns.

You say nothing and let your actions do all the talking; you slide a hand down to meet his left, the one still nestled between your sticky thighs, and tug it away from your cunt. With your eyes locked on his, you raise Bucky’s cum coated fingers to your mouth, slowly wrapping your lips around them and sucking your sweetness away. Making sure to give the firefighter a show, you swirl your tongue around his fingers before taking them as deep as you can, a knowing look in your eyes when you notice Bucky clenching his jaw.

After releasing his fingers from your swollen red lips, you press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Tell me.”

What you can only describe as a growl rises from the back of Bucky’s throat and before you know it, you’re being carried to your bedroom, legs bound tightly around his waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck.

He sits down on the edge of the bed; hands resting on your hips and edging lower to your ass, his fingers grip the supple flesh to keep you in place.

His force on your hips is pushing you down on his ample bulge, sparking a flash of pleasure straight up your spine that escapes you with a moan. Bucky chuckles softly with a sinful grin as you tilt your head back at the feeling.

“You wanna know what I’ve imagined us doing, doll?” The firefighter grabs your chin to bring your attention back to him. He runs the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging on it and letting it bounce back into place.

“I’ve pictured us just like this.” He drops his hand to your neck, tracing the curve of your collar bone till it meets the strap of your sundress. “You, naked and beautiful as ever, riding my cock like I know you can.”

You gasp lightly when he tugs your strap till it’s tumbling off your shoulder.

“And you’re telling me just how full you are, how stretched your little pussy is around me, choking my cock like a damn vice.”

Bucky’s filthy words send your hips into motion without warning; you grind your bare cunt over his crotch, the tent in his pants settling between your slick folds till his shaft is enveloped with your warmth.

“Does that sound good, doll? To have my cock buried inside you when you bounce on it? Fuck, I bet your cunt is dripping for me again,”

“It never stopped, James.” You whimper, your sensitive clit sending jolts up your frame as Bucky guides your hips over his.

“That’s right, you’re never gonna use anything else to cum ever again. You got me now, doll. I’m all you need. Me, my cock, I’m gonna ruin everyone else for you.”

You don’t even notice that Bucky’s hands are on the zip at your back, slowly pulling it down till the fabric are your chest goes slack, and with the straps already draped over your shoulders, the flowing material cascades around you, tumbling to your hips and leaving you defenseless to Bucky’s insatiable blue eyes.

“Fuck me, sweets, you’re- god- you’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses your collarbone. “So,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “perfect.”

Your eyes flutter shut, lost in the feeling of his touch, and Bucky smirks when he sees you. He teases a hand up your soft skin till it sits just beneath your tit, daring to reach up and play with you in the ways he’s always dreamt of.

“Is this okay?” He asks, earning an even more passionate grind of your hips as you push your chest closer to his open mouth.

He chuckles, “Needy, aren’t ya, sweets?”

You whine.

“Hmm, lucky for you, this is exactly what I imagined doing to you, what I’ve dreamt of for months…”

His lips wrap around your hardened nipple with haste, the warmth of his mouth a welcome sensation. He sucks at the sensitive nub, this tongue reaching out to soothe you afterwards. You throw your head back and moan loudly.

The sound of bucky loudly licking and sucking on your tits is driving you crazy, to the point where your hips are stuttering over his, practically drowning in the feeling till you have no control over your movements.

“God, I love your tits. Wanna act out every dream I’ve ever had of you. Fucking your tits, your throat, your cunt, anywhere you’ll let me, doll, please. I’ve needed you for so long.”

You blush at the word love, surpressing the hope that is stirring at the possibility that your tits aren’t the only thing he loves. Has he really wanted this as long as me? You wonder, picturing everything he just revealed he’s been wanting.

“M’So fuckin’ hard for you sweetheart, I know you can feel me. Dick’s throbbing, doll, it’s s’hard it hurts.”

You pull at his hair so he’s looking up at you again and capture his lips in yours.

“I wanna see you, Bucky…”

He groans and reaches for the hem of his shirt which he waists no time in tearing off. Your chest rises and falls heavier than before, eyes raking his physique just like you had that night he was leaving the shower at his place.

You trail a finger down his abs till it brushes the button of his jeans teasingly.

“All of you, James.” You look pointedly at his crotch. “May I?” You ask and when he nods, you climb off his lap and sink between his legs on the floor, you dress tumbling to the ground immediately.

Bucky’s abs tense as you work to undo the button, your hands tiny in comparison to his body. Next, you work the zipper up and over the bulge of his cock, the teeth desperate to come apart after being so constricted for so long. The two sides of denim snap away from the tent of his boxers, perfectly presenting where the firefighter so badly needs your touch.

He helps you kick off his jeans till the only thing between you is his boxers. You trace a finger up and down his shaft through the cotton, enjoying the sticky patch of pre cum leaking through the top.

“Have you ever imagined me sucking your cock, James?” You ask with half lidded eyes before kissing his covered shaft. “Cause I have.”

Bucky whimpers - whimpers - at your words, his hips snapping up to your face uncontrollably.

You begin to drag down his boxers, trailing kisses down down down, your lips greeting his tip when his cock flicks up against them before your eyes even get chance to glance at him.

Your eyes flutter shut at the salty taste on your lips, revelling in the breathy moans from your neighbour.

“Fuck- pl-please honey, I need your- argh- mouth around me!”

You make eye contact with him from your place on the floor and ask if he’s sure.

“More than anything.”

And with that, you take his thick length into your mouth, lips sealing around his angry pink cock head briefly when your trace your tongue over his slit, before gliding lower down his cock.

You take as much of him as you can, but you need time to warm up having never taken a cock as large as his before.

“You’re so big, baby.” You say as you pull off his shaft with a pop, “Biggest I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

A frustrated groan arises from the firefighter and you feel his hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you to his dick once more.

“Suck my cock, doll, just like we’ve both imagined, nice and deep, please.”

You take the base of his cock in your hands and guide his tip back to your lips.

“Atta girl,” Bucky encourages as you take him deeper and deeper.

He feels you relaxing your throat to take more of him and his balls clench at the feeling.

“Argh fuck, fuck, fuck. Good girl, oh my god, yes!”

His praises and curses cheer you on and you manage as much of him as you can, only an inch or so remaining that’s simply too thick to fit in your mouth. Lord knows how he’ll fit in your pussy, but you’re sure he’ll figure it out.

You bob your head on his length over and over till you’re in desperate need of air. You let your hands work your spit and his precum up and down his hard cock while you catch your breath and watch his beautiful face contort into one of extreme pleasure.

Your chest fills with pride at Bucky’s facial expressions; making him feel good is somehow more rewarding than anything you’ve done in your life and you find yourself content at the thought of spending the rest of your days pleasing him.

Bucky is oblivious to the gratified smile toying your lips and wholly unprepared for your next movement.

“Oh god- oh fuck, doll-” He groans, his breathing staggered and eyes clenched shut when you take his balls in your mouth, the skin sloppily wet from your work on his cock, and now enjoying the warmth of your mouth.

“Oh honey, do that again, felt so go- argh!” He’s interrupted by you tending to his sack once more, your tongue swirling around them and lightly sucking.

You moan around his pretty, swollen balls, the vibrations drawing a sigh of pleasure from your neighbour. The trimmed hair at the base of Bucky’s member is tickling your nose while you fight to taste every part of him.

With a final sharp suck, you release his balls with a small plop, plant a wet kiss on each and flatten you tongue to lick a bold stripe up his length. The tip of your muscle presses into the vein on the underside of his dick and Bucky thrusts upward, his hips bucking as he desperately searches for more.

As you ready yourself to glide his cock down your throat once more, you feel Bucky’s hand on your cheek, pulling you off him.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” You ask with a concerned frown, nervous that you’ve done something wrong to have Bucky stopping you. You wrap your hand around his forearm, the one outstretched to hold your hair, while the other remains enclosed around his cock.

“Nothin’ bad, sweets, it’s just that- fuck-“

You absentmindedly stroke your thumb over his girth, a motion you intend to be comforting but in reality, it just makes him throb even harder in your hands.

“-I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep using your pretty mouth like that.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”

He laughs lightly and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Cause as hot as you’d look swallowing my load, I’d much rather cum inside that sweet pussy for our first time.”

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before pecking a doting kiss to his forearm and letting Bucky pull you to your feet. His eyes follow yours till he’s looking up at you from his seated position, his hands falling to your hips with an awestruck face.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” His voice is barely above a whisper. You blush crimson.

“Get on the bed, doll.” He orders. “Lay on your back.”

You do as he says and once you’ve settled, he crawls on top of you. It’s quiet for a moment as Bucky stares lovingly down at you, burning the image into his memory to remind him he has everything he needs.

“I should have found the guts to do this months ago…” You murmur, pushing the fallen tendrils of chestnut hair behind his ear. He looks so goddamn perfect; the golden glow filtering through your window catching every feature you’ve spent so long dreaming about, and now he’s here, really here, and you can’t help but stroke his cheek with revere.

“We have now, doll. That’s enough for me.” Bucky whispers. “Are you comfortable?”

You nod, truthfully, both in terms of your position but also for what’s coming. But then his elbows bend out and he’s lowering himself onto you.

“How about now?”

There’s a gleam in his eye and a playful smirk on his lips as he watches your chest heave, your body taking more of his weight now.

“No!” You giggle.

“No? Is this better?” Bucky teases, briefly laying his whole weight over you until you paw at his shoulders to push him off.

“James! You’re squishing me!”

The melody of your carefree laughter has Bucky melting and he pushes himself up onto his hands once more. His lip is tucked between his teeth, enjoying the view as he becomes increasingly aware of his cock now just one slip away from your pussy lips.

Quickly coming to your own awareness of Bucky’s rock hard length pressing into you, you sober up.

“Darling?” You tug on his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.

Bucky’s brows pinch closer slightly.

“I need you inside me.”

His soft lips are crashing against yours within moments, his hand fighting between the nonexistent space between your bare bodies to grasp his cock and guide his tip to your bundle of nerves.

The sudden taste of how good Bucky can make you feel forces a sharp breath from you. It’s so much yet not enough, all at the same time.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? Let me take care of you how you deserve.”

After a meek nod with your hands finding refuge in Bucky’s soft locks, he trails his cock head down your pink folds till it catches on the dip of your entrance.

Bucky tempts a whimper from you as he slides inside of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his larger than average member.

“Fuck, doll, you’re so tight for me.” The firefighter moans, resisting the urge to snap his hips and bottom out completely.

You’ve yet to make a sound, the sting in your pussy not yet dissipating, and when you glance down at where your bodies meet, you realise you’re barely taking half of him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky’s reassuring voice is ghosting over your ear, “you’re taking me so well, sweets. You need me to go slower?”

You clench your eyes shut briefly, “No, keep going, you’re just so…”

“So what?”

Bucky watches a deep red creep up your neck before returning his gaze to your eyes, that now dance across the room avoiding him.

A gentle grasp on your chin draws you to face the breathtaking man above you and you clench around his dick.

“What happened to the little minx who was practically beggin’ me to fuck her, huh? Don’t get all shy on me now, dollface. I’m so what?”

His words have you spilling yours without second thought. “You’re so fucking thick, James, cock’s splittin’ me in half.”

He groans and snaps his hips fully into yours, making you scream out, “Jamie!!!”

His scalp burns when you pull on his hair harder than before, your moans filling the room like a broken record. Bucky should be focused on the furrow of your brow, your laboured breaths, the way your cunt is choking him, anything about how perfect this feels, but all he can focus on is how with one thrust, you called him ‘Jamie’. And you didn’t just say it, you screamed it.

“Shit, honey, say it again.”

“Ja-Jamie…” You whine and feel Bucky draw his hips back before pounding into you once more.

“Again.” Your neighbour growls.

“Oh my god, fuck- I”

“Again.”

It takes everything you have to open your eyes and look at him. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

“That’s my girl.”

Bucky drives his length into you till his tip is hitting your cervix, the pleasure wrapping around your throat and squeezing the air out of you. You fight to breathe as Bucky drills into you, over and over, softly grunting with every thrust.

“Never felt anything as good as your cunt before, doll. Wanna spend the rest of my life buried inside you.”

You pull his lips to yours and, back arching from the mattress, dive your tongue into his mouth with vigour. He lets you explore his mouth while fucking you deep and fast, the headboard of your bed slamming against the wall and probably driving your neighbour crazy. Oh wait, he is your neighbour, and it is driving him crazy, but in the best way imaginable.

“So goddamn tight, sweets, y’pussy was made for me,” He swallows your whimpers happily, “don’t you think? You feel how good i’m filling you up, honey? Sliding in an’ out so easy, you’re so fucking wet for my dick.”

“Harder, Jamie.”

Goddamn.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll do whatever you want.”

You lose yourself in his thrusts; the sting has long turned into the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something after the orgasm he lulled from you only a few minutes ago.

“Fuckin’ me s-so good, Jamie.”

“Ah- just like that, baby.”

“I’m getting close, James, need you to go faster.”

Your pleas send Bucky’s cock pulsing and he does exactly as you wish. He fucks you faster, fighting off the desperate urge to cum inside your sweet cunt.

“Jamie…” You sigh.

He grins up at you from his place at your tits, his tongue reaching out to tease your nipples. You push his head down till he takes your sensitive bud in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over it while he gropes its twin.

The tight coil in your stomach is twisting to its limit and you find yourself dangerously close to cumming around Bucky’s hard, thick length.

“I’m so- oh fuck- i’m so close, James.”

He lifts his head and eyes you with lust blown pupils.

“Are you gonna cum for me, doll? God, I can feel you clenching around me, you wanna cream all over my cock? Huh?” He smirks at your pornographic moans. “Bet I’ll look so good covered in your cum, sweets, maybe I’ll let you clean me up, put that mouth to good use.”

“I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum,” You chant several times breathlessly.

“Let go for me, sweet girl, make a mess o’my cock. Cum, doll.”

Your body shudders as your hips grind up into Bucky’s, your walls tightening before he feels you gush around him. Practically screaming in pleasure, you bite down on Bucky’s shoulder to quiet yourself, though the pain travels straight to his member, still fucking into you with force.

“Fuck, James, you’re so perfect, never came so hard in my life- shit-“

He’s groaning into your ear, his balls slamming against you and filling the room with salacious wet slaps.

“You’re so wet and- fuck- I can’t- I can’t hold back much longer.”

You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and lick up the side of his throat, tongue catching the salty beads of sweat in its path. Reaching his earlobe, you suck on it lightly and whisper into his ear.

“Want you to cum inside me, Jamie. Fill me up, please, I need your cum.”

“Argh, fuck!!” Your words send Bucky over the edge and his hips stutter while he finally lets go.

“Oh god, yes!” Bucky grunts. “Take my cum, doll, fuckin’ take it.”

Your tongue seeks his neck once more, pressing open mouthed kisses as his cock shoots streams of white seed into you, the spurts seemingly never ending.

“Fillin’ my cunt so much, Jamie- fuck- you feel so good!”

As his cock softens, his thrusts slow to a more bearable pace, both of you so sensitive from your orgasms. Catching your breath takes a minute or two, but in the meantime, you coax satisfied sighs from your firefighter by running your hands up and down his back; the light sheen of sweat greets your fingertips as you touch him tenderly.

With no words being shared, you focus solely on Bucky’s breathing, the rise and fall of his back beneath your hands and the weight of his body on yours. It should be uncomfortable, but you’ve never felt so at home in a place, let alone with a person, in your life.

“That was…” Bucky murmurs into your neck.

You finish his sentence, “Pretty damn good.” Laughter ripples through the muscles of his back.

“Yeah,” He agrees and pulls back slightly to look at you, “you feeling okay?”

“If by okay you mean ‘completely and utterly fucked out’ then yeah, I’m great.”

You grin cheekily before pushing his hair behind his ear yet again, an act you find yourself praying that you’ll get to do for the rest of your life.

“How are you feeling?” You ask sincerely.

Those blue orbs flick between your own, laced with an emotion you hope to be love. “Like I want to be with you like this forever.” Bucky admits. “That and completely and utterly fucked out.”

You laugh heartily, bringing a beaming smile to Bucky’s swollen red lips.

“Let me clean you up, doll.” He offers before pushing himself off you, much to your dismay. He disappears to your bathroom for a minute before returning with a damp cloth in hand.

“Can you spread your legs for me, sweets?”

He bites a chuckle at how quickly you obey him and gets to work, wiping away your shared cum from your pussy and goosebump-ridden thighs. The towel is warm and soft on your skin, lulling you to sleep, though you fight to keep your eyes on your neighbour.

“You’re so beautiful, James.” You say, reaching to place your hand on his that sits beside you hip, where he’s leaning his weight.

He smiles sheepishly and focuses on the job at hand. Once you’re clean, Bucky carries you to the bathroom so you can do your business, waiting patiently outside after putting his boxers back on and grabbing his henley for you to wear.

When you step out of the bathroom, Bucky’s holding his he let out in front of you. “You looked a bit cold so I thought you might want a shirt?”

You smile, “Your shirt?”

“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the movement, “You don’t have to, I just thou-“

He stops talking when you pull the henley from his grasp and tug it over your head. It swallows you whole and the sleeves tumble past your hands, but Bucky thinks it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him back to your room and back into bed, tugging the sheets over you both where you nestle into his chest.

“You’re staying, right?” You ask with the most puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

“Of course, doll.”

Smiling to yourself, you curl up against the firefighter. “Woulda cooked you a meal months ago if I knew that’s all it took for you to finally fuck me.”

a/n: filth. pure filth. so sorry that it took me a lifetime to post this - life got lifey and it took me ages to get this right. it’s my second time writing any sort of smut so i hope it was good for y’all. thanks for all the support, it means the world to me. love you guys, red ❤️

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[caffeinewitchcraft]

WIBTA for going to my high school reunion even though the two witches I stripped of magic are going?

(Read for free on Patreon (X))

I (28 witch) was in a coven during high school. Not really even a coven. We weren’t recognized and there wasn’t a clear division of responsibilities. We did have a high priestess but she hadn’t Declared or been Initiated or whatever she believed. Looking back, her learning was all over the place (and a little problematic, honestly. I remember her calling a poppet a Voodoo doll before being called out by another member). Let’s call her Sarah.

Sarah was a year older than the rest of us (still the same grade though) and her mom was a witch so that made her the high priestess. She was the one who would organize all of our rituals and held the power of veto over any proposed spells. While you think that’d mean she’d provide the ingredients, she never did. She did tell us what to buy and, let me tell you, some of those things were expensive for a high schooler. We met in the park behind her house, and she demanded that at least one of us be in every one of her classes. If we weren’t, we’d be “cycled” out of the coven until our parents convinced the school to transfer us in.

Any alt kid knows what I’m talking about because they had a Sarah in their life. If she was angry, we had to be angry (and a little afraid of her). If she was sad, we were expected to ask why. If she was happy, we had to be even more happy. You get the picture.

The problem came when Sarah added Jess (fake name) to the Coven during the start of our junior year. It was the first time Sarah allowed someone else from a witch family to join. Jess was a transfer student from England. She told us all that that made her magic deeper and more powerful because she was a “daughter of the witches you could not burn.” When I pointed out that that statement is historically inaccurate, Jess called me a “pilgrim.” She tried to convince Sarah to blind me (take away my decision-making power in the coven), but I was the only one with reliable access to dried herbs (my mom’s a botanist and didn’t count her stores like Sarah’s mom did), so Sarah said no.

Jess’ dislike of me got worse when I actually did dress like a pilgrim for Halloween that year. And, if I’m honest, I did take it a little far. I was a hot-headed kid. I followed her around the entire day and had kids sign one of two petitions – “Burn” or “Not Burn.” When the Burn Petition won, I could tell I went too far (there were a LOT of signatures).  I tried to make it a joke and told her that now she really was a witch we couldn’t burn.

Jess and I got in our first physical fight. Sarah eventually broke it up, but not before Jess ripped out a good chunk of my hair, and I broke the tiger’s eye bracelet she wore.

 I later heard from another coven member that Jess tried to lay a curse on me that night. Unfortunately for her, I was pretty interested in defensive work and had a fresh witch’s jar buried under my window. Her curse got caught in it and rebounded. Apparently, that’s how Jess got pink eye, not from her younger sister.

We fought like cats and dogs. Any time Jess would talk about England, I’d make fun of her accent. When I brought up what spell I���d like to do, Jess would call me a juvenile pilgrim. Eventually, Jess got smart. She’d text me insults rather than say them to my face so that she’d have a chance to tattle to Sarah before I got the chance to hit back.

Sarah pulled me aside at least three times to “address” the fights. She basically said that I needed to respect Jess more because she came from a witch family, like her. She told me I could learn a lot from Jess if I stopped acting like a human. When I pointed out that we are humans, just humans who have elected to use magic, she got really mad.

And when Sarah got mad, she could make life really difficult.

My spell for luck on midterms got passed over for Jess’ jinx on our English teacher. The jinx worked and Ms. Edel tripped, but guess who still came to class with a broken leg? MS. EDEL. Guess who failed their midterm?

ALL SEVEN OF US.

Damn, I can’t believe I’m still upset by this petty high school drama. Therapy did not work.

So safe to say that Jess and I never became friends. I love magic now and loved it then, but she took it so seriously. I’ve always believed magic should be fun. All the spells she brought to the coven required a spirit element—blood, hair, sacrifice. One of the members was a strict green witch and had to drop out because of it. We missed two full moons until Sarah approved Eileen to rejoin after she woke up from her coma.

(And before anyone freaks out about the coma – we all ended up in comas here and there. We were a bunch of uneducated and untrained baby witches who all had different belief systems. The fact that there wasn’t anything worse than a coma is a miracle. She wasn’t traumatized by it any more than I was by mine.)

Jess and I mostly avoided each other for the rest of the year. We always voted against the other’s spell and I’m fairly certain she tried to trip jinx me in the hall as often as I tried to trip jinx her. Sarah never tried to diffuse the tension between us. She confided in Eileen that she was grateful we kept each other in check.

Things could have continued on that way until we all moved away for college (or repeated the year after failing all those midterms) if it weren’t for the vernal equinox. Or, as we inaccurately called it, the Spring Solstice.

The way it worked was that we all got to propose a ritual during equinoxes. They’re powerful magical events on their own and when you bring intent to the party? They were always our biggest, most successful workings.

Sarah always chose what we did on those days. She pretended like we got to vote, but we all knew she would never choose one of our rituals. My freshman year, she made us all do one for beauty. Because it was a “make real what is in the eye of the beholder” type, some of our transformations were a little…traumatizing. I’m only telling you this so you understand the power an equinox has, okay? I do not think this way anymore. Other members were just as extreme. Eileen went from a Wendy from Wendy’s to a Jessica Rabbit. And I…

Well.

I grew rabbit ears and teeth. That doesn’t make me a furry! Who Framed Roger Rabbit? was super influential on BOTH Eileen and me. I was a kid and didn’t understand my own concept of beauty. It took almost three months before I got the ears to go away entirely.

Suffice it to say, we were all excited and nervous for what ritual Sarah would pick, which is why it was a blow to find out that she had picked a ritual - Jess’ ritual.

A ritual for power.

I didn’t want to do it from day one, okay? My belief is that whatever magic comes to you naturally is what’s okay to take. I think if you rip magic up from the earth or the abyss, it’ll change you. Maybe even corrupt you or change your personality.

But I was a kid and didn’t know how to explain that. Jess and Sarah were both from witch families and they seemed to think it was okay. Even though I didn’t like Jess, I did see her as a more “authentic” witch because of that. I know better now, but as a kid seeing all of her grimoires, I gave her false authority.

Jess explained the ritual to us over the next month. She talked about how we were going to be “tested.” The ritual would pull our spiritual selves from our bodies, and depending on how long we chanted, we’d return to them with more or less magic than when we started. She said that everyone in her family did it when they turned 18.

It wasn’t until three days before the equinox that she told us what would happen if one of us were to be judged unworthy.

“Mostly nothing,” she said. I remember her exact words, how her black hair spun as she soared through the air on the swings. We stood in a half circle before her and Sarah as they swung higher and higher. An audience to their aerial court. She said, “Sometimes people lose some of their magic. When the ritual decides they don’t deserve it.”

Eileen asked, “When the ritual decides? It’s sentient?”

“There’s an overseer we’ll call on,” Sarah said. She’d been the only one allowed to read Jess’ grimoire. Her lip curled and she leaned forward so she could look down over Eileen like an avenging angel as she swung overhead. “An impartial entity.”

“I am not a deity witch,” I said. I had long ago committed that I would never call on a higher being in any ritual. Most of our spells had to be modified for me so that I could swear to the cardinal directions rather than to the Morrigan or Hecate. “You know that.”

“You’re not swearing to anyone,” Sarah said and rolled her eyes.

“Which means no one is swearing to us,” Eileen muttered under her breath. But I could tell she had given up by the slump of her shoulders.

“It’s only the unworthy who lose their magic,” Jess reassured. Her eyes flashed at me. “Scared you’re unworthy?”

Yes. I was scared. I know better now than to think lineage has any place in witchcraft. It’s about the magic, always just the magic. But months of hearing their rhetoric had worn at my self-esteem. It really felt like if I didn’t do the ritual, I was as good as admitting I wasn’t a witch. If I did do the ritual…

Well. Obviously, I did the ritual.

I was a hot-headed teen, okay? I felt challenged. I decided that I would wear extra protections. Tiger’s eye and quartz charged with intention. I picked out a silver locket my mother gave me, filled with belladonna. She told me it symbolized beauty and choice.

Now, here’s where I may be the asshole.

I can’t give you a play-by-play of the ritual. It was ten years ago, and calling on that much magic has a funny way of warping memory. But what I do remember is this:

We gathered in the park before sunrise. Seven of us in new colors – spring green, white, soft yellow and pink. Jess made us get rid of anything with a working on it – crystals, cards, and ladders. She collected them all in a linen bag and threw them into the woods. I couldn’t get away with my tiger’s eye or quartz, but she missed the pendant my mother gave me. It was a warm comfort against my chest as we began.

We lit the fire together, each of us frantically thumbing our lighter to make sure the sparks caught at the same time.

Jess brought the chalice. We all cut our palms and let seven drops fall into it. (No, we didn’t use a clean blade. My cut got infected as hell and it itches like a witch. I know better now!) She bade us drink, and we did.

“Now the magic will see us as equal,” Sarah said while Jess prepared the next step. She licked her lips as if savoring the blood. “It will only be our wills determining the outcome.”

Jess doused us with oil and herbs. It smelled sharp and uneasy. I had provided the herbs and knew all of them were either fresh or dried to perfection. But it was rancid. There was rot in the air, but I couldn’t place it then. I wrinkled my nose and took up the chanting with the others to distract myself from the smell.

If you’ve ever chanted before, you know the stages. First, you’re just talking. You say the words and they mean something, but you don’t feel them. Then your mouth gets tired. You start messing up the timing of the words. You stutter. You stumble. The words lose meaning. Most people stop there. They fall silent and sink into a shallow meditation with heads full of fog.

You’re only a witch if you can reach the next step. You keep saying the words. They become comfortable. You wear the words like clothes and feel your cadence curl through you like a companion. Your body goes on autopilot and your mind relaxes. The chant turns smooth as silk. Depending on the chant, you lose yourself to the sweetness of your coven singing. Sometimes, you sink into the earth with them. Other times, you ride the flow of the magic like waves.

This time, the words pulled us away from our bodies. Jess slowly introduced new words to our chant. Words of summoning.

We called upon the Overseer.

Pressure fell around me like a vice. I couldn’t breathe even as the ritual fell from my lips without breaking. Magic had, at that point, always given me control. This? This was a complete loss of it.

I felt myself compressing. Smaller and smaller in the face of the being that was rising in the middle of the flames. It was not an observer. The moment I “saw” it, its endless form writhing in the space between the smoke, I knew that. It was a judge and jury.

It was a spider.

We chanted. It grew. It pulled us from our bodies like spiderweb and spooled our essences onto its forelimbs. It was not what Jess described and, simultaneously, it was. We were being tested. Our psyches were being tested.

So long as we chanted, the being would be contained. However, the longer it was contained, the more of us it could take. If we let it go, what would it do? Would it return any part of our magic to us? Any part of who we were?

Or would it eat?

This wasn’t a test of magic. It was a test of faith. Faith in each other and faith in the ritual.

For those practitioners out there, you can see the problem. I didn’t enter the ritual with faith. My intent was flawed from the beginning. We’d had spells fail because of lack of belief. I had never been the person who didn’t believe.

Until then

My words wavered. The Overseer turned its eyes to me. I could see my magic like thread before it, shimmering against the backdrop of its maw.

Then another tremor. Eileen dropped a word. The Overseer split and looked at both of us. Someone else faltered. One of the coven – I couldn’t see them – fell and went silent.

The sky yawned overhead, empty and cold. The embers from the fire spun up into it and were lost. The Overseer rippled and I felt our coven shrink in the face of it.

I gasped around the chant and looked across the fire. The light licked Jess’ gleeful face. Her eyes hungered for my failure. I could see it. Through the connection of the Overseer, I could feel it.

Jess and Sarah changed the chant. To this day, I don’t remember if they taught it to the rest of us. There are so many parts of the ritual that I’ve left out or forgotten. But I remember them chanting different words. The circle grew discordant.

“I offer my magic so I may be unspun and woven anew,” they said. The words have imprinted themselves like bitters under my tongue. “I offer my magic so I may—”

Some of the other members tried to pick up the new chant. Their voices grew weaker and the Overseer’s limbs began to extend out towards each one of us.

I wouldn’t offer my magic to that thing. I wouldn’t be unspun.  Eileen was stuttering. I saw her fall to her knees. I was close behind.

I threw my necklace into the flames.

Belladonna. Beautiful and deadly. It has meant choice to many women and many of them have been from my own family. It's extreme and it’s final. An end that doesn’t always make room for a new beginning.

Pretty words that cover up what I meant when I threw it into the Overseer.

My intent was Death.

Entities never die. I’m sure the Overseer didn’t. It howled. The wind kicked up and brought the flames into a spiral ten feet tall. Its forelimbs shattered, and I reeled myself back together greedily.

Not all of us were safe from the Overseer’s desperate struggle against my death curse.

Sarah and Jess were alone in the third phase of the ritual. They had changed the chant. They had offered their magic and asked the entity to do with it what it will. They believed.

And because they believed, the Overseer took their magic with it.

I think it was the first coma Jess ever fell into. Her family certainly acted like it. They whisked her back to the East Coast before the end of the year. I heard from Eileen that she woke up shortly after I left for college.

Magicless.

Sarah too.

I fully own that I was responsible for the ritual failing. I panicked. I’ve gone through every excuse over the years. I didn’t know what the ritual really was. I was just a kid. I took magic too lightly. It was their fault for not letting us read the grimoire for ourselves. But, at the end of the day, the real reason the ritual failed was because I panicked and I let that panic break my belief.

I moved on to college and it felt like running away. I’ve never returned to my hometown. I’m happy with the life I’ve built. My magic summer camp gives me time to travel during the winter months, and I feel like I’m making a real difference in young witches’ lives.

Nowadays I teach young witches to never do a working without full intent. If they have doubts, they don’t do it. It’s a lesson I learned the hard way ten years ago. I tell them it can cost them more than their magic. It can cost them their lives.

Eileen is still back home and she says Sarah rarely comes out of her house. Sometimes she sees our former high priestess wandering the school grounds on nights of the full moon. I hear from other members of the coven that Jess’ family put out a bounty on me a few years ago. However, I never saw an assassin so I think that was just a rumor.

So, knowing that they’re still not over it, would I be the asshole for attending my high school reunion next month? I’ve been craving reconnection with my roots, but I’d be subjecting Sarah and Jess (though Jess marked Maybe on the RSVP) to my presence.

I know they must hold a grudge. If they were still witches, that would be a problem. I don’t think I’d be able to defend myself from one of their workings since I blame myself for what happened. But since they’re not, it’s not really a danger. That’s pretty asshole-ish, right? Ignoring their feelings because they don’t have the magic to back it up?

So WIBTA for attending my high school reunion even though the two girls I stripped of magic will be attending?

-----

Thanks for reading! It looks like I'll have quite a few updates for the anthology! I am still obsessed with this format and can't wait to share some of the updates over the next few weeks.

If you'd like to support me before the anthology, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)! I post new stories every week and many of my patrons saw the above story a week early.

The current AITA story takes place in the same universe as our former Cryptid (X). About a poor, poor boy who is just proud to be a regional Nightmare. Why is everyone so mad at him?

See y'all next week!

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[luveline]

oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)

adopted fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for panic attacks

You should call your brother. 

You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake. 

You read back his last message. 

I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you

You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him. 

You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right? 

He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“No. Are you busy?” 

“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?” 

“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.” 

“Are you calmed down?” 

“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.” 

“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”

“You can’t tell him.” 

“What?” 

“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?” 

“You don’t have to come.” 

“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.” 

You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind. 

Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual. 

You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.

You don’t have it in you to complain. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.” 

 Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?” 

“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.” 

“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.” 

Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?” 

Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you. 

Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.” 

“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.” 

You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally. 

The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.” 

You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur. 

“I think my boss will forgive me.” 

You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly. 

“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly. 

“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.” 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.” 

He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.” 

You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.

He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache. 

Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens. 

You shuffle backward nonchalantly. 

Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday. 

“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?” 

“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.” 

“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you. 

You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.” 

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises. 

Spencer squeezes your hand. 

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.