#effortless leap

[90smisaki]

ten Disney-style cartoon animals, each with their own unique personality.

[kruemel8]

X.

[boo-cool-robot]

I’m surprised I don’t know more than one trans person who named themselves after a FatT character....by all rights there should be dozens of guys named after Keith characters

[xo100]

Coffee - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando Norris visits a coffee shop every day after his run, mainly to see the barista—you. After some playful conversation, he finally asks you out.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1318.

୨ৎ

The familiar chime of the bell above the door rang softly through the cozy coffee shop, signaling the arrival of another customer. It was still early, and the usual bustle of mid-morning crowds hadn’t yet begun. The only sound besides the quiet hum of the espresso machine was the faint tapping of your fingers as you wiped down the counter, your mind only half-focused on the task at hand. It was quite in here at his hour, which meant you could almost always expect a familiar face to appear any minute now—his face.

—

Lando Norris had a routine, and his routine involved this little coffee shop on the corner. Every morning, after his early run, he would show up in his running gear, hair tousled from exertion, cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and order the same thing: a simple black coffee. It wasn’t the most complex drink on the menu, not by a long shot, but somehow, you had found yourself looking forward to it every time. Because when he walked in, it wasn’t just the coffee that caught your attention.

From behind the counter, you’d noticed him the very first time he walked in. How could you not? He was handsome in that effortless, boyish kind of way, with soft brown curls that always seemed to be perfectly messy, and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that gave the impression he was always one joke away from making you laugh. He was the kind of customer you wanted to chat with for longer than just a few minutes it took to pour a cup of coffee.

And Lando had noticed you too.

At first, he had been shy about it, his glances from across the counter lingering just a second too long. He’d fumble with his card or take an extra moment to say thank you, just so he could meet your eyes. Each time, his heart would do a funny little leap in his chest. Maybe it was the way you smiled at him—genuine, warm, the kind of smile that made him forget how could it was outside. Or maybe it was the you’d always remember his order without asking, your quiet kindness making the simple act of buying coffee feel personal.

Whatever it was, he found himself coming back every day. And today was no different.

—

As you wiped down the counter, you caught the familiar sight of him jogging up the street through the large glass window, his hoodie pulled over his head to keep out the chill. Your heart skipped a little beat, as it always did when you saw him approach. You quickly turned back to the coffee machine, pretending to busy yourself, though you knew it was useless. The chime above the door rang again, and you felt a flutter in your stomach as Lando stepped inside.

“Morning,” he said, his voice a little breathless as he tugged his hood down. He flashed you that lopsided grin that always made you want to smile back.

“Morning,” you replied, already reaching for the cup. “The usual, right?” He laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah, you know me too well.”

You gave him a playful glance as you worked, pouring the dark liquid into the cup with practiced ease. “It’s hard to forget when you order the same thing every day.” Lando leaned casually against the counter, watching you with an almost lazy kind of interest, as if he had all the time in the world to stand there and chat. And, well, maybe he did. “Maybe I’m just predictable,” he teased, eyes twinkling.

You shrugged, handing him his coffee. “Predictable can be good sometimes.”

Their fingers brushed slightly as he took the cup from you, and you felt a jolt of something—something warm and sweet—shoot through you. Lando seemed to feel it too, because his hand lingered for just a second longer than necessary before he pulled away, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “What else have you figured out about me then?”

You blushed at the question, suddenly very aware of how close he was standing. He had this way of looking at you, like you were the only person in the room, and it made your pulse quicken in a way that was both exciting and nerve-wracking.

“Well,” you started, trying to sound nonchalant as you wiped your hands on your apron, “I’ve figured out you like to run, considering you’re always showing up in running clothes. And you’re not too fond of sugar, since you never ask for it in your coffee.” You paused, glancing up at him. “Oh, and you’re a fan of coming in right after your run. Probably so you don’t freeze out there.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Guilty,” he admitted. “But maybe I just like the coffee here.”

“Is that so?” You asked, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Because I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a few other coffee shops on your way here.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t make it like you do.” His voice was soft, the teasing edge still there, but laced with something a bit more genuine. His gaze lingered on you a moment longer, and you felt your face grow warmer under his attention. There was a beat of silence, one that neither of you seemed in a rush to fill. The morning light filtered through the window, casting a golden hue over the small shop, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you. No rush, no distractions—just you and Lando, standing there with his cup of coffee between you.

Finally, Lando cleared his throat, breaking the spell but not the connection. “You know,” he began, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “I was wondering… if you ever get a break?”

You blinked, not expecting the question. “A break?”

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a touch of nervousness creeping into his usually confident demeanor. “You know, like… a break durning your shift. I thought maybe, if you’re free sometime, we could, I don’t know, grab a coffee? Well, not here, obviously,” he added quickly, grinning sheepishly.

You felt your heart skip again, this time harder, and you bit back a smile as you looked up at him. “You want to get coffee? With me?”

“Yeah,” Lando said, his eyes locking into yours. “I mean, I’ve been coming here for the coffee everyday, but honestly… I think it’s you I’m really here for.”

The words hung in the air between you, soft and sincere. For a second, you thought you might have misheard him, but the look on his face—hopeful and just a little bit vulnerable— told you otherwise. You felt a smile tug on your lips, warmth blooming in your chest. “I’d like that,” you said, your voice soft but sure.

Lando’s grin widened, the relief evident on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, feeling the butterflies in your stomach dance widely. “Maybe after my shift? I finish around two.”

“Perfect,” he said, his excitement barely contained. “I’ll be here. I’ll vene let you choose the place.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you teased lightly. “Please do,” Lando shot back with a wink. He stood there for a second longer, as if he didn’t quite want to leave just yet, but eventually, he pushed off the counter, taking a step back. “Alright, I should probably let you get back to work. But, um… I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, feeling like you were floating on air. “See you later.”

He gave you one last smile before turning and heading to the door, the bell chiming softly as he left. You watched him walking down the street, the same way he always did, but this time, it felt different. You felt different.

Because today, nothing was really the same after all.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟNotes; thank you for reading my first story! Hope you enjoyed it! Also is there anyone who can tell me how to make a masterlist?

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. No matter how hard he tried.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with comfort! call back to some scenes from part three, crying, hugs, kisses, slight toxic themes, lovesick!alastor, happy ending, different pov's and scene jumps are separated by the boarders to make it easier to follow!

☒ Word Count: 2,672

You stumbled back to your room with an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut. Alastor wasn't a man who portrayed such extreme emotions the way he just did right before your very eyes. The sight of his smile melting off his face felt immoral. 

Your mind lamented with turmoil. 

Everything Alastor said to you was outlandish, far-fetched. Yet he spoke with such conviction, such desperation. 

This man was nothing more than a stranger to you, yet some of the things he recounted filled in those blanks you harbored through life and death.

You had been drawn to Alastor's voice since day one. Something about him did feel... nostalgic.  

And when you danced, it was effortless.

But could that just be chalked up to a coincidence?

You shook your head to rid yourself of those pestering contemplations. There was no point in dwelling on it now. At the end of the day, Alastor was a ruthless overlord. He wasn't capable of love. 

Sure, he owned you. But just because you were contractually obligated to him didn't mean you had to play nice. Alastor couldn't force you to reciprocate those strong desires of love. 

No matter how hard he tried.

And after the show he put on only moments ago... you felt more terrified of him than ever before. 

There is nothing more merciless than a man crazy in love.

Alastor stayed up all night mulling over all that transpired. He thought and thought and thought until his mind went numb.

What could he do to make you remember him?

It's not like he could leap back to earth circa 1933 with you and retrace your steps. That world he knew was long gone. 

Love is patient but waits for no one. 

Alastor lifted himself off the carpet on shaky legs. He haphazardly smoothed out his coat and tidied his bowtie. His shadows enveloped him within a moment, ferrying him to the bar located in the foyer. 

Husk jumped when he heard the radio warble in Alastor's voice. Demanding a tall glass of rye. The fluffy fellow knew better than to involve himself in Alastor's business. Husk poured his boss a fine glass of whiskey before turning his back. Continuing to scrub the pile-up of glasses. 

"Husker. Let's say you wanted somebody to remember something that was once near and dear to their heart. What do you presume would be the best possible antidote to bringing that fond memory back to life?"

Husk turned to face Alastor hesitantly. Taking note of the empty glass sitting in front of The Radio Demon. "Well, shit, I don't really know about that," Husk paused, refilling his Boss' glass. "I mean if I were the one who forgot, I guess a solid reminder of that missing somethin' would get the gears turnin'." 

Alastor's gaze was pointed, crimson eyes swirling with a sadness Husk had never seen from the feared demon. Husk cleared his throat before adding, "Like a photo or... an heirloom? Get what I mean?" 

Husk watched as Alastor's shoulders rose from their slumped position. His cynical grin morphed into something sharper, and his eyes now had that familiar gleam of assuredness. "Husker, my good man! You're not as witless as I thought. Thanks for the perspicuity and rye!" And just like that, The Radio Demon was gone. Whisked away by those ghastly shadows of his. 

Husk wasn't sure what he just unlocked for that evil man, but he hoped that whatever it was, it didn't involve him.

Husker's words replayed in Alastor's mind.

"A photo or... an heirloom?"

Husker, you mindless genius.

Alastor knew now what the key to unlocking your memories would be. 

And it was in the shape of a heart, threaded on a silver chain with a photo of him and yourself nestled inside.

The locket he gifted you for your one-month anniversary. The treasure that was wrongfully swiped by that bitch, Elaine. 

It was the catalyst for your first murder. The reason you probably sunk to hell, to begin with.

Alastor had no doubt that Elaine burned in hell along with the rest of them. She was a wretched wrongdoer. Now all he needed to do was locate her. 

Alastor had his fair share of connections in hell. One simple lift of his cane and the miserable sinners were coughing up information. A timid soul mumbled about hearing of an Elaine that fit Alastor's description. Fearfully pointing The Radio Demon in the right direction. 

Alastor chuckled to himself when he realized Elaine was shacked up at Valentino's studio— of all places. He recalls you telling him how Elaine boasted about one day becoming a picture star. 

Guess that little dream of hers came true in the most unconventional fashion. 

Alastor grimaced as the smell of sex and booze wafted past him the moment he stepped foot in the studio. Most of the bystanders turned to get a good look at The Radio Demon. Their pitiful faces were riddled with fear and awe. Probably wondering what an overlord like him was doing in a place like this. 

Alastor scanned the room begrundgly. Scrunching his nose in displeasure from the lewd displays surrounding him. Suddenly, a blonde broad caught his attention. She was sitting across the room, smoking a cigarette in her delicates. Presumably waiting til her shoot began. 

Her features were pouty and more pig than woman, but he was most certain that she was Elaine. 

Alastor approached her without hesitation, slamming his cane harshly against the dirtied floor to grab her attention. "Elaine! Oh, how unpleasant it is to see you again!" Alastor's voice was laced with faux excitement. He crossed an arm behind his back, puffing out his chest with pride. The surly woman glared at him while taking a drag of her cig. "Who the fuck are you?" 

Alastor placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "How could you forget the face of the man who corroborated your murder? I know you weren't always the brightest bulb in the box, but I mean, come on now, Elaine..." Alastor clicked his tongue in disapproval, relishing in the fear cascading over her face.

"Look, I don't want no trouble, mister." Elaine flicked her cigarette to the side, not caring where it landed, before putting her hands in front of her chest. Her own way of waving the white flag. "Well, that's great news! Because nor do I! However, I do want my darling's locket back."

Alastor's voice became low at the end of his sentence as his irises morphed into radio dials. Elaine leaned back in her chair, trembling like a leaf, as she brought her shaky hands up to her neck. She looped her fingers around the chain adorning her throat, untucking the locket from her delicates. Alastor's eyes widened at the sight of his beloved's heirloom in the hands of this wretch. 

"Look, I didn't mean anything by it when I swiped it from your little princess. I was just jealous, alright? Now, just— take it and go!" She tugged at the chain, breaking the locket off her neck before shoving it in front of herself. Dangling it right before Alastor's very eyes.

Alastor studied the piece of precious metal before flickering his gaze back to the cowering woman. "Tell me this, Elaine. Why did you keep the locket all this time, going so far as to bring it to hell with you after death?" Elaine looked taken aback by the inquiry. She scoffed, face turning red. 

"I wanted her life, okay? She had everything I wanted. The beauty, the brains, the beau. I knew if I had this locket and had it on me always, your little princess wouldn't have been able to find it if she went snooping through my things. If I couldn't have her life— then I had to have something of hers. Something that I knew would devastate her if she lost it." Alastor let out a wicked chuckle from Elaine's confession. He swiped the locket out of her grubby paws. 

"Elaine, you... could never be her. And you are quite lucky that I have better things to do today than waste another second on you. If that wasn't the case, I would have taken great pleasure in killing you myself this time." Alastor turned on his heel, shooting her a hostile glare from over his shoulder before taking his leave. 

"Bye-bye now, Elaine! Glad to see your aspirations of becoming a picture star finally came to fruition for you. Ha HA!"

The atmosphere in the room shifted the second Alastor stepped past the Hotel threshold. You were at the bar with Angel, having a well-needed drink, when a commotion at the front doors stole your attention. You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how quickly you turned your head in his direction. Already dizzy enough from the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream.

Alastor lit up when your eyes met his. He rushed over to the bar, wasting no time placing his hands on the stool you were perched on. He spun your chair, forcing you to face him, smiling with more excitement than you'd ever seen from him. "Alastor- what the fuck are you doing?" 

You peered up at him, eyebrows knit in annoyance from how he rudely pulled you away from the drink you were nursing. Alastor fell to his knees and leaned forward, face only centimeters from yours. "On our one-month anniversary, I gave you a locket..." Alastor's voice was laced with merriment, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Not this again- Alastor, please! Give it up." You pleaded, not noticing how Angel and Husk began to back away from the scene. Not wanting any involvement in this lover's quarrel. 

"But your bitch of a friend Elaine stole it from you, and you never ended up getting it back from her." You watched Alastor stuff a hand into his pocket, pulling out a shiny heart-shaped necklace. "So, I took matters into my own hands and got it back for you."

Alastor's free hand reached for yours. He flipped your palm to face the ceiling before placing the locket in your hand. You examined the piece of jewelry carefully, lifting it closer to your face to get a better view. "Open it." Alastor sounded positively impatient with excitement.

You gave him a weary look before thumbing over the clasp that kept the two metal hearts conjoined. You opened it slowly, and your breath hitched from what the tiny heirloom revealed.

It was a photo of a man and a woman. They appeared to be dancing in the photo. Limbs intertwined, both smiling from ear to ear. 

You weren't sure why, but the photo made your heart stutter. And the longer you stared into this moment forever captured in time, the blurrier it appeared. 

The feeling of Alastor's thumbs swiping along your cheeks broke you from your daze on the aged sentimental photo. He cooed at you, with much gentleness pooling in his crimson orbs.

Oh... you were crying? 

Alastor slowly took the locket from your grasp. You watched him expectantly as his hands reached beyond your shoulders, delicately wrapping the chain around your neck. Alastor skillfully clasped the necklace shut, restoring it to its rightful place against your sternum. 

The moment Alastor secured the clasp, you felt a surge of euphoria. A vermillion aura surrounded you, and your heart began to pound fiercely against your ribcage, echoing in your ears. That hole you had in your center for all these years began to flood.

You were motionless as your eyelids fluttered shut. In your mind, your life began to play out before you; like one of those old-timey picture shows. 

Moments from when you were alive and well flickered in your subconscious. All the pleasant memories and promises for the future were with him; With Alastor. 

In a wink, it all came back to you. Every touch, every laugh, every dance- every kiss. A groove in your heart that was wholly irreplaceable; you finally felt it again. 

The tears continued to trickle past your lashline as the sequence of core memories coursed through your head. Distantly, you could hear that familiar radio static hum. 

Your eyes flickered wildly back and forth behind your closed lids as your personalized picture show slowly came to an end. As you flitted yourself back into reality, the radio static warble grew louder. Overpowering the sound of your heartbeat; that thumped in your ears. Unhurriedly, your eyelids fluttered open.

Your world was smiling at you, and you smiled right back. 

"Hi..." You muttered weakly, laughing through the quiet sobs. Alastor continued to thumb away your tears. Crimson orbs softened as they met yours.

"Hello, my darling." His voice sounded better than it did moments before he bestowed the locked upon you. But maybe that's because you finally knew why his voice reminded you of home. 

It was because Alastor was your home.

"You waited for me all this time? Even after I was so cruel to you- why?" You brought your hands up, cupping his cheeks with care. The feeling of his cold skin underneath your fingertips was electrifying. Your body and mind had been deprived of him for far too long; each touch pleasantly overwhelmed your senses.

"Because, my dear, you are everything to me. I would have waited a century more for you if need be. Your cruel behavior only ignited my desire to reclaim your memories further. Nothing you do could ever make me stop loving you."

A lump formed in your throat from his admission. He spoke with such devotion. Alastor gazed at you; as if you hung the stars in the midnight sky. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, sliding yourself off the bar stool. Opting to find comfort beneath Alastor's embrace.

He wasted no time pulling you into his chest, cradling you in his arms as your knees collided with the floor. Alastor nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his smile against your skin. "Oh, how good it is to be home." He mumbled against the base of your throat. 

You pulled back to admire his countenance, arms still weaved around his shoulders. Alastor's eyes flickered from yours to your lips. You took the hint, bearing the initiative in closing the gap. You felt heat surge through your chest when your lips touched his. Alastor's mouth moved in tandem with yours. The kiss was tender and needy; as if it was the first and last embrace you ever shared. 

Alastor's hands explored lower. Large palms smoothing down the sides of your arms, then your waist. Only pausing in his exploration when his hands met your hips. Alastor squeezed them firmly, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss. Your body felt light and airy, and it wasn't from the alcohol you indulged in tonight. 

The kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity. You only pulled away from your lover when your lungs began to scream for air. "I'll never let you out of my grasp ever again. I plan to keep you close for the rest of eternity. Just as I planned all along, my darling." Your heart lodged itself in your throat from his words. You nodded fervently in agreement as a chuckle escaped you.

"I'll hold you to it, my love." Alastor's grin softened the longer he gazed into your eyes. Slowly, he rose to his feet, lifting you to yours by the grasp he had on your hips. You let out a gasp as Alastor hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He held you bridal-style, making quick strides through the foyer and up the stairs. 

"Al! What are you doing?" You giggled, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he skipped two steps at a time, all thanks to his long legs. You admired his visage from this angle, enjoying the cheerful glint that swirled in his eyes. "Taking us somewhere more private, darling. We have a lot of lost time to make up for!"

yall want smut for the next part or..............

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff @kurinhimenezu @memospacexx @night-shadowblood-writes2 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @uhhhimbored @chaotic-smol @shoyosdoll @alitaar @resident-cryptid @nijiru @sunshinesetsstuff @toby33b @th3casscad3

[bunny-1111]

I can hear the bells TN x reader

Theo Nott Oneshot.

...

There he was in all his glory, smile beaming, hair slicked back with that effortless elegance that made your heart flutter. A vision of what you’d always yearned for: Theodore Nott, standing at the altar, looking as if he’d just stepped out of your wildest daydreams.

You inhale deeply, the air thick with the scent of roses and whispered promises. This is it—you’re really getting married. It felt so surreal.

As you glance around the room, the soft glow of candlelight dances on the polished wood, casting a warm hue over the gathered friends and family, their smiles like sunshine piercing through clouds. Each face reflects the joy of the moment, but all you can focus on is him. Your heart pounds in your chest as you look down at your bouquet, a cascade of white peonies and deep crimson roses, the perfect contrast to your dress.

Finally, you lift your gaze, locking eyes with Theo. In that instant, the world falls away, and it's just the two of you. His deep-set eyes glimmer with unshed tears, his expression a mixture of awe and love. As you begin to recite your vows, emotion swells in your throat, choking you up. You can’t help but tear up as you promise him forever, your voice thick with emotion.

Theodore’s voice wavers as he speaks his vows to you, each word heavy with sincerity, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. It’s perfect; he is perfect.

“Now, you may kiss the bride,” a voice rings out, and you feel your heart leap as you lean into him. The kiss is electric, sweeping you off your feet and igniting a spark deep within. You melt into him, the world around you fading as the bells start to ring, echoing joyously through the air, a symphony to mark your union.

Chime, chime, chime.

You pull back, breathless and beaming, your hands entwined with his as you walk down the aisle, the bells ringing louder, enveloping you in their sweet sound.

But then—

“Shouldn’t they have stopped playing those bells by now?” you laugh, turning to Theo, whose smile is contagious.

He only grins, leaning in closer, but your vision starts to blur, and the sweet sound of the bells is still there, persistent, relentless.

Chime, chime, chime.

“Turn off the alarm, darling,” Theodore murmurs, sleep heavy in his voice as he turns over, arms wrapping around you tighter.

“Hmmm,” you respond, half-asleep, trying to shake the haze of slumber from your mind. The dream had to be real—the bell’s chime still reverberating in your ears, a lingering memory of what you had just experienced.

“Baby, the alarm,” Theodore repeats, his voice a gentle rumble as he leans over to turn it off. Reality crashes in, and you realise you’ve dreamt it all. It wasn’t wedding bells; it was your fucking alarm.

With a groan, you rub your eyes, staring at your surroundings—the familiarity of your room and the warmth of Theo beside you, warm and bare.

“What’s wrong?” he growls, pulling you back against his chest, his voice laced with sleep.

“No,” you whine, a small cry escaping as the weight of disappointment settles in your chest. You can almost feel the dream slipping away like sand through your fingers. It had been so perfect; you really thought it was real.

Theodore senses your distress, feeling your face scrunch against him. “Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice is soft, laced with sleepy concern.

“I was having the best dream—we were getting married and—” you begin, the memory washing over you like a warm tide, bittersweet and beautiful.

“Oh, hunny,” he coos, his voice soothing as he runs a hand through your hair. “Go back to sleep and dream on. It will happen, alright?” He tightens his hold around your waist, grounding you in the moment.

“Let’s just finish school first, alright? Go back to sleep,” he mumbles, his breath warm against your neck, pulling you closer as the remnants of your dream linger in the air.

You huff, shutting your eyes tightly, desperate to conjure the enchanting imagery of your wedding day once more. You long to drift back into that blissful dream.

[onyourhyuck]

EXCHANGE LESSONS | L.MK

Pairing: mark lee x fem!oc

Summary: You’re the top student in every subject and your classmate!mark asks for your help in science and you offer the unprecedented exchange lessons that leave him off guard.

genre: smut, tutoring, classmates, inexperienced female oc, the concept of virginity being taken (it’s a social construct but you get it) and dominant!mark. minor groping, pussy eating and penetrating sex. Releasing on stomach, unprotected sex (please use a condom irl)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You’re at the top of the food chain in every subject. Your desolated heart and effortless mind astounds the entire community around you. Since you’re such a smart and passionate individual, people doubt you have any flaws.

But that’s not so true. You do suck at one subject; Sex. Your body and mind leave your soul every moment you tried doing the most remote action like making out — you suck at it.

Perhaps it’s because you’re not comfortable enough with the person? Or maybe the idea of being sexually active is a new concept to you. This puts you at a frustrating disadvantage. You want to experience what it is like to be held by another person, to be worshipped and loved by every curve you have. You really want to experience intimacy. Someone’s hands holding your waist with fingers scrolling circles on your bare skin. Dancing out in heavy rain? Angry makeouts. Jealousy. You want to experience those rollercoasters of emotions. But you can’t because you’re missing the second person. This was no way a one man action.

That was until an opportunity arises. The boy in your class that wasn’t so good at any of his classes, barely scraping by. He had a thick foreign accent - and he never stops boosting about how he’s from Canada. He was visibly attractive. Most girls in your class fancy him.

Mark never really spent his day alone. Ever. There will always be people surrounding him. It’s like this was his world and we’re all just living in it you know?

“Hey Y/n,” A voice strikes up from behind. The boy standing only few inches from your height with a beige cap on backwards. It gave him a real bandboyish look today.

Your eyes dart to him. At first you look visibly confused but you manage to respond with a very soft greet. “Hey what’s up?”

You guys barely talk so this was all very new. The most talks you ever did was a simple ‘good morning’ to each other and never speak again. In fact this felt very awkward on your end.

Mark’s eyes look on the very left end of the lockers. The built tone body wearing these very baggy clothing press up on the metallic doors. Voice trailing off in an obvious direction. “Uhh, you know nothin’ much. The usual you know how it is.”

‘Yikes why does he look suddenly so guilty and suspicious?’ You question in your own mind. What was this strange feeling in your stomach? Like a hollow pit about to explode.

You mumbles quietly. “Right…”

Turning around your locker slams shut. The stuff you needed was carried by your arms. You thought this conversation had ended considering Mark wasn’t spitting out anything he wanted to say but the moment your back had turned on him, the boy quickly leaps in front of your path.

“Wait!” Mark stops you with two hands urgently.

You stop now with a small shock spread on your eyebrows and a visible streak of annoyance in your eyes.

“Tutor me! I want you to tutor me,” Mark said with a little pant to those syllables he stressed out with a stretch. Those hands come down and it really looks like for a moment he was embarrassed to ask. As if he had no idea how to ask you.

That’s all he wanted from you. It was a tutoring lesson so he could boost his grade up. Because lord knows he needs a good number. Otherwise he is finished with this class.

Your eyes line themselves on the boy. “You want me to tutor you?” You repeated back, Mark gave a simple nod. “Why me? You could have asked someone else.”

He furrows those eyebrows. “You seem- cool enough.” Mark then paused and panicked. Your expression seems unhappy by that anticlimactic response. “I mean! Your notes are cool and easy to understand. You explain things well.”

Well that came out wrong, what he wanted to say is you’re cool enough and you’re the smartest in the class. He doesn’t think he ever saw you get a bad grade.

Deep in your heart you couldn’t say no. Mark seems to be desperate for your help and you technically had an alternative motive. As bad as that sounds you can actually imagine losing your first deed to Mark. He was handsome, without a doubt you maybe fantasised getting off to him before. You don’t want to admit it but you did it more than once.

He was the new boy, wild and bright. Radiant and sweet. He was respectful, popular with everyone he hardly has any enemies. No one could hate a guy like Mark. He was a foreign exchange student from Canada and what more, he was an amazing soccer player last year. He won for your school club a trophy. He’s done pretty remarkable things.

Except his classes, which he severely needs your help with.

Sitting down in your bedroom, you constantly glance over to Mark who was sitting on the other end of your bed writing down on his notebook. To which your mind was at a war between asking him if he wants to do something else or if you should leave your stupid idea behind.

You are lost on how to approach the idea to him. You can’t just say ‘Hey let’s sleep together!’ And look like a sane person. Because that’s the opposite of normal. You barely know the guy too.

Your body lifts up your sweater and you nervously laugh it off. “Ahh it’s so hot, right? I should take this off.” Your hands pull off the warm fabric off your limbs and Mark looks up from his notes to glance at you. He looks at you for good three seconds.

The good look on your visible black tank top and cleavage exposing caught his eye but not enough for him to grasp your intentions. Instead Mark continues his work like the champ he was. Unbothered and gullible.

“Yeah? I feel normal.” Mark relies obliviously. You furrow your eyebrows and feel your stomach clench. Why was it so hard to ask Mark to have sex with you? It’s like the most difficult question for you.

And you never struggled with math questions before. You can’t believe it. Why was a simple risky move harder than school work.

He went back to doing his work. Thankfully you’re an amazing tutor so far your explanations did wonders for Mark. But you’re sat there staring at him with your eyes gawking.

You’re like an eagle pouncing, but you’re hesitant at the same time.

The boy did take notice of your stares and very acknowledged presence. But he didn’t know why and he doesn’t quite want to ask you, because what if that makes you pressured and embarrassed? Mark felt however very watched. Every movement of his pen. Every step of his breathing he makes on the same bed you’re sitting with him on.

It felt discomforting almost?

You clear your voice. “Mark have you ever had…” you pause because you’re suddenly getting to know how intrusive you are being. The boy’s head lifts up and he waits for you to finish.

“Have you ever had sex?” You begin again. You bite on your inner cheek which starts to make Mark flustered. From such a smart and disciplined girl you really have a way of starting conversations.

Mark nodded. “Yeah. Did you?”

Even if it was an inappropriate comment, Mark didn’t lie about it and he answered you truthfully. The boy didn’t know what to say at first. But what’s the harm in saying yes?

You don’t reply and you move a little closer to Mark holding your knees against your chest. Wearing shorts came in handy because Mark can see a full outline of your beautiful legs.

“What was your first time like?” You ask without answering him. Mark raised up his eyebrow thinking to himself. “Uhh,” he sits up on the mattress.

Mark brushed the pen down on the notebook. “I think it was with my girlfriend at the time.” You fully expected him to say some chick at the party but knowing his ex girlfriend was his first time, made this somehow really sweet and romantic.

Mark mumbles. “But what was your like?”

Your lips fell in a thin line. In an embarrassing way you turn away your gaze when your reply hits the taller quick.

“Mark I am a virgin,” You said it with a moment of clarity. He wasn’t sure why you’re still a virgin when you’re decently attractive and hella smart.

It somehow doesn’t make any sense.

Mark’s mouth drops like an umbrella sheet. “No way.” And you nod to show its the truth. Mark laughs a bit not in a mocking way but in a sense of disbelief to lighten up your mood.

He could tell you’re almost ashamed but he didn’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of. In any case he wonders if that’s a positive more than a con.

“Hey Y/n that’s not a bad thing you know that right?” He nudges your arms with his elbow with a smile.

You sigh a little. “I know but I want to experience it. I don’t really care about my virginity that much.”

“So how come you’re still a virgin? You’re pretty and smart.” Mark chuckles, he didn’t quite understand it. If you wanted to lose your virginity card so badly how come you still have it?

Your eyes look at him, your chance to tell him how clueless you are when it comes to sex arises. A part of you don’t want to tell him you’re bad at sex because that’s really embarrassingly stupid. Or the fact that you have no idea how to do anything. You can’t even figure out how kissing goddamn works!

You swallow down your own emotions. “I have no idea how to have sex.”

Moments later your eyes have glued together in what seems to be a staring competition. Mark didn’t think you’d be completely clueless. It came so naturally to him when he was about to do it for the first time. To you this was like a big deal.

Mark comes forward mumbling nervously. “You don’t know how to kiss either?” You shake your head a no.

The boy was silent until his eyes fell down to your lips. They look pretty, they seem very red and plum. He couldn’t grasp it but the guts clench in a sudden contraction.

“Do you want me to teach you?” Mark starts to ask you. Your face fell to the ground or it rather feels like it. He read your mind.

He was so nervous about it, he didn’t want to come off like a freaking creep to you. Little does he know you were begging for this offer.

He trails. “You know — like exchange lessons? You helped me with science and I can help with sex lessons.”

That doesn’t sound too bad to you. The deal was appealing. Your eyes sparkle up and come forward to kiss his lips. When you did the first gesture this said a lot to the boy before you. You were agreeing. You didn’t back away, your eyes were glowing at the idea of him teaching you what to do during sexual encounters. And thus, he opens his mouth slipping in slowly his tongue. Caressing your soft untouched mouth was like a dream come true. You were like melting ice the moment your mouth felt the warmth of the salivas mixing in as one. The kiss was slow at the beginning but occasionally you got the hang of the pace and Mark decided to spice it up.

He had to spice it up for you. Mark wanted to show you how it really is. What it really awaits you. The kiss springs from the bottom, a sudden piercing movement shocks you causing your moans to fall off.

Did he just bite your bottom lip? He smirks at your reaction and pulls you down on the bed. Hovering above your lean shoulders those grabby hands touch on your waist to position you a little downwards to his liking.

Mark kissed your neck, your jawline, down the side to your ears and your shoulders once your top slips off leaving you in your bra.

Your bra was a pretty blue colour. Mark smiles at your chest in slight adoration. Your eyes took a glimpse of his eyes and his lips have small kisses to your chest, to the cleavage. In between your breasts he brushed his face into the softness of your pillows.

“You know I’m surprised you’re a virgin.” He begins quietly, travelling his mouth down to your stomach till your navel touches.

Your feet curl up. This was somehow nerve wrecking but it feels good? But it’s so slow and it’s like he’s bringing you to rest.

“Why?” You ask out quietly.

Mark mumbles when his fingers reach the very entrance of your panty lining. He stops at your abdomen monitoring the shorts he took off. Your panty matches the colour to your lovely bra. You feel so warm between the flat stomach, his fingers slip your panties down to your legs half way.

Eyes look up to see your face. “You strike me as someone who knows everything.” He might be right. You come across as reliable person.

But you don’t know everything unfortunately, you’re only human and you doubt that Mark knows absolutely everything too. You smile shyly and close your thighs together.

This was embarrassing. You never really went further than kissing someone badly before. He could see everything but the moment your legs shut him off Mark gave a small nudge with his hands to pull your thighs apart gently.

“No hiding Y/n come on? Open up for me.”

Your hands cover your face as your legs open up like two doors. Mark smiles in awe but you couldn’t see that. The boy kissed your entrance, like a peck to the lips until those same lips kiss the inner thighs. He loved seeing your legs trembling from nothing but nervousness.

You really are a small ball of wreck.

He quietly says. “You’re pretty down there why are you so worried?”

He didn’t quite understand what was making you this anxious and you shudder when his tongue does kitten lick motions to your pussy. You’re unable to make any sense of what just happened, but all you know is that this feels too good to stop.

Tongue traps at your nub flicking his motions in left and right directions: your pelvis subtly lifts off the bed to roll back. Mark hums against your entrance, he was devouring you as if it’s his first time too. It feels too good for you and that’s what’s making him get off the whole idea: You feeling good.

His tongue went inside your small hole giving it a few thrusts of his tongue. His nose pressed right against your clit. Your burning hot skin flushes his face and your thighs squeeze when your stomach clenches so tightly. Without a warning you slip into oblivion.

Mumbling out highly. “Fuckfuckfuck m’gonna cum.”

Striving to give you the best orgasm of your life, Mark feverishly sucks on your edging pearl, your clit was practically swollen and this pushed you right off the edge just as he wanted you to. He was watching up at you from down there seeing your spine arch and your moans hit the back of your throat, so hoarse and sore. The way your eyes shut and your hands grip at anything nearby: the bed sheets, your breasts, his thick hair.

Pulling out of your wet slimey pussy from all the coating of saliva. You take a deep breath, Mark positions him above you he saw your bright reddish cheeks and your sparkling wet eyes. You look beautiful like this.

He whispers. “Do you still want to continue?”

Your mind was a fog but you never hesitated to reply to your classmate. “Yes, please.”

It’s definitely a sight to see. You’re being so adamant about it. Mark leans down and pulls down his rock solid crotch out. Those jeans slipped off and it leaves an ugly feeling when you’re hard in jeans.

It feels like a big weight lifted from him when it comes off. The boy sits back and gave you a glance as if he is telling you to come forward.

“Do you want to take the boxers off?” You heard him ask you. Your eyes light up and with your small hands pulling off his boxers. Mark gave you a dark gaze when his large cock springs up against his stomach. Your mouth waters just looking at it.

Your stomach made a small butterfly clutch too. You look at him in panic. “Whoa wait, will that fit?” You sound so dumbfounded. But Mark grinned and he rubs your thighs reassuringly.

“It can, it will. Trust me on this I’m the teacher here.”

He was right he was the teacher here and you’re just a mere helpless virgin. You lay down on the bed sheets when Mark moves on top of you his hard tip had to do a few teasing streaks on your entrance. You were anticipating him to just ram it in — but he wasn’t.

You were just impatient and Mark was a very patient guy who didn’t want to rush a process like this. At least for now he doesn’t have anywhere to be, what’s the rush right?

The tip was pushed out and back in, it was like a car reverse and driving forward. Your entrance was locked tight so Mark wants to stretch you out with just the tip. He had a feeling he might have to use two fingers before anything else is to happen. The boy pressed his thumb and rubs your clit. You mumble out a whine, and then his singular finger goes inside you just to do a little stretch here and there. The second finger was when it starts to feel too good for you. Your eyes shut and your voice starts to feel good.

He made his hand shake a little and then come out. Only for his tip to slip in fully in you and then gradually expand his shaft inside your pussy. You feel good, Mark was addicted to the feeling of his cock buried in your velvety new walls.

He grunts, his breath shaking. “Ah fuck Y/n, you feel better than i thought you would.”

It took every ounce of his body not to rut against you like a wild fucking beast, Mark moves up against your stomach. Your hands tremble upwards to hold his forearms.

“Mh! Fuck, it kind of hurts.” Your voice murmurs and the boy had his attention all on you. He was watching only your face when his body did the moving thing. When you told him it kind of hurts, Mark had a feeling the pain will turn to pleasure soon for you. All he could do was give a small ‘shh’ and a kiss on the forehead for you.

You’re kind of glad Mark is your first. He seems to be gentle and loving enough for this. If it was anyone else you don’t think they would be as supportive as he was to you.

A simple kiss on the forehead made your worries disappear. And you let him rut against your pussy that squelches on his shape, taking every single inch of his cock until he was balls deep.

He was right, the pain did turn to pleasure real soon.

He brushed some of your hair back from your face as his thrusts connect to his pivoting muscles and hips. Mark admires your honesty expressions too, he couldn’t help himself. You were pretty even in this state.

The boy brushed down your jawline, he leans to capture a kiss on your lips. Your voice slips off like a breathy breeze. “Mark — feels too good.”

He smiles down at you. “I know,”

Your thighs wrap themselves on his waist and that brought him deeper in a whole new position when he is pushing in your loving arms. And then you feel a strong urge in the stomach, something that’s about to explode.

Your eyebrow ends connect, furrowing. “M’think I’m gonna cum…”

You didn’t exactly know but the feeling was so intense it overlaps your hearing and your brain goes back moments later after the surging sensation washes over you.

Mark feels you cumming right on his cock, he grits his teeth together jawline attached with his remaining strength.

“Me too, I’m close, hold on.” He mumbles lowly until he fucks himself just enough to pull out of you and then flick his wrist down the shaft to paint you of his cum on your bare stomach.

Deeply breathing the boy pulls back on the bed, you achingly sit up with a small groan. You never felt your body become this sore.

Your eyes watch Mark as the boy brushed back his hair with his hand. You both look like visible messes. Sweating and panting.

Your lips curve into a small smile. “So, do you need help with anything else in your classes?”

Mark gave a visible chuckle somehow it feels like you’re going to be more of a distraction when you’re going to tutor him than he likes to believe.

“Uhh, let’s see.” He replies, looking at the studying materials you guys left unattended on the floor. Scattered is the right word more like.

“I think I prefer to Exchange Lessons.” He admits, causing you to chuckle.

Mark thinks you do too, considering you’re not disagreeing.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you!! Follow my blog for more and reblog it helps a girl out<3 ily

[crushmeeren]

Hi, I know you aren’t taking requests right now but I didn’t want to forget it so I’m sending it now for Whenever you open request again.

How do you think the MHA boys would react to your new mom body and “you” being unsure about it. If can be fluffy and/or NSFW

Thank you! 🙂

hi anonnie! sorry for leaving this in my inbox for so long, kinktober was a BITCH. anywho, hope you enjoy and that I included the characters you wanted!

master list link

༝ ᭝ ༝ katsuki ༝ ᭝ ༝

Katsuki’s tired. His bones ache with exhaustion, and he wears dark, bruise like marks underneath his eyes that seem to weigh a thousand pounds. The bright light of his phone screen burns his eyes when he checks for the time.

03:30 a.m.

Katsuki moves gently as he sways back and forth in the rocking chair, his three month old furnace of a son snoozing peacefully on his chest. Finally.

One hand rubs up and down his baby’s back, the other arm supporting his butt. His son babbles softly in his sleep, and Katsuki tilts his head to press a kiss to soft wisps of blonde hair, lingering to deeply inhale the scent of new baby and lavender lotion. Red eyes start to droop, the flutter of his son’s heartbeat and his constant warmth lulling Katsuki to sleep.

His head jerks up with a start, desperately trying to stay awake, and so he rises to his feet, sweatpants falling a bit lower on his hips. With a quietness he’s never possessed before, Katsuki delicately lays his baby down without waking him. He pauses in the doorway, smiling tenderly in the direction of the crib before padding to your bedroom.

Katsuki’s ears perk when muffled sniffling greets him. Alarm bells ring in his head and he all but leaps into the bed, yanking the covers down to stare at you with wide eyes. The soft light of your bedside lamp exposes your tear stricken cheeks.

His stomach drops and then he’s crowding you, shoving himself into your personal space. “Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” He asks gingerly, brows furrowing as stretches his tank top to wipe your tears away.

Your lower lip wobbles when you bite down on it, and you launch yourself into Katsuki’s chest, knocking him onto his back with an “oof.” You shove your face into the side of his throat, arms curling as you cling to him.

“I can’t stand the way I look!” You sob, lips tickling his skin as you speak. Katsuki wraps you up in a tight hug, heart continuously splintering with each one of your labored sobs. “I love our son, so much, but looking in the mirror hurts.”

“Oh baby.” Katsuki’s voice cracks, firm hands framing your wet cheeks and guiding you to your elbows. He needs you to see the serious look his eyes. “Change is hard, but change is so fuckin’ good. You may not look exactly the same as before, but there’s not a damn thing wrong with that. You created our fuckin’ son. There’s nothin’ more beautiful to me in this world than that.” There are stars in his eyes as he gazes at you, cementing his belief in his own words.

Your expression crumples and you collapse onto his chest, soaking his shirt in tears as you hug him. “You promise?” You sniffle, tone a bit more hopeful than before.

“I swear on my fuckin’ life.” Katsuki secures you in his hold and rolls the two of you, hovering on one elbow as he pushes loose hair off your forehead. “Please, will you let me show you?”

The flush on your face forces a familiar honeyed heat to pool low in Katsuki’s belly, your sheepish nod all the permission he needs.

You gasp softly when his fingers slip your panties to the side, fingers barely touching your clit. It’s effortless for him to fill you completely with his thick cock, to press sweet words into your throat as he makes love to you. His chest is sticky with sweat, and you can’t get enough of the way he whines high pitched each time your pleasure overwhelms you and your pussy squeezes him.

Katsuki quite literally shows you how beautiful you are to him, and when you’re cradled on his chest afterwards, you start to believe that you are.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

༝ ᭝ ༝ shouto ༝ ᭝ ༝

“Will you shower with me?”

The lingering memories of warm water raining down on his skin, steam curling up into the air and your naked body run across Shouto’s mind. You raise an eyebrow in return, lifting your daughter from her high chair when she reaches for you.

“I don’t know, Sho.” Your gaze flickers to the side, avoiding direct eye contact. Shouto’s brows pinch together, frowning at your uncharacteristically shy response.

“Why?” It’s been ages since you’ve showered together. Since you’ve had sex, really. Not that he’s upset, he’s enamored with your daughter, but he misses you. A lot.

“I just don’t want to,” you say sharply, turning your back to him and walking towards your kitchen sink. Your tone doesn’t sit well with Shouto and he follows after you. He places a hand on your shoulder, hurt welling in his chest when you stiffen at his touch.

He lets his hand fall limply to his side. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. I want to understand.”

You sigh almost imperceptibly, slowly shifting to face him, and you hike your daughter further up on your hip. She giggles when she spots her daddy, little hands grabbing for him, and Shouto scoops her up with a loving smile.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” you mutter, eyes trained on the back of your daughter’s head, softly brushing white hair behind her ears.

Shouto blinks a few times. “What do you mean?”

“You know, with the hideous scars and all.”

“Oh.” The silence is deafening. You freeze, eyes widening as your head snaps upwards with a horrified expression. Your jaw opens and closes as you clutch his forearm in a death grip.

“Sho, no — wait, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry—,”

“Do you believe that I’m ugly? Even with my scar?” He asks, not unkindly.

You shake your head vigorously. “No, of course not! I think you’re beautiful the way you are.”

Shouto hums, hugging your daughter tightly to his chest. She grabs his shoulders, nuzzling her face into his neck. “So what leads you to believe it’s any different for me?”

“I didn’t think of it that way,” you admit, shrugging lamely, unable to come up with an answer. Shouto wordlessly laces his free hand with yours, and after settling your baby down for the night, he ushers you to your bathroom.

There’s no need to speak when Shouto helps you strip out of your clothes, goosebumps littering your arms when the fingertips of his left hand chill involuntarily and tickle your ribs. He’s bare within the minute, leading you under the hot spray of water in the next.

Shouto walks you backwards and presses you to the cool tile of the wall, steam circling upwards and suffocating the two of you. You grasp at his slippery shoulders, tilting your head while he leaves biting kisses along your throat. Shouto traces the c-section scar along your belly as if it’s something precious, touch featherlight before guiding you to flip and brace your hands on the wall.

The initial stretch of his cock sends a shiver of heat down your spine. The humid atmosphere making everything that much slicker, that much hotter. He places his hands over your scar to steady himself and holds you close, rolling his hips steadily until you’re crying his name and pushing at his belly because it’s too much.

Shouto’s determined to show you everyday that scars are to be cherished. They’re apart of you, and not a single inch of you could ever be ugly to him.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

༝ ᭝ ༝ eijirou ༝ ᭝ ༝

It’s date night, and your fingers twitch with nerves as you finish putting up your hair. The two of you haven’t been able to go out alone for the past several months. Having a new baby is ruthless. It’s not for the weak, but you love every second of it, and you’re certain Eijirou does too.

It’s just…. You look different, now. Your body’s shifted and changed in ways you never imagined, but you wouldn’t trade your son for the world. It’s just taking more time than you expected to get adjusted in your new body.

Eijirou’s bright voice echoes in the living room, and your son’s echoing delighted peal of laughter warms your chest. With a defeated sigh, you glance at yourself in the mirror and smooth your hands over your stomach, tugging at your shirt.

Eijirou calls out to you and you tell him you’re ready, slipping on your shoes and mustering up enough fake confidence to fool your husband for the evening. When you round the corner, he’s pretending to toss your son up into the air, little happy squeals filling the air. You lock eyes with your husband and genuinely smile, halting next to them and kissing your baby all over his face.

Eijirou kisses him too, reluctantly handing him over to his mother, who graciously volunteered to be on babysitting duty for the night. Once you’re out, Eijirou’s positive energy is infectious, fueling all of his actions and tainting yours too.

Still, a voice in the back of your mind nags at you about your appearance, and gradually your demeanor wilts. Eijirou notices, but he tries to lift your spirits anyways, wanting to save the serious conversation for when you get home. He wants you to enjoy yourself for the time being.

Eijirou gives you space when you return home. He gives you space when you bid his mother goodbye and when you put your son down for the night.

But as soon as you’re alone, Eijirou’s holding your hands and walking backwards until he lands on the edge of the bed, guiding you to sit in his lap and straddle his thighs. He stares up at you, settling his hands on your hips with a puzzled look.

“What’s on your mind my love? You seemed distracted tonight,” he squeezes your hips encouragingly. You purse your lips together, squeezing your eyes shut in the face of your self loathing as you confess how you’ve been feeling.

“So yeah, it’s just been a struggle recently. I’m worried you won’t love me the same because of how different I look now.” You bite the inside of your lip, waiting on edge for his response.

“Look at me,” he demands, gentle yet firm, as always. Your eyes flash open and he places a large hand on your cheek. “Sweetheart, you’ve changed multiple times since we’ve met, and I’ve only ever thought you’ve gotten more beautiful. It’s no different this time. Your feelings are valid of course, but just know you’ve always been, and always will be, the stunning woman I fell in love with. Until death do us part, right?”

You’re can’t be held responsible for the bruising kiss you startle him with. Warm lips and the faint hint of Eijirou’s cologne filling your head with cotton and making your heart thunder. Actions mean more than words, and your husband demonstrates the truth of that statement.

He manhandles you to the side of your bed where a mirror rests on the wall across from you, bending you into some half form of a full Nelson to force you into a front row seat of your pussy swallowing his cock. Eijirou hooks his chin over your shoulder and the heat in his eyes burns you alive. He whispers filthy praise into your ear, sending you over the edge in record time.

Eijirou will remind you of your beauty each day for the rest of your lives, if that’s what it takes.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)

summary: harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension?

words: 6k

warnings: smut, fluff. p in v sex (on the ice rink 🤭), kissing, dirty talk, cursing, creampie.

Harry tied the laces on his hockey skates tightly. His fingers were rough and calloused from years of practice. He could hear sounds coming from the rink - ice being scraped by skates, pucks hitting the boards, the coach's whistle. Harry gave his laces one final tug before grabbing his stick. 

He paused for a moment, taking in the familiar sights, sounds, and smells. The chilly air made goosebumps form on his arms. The rink was like a second home to him. Hockey wasn't just a sport - it was a huge part of who he was.

"Harry! Get out here!" one of his teammates yelled from the rink. They had already started drills.  

Harry grinned and headed out of the locker room. The cold air hit his face. He breathed it in deeply. The icy smell, the rubber pucks, the sweaty aroma - it all felt comforting to Harry. To others it might smell bad, but to him it smelled like the game he loved.

Harry stepped onto the ice and immediately relaxed. Gliding across the smooth surface, he fell in line with his teammates. They were doing intense drills - racing across the ice, passing pucks back and forth. Harry focused hard, practicing his puck handling, skating agility, and wrist shots.

"Keep it up, Styles! Work hard and you'll make it to the big leagues one day!" Coach Bradford yelled from the bench in his gravelly voice.

Motivated, Harry accelerated with a burst of speed. He weaved through cones and ripped slapshots on goal. By the end, he was drenched in sweat, hair matted to his forehead. 

Finally, the coach's whistle blew, signaling the end of practice. Harry stayed out, picking up scattered pucks, while his teammates headed off the ice. Their skates dug trenches as they went.

"Coming for pints later, Styles?" one of the guys called out to him with a grin.

"Think I'll stay and get some more practice in," Harry replied, already lining up pucks.

His friend chuckled and shook his head. "Course you will, ya hockey nut!"

Harry smiled to himself as he readied his stance at the face-off circle. He took some calming breaths, then launched slapshot after slapshot. Hockey was his happy place.

Suddenly, the sound of classical music echoed through the rink. Harry looked up, distracted, and saw a figure gliding onto the ice. It was Y/N, looking like an ethereal vision in her shimmery white skating outfit.  

Harry had seen Y/N around the rink before, but had never really paid attention. Now, he found himself utterly transfixed as she began gracefully spinning and leaping across the ice. Her every move was mesmerizing.

From his side of the rink, Harry gaped at Y/N in awe. He gripped his stick tightly as she performed effortless jumps and intricate spins. Her dance across the ice was like a carefully choreographed masterpiece.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off her. He watched, slack-jawed, as she launched herself into a triple lutz, rotating three times in the air before landing smoothly. Her practice was spellbinding.  

Y/N finally caught Harry staring at her from across the way. A flush spread over her cheeks, obvious even from a distance. She looked surprised to have an audience.

The tension broke when a rogue puck trickled across the ice, coming to a stop by Y/N's skates. She glanced down at it, then back at Harry.

"S-Sorry, didn't mean to bother you," Harry called out, feeling sheepish.

But Y/N just gave him a shy smile that dazzled him. "No worries, the rink's for sharing."

And just like that, the Hockey stud and the figure skating beauty shared their first interaction and smiles across the expanse of frozen ice.

Over the next few nights, Harry intentionally stayed late after hockey practice. Sure enough, Y/N was always there too, gracefully practicing her routines to soaring instrumental music. 

At first they kept their distance, staying on opposite sides of the rink. They exchanged polite hellos and "excuse me's" anytime they ventured close.

But Harry couldn't resist furtively watching Y/N whenever she attempted a jump or spin. The way she commanded the ice captivated him. Her movement was powerful yet delicate, athletic yet graceful. 

For her part, Y/N tried not to overtly gape at Harry as he drilled his hockey skills. But it was difficult to ignore his intensity and ferocity as he powerfully strode across the ice, ripping slapshots or stickhandling between cones.

Little by little, over those next evenings together, Harry and Y/N started making small adjustments. They angled their practices closer and closer to the center of the rink. Neither commented on it, but some unseen force seemed to be drawing them in from opposite ends.

One night, as Y/N spun directly in front of where Harry prepped pucks, he gasped audibly. "Wow..."

Y/N looked up, making accidental eye contact. Their gazes locked and she couldn't help but give him a tiny, coy smile before whipping around seamlessly into her next spin sequence.

Mesmerized, Harry felt his heart thump in his chest. He knew firsthand how much work went into athletic excellence like Y/N's skating. But there was also an indescribable artistry to the way she moved in tune with the music. It was spellbinding.

Harry was shaken from his trance by a puck smacking his shinguards. "Earth to Styles! You still with us, mate?" one of his teammates chirped with a grin from the bench.

Embarrassed to be caught ogling, Harry just sheepishly rubbed his neck. Over the past week of sharing the rink with Y/N, he had definitely lost some focus during team practices.  

He took a steadying breath and refocused on drills with renewed intensity. But even as he rejoined his linemates, he couldn't stop sneaking peeks through the corner of his eye at the lithe figure skater.

Later, just as the music crescendoed to a finish, Harry heard the distinct whisper of skates approaching him. He turned to find Y/N gliding to a stop nearby, cheeks delicately flushed from exertion and wispy hairs stuck to her neck with perspiration.

"You have really great puck control," she remarked shyly.

Harry's mouth went a little dry at her proximity and floral scent mixing with the icy air. "Th-thanks. And your skating is just...amazing."

Y/N let out a tinkling laugh at his flustered words. "Actually, I was going to ask if maybe you could give me some hockey tips sometime? It could really help with my edgework and connecting to the ice."

"Yeah, seriously? Of course!" Harry eagerly agreed before she even finished asking. He would've said yes to virtually any request to spend more time around this entrancing girl. "But uh, I should warn you...I'm a pretty intense coach," he added with a lopsided grin.

Y/N just playfully rolled her eyes. "I can definitely handle you."  

She skated backwards a few strides, flashing him a brilliant smile that made his heart flutter. "So I'll see you out here again tomorrow night then...Coach?"

Harry nodded, unable to contain his own wide smile. "It's a date."

A strange new energy seemed to crackle between them in the cold rink air. Harry's gaze lingered on Y/N as she glided off elegantly, unable to tear his eyes away from the hypnotic sway of her hips beneath her gossamer skating skirt.

As soon as she disappeared into the locker room, Harry let out a long exhale he didn't realize he'd been holding. He felt completely bewitched by this girl - her beauty, her talent, her effortlessly disarming presence.  

For years, hockey had been Harry's sole obsession, his all-consuming priority. But in this moment, he could feel another obsession taking hold - one with this sublime, mysterious figure skater who had seemingly materialized into his life. 

Gathering up the scattered pucks, Harry definitely sensed that tomorrow's "hockey lesson" was bound to be interesting...

***

The next evening, Harry arrived at the rink extra early, feeling uncharacteristically anxious. His stomach was doing bizarre somersault twists - an unusual sensation for him before stepping out onto the ice. Normally the rink was his haven, the one place he felt most at home and at peace. But tonight, he was practically vibrating with nervous anticipation.

Harry had been distracted all day, struggling to focus during classes and his morning workout at the gym. Tonight's private "lesson" with Y/N kept replaying over and over in his mind like a maddeningly catchy song stuck on repeat. He couldn't quite put his finger on why the prospect of helping her with hockey drills made him so jittery. It's not like he'd never tutored teammates or younger players before. 

But something about the thought of being alone on the ice with the lithe, beautiful figure skater sent Harry's heart fluttering in a way he'd never experienced. Usually so self-assured and confident, Harry was uncharacteristically self-conscious as he laced up his skates tonight. He fussed over making sure his wild chestnut hair didn't look too disheveled, and discreetly applied some of his musky cologne before leaving the locker room.

Stepping out onto the dimly-lit rink, Harry gave himself a little pep talk to quell his inexplicable nerves. "Come on, Styles, get it together. It's just a bloody skating lesson, for fuck's sake. You've been playing hockey since you could walk! What's there to be nervous about?"

But then his breath hitched as he spotted Y/N already out on the ice, gently coasting along with her arms hugged around herself. She seemed to almost glow in the soft lighting, a breathtaking vision in her sleek athletic attire that clung to every tantalizing curve. Her lithe form effortlessly flowed with each stride across the smooth ice.

Sensing she wasn't alone anymore, Y/N slowed to a stop and turned to face Harry with a shy smile. "Oh! Hey there, Coach. Shall we get started then?"

"Y-Yeah, of course! Let's do this," Harry replied with an overcompensating bravado, giving his head a little shake as if to dispel his nerves.

Y/N giggled at his awkward bravado, the tinkling sound making Harry's heart skip a beat. "Don't look so tense! It's just me."

Her teasing only made Harry feel more flustered as a smile tugged at his lips. "Exactly. It's...just you."

They both let those words hang there heavy between them for a moment, their eyes locked together across the wide ice. Then, as if through unspoken agreement, they simultaneously broke into laughter at their own silly tension.

"Right, okay then! Let's start with some basic stickhandling and power skating drills," Harry finally announced in his best "coaching" voice, scooping up a few pucks.

"Lead the way, Coach Styles!" Y/N gamely agreed with a grin.

For the next little while, some of Harry's nerves settled as he fell back into that familiar pattern of running drills, feeling assured and authoritative in his element. He put Y/N through a series of intense stickhandling routines - dribbling the puck between complicated cone patterns, making tight turns while handling the puck in circles, deking around obstacles with fast crossovers.

To her credit, Y/N worked diligently and didn't complain once, even when sweat began dampening her brow. Her exceptional skating prowess and coordination definitely helped her pick up hockey skills quickly. But the occasional fumbles and slips still drew some gentle teasing from Harry.

"Not quite, figure skater! You've got to keep your edges lower on crossovers," he tutted, flashing her a smirk as she wobbled slightly after messing up a pivot.

"Oh do forgive me, your Highness! Some of us don't have as much practice making aggressive cuts back and forth, you know!" she shot back with a laugh, planting her hands on her hips.

"No excuses, no excuses! How else are you gonna improve?" Harry quipped, skating lazy circles around Y/N while she caught her breath. His gaze kept drifting down to the sheen of sweat glistening along the graceful curve of her neck.

They fell into an easy back-and-forth banter, with Harry analyzing her form and gently course correcting when needed. For her part, Y/N chirped right back and seemed utterly unafraid to get a little sassy with her "coach."

At one point, after completing a rapid succession of puck handling sequences, Harry noticed a few loose strands of Y/N's hair had escaped her French braid to stick damply against her flushed face and neck. Before he could even really process the impulse, Harry found himself reaching out to gently brush the damp locks behind her ear.

Both of them froze at the sudden intimate gesture. Harry opened his mouth to quickly apologize for the overstep. But the words died in his throat when he glanced up and found Y/N gazing at him through hooded lids, her coy smile and flushed cheeks making his heart restart with a hard thud.

"I, uh...think you're ready to move on to some shooting drills now," Harry rasped in a low tone, reluctantly taking a step back and scooping up a few pucks.

They settled into the familiar rhythm of Harry rapidly feeding Y/N pucks while she whipped shot after shot towards the empty net. Her skating power and edgework were superb as she leaned into the lightning-fast wristers, putting her full body weight behind every blistering attempt on goal.

But as the drill progressed, Harry could see Y/N's form gradually getting sloppier as fatigue set in. Her shots lost some of their zip, her tight core beginning to hunch over. When one weak wrister fluttered harmlessly wide of the net, Harry blew his whistle to pause the action.

"Take a break for a minute, get some water," he urged in a tone much gentler than his usual coaching bark. Harry skated over to the bench and grabbed his own water bottle, downing a long pull. He watched Y/N do the same out of the corner of his eye as she bent over, those same wispy strands of hair falling to curtain her flushed face once more.

As she straightened back up, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat at the way Y/N's tight athletic top clung to her curves, damp with perspiration. He subconsciously licked his lips, feeling his mouth go dry with a sudden burst of dizzying arousal. Quickly looking away, Harry scrubbed a hand through his wild locks and cleared his throat roughly.

"Not bad at all for your first go with hockey drills. You've definitely got the fundamentals down pat."

Y/N shot him a radiant smile, seeming utterly unaware of the effect she was having on her coach as she smoothed back her sweaty hair. "Well, I do have an awfully good teacher pushing me hard."  

"Don't sell yourself short," Harry countered, feeling his pulse spike at her playful flirtiness. He tried to keep his tone casual, but his voice still came out a bit lower and rougher than intended. "Your strong core, killer edges, and flexibility from skating give you a really solid base for hockey skills."

"Why Coach Styles, are you saying I have...a killer body?" she teased, enjoying how flustered she could make the supremely confident hockey stud.

Harry's jaw dropped open, her boldness utterly disarming him. "I-I, well I didn't...that's not exactly what I-"

But Y/N just giggled and skated backward, waving him off. "I'm just joking around! Let's keep going, yeah? But maybe take it a little easier since it's my first time handling your...stick."

She drew out the last two words with a salacious wink, throwing Harry completely off his game. His face reddened instantly, sputtering incoherently as an entirely different kind of tension suddenly clung thick in the air between them.

Seeming to realize she'd flustered her coach a bit too much, Y/N reigned in her playful teasing with an apologetic smile. "Too far?"

"No! No, it's...it's all good. Just caught me off guard is all," Harry said quickly, giving his head a little shake to clear it as a lopsided grin formed. Two could play at this flirtatious game. "Let's just say I'm happy to give you a few pointers on stick handling whenever you need it."

Y/N sent him an exaggerated wink, taking her position again. "Looking forward to it, Coach."

And just like that, the heavy undercurrent of sexual tension dissipated again as they refocused on their drills. But it was like a lingering spark had been lit between them, little flirty moments flickering to life occasionally as the practice session wore on.

At one point, Harry skated past closely behind Y/N to scoop up a rogue puck, making sure his firm chest brushed along her back ever-so-slightly. He definitely didn't miss the shiver that licked down her spine at the brief contact, even in the chill of the rink.

Another time, as he demonstrated a proper shooting stance with a high wrist shot, Y/N sidled up to his side. "Like this?" she murmured huskily, purposely pressing her lithe body flush against Harry's sculpted torso as she mimicked his firing motion.

Harry gulped thickly at their sudden intimate proximity, feeling his breath quicken. "Y-Yeah, just like that..." he rasped out, unable to tear his gaze from the delicate slope of Y/N's neck just inches away.

Oh, the smell of ice mixed with her intoxicating perfume, all he wanted to do was take a bite.

With a wicked grin, Y/N slowly extracted herself from Harry's personal space, leaving the poor guy almost dizzy and aching for her warmth again. This girl was going to be the death of him.

After nearly two hours of rigorous back-and-forth drilling, skating lap after lap across the rink, they were both finally drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Y/N paused for a long pull from her water bottle before tossing it aside carelessly and gliding right up to Harry with a gleam in her eye.

"I've got one last request for my hockey tutor..." she said in a low, sultry tone as she drew closer and closer until the heat of her body mingled with Harry's.

He swallowed hard, feeling his heart thundering beneath his sweat-soaked jersey. "Y-Yeah? What's that?"

With a sly grin, Y/N reached out and boldly rucked up the hem of Harry's jersey until it bunched up beneath his armpits. Then she openly raked her heated gaze over every toned inch of his sculpted abdomen and chest now deliciously exposed.

"I want you to show me..." she purred in a low, gravelly tone, "how you celebrate after scoring a big goal."

Harry felt like all the air had been punched from his lungs as her words and blazing look washed over him. He stood there frozen, abdominal muscles twitching beneath her roaming eyes. When she slowly dragged her tongue across her plump lower lip, Harry was utterly undone.

In one swift motion, he grabbed Y/N by the hips and hauled her flush against his body as he crashed his lips onto hers in a searing, desperate kiss. She gasped in surprise against his hungry mouth before instantly melting into the embrace, her fingers fisting into his damp hair.

Their kisses were immediately messy and uncoordinated, all instinct and pent-up longing as they finally gave in to the thick tension that had slowly simmered during their private lesson. Harry angled his head, deepening their liplock as his hands gripped Y/N's lithe waist almost punishingly. She rolled her hips shamelessly against the unmistakable bulge in his athletic pants, earned a guttural groan from Harry.

"Fuck...you're going to be the death of me, you bloody tease," he growled against the sleek column of her throat as his lips blazed a hot trail across her overheated skin.

Y/N laughed breathlessly, the sound shooting straight to Harry's groin. "I'd say I'm sorry...but I'm really, really not."

Growling again at her cheekiness, Harry abruptly spun them both and shoved Y/N up against the dasher boards, pinning her there with his body as his large hands roamed greedily over her petite frame. Bunching up her sleek workout top, he leaned down to trail openmouthed kisses along the soft swell of her belly and up between the lace-capped valley of her breasts.

Y/N squirmed and writhed shamelessly against Harry, little whimpery pants escaping her bitten lips as his calloused hands roamed every inch of her overheated skin finally bared to his wandering touch. Threading her fingers through his wild hair, she tugged his mouth back up to hers for another messy clash of dueling tongues and harsh breaths.

"Harry..." she whined out between electrifying kisses. "I want...I need..."

"What, love? Tell me what you need," he rasped against the swell of her parted lips, hips rutting shamelessly against her core as he pinned her harder to the unforgiving boards.

She gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, lust-darkened eyes, chest heaving. In answer, Y/N boldly reached down and cupped the  bulge tenting the front of Harry's pants. An audible groan punched out of him at her touch, his forehead thudding weakly against the brows by her head.

"Jesus...are you sure? Here on the rink like this?" he questioned, even as his hips grinded shamelessly into her exploring palm.

"I've never been more sure of anything," Y/N whispered urgently. She nipped at his kiss-swollen lower lip, peering back at him through dense lashes. "I want you so fucking badly right here, right now. Please, Harry...I need you inside me."

That was all the encouragement Harry needed before crashing his lips back to Y/N's in another messy, fiery kiss. One large hand slid around to cup her arse, grinding her core more firmly against the rigid length of him. She rewarded him with a broken whimper into his mouth.

With his free hand, Harry blindly tugged Y/N's leggings and knickers down in one impatient tug until they were a rumpled pool around her ankles. She quickly kicked them aside, spreading her thighs wantonly as Harry settled in the cradle of her hips.

They both groaned in unison as the their centres made contact, Harry's clothed length nestling snugly against Y/N's slick, molten heat. Reaching between their flush bodies, Y/N deftly freed Harry's straining cock to spring free from the confines of his pants. She traced the plump velvet head teasingly, drinking in Harry's desperate whine against her lips.

"Fuck me..." Harry panted, rutting shamelessly against her hand. "Y/N, please let me fuck you, baby."

That was all the encouragement she needed before guiding his broad tip to her entrance. They both cried out in unison as Harry bottomed out in one slick thrust forward, his thick cock fitting snugly inside her with a soft punch of air. The thick length prodded into her deliciously, kissing the back of her damp cervix. They stilled together for a wild heartbeat, trembling mouths and sweat-dampened foreheads pressed flush as they adjusted to the heady feeling of being so intimately connected.

Harry was the first to move, withdrawing his hips in a slow grind before slamming back home, driving a guttural moan from Y/N's parted lips. He set a punishing pace, his strong arms and thighs flexing with the effort of moving them both against the rigid boards. Y/N wrapped her toned legs high around his flexing hips, nails raking down his rigid back as he jackhammered into her welcoming body over and over.

“Oh fuck, Harry-just like that, like that, yeah–” Y/N moaned once more, grinding her hips against his pelvis, his cock twitching isnide her cunt at the sensation.

“Oh Jesus, you’re so damn hot, you know taht?” he panted into her mouth, their damp clothes sticking togtehr in a sweaty mess. But the way they made each other feel, it was all worth it.

They panted out harsh, shuddering breaths, slick skin slapping together obscenely in the silence of the empty rink. Y/N babbled out breathy moans and curses, struggling to muffle the loud echoes with her face buried in the sweaty curve of Harry's neck. She bit down on it occasionally, earning a groan from him as she paired it with desperate clenches around his length.

But her unraveling cries only spurred him on, his cock driving into her with rougher, more frantic strokes until they were both hovering right on the edge.  

With a few more powerful snaps of his hips, Y/N’s back arched like a bow and screamed out her climax, creamy inner walls fluttering spastically around Harry's thick length. The sudden gripping contractions yanked Harry's own orgasm from him in hot bursts as he brokenly shouted out his release, teeth sinking into the supple juncture of Y/N's neck and shoulder, something he had been waiting to do since teh night they met.

They clung together in a sweaty, panting jumble of sated limbs, chests heaving as they slowly drifted back to earth. Little aftershocks still rippled through them both until finally Harry drew his head back, blissfully dazed as he gazed at the thoroughly rumpled and glowing girl in his arms.

"Well...I'd say you definitely scored one hell of a goal," Y/N panted out breathlessly after a moment, trying for a coy smile despite her wild disarray.

Harry tipped his head back and laughed, the sound bright and carefree as he peppered fresh kisses along Y/N's heated cheek and jaw. "Lucky shot, beautiful..."

They held each other for a long stretch, neither willing to break the intimate embrace just yet despite the chilled rink air now raising goosebumps across their sweat-slickened skin. Harry nuzzled deeper against Y/N's neck, breathing in her lingering floral scent heavily tinged with sweat and arousal.  

Eventually though, Harry reluctantly eased Y/N's trembling legs back to the floor, steadying her with a firm arm around her waist. Looking around the dim rink with a lopsided smile, he gave a low chuckle at the state of complete disarray - sopping workout clothes, towels, and water bottles strewn everywhere around them, plus a naughty new addition of Y/N's lacy panties lying crumpled against the boards where their heated frenzied began.

Y/N looped her arms loosely around Harry's neck, her coy eyes sparkling with mirth as she gazed back at him adoringly. Harry leaned in again to capture her lips in a sensual, unhurried kiss, reveling in the taste and feel of her. When they finally broke apart again, he pressed his forehead to hers with a contented sigh.

"Fancy grabbing a pint with me when we're done cleaning up this unholy mess?" Harry murmured, pressing his forehead to Y/N's with a contented sigh. "I'll even let you order me around a bit more."

"Is that supposed to be an incentive?" Y/N countered with a throaty chuckle, lazily trailing her fingertips through the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. "Because I was rather enjoying calling the shots just now."

"Oh you cheeky minx," Harry growled playfully before surging in to capture her lips in another heated kiss. He walked them backwards until Y/N's back hit the boards again with a dull thud, caging her in with his body as his large hands roamed eagerly over her bare curves.

Y/N mewled softly into his ravenous mouth, welcoming the slide of his tongue stroking intimately against her own. Her limbs felt heavy and lax, muscles still tingling from the mind-blowing release mere minutes ago. But she could already feel a new ember of need beginning to stoke low in her belly as Harry's sweat-slicked skin glided feverishly against hers.

One of his big hands boldly slid down to cup her arse, hauling Y/N's pliant body flush to grind against the feel of his new arousall. She gasped at the electrifying friction, breaking their liplock on a broken whine.   

"Harry...already? I can barely feel my legs!"  

"Sorry love, what was that?" he rumbled right back, swirling his hips in a deliberate grind to drag his impressive length along her drenched folds. "Did you want me to stop?"  

"No! God no, please don't stop," Y/N hurriedly corrected on a breathless keen as Harry sealed his mouth over her thundering pulse point. His other large hand boldly palmed her breast, callused thumb rasping over her peaked nipple until she shuddered.  

"Good girl," he praised in a gravelly tone before biting down sharply on the tendon at the base of her throat.  

Y/N jolted with a strangled cry at the tantalizing sting, her back bowing sharply away from the unforgiving barrier at her spine as her legs instinctively scissored wider around Harry's hips. Lust roared through her veins again, thick and heady as their slick skin slid together with the beginnings of a fervent grind.  

Lips and teeth clashed in a heated duel once more, the rink filling with harsh pants and whines muffled against sweat-dampened skin. Harry was already throbbing and more than ready to bury himself back inside Y/N's snug, fluttering heat. But he purposefully held off, delighting in slowly winding them both into a lascivious frenzy with nothing but sinuous rolls of his hips and fervent caresses.  

"Need you inside me," Y/N groaned at last, using her heels to dig into Harry's firm arse and pull him infinitesimally closer until his rigid length prodded against her drenched entrance. "Harry please, I can't wait anymore. Fuck me again, love."  

He gave a gruff sound of approval at her shameless pleading, the authoritative command fueling his already ravenous lust into an outright inferno. Capturing her mouth in another seering kiss, Harry easily hitched Y/N's leg up over his hip before finally sheathing himself inside her with one powerful snap of his hips.  

They both cried out in unison at the feeling of being so intimately reconnected, Y/N's sweet whimper swallowed by Harry's desperate groan. He set an immediately brutal pace, pulling nearly all the way out before pounding back in with punishing strokes, letting the delicious tension coil and crescendo.  

Y/N's broken whimpers and moans filled the rink, echoing back at them from the vacant rafters as her petite frame was pinned and jolted by Harry's fervent tempos. One hand scrabbled at the abused boards behind her, trying in vain to find purchase as the other fisted and yanked wildly through Harry's sweat-dampened locks.  

"Yes! Yesyesyes..." she babbled mindlessly on each jarring upstroke that grinded deliciously against that molten front wall of nerves. "Oh fuck, Harry...just like that, god yes!"  

Harry only growled in response, using his bulk and powerful thighs to hammer into her molten core with somehow even more brutal strokes. His teeth found purchase on the feverish juncture of Y/N's neck and collar, sucking a blossom of arousal to the surface as his hips snapped forward in a punishing grind.  

It went on that way, the only sounds filling the rink their harshly mingled cries and the thunderous squelch of flesh meeting slickly in an unforgiving, wild rut. As they spiraled ever higher towards their mutual crescendos, Harry and Y/N's movements turned almost frenzied and animalistic in their unbridled need.  

With a few more piston thrusts of his hips, Y/N detonated first. Her eyes rolled back and mouth dropped open on a guttural, sobbing cry of rapture. Every muscle in her lithe body locked up in an archway of pure ecstasy, inner muscles fluttering as she fell over the sweet euphoric release, her stomach tingling with adoration as he looked at her like she was the oly woman in the world.

“Fuck me…” she giggled, but it was immediately transformed into a broken moan as his hips snapped into her quivering entrance once more, her back arching towards his mouth as he latched onto her swollen nipples once again.

His hips snapped inside her–once, twice, thrice–before he was spilling himself inside her, her warmth clinging to him like a comforting embrace that made both their hearts skip a beat.,

***

After their intense intimate encounter on the ice, Harry and Y/N took a few moments to catch their breath and bask in the afterglow. They held each other close, exchanging tender kisses and caresses as their rapidly beating hearts eventually began to settle.

Looking around at the state of disarray they had left the rink in - scattered equipment, towels, water bottles strewn about - Harry chuckled softly against Y/N's tousled hair. "I'd say we've properly christened this ice in a completely unholy way."

Y/N laughed lightly, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Even amid the chill of the rink, she felt deliciously warm and content cocooned in Harry's strong embrace. "Well they do say no place is too sacred for certain activities."

"Cheeky thing, you are," Harry murmured affectionately, trailing his knuckles along the gentle curve of her flushed cheek. He dipped his head to capture her lips in another lingering kiss, savoring her taste and the feel of her body melting against his.

Eventually they knew they should disentangle and start cleaning up the rink before someone came across the incriminating scene of their tryst. With some reluctance, they separated just enough to hastily redress in their rumpled athletic wear.

As Y/N shimmied back into her leggings, she sent Harry a coy look from beneath her lashes. "So...did I pass my hockey training with flying colors then, Coach?"

Harry snorted at her playful quip, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I'd say you earned an A+ for effort...among other things," he replied with a lopsided smirk.

They fell into an easy back-and-forth banter as they straightened up the rink, tossing towels and equipment into haphazard piles. Every so often, their gazes would meet and linger with a lingering heated undercurrent simmering between them.

Once they had restored some semblance of order, Harry tossed his duffel over his shoulder and took Y/N's hand, lacing their fingers together. "C'mon, let me buy you that pint to celebrate your...excellent performance review."

"Mmm, I do love a good performance incentive program," Y/N quipped, falling into step beside Harry towards the exit. 

An easy, companionable silence fell over them as they made their way out of the deserted rink and into the crisp night air. Stealing a glance at the beaming beauty beside him, Harry felt a contented calm settle over his usual manic hockey intensity.

He wasn't sure what this new...relationship?...with Y/N would hold. But in that moment, just reveling in her presence and their newfound intimacy, Harry found he didn't really care about the future. He was happy to just bask in the feeling of her hand in his and the memory of her cries of pleasure echoing through the rafters.

As they strolled along, their joined hands swung lightly between their bodies. Harry grinned to himself, already wondering if he could convince Y/N of a repeat "lesson" very soon...

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

feedback | masterlist

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[froggibus]

Boned - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, comfort

Word Count: 700

Summary: after a horror movie marathon with your boyfriend, you find yourself a little jumpy

CW: ambiguous but i imagined re4/re6 leon while writing this, established relationship, pet names, horror movies, scaredy cat reader, guns (Leon has a pistol), paranoia/fear, Leon makes dumb jokes, mostly fluffy i swear

our first little break from kinktober writing + first little dive into fall fest! i really enjoyed writing this and think if i keep it up maybe im gonna do it again next year! i was giggling to myself making these jokes so i hope yall find them funny ^^

masterlist | kinktober/fall fest masterlist

You flinch as a scream rattles out through the speaker, echoing in your ears. Leon’s grip around your shoulders tightens, his jaw set firmly.

He sighs. “Why do you insist on watching these when they scare you every damn time?”

You nuzzle your head into the chest, the scent of his cologne soothing your nerves. “They excite me.” You glance up at him through your lashes, “why’re you complaining, huh? You scared?”

He rolls his eyes at you, chuckling at your antics. Your attention goes back to the tv, focusing on the third consecutive horror movie of the night. Leon’s never enjoyed this style of movie—too close to what he’s done for work and seen from Umbrella—but he always sucks it up for you.

The thought makes you cuddle closer into the warmth of his body.

—

You’re half changed into a pair of pyjamas pants and one of Leon’s old shirts when you hear the scraping at the window. You stagger backwards, the t-shirt catching on your head and blocking your vision. You strain against the cotton, tugging it the rest of the way over your head and squinting towards the source of the noise.

You let yourself relax when you see there’s nothing outside, the room so quiet it’s as if you imagined the noise. Settling in on the side of the bed, you tuck yourself in and wait for Leon to finish brushing his teeth.

You glance away for one second and suddenly there’s another bang outside. You flinch, leaping to your feet and making a mad dash towards the bathroom. You shove the door open, staggering towards Leon with wide eyes.

“What is it?” He frowns, “what’s going on?”

You wrap your hand around his bicep, gesturing to the closed bedroom window. “I think,” you say quietly, “there’s something outside.”

Your boyfriend is dropping his toothbrush on the counter and shoving his way through the door without another word. You shuffle behind him slowly, following him to the vault in the closet where he keeps his pistol and then towards the front door.

You watch his fingers flex as he loads the gun, the motion smooth and effortless. He keeps the gun tucked against himself, his other hand reaching to make sure you’re a safe distance behind him.

He opens the front door and cold fall air blows over the two of you. Pumpkins and decaying leaves line the streets, the pavement wet and dark beneath the street lights.

Leon shuffles along the side of the house, cautiously turning corners until he has a clear sightline towards your window. You hold your breath, expecting some horrible BOW sent to kill you, or even Ada fucking Wong to come out of the shadows.

What you don’t expect is a dorky Halloween skeleton hanging from your neighbours tree, blowing in the wind and slamming into your window.

Leon cackles before you can even react. He spins around to face you, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Is this guy bothering you, babe?”

He puffs out his chest, glancing over his shoulder and fixing the decoration with a scathing gaze. You sigh at his antics but relief washes over you all the same.

You’re back in the house a minute later, warm in bed and waiting for Leon to finish locking his gun away. “I could’ve sworn there was something out there,” you call out to him. 

“It’s all those horror movies we watched.” He tugs his shirt off as he comes back into the room, peeling away a corner of blanket to join you in bed. “Rotting that pretty head of yours.”

“Sorry I made you go all the way outside.”

He tugs you into him, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t be. You know I’ll always protect you.”

You let yourself relax against him. The comfort of having him so close has sleep heavy on your eyes, silence overtaking the room as your breathing starts to even out.

You’re almost asleep in his arms when he chuckles lightly. “Besides,” he says and you can hear the smirk in his voice, “I had a bone to pick with that guy.”

masterlist | kinktober/fall fest masterlist

[writingforstraykids]

I love you - I doubt it

Pairing: Chan x gn!reader

Word Count: 1571

Summary: Chan gets a message that would've made him the happiest man on earth only a while ago. Now, he doesn't know what to believe anymore.

Warnings/Tags: angst, chan centered

A/N: This is for you, pretty @zehina, my fellow angst lover🤭 Hope you like it🖤🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Chan sat on his bed, staring at the glowing screen of his phone. His room was dimly lit, the soft hum of the air conditioner the only sound filling the silence. He had just finished scrolling through the usual notifications, his mind dulled by the routine of checking emails, missed calls, and scattered messages. But then, amidst the noise of daily communication, one message stood out, its simplicity pulling him out of the monotony of his scrolling.

I love you.

It was from you. He blinked, momentarily frozen. The words, clear and concise, hung there in the quiet air, reverberating in his mind. There was a time when those words would have lit up his world. He could still remember the first time you’d said them—how his heart had leaped, how his breath had caught in his throat. The flood of warmth, the feeling of being seen, of being valued. But now, as he stared at those three words on the screen, something had shifted.

He didn’t feel the familiar rush of emotion. Instead, his first thought was cold, dispassionate, and bitterly practical.

I doubt it.

He immediately regretted thinking it, but it was the truth. He couldn’t escape the gnawing doubt that had been creeping into his mind for months now. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to believe you still loved him. It wasn’t that he wanted to give up on the idea of you and him. It was just that, over time, something had changed. And he wasn’t sure if either of you had noticed it, or maybe you were just better at pretending it hadn’t.

He sat back against the headboard, his fingers grazing the side of the phone absentmindedly. The message stayed on the screen, taunting him with its simplicity. I love you. Those words should be enough, shouldn’t they? They should fix whatever invisible distance had begun to stretch between you. They should have the power to pull him back into that feeling, that intoxicating sense of connection. But they didn’t.

Instead, they felt like a promise he wasn’t sure you could keep anymore. Or maybe it was a promise neither of you had the energy to uphold.

It wasn’t like this before. There was a time when you two were inseparable, emotionally intertwined in a way that had felt so natural, so effortless. You had shared everything, from the smallest, most insignificant details of your day to the deep, raw vulnerabilities that you hid from everyone else. He had loved you for that – how you trusted him, how you opened yourself to him completely. And he had given you the same in return, never hesitating to share his fears, his dreams, his uncertainties.

But life has a way of complicating things. Chan found himself thinking back over the last year, the slow, almost imperceptible drift that had started to happen. It wasn’t a single moment, not a dramatic argument or a hurtful betrayal. It was more like the erosion of a coastline, gradual and unnoticed until one day you look up, and the shore is so far from where it once was. That’s how it felt between you two now. The connection that had once felt so solid, so unshakeable, now felt fragile, like it could break with a single careless touch.

It was little things at first. The missed calls, the forgotten details, the way you had started to prioritize other aspects of your life over time spent together. He had noticed it but hadn’t wanted to make a big deal out of it. Everyone grows and changes, right? People have different needs at different times in their lives. He had convinced himself that it was just a phase, that soon things would go back to the way they were.

But they hadn’t.

The silences between you had grown longer. The once easy, flowing conversations had started to falter, punctuated by awkward pauses where neither of you seemed to know what to say. You both tried to fill the gaps with reassurances, gestures of affection, but they felt forced, like you were trying to recapture something that had already slipped away.

And now, here was this message. I love you. The words felt like they came from a different time, a different version of you. The version of you that still shared everything with him, that still looked at him with that unguarded expression of trust. But that version had faded, hadn’t it? Replaced by someone more distant, more distracted. And maybe, just maybe, he had changed too. Maybe he wasn’t as attentive as he used to be, wasn’t as present.

Chan sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. He wished he could just respond the way he once would have—I love you too. It had been automatic, instinctive before. But now, it felt like a lie. Not because he didn’t care about you, not because he didn’t want to love you. But because there was something hollow about those words now, something that didn’t ring true.

He wondered if you felt it too. Did you send that message out of habit? Was it a routine? Or did you still mean it, deeply, truly, the way you had when you first said it? He couldn’t be sure. And that’s what scared him. The doubt, the uncertainty. How had it come to this? How did something that once felt so right now feel so wrong?

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in love anymore. He did. But he wasn’t sure if what you two had was still love, at least not in the way it had once been. Maybe it had transformed into something else—something more complicated, less romantic. Something more like mutual obligation, or familiarity, or a kind of quiet companionship. But love? That passionate, all-consuming feeling that had once defined your relationship? He wasn’t sure if that was still there.

He put the phone down on the bed beside him, leaving the message unanswered for now. He needed time to think, to sort through his feelings. He wasn’t ready to respond until he could figure out what he truly felt and what he wanted. Maybe you two were just going through a rough patch. Maybe this was something you could work through if you both put in the effort. But then again, maybe this was the beginning of the end.

The thought made his chest tighten with a strange mix of fear and resignation. The idea of losing you was painful, but there was also a part of him that wondered if letting go would be a relief. The constant questioning, the persistent doubt, the weight of a love that no longer felt easy—it was exhausting. Could you two really go on like this? Or was it time to face the truth that something fundamental had changed between you, something that might never be the same again?

Chan leaned his head back against the headboard, closing his eyes. He replayed your relationship in his mind, the early days when everything was new and exciting, the middle years when you had settled into a comfortable rhythm, and now, this period of uncertainty. He realized that love wasn’t just a feeling. It was work. It was commitment. It was choosing each other, every day, even when things got hard. Lately, he wasn’t sure if either of you were still choosing each other the way you once did.

He didn’t want to admit it, but part of him was angry. Angry that you had let things slip, that you hadn’t fought harder to keep the connection alive. But then again, he knew it wasn’t fair to blame you entirely. He was just as responsible for the distance that had grown between you. Maybe he hadn’t been paying attention. Maybe he had let himself get too caught up in his own world, in his own doubts.

Still, the message lingered. I love you. It was such a simple phrase, but it carried so much weight. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to trust that it was still true. But the doubt remained, like a shadow he couldn’t shake.

“I doubt it,” he whispered to himself again, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He hated feeling this way. He hated that he couldn’t just accept your love at face value anymore, that he had to question it, analyze it, pick it apart. He missed the days when love felt simple, when it was just you and him against the world.

But those days were gone, weren’t they? Now, it felt like it was just him, sitting alone in his room, staring at a message that should have meant everything, but instead, left him feeling empty.

Chan wasn’t sure what the future held for you two. Maybe you could work through this, find a way back to each other. Or maybe this was the beginning of a slow, inevitable drift apart. Either way, he knew one thing for sure—something had changed. And once change happens, there’s no going back to the way things were. Not really.

For now, all he could do was sit with the uncertainty, with the doubt. And as he lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn’t help but wonder if love, a relationship, friendship, was supposed to feel this complicated, this fragile. Or if maybe, just maybe, it was time to let go.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @dis-trict9 @minh0scat @jinnie-ret

[victoria-daydreams]

The Winner Takes It All||Challengers

AN: So, I finally I got to see Challengers yesterday and boy do I have thoughts that may or may not be weaved into the story, things still might be ooc or wrong. Also, I'm warning y'all now, I know absolutely nothing about tennis/college and partook in half ass research on how the sport functions.

Based this fic off the most gut wrenching ABBA song because it fits so well with the story. I hope you all enjoy this mini series, don't know if I did it justice from translating this from my head onto Tumblr, but we move. And hopefully there aren't any spelling or grammar errors, but if there are, we die like men.

A playlist for this series is coming soon!

Word Count: 3.5k

Trigger Warnings: mentions of colorism and racism

Taglist: @seriousaliysa @hopless-y @malscorner @miximora @urfavesim @mmmunson @jackierose902109 @youngestxhearts @blkdivinefeminine @kailkailz @lottiematthewsceo @lonnie2390147 @begoniaespresso @everydayimagineer @pnkstalli @softimgyu @amethystwonders11 @hazbinh0e @ysuftmikey

I tried to tag everyone who commented, but tumblr is being weird so I don't know if you'll get the notification.

Part One: Sugar & Spice

With her arms folded across her chest, Gianna's eyes were glued to the TV screen in front of her as two male sports analysts began to discuss their pick for match of the day.

"Oh man, this right here was my favorite today!" one analyst stated excitedly.

"For sure! It was the match to watch as the tennis world bore witness to the next up-and-coming tennis star," the other commentator agreed.

The camera cut away from the men and to the highlights of the mixed doubles championship match.

"Out the gate Gianna Langdon, ranked number five in girls singles, set the the tone for the day with a powerful ace to start the match,"

A clip of the opening minute of the match is put on the screen with Gianna throwing the ball high in the air for the first, and perfectly executed serve, followed by her pumping her fist in triumph with a grin.

"From there, she and her partner, Max Sullivan, kept their opponents, Roy Christians and Marie Riviera on the back foot for what seemed like the entire match,"

Gianna studied the way she nimbly moved around on the grass court, her swift volleys, sharp serves, and effortless backhands left no room for doubt that she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Play of the match goes to none other than Gianna Langdon, with this volley to put the nail in the coffin of this championship," the analyst reported, as the final moments of the match popped up on the screen.

With a powerful strike, the tennis ball was slammed back over the net by Roy onto Gianna's side of the court. Roy's hit lifted the ball high into the air forcing Gianna to reposition herself and backpedal to the spot to return it. Leaping up, Gianna smashed the ball down with force, out of reach from both Marie and Roy, the game winning hit. The clip replayed, but only this time in slow motion, so viewers at home could properly admire the athleticism on display. ESPN then did a jump cut of Gianna and Max both dropping their rackets simultaneously before rushing towards each other to embrace. Max even lifted up her a bit, twirling them around as they celebrated their victory.

The camera panned back to the two commentators who were wrapping up their coverage of the tournament.

"Honestly, Gianna Langdon just dominates the tennis field for her age group whether it's single or doubles," the commentator complimented, gathering his papers up in his hands and tapping it against the desk.

Gianna's lips lifted at the praise, its rare she gets her flowers as a tennis player.

"She's a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about that. If she keeps playing like she is now, she can easily break into the top three, but she's no Tashi Duncan," the other commentator corrected.

At this, her smile instantly fell off her face. Since freshman year of high school, Gianna has forever lived under the inescapable shadow of the phenomenal, powerhouse that is Tashi Duncan. Because Tashi wasn't just some athlete, she was the athlete. The next Serena Williams, as some people taken to calling her. Gianna might as well been chopped liver.

The girls have been thick as thieves since Gianna moved to the same school as Tashi and was paired up by their coach to be doubles partners. The duo were unstoppable on the court, as Gianna was a tennis prodigy in her own right, but often was relegated to just being known as Tashi Duncan's partner. A repeated slight which didn't go unnoticed by her two strongest supporters, her parents. They made it their mission to drill Gianna with an unshakable sense of self confidence in not only her skills with a tennis racket, but also her appearance.

"Don't you ever let the media or naysayers play in your face about your talents, Gianna," her father's words echoing in her head. "You already know, you have to work twice as hard to get half the recognition compared to others," he went on.

Gianna recalled the exact day, he gave her this speech. She was probably fifteen and won a match against some Eastern European girl, it was an upset, and boy did everyone make it a point to tell her so. It ranged from backhanded compliments to outright slurs lobbed at her.

"Oh, so when Tashi pulverizes her opponent on the court who's ranked higher than her it's admirable, but when I do it's a problem!" she complained.

"Competing against Tashi, you need to be prepared that narratives are going to be formed and pushed from factors beyond your control," her father warned. "She's lighter, you're darker. She's thin, you have curves. You're both confident, but only one of you is going to be labeled as arrogant," he listed.

"It's a shame we didn't get to see Duncan and Langdon compete together in girls doubles this year," the analyst said, snapping Gianna out her thoughts.

"Agreed, the best girl duo in juniors we've seen in years,"

Images of Gianna and Tashi materialized on the screen, some were from the last two Junior US Open Championships; both of the, proudly beaming and holding their trophies high above their heads and kissing each other's cheek. But, the one picture that stood out the most to Gianna was their cover on Tennis. Both of them had their arms folded and their game faces on with the headline emblazoned below them.

“Sugar & Spice”

~~~x~~~

Rounding the corner of the hallway, the doors where Tashi's party was being held outside came into Gianna's view. Music and the low murmur of voices floated out of the room, bouncing off the walls as she drew closer. From the corner of Gianna's eyes, she caught her reflection in the hallway mirror promoting her to stop. A pair of eyes, identical to color of rich, molasses stared back at her. Carefully, Gianna studied herself in the mirror from every angle. The healthy glow of her golden, deep brown skin made the light dusting of freckles decorating her upper cheeks and nose more prominent.

"She's no Tashi Duncan,"

It only took those four, little words to dampen Gianna's cheery demeanor and leave her brooding since the afternoon.

Lips pursed, she shook her head slightly, "No, no, no," she whispered to herself. "You're still a champion, Gianna. Fuck that ESPN analyst," she said lowly, smoothing out the pale yellow halter dress she wore.

Letting a lopsided grin grow on her lips, Gianna moved away from the mirror and entered into the ballroom where the party was in full swing. She weaved her way through the crowd to find Tashi, but found herself stopping repeatedly to smile and shake hands as people crowded round her to congratulate her on her match. Gianna couldn't help but feel smug. For once, people were basking in her presence and enjoying the chance to meet a future tennis star in person. It boosted Gianna's ego—a pure, bone-deep satisfaction that something in the air was beginning to shift.

She was starting to be seen as a standout player, not just an extension to Tashi.

Thanking her last well wisher, Gianna's eyes met Tashi's who was a few feet from where she stood. A flicker of recognition flittered across her face and she smiled a tiny smile. Tashi was not alone though, two boys were standing in front her and seemed to be having a very lively conversation.

"What's this I see?" Gianna wondered aloud, brushing past one of the boys. "I'm gone for a minute and you're already making new friends without me," she joked, dropping into the empty chair next to Tashi.

Across from her, both boys were slack jawed and unable to tear their eyes away Gianna. Pride simmered in her chest, Gianna already knew that she was beautiful, but it was nice to be reminded of that fact every now and then. Especially, when there's two boys ogling at her looks and treating her like a divine being.

"You boys gonna stop staring and introduce yourselves, or what?" Gianna questioned, her words flavored with a lulling Louisiana drawl and the boys snapped from their stupor.

"Let me, these two seem to be malfunctioning," Tashi cut in, with a smirk.

"They keep on drooling any longer, they'll catch flies," Gianna quipped, her nude colored lips curling upwards.

Tashi motioned to the dark haired boy with sharp features, "This is Patrick Zweig," she introduced, as Gianna's eyes met Patrick's gray ones, holding her stare and grinning widely. Confidence that bordered on cockiness practically radiated off him. "And this is Art Donaldson," Tashi continued, gesturing to the boy next to Patrick.

Art only allowed himself a small, shy, smile when her eyes shifted over to him. Unabashedly, Gianna let her eyes roam over Art's features. Those blond curls, those blue eyes.

God, they're both gorgeous.

Tashi placed her hand on Gianna's knee, "Patrick and Art, this is my best friend—" she started.

"Gianna Langdon," Patrick and Art interjected simultaneously, causing a Cheshire grin to form on Gianna's lips.

"Well, well, my fan club only continues to grow this tournament," Gianna joked, playing with the curly ends of her pick and drop braids.

"Deservedly so, you were absolutely amazing this tournament," Art complimented, a breathy chuckle leaving him.

"That play when you landed a split after playing a return," Patrick mentioned, beaming at her. "And you still got the point, fucking incredible!" he praised, shaking his head.

She smiled, "Oh, so you two have been avidly watching my matches then?" Gianna questioned, playfulness in her voice while slightly leaning forward in her seat.

"Ashamedly, not initially," Art admitted, and Gianna quirked brow. "But after your storybook comeback in Round 4, we knew there was no way we couldn’t stop watching you," he added quickly.

"Singles or doubles," Patrick chimed in.

"Did you by chance watch any of our matches, Gianna?" Art asked timidly, staring at her with hopeful eyes.

She smirked, "Singles or doubles?" Gianna asked back, smoothly echoing Patrick's words.

"Either," Patrick responded, his eyes drinking her in.

They both seemed mesmerized. Leaning in closer, as if they were going to learn her with their close proximity. Gianna hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair and raising a finger to her chin to mull over the question. She glanced over to Tashi, who was already watching her with an amused expression. Embarrassingly, Gianna kind of forgot her best friend was literally sitting next to her, she had become too engrossed in her conversation with the newcomers.

"No, can't say that I have," Gianna answered finally, with a shrug.

Art deflated, his face falling as the tips of his ears went fiery red, while Patrick's shoulders sagged a little.

"O-Oh," Art breathed.

There was a silence. Gianna looked off to her side again to see a ghost of a grin threatening to appear on Tashi's face. When the two girls' eyes connected with each other, they burst out laughing at the same time. Both boys looked at each other wordlessly, both speechless by this.

"Gia's just fucking with you two," Tashi explained, in between laughter.

Relief couldn't have been written across their faces more clearly.

"Yeah, I actually watched your championship match while I was in the recovery room," Gianna informed, her giggles subsiding. "Your between the legs shot was very inspired, Patrick," she remarked, with a smile.

At this, Patrick puffed out his chest a bit.

"You know, they're playing against each other tomorrow in the boys singles championship match," Tashi mentioned, her eyes bouncing between the boys.

"Are they now?" Gianna responded, an intrigued smirk gracing her face while crossing one leg over the other.

"We are!" Art blurted out, almost too eagerly.

"You both should come and watch," Patrick suggested.

Gianna cocked her head to the side, "Hmm, maybe," she answered, having a little fun toying with them.

Tashi rose from her chair, reaching her hand out for Gianna's.

"Come on, my dad is waving me over to come take pictures," Tashi informed.

"This is a group activity?" Gianna questioned, her brows furrowing.

"No, but the demand for Gianna Langdon is ever growing," she reminded, her eyes filled with mirth.

"It sure is," Gianna agreed, taking her hand as her friend helped her to her feet. Gianna looked over to Patrick and Art. "Well, ciao. It was nice meeting y'all," Gianna said, waving goodbye as Tashi led her away.

"Goodbye?" Patrick jokingly scoffed. "We'll be here all night!" he called out after her.

~~~x~~~

True to their word, Patrick and Art were in the same spot where Gianna and Tashi had left them earlier and they were more than willing to continue hanging out with the girls. Which is how the group of four found themselves on the beach, slowly treading along the sand, the dark blue sky and millions of stars above them. Naturally, Tashi had found herself in the middle of the group with Patrick flanking on her left and Art on her right.

Gianna was next to Art and as they walked, their arms would accidentally brush against each other every now and then. Both of them exchanging shy smiles at the fleeting contact that sent butterflies fluttering in Gianna's stomach. She secretly relished the contact from Art, he radiated warmth similar to that of a dryer-warm blanket; a nice contrast to the cool sand between her toes.

"You know earlier, Tashi asked us who was fire and who was ice," Patrick spoke, looking over to Gianna. "I figured I should return the favor, between the two of you, who's sugar and who's spice?" he asked, his eyes bouncing from Tashi to her.

"Tashi, is definitely 'spice'," Gianna answered, and Tashi rolled her eyes with a smile. "She's more fiery than me and has a more aggressive play style than I do," she explained.

"Making you 'sugar', of course," Art reasoned, the two staring at one another. "You are the perfect mix of deadly grace and effortless balance on the court," he described, going in an almost dreamlike trance.

"Why, thank you Art," Gianna said, bumping her arm into his.

"If Tashi is 'spice' and your 'sugar', why does the media switch it around?" Patrick wondered.

"Preconceived notions, methinks," Gianna replied, simply shrugging her shoulders.

They wandered along until they settled on a spot to hang out at. Art and Patrick both sat in deck chairs while Tashi and Gianna perched themselves on a large rock. Conversation flowed between all them on a myriad of topics ranging from college, life in general, and of course tennis.

"So Gianna," Patrick began, a small curious and mischievous glint in his eyes. "Your doubles partner Bryce—"

"It's Max," Gianna corrected flatly, with a laugh.

He smirked, "I was in the ballpark," Patrick argued, throwing his hands up. "Anyways, you and Max, you two a thing?" he asked curiously, before taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Eww, no!" Tashi exclaimed, her nose twisting in disgust. "You think Gia has such low standards?" she asked back, clearly offended on Gianna's behalf.

"Tashi, come on, Max is not that bad of a person," Gianna stated, lifting her hand up to tell her to calm down.

"Honestly, I don't know how she does it," Tashi went on. "It's a miracle she can still walk after carrying Max through this entire tournament," she sneered.

"Look, Max is not someone who I would consider as an ideal mixed doubles partner," Gianna conceded, her gaze meeting everyone's. "He's mediocre actually," she said bluntly, making Patrick and Art both snicker. "However, Max as an individual and not as an athlete, he's a wonderful guy," she said, with a slight shrug. "Us dating has never once crossed my mind," she finished, waving her hand dismissively.

"So it sounds like you'll be in need of a new partner soon," Patrick hinted, a hunger in his stare.

"Hmm, I guess I will," Gianna agreed, letting a coy smile grow on her lips. "You know anybody?" she asked, tilting her head a little.

"I can think of two people off the top of my head," Art responded, taking a drag of his own cigarette and blowing it out slowly.

"Oh, is that so? And who just—" Gianna started.

Suddenly, Gianna's phone began noisily vibrating in her lap, putting an end to the playful between the boys and Gianna. She picked up her phone and flipped it open before exhaling heavily, it was her dad texting her.

"Shit, fun's over guys," Gianna announced, with another sigh. "My dad wants me back in my room," she explained, unfolding her legs.

"Your won a championship today, and you're father won't let you stay up late to celebrate?" Patrick asked in disbelief, leaning forward in his chair.

"Obviously, you don't know my father if you think a single championship win is going to get him to loosen his reins on his regimented schedule for me," Gianna stated, grabbing her sandals and letting them dangle from her fingers.

"You're about to be off to Stanford, it's insane your dad is giving you a curfew," Art chimed in.

"Well, I'm not at Stanford yet," Gianna pointed out. "And also..." she trailed off, turning to Tashi who had a knowing look on her face. "His roof, his rules," they both said in unison, after hearing those words countlessly over the years.

Finally standing up from the rock, the boys followed suit. Both of their gazes traveled the length of Gianna yet again, as if they needed to commit her to memory.

"I can walk you back to the ferry and to your hotel," Art offered kindly.

"We both could," Patrick volunteered.

"As much as I am flattered that both of you want to walk me back, I can manage just fine," Gianna assured. "Plus, we're all going to be playing an unwanted game of 21 questions if my dad sees two, random white boys walking me to my room," she remarked, with a chuckle.

Tashi pushed herself up onto her feet, "I'll come with you, Gia,"

"No, no stay, Tashi," Gianna encouraged. "Don't end the fun on my account," she insisted. "Another time will come about for all of us to hang out again, right?" she questioned.

A toothy grin broke out on Patrick's face, "There's gonna be another time?" he asked

"I don't see why not," she answered, mirroring his expression. "The three of us are going to be at Stanford together, and I'm sure you come visit from time to time. It all works out so well!" Gianna said excitedly.

Art opened his mouth to speak, but the shrill ringing of Gianna's phone silenced him. Looking down at the phone, she grimaced slightly.

"Shit, I really have to go, my dad is calling now," Gianna stressed.

"Then get going," Tashi prompted, playfully swatting her bottom.

A surprised whoop escaped Gianna's lips before morphing into a giggle as she began to half-walk, half-jog away from the group. She spun around to face them, continuing to walk backwards.

"This was really fun y'all, we should do this again, yeah?" she yelled.

"I look forward to it!" Art yelled back.

"Me too!" Patrick shouted.

Laughing, Gianna spun around and jogged away, all too aware of the three pair of eyes boring into her back.

~~~x~~~

Propped up against the hotel bed headboard, Gianna was tucked underneath the blankets with a well-worn copy of Baking with Julia in her hands. If tennis was her first love, then baking was her second. There was nothing more relaxing than to Gianna than being able to slow down and just allowing herself to focus on precision, without any of the heightened stakes that came with tennis. Not to mention, beating eggs or whisking a cake were great ways to rid herself of any frustration she may be feeling.

A series of rhythmic knocks on her door pulled Gianna from her musings. She didn't even have to ask who it was, she could tell by the pattern of the familiar knock.

"Just use the card I gave you, Tashi," Gianna called, her voice just loud enough for her to hear.

There's a quiet click of the door unlocking before the door opened a crack and Tashi's head popped into her room, a shit eating grin on her face.

"Hurry up and get in here, before my dad sees!" Gianna ordered, with a laugh.

Closing the door behind her, Tashi pranced over to Gianna and sat beside her on the floor on the edge of her bed.

"Tell me everything! What happened after I left?" Gianna asked, a smile of her own on her face.

"They invited me to come up to their room,"

"And you went?"

"I did," Tashi answered, a smirk on her lips.

Gianna landed a playful hit on Tashi's arm, "No fucking way!" she whispered, her eyes wide. "You hooked up with both of them?"

"I didn't sleep with them," Tashi corrected. "We only made out, and then they made out," she added, smirking proudly.

Gianna raised an eyebrow, "They made out? Patrick and Art?" she questioned.

"Yep," Tashi grinned.

"On their own or did they have some help?" Gianna asked, arching a brow.

Wordlessly, Tashi plucked Gianna's book from her hands and she straddled her, resting each leg on either side of Gianna.

"They did most of the heavy lifting, I just gave them the push they needed," Tashi explained, looping her arms around her friend's neck.

"Now, I'm a little jealous. I missed out on all the fun," Gianna complained, sticking out her lower lip in a mock pout.

"Gia babe, don't worry, I did not forget about you," Tashi reassured, as Gianna hands came to rest on Tashi's thighs. "Remember their match tomorrow?" she reminded.

"Yeah,"

"Winner gets my number…." Tashi trailed off, removing her right arm from around Gianna's neck. "And yours," she finished, lightly tapping the tip of her nose.

A slow smile spread across Gianna's lips as Tashi's words sunk in. She knew exactly what her friend was up to, especially if it meant Tashi could watch some "real fuckin' tennis".

"Tashi Duncan, the girl that you are," Gianna praised, letting out a chuckle.

Leaning forward, Gianna planted a soft kiss on Tashi's lips. It was only meant to be a quick peck, but as Gianna went to pull away, Tashi held her face, keeping their lips connected.

Tashi withdrew herself from Gianna, "Tomorrow is gonna be so fucking good," she grinned, her eyes twinkling at the thought. "And guess what is the best part about all of this, Gia?" she questioned, their forehead resting against each others.

"What?'

"We already have them wrapped our fingers, without even trying," Tashi answered, sending the girls into a fit of giggles.

Part II: Maneaters

[lila-lou]

✨Youth✨

Summary: After another argument with his wife, Jensen ends up alone in a bar. When he meets you, he is quickly drawn by your carefree youth.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, dirty talk, rough sex, language, age gap, cheating

Word Count: 4597

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

It was some Thursday evening when Jensen was sitting alone in a bar in the middle of Austin.

He sat at the counter, nursing a drink, his mind consumed by yet another argument with his wife. For over four interminable years, the thought of divorce had lingered like a shadow at the edge of his consciousness, but the specter of his children and the looming threat of financial ruin held him captive in a loveless marriage.

Lost in his thoughts, he was jolted awake by the approach of a young woman, her youthful allure a stark contrast to the turmoil that churned within him. She flashed him a dazzling smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she slid onto the stool beside him.

"Rough night?", she asked, her voice sweet as sugar.

Jensen couldn't help but return her smile, captivated by her radiant presence. "You could say that", he replied, his voice tinged with wistfulness.

Undeterred, the woman leaned in closer, her laughter like a melody in the air. "Well, how about we make it a little less rough?", she suggested, her words laced with a tantalizing promise.

As they bantered back and forth, Jensen found himself drawn to her effortless charm, the weight of his burdens momentarily forgotten in her company. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy of a life unencumbered by responsibility.

As the night wore on, they laughed and flirted, sharing stories and secrets as if they had known each other for a lifetime. And in that fleeting moment of connection, Jensen felt a glimmer of hope stirring within him, a whisper of possibility amidst the chaos of his crumbling marriage.

As the bar began to empty, Jensen reluctantly prepared to bid farewell to the captivating young woman who had momentarily lifted his spirits. With a heavy heart, he watched as she gathered her belongings, preparing to leave.

"Leaving already?", he asked, his voice tinged with regret.

The woman flashed him a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "I'm afraid so", she replied, a hint of disappointment in her tone.

But before she could slip away, Jensen reached out, his hand gently clasping her arm. "Wait", he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Surprised, the woman turned back to him, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Everything okay?", she asked, concern coloring her words.

Jensen hesitated, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "Do you have any plans for the rest of the night?", he asked, his voice tentative.

The woman regarded him for a moment, uncertainty clouding her features. "Not particularly", she admitted. "Why do you ask?".

"How about we grab another drink? Somewhere a little quieter?", he suggested, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

The woman studied him for a moment, her gaze searching his face for any sign of insincerity. But finding none, she returned his smile.

"Sure", she said, her voice filled with newfound enthusiasm. "Lead the way".

With a renewed sense of purpose, Jensen rose from his seat, a surge of anticipation coursing through his veins. And as they stepped out into the cool night air, he allowed himself to forget everything except the girl next to him.

Side by side, they walked through the deserted streets, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the silence.

"So, tell me about yourself", Jensen began, his voice tentative yet eager.

You glanced at him, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "What do you want to know?", you asked, your tone teasing.

Jensen hesitated, unsure of where to begin. But then, emboldened by the anonymity of the night, he decided to take a leap of faith.

"I want to know about the real you", he said, his voice low and earnest. "The parts you don't usually share with strangers".

You regarded him for a moment, your gaze softening with understanding. "Alright", you said. "But fair warning, you asked for it".

As you walked, your conversation drifted effortlessly towards more intimate topics, your words a tapestry of shared confessions and unspoken desires. With each passing moment, Jensen felt himself opening up in ways he never thought possible, the barriers he had erected around his heart slowly crumbling in the presence of you.

And then, your conversation took an even more intimate turn, the topic of your own miserable sex lives hanging heavy in the air like a forbidden fruit waiting to be plucked.

Jensen couldn't shake the feeling of nostalgia that washed over. Your youthful exuberance and carefree spirit reminded him of a time long gone, a time when the world was filled with endless possibilities and the future stretched out before him like an open road.

"You know", he began, his voice tinged with a hint of longing, "I used to have a lot more fun before I got married".

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Tell me more", you teased.

Jensen chuckled, the memories flooding back with startling clarity. "Back then, I didn't have a care in the world. It was all about living in the moment, seizing every opportunity that came my way", he explained, a smile playing on his lips.

"And the sex", he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Fuck, the sex was wild. No rules, no boundaries, just pure, unadulterated passion".

"Sounds like you had quite a few adventurous years", you remarked, a hint of admiration in your voice.

Jensen nodded, a nostalgic twinkle in his eye. "I did", he admitted. "But then life happened, and before I knew it, I was knee-deep in responsibilities and obligations".

As you walked on, Jensen couldn't help but admire your youthful beauty. In your presence, he felt a sense of longing stir within him, a yearning for the carefree days of his youth when the world was his for the taking.

Jensen's voice, low and tinged with longing, broke the silence. "You know", he began, his words carrying a weight of confession, "I miss the thrill of a more adventurous sex life. The… rough stuff".

Your eyes sparkled as you turned to him, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Oh, I know exactly what you mean", you replied. "But do tell me more".

Jensen took a deep breath, emboldened by your encouragement. "I miss the excitement, the unpredictability", he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "And the way younger girls bring a certain... something unused to the experience".

"I just want a man who knows how to take charge", you confessed.

You continued and told Jensen what you liked in bed and how no one had really managed to do it for you before

Jensen found himself growing increasingly aroused by your confession, his thoughts consumed by fantasies of fulfilling your deepest desires. Feeling a stirring of nervous excitement, Jensen’s heart raced as he struggled to contain the torrent of desire that threatened to consume him. Yet, emboldened by your candidness, he couldn’t resist the urge to flirt back, his words dripping with innuendo and suggestion.

“You have no idea what your words do to me”, he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

His words, laden with longing and need, sent a shiver of excitement coursing down your spine.

A nervous giggle escaped your lips as you met his gaze, your own desire mirrored in the depths of his eyes. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I want to hear you say it".

Jensen's breath hitched at your response, his heart pounding in his chest. "I want you", he confessed, his voice raw with need. "I want to fuck you so good until you beg me to stop”.

Your pulse quickened at his declaration, your body thrumming with anticipation as you felt the heat of his gaze upon you.

Feeling a surge of excitement, you took Jensen's hand in yours, your touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins. You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Follow me".

Jensen's heart raced at your command, his desire for you reaching a fever pitch as he eagerly complied. With a sense of urgency, you set off through the streets, as you made your way towards your apartment.

And as you finally reached your building, the air hummed with the promise of what was to come.

With a sense of urgency, you led Jensen inside, your movements confident and sure.

With a seductive smile, you shrugged off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor in a silent invitation. Your movements were fluid and graceful, each sway of your hips sending a surge of desire coursing through Jensen's veins.

As you moved towards the kitchen, you cast a playful glance over your shoulder, catching Jensen's eye with a knowing smirk. Without a word, you reached into the fridge, retrieving two ice-cold beers and popping the caps off with a deft twist of your wrist.

Jensen couldn't tear his gaze away as you bent down to grab the beers, the curve of your ass accentuated by the tight fabric of your dress. His pulse quickened at the sight.

With a saucy grin, you straightened up, holding out one of the beers to Jensen with a playful wink. "Thirsty?", you purred.

Jensen nodded, his mouth suddenly dry as he accepted the beer from your outstretched hand. "You have no fucking idea", he replied, his voice husky with desire.

Your fingers brushed for a fleeting moment, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you both. You settled onto the couch, your bodies inches apart.

Jensen´s heart raced with anticipation as he shifted closer, his body instinctively drawn to yours like a moth to a flame.

Feeling your presence beside him, Jensen's senses heightened, every movement and gesture amplified by the intoxicating allure of your proximity. He licked his lips nervously, his gaze flickering to your face as he struggled to contain the desire that burned within him.

Meanwhile, you sat nearby, your gaze fixed on Jensen with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. Your face rested in your hand, your arm casually draped over the back of the sofa as you observed the unfolding scene with keen interest.

Jensen's breathing grew heavy as he felt your eyes on him. With a shaky breath, he turned his face towards you, his lips parting in a silent question.

"What do you think about?", he asked, his voice husky.

Your lips curved into a knowing smile as you met his gaze. “I think", you replied, your voice low and sultry, "that you're thinking about the same thing I am".

Jensen's pulse quickened at your words. With a hungry look in his eyes, he leaned closer, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered, "And what might that be?".

Your smile widened into a playful grin as you also leaned in closer, your lips tantalizingly close to his ear. "I think", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, "that we're both thinking about how good it's going to feel when you finally bury yourself deep inside me ".

With a primal growl of need, Jensen closed the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss.

Your mouths moved together in a heated dance of tongues and lips. Jensen's hands roamed eagerly over your body, tracing every curve.

Feeling you respond to his touch, Jensen's desire intensified, his need for you becoming a relentless ache deep within his core. With a bold move, he pulled you onto his lap, the heat of your body pressing against his.

As you continued to kiss, Jensen's arousal surged, his erection straining against the confines of his now uncomfortably tight jeans. The ache between his legs only served to fuel his desire, his need for release.

With a low groan of frustration, Jensen shifted uncomfortably, the pressure of his arousal pressing insistently against your body. He could feel the heat of you through the thin fabric of your clothing, each touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through him.

But even as his desire threatened to consume him, Jensen couldn't tear himself away from your lips. With each kiss, each caress, he felt himself falling deeper under your spell, lost in a whirlwind of passion and longing that left him dizzy with need.

As you pressed yourself tighter against Jensen's throbbing arousal, a low growl of desire escaped his lips.

With a husky voice, Jensen whispered into your ear, his words dripping with desire. "You feel so good against me", he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "I can't wait to make you feel even better".

Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver of anticipation running down your spine. You leaned back, exposing your neck to him. Unable to resist the temptation, Jensen trailed kisses along the curve of your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He savored the taste of your skin, the sweetness driving him crazy.

As he kissed your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer with a sense of urgency. Your nails grazed lightly against his scalp.

As Jensen's hands moved to pull off your clothes, a surge of primal desire consumed him. With each garment removed, he admired the youthful beauty of your body, his gaze lingering on your curves with a hunger that bordered on obsession.

"You're so beautiful", he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "I could spend hours touching every inch of you".

Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and anticipation as you met his gaze, your eyes smoldering with desire. "I want you", you confessed, your voice breathless with need. "I need you".

With a hungry look in his eyes, Jensen continued to admire your naked form, his hands tracing the contours of your skin

"Fuck, you're perfect", he breathed, his voice husky with longing.

As Jensen's lips trailed down your neck, a soft moan escaped your lips, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. With each kiss, each suck, you felt yourself growing more and more aroused.

"Oh, Jensen", you gasped, your voice thick with desire. "That feels so good"-

Encouraged by your response, Jensen continued his ministrations, his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your exposed skin. The softness of your flesh driving him wild with desire.

As he reached your breasts, Jensen's mouth watered at the sight of them, their perfect shape and form calling out to him like a siren's song. With a sense of reverence, he took one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling gently as he teased it with his tongue.

Your breath hitched at the sensation, your hands tangling in Jensen's hair as you arched your back, offering yourself up to him completely.

"Jensen", you moaned, your voice a breathless plea.

Without a word, Jensen scooped you up into his arms, carrying you towards your bedroom with a sense of urgency. He stumbled through the darkness, your bodies pressed together in a frantic embrace.

Finally, you reached your bedroom.

You knelt down before Jensen. With shaky fingers, you reached for his belt, your movements slow and uncertain as you struggled to control yourself.

Jensen watched you with a mixture of amusement and desire, his ego swelling with satisfaction at the sight of your submission.

With a deep breath, you continued to undress him. As you pulled down his jeans to reveal the full extent of his arousal, your breath caught in your throat at the sight, your eyes widening.

"Come on, sweetheart", he murmured. "I know you can handle it."

Your heart raced at his words, a shiver of fear running down your spine as you gazed up at him. His size intimidated you, but a part of you craved the challenge, the thrill of pushing your limits and surrendering yourself completely to him.

Jensen smirked at your reaction.

With a newfound determination, you reached out to touch him, your fingers still trembling as you wrapped them around his throbbing length.

His size was more than you were accustomed to, and you struggled to take him fully into your mouth. With each attempt, you bobbed your back and forth, your lips stretched tight around him as you tried to accommodate his girth.

Jensen groaned in pleasure as he felt your warm mouth enveloping him, your efforts to please him driving him wild with desire. He watched with a mixture of arousal and amusement as you struggled with his size, your determination to please him evident in every movement.

"That's it, baby", he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Take as much as you can".

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at your inability to fully satisfy him, but you refused to give up. You redoubled your efforts, your tongue swirling around him as you tried to find a rhythm that worked for both of you.

Jensen's pleasure intensified as he felt your efforts, your dedication to pleasing him.

As Jensen's desire reached a crescendo, he felt a surge of primal instinct take hold. With a commanding grip, he gently guided your head, urging you to take him deeper into your mouth.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Jensen's firm hand guiding your movements. Despite your initial apprehension, you surrendered to his touch, allowing him to take control as you continued to pleasure him.

Jensen groaned in pleasure as he felt your lips tighten around him, your mouth stretching. With each thrust, he felt himself growing closer to the edge.

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you struggled to keep up with Jensen's pace. Your throat constricted around him as you fought to take him in, the sensation both overwhelming and exhilarating.

With a gasp for air, you pushed against his thighs, desperately trying to free yourself from his grasp.

Sensing your distress, Jensen quickly stepped out of his jeans, releasing you from his hold. With a swift motion, he pushed you roughly onto the bed, his movements fueled by a desire to claim you completely.

You lay beneath him, your chest heaving with exertion as you tried to catch your breath. Your eyes widened in anticipation as Jensen spread your legs apart, his gaze fixated on your glistening folds with hunger.

Jensen's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight before him, the sight of your young and glistening pussy filling him with an overwhelming sense of desire. "You're so beautiful", he murmured, his voice husky with lust. "So perfect".

Your cheeks flushed with arousal at his words, your body quivering with anticipation as you awaited his touch. Jensen leaned in close, his lips grazing against your inner thigh as he teased you with his proximity.

As Jensen's lips met your delicate skin, a shudder of pleasure ran through your body, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. With each gentle kiss, each teasing caress, you felt yourself melting under his touch, your arousal building with every passing second.

Jensen's tongue traced a path along your inner thigh, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through your veins. You arched your back, your breath hitching in your throat as you yearned for his touch, your body trembling with desire.

Jensen closed the distance between you, his lips finding your glistening folds. He savored the taste of you, the sweetness of your arousal.

Your moans filled the air as Jensen's skilled tongue danced across your sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves. You clung to the sheets beneath you, your fingers digging into the fabric as you surrendered yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

With each flick of his tongue, each suck, Jensen brought you closer and closer to the edge, his expert ministrations pushing you to the brink of ecstasy. And as you teetered on the edge of oblivion, you gave yourself over to the pleasure completely, your body trembling with the force of your release.

But before you could catch your breath, Jensen was upon you, his desire for you burning like a wildfire. He positioned himself between your trembling thighs, his throbbing length poised at the entrance to your tight, quivering heat.

Your eyes widened in anticipation as you felt Jensen's hardness pressing against you, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. You were so tight, so achingly perfect, that Jensen found himself completely overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

With a primal growl of need, Jensen pushed himself inside you, his cock sinking into your depths with a force that took both of you by surprise. You gasped in pleasure as you felt him fill you completely, your body stretching to accommodate his size.

Jensen's breath came in ragged gasps as he began to move, his hips rocking rhythmically against yours as he plunged deeper and deeper into your warmth. With each thrust, he felt himself growing more and more lost in the heat of their passion.

As Jensen surrendered to the intoxicating pleasure of your union, he couldn't help but marvel at the tightness of your young body.

"You're so tight, baby", he groaned, his voice thick with lust as he buried himself deeper inside you. "So fucking tight".

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a shiver of pleasure coursing through you as you felt him filling.

“Bet you wish your wife was as tight as me, huh?”, you teased, moaning.

"You think you're tighter?", he growled, his voice low and husky with desire. "Let me show you how tight you can be".

With a hungry gleam in his eyes, Jensen's thrusts grew more forceful, his need for you pushing him to new heights.

"Is that all you've got?", you taunted, your voice laced with desire as you egged him on. "I thought you were supposed to be a real man".

Jensen's grip tightened around your throat, his dominance asserting itself as he pressed you into the mattress with a primal force. "You have no idea what a real man can do", he growled, his voice rough with desire.

You gasped as Jensen's fingers dug into your skin, the mixture of pleasure and pain driving you wild with need. "Show me", you whispered.

You moaned loudly as the intensity of Jensen's thrusts grew, the force of his movements bruising your delicate flesh and causing you to wince in discomfort. But even as you struggled to catch your breath, your desire for him burned hotter than ever.

Feeling your resistance waning, Jensen's grip tightened around your throat even more, with a force that left you seeing stars. The sensation of his hands around your neck sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, the line between pain and pleasure blurring into a haze of desire.

Your body trembling with the force of your arousal. With each thrust, each choked gasp for air, you felt herself teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"You're such a slut for me, aren't you?", he growled, his voice thick with lust as he pounded into you relentlessly. "You love it when I treat you rough, don't you?".

Your breath hitched at his words, a flush of arousal spreading across your skin. Despite the growing ache in your body, you couldn't deny the electric thrill of the intensity.

"Yes", you gasped, your voice barely a whisper.

Emboldened by your response, Jensen's movements grew even more aggressive, his hands gripping your hips with a force that left bruises in their wake.

With a rough shove, Jensen you onto your stomach, his desire to dominate you overpowering any concerns for your comfort. As he pushed into you from behind with even more force, you cried out in ecstasy, your body quivering with pleasure.

"You're just a little whore, aren't you?", he snarled, his voice low as he pounded into you relentlessly. "You love it when I use you like this, don't you?".

"Yes", you moaned.

Jensen´s hand coming down in a sharp slap against your exposed flesh.

You gasped as the sting of his hand sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your skin tingling with the sensation. Despite the pain, you found yourself craving more, your desire for him overwhelming any concerns for your own comfort.

"Such a naughty little slut", Jensen growled.

“I want more", you gasped.

Jensen continued to deliver sharp slaps to your ass, each one sending you closer to the brink of ecstasy.

As your orgasm washed over you in a tidal wave of pleasure, your body clenched around Jensen with a newfound intensity, driving him to the brink of madness. Every muscle in your body tensed with the force of your release, your inner walls pulsating rhythmically around him as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

Jensen groaned as he felt your tightness envelop him completely, the sensation driving him wild with desire. With each pulsating throb of your inner muscles, he felt himself growing closer and closer to the edge, his need for release becoming almost unbearable.

But even as he teetered on the brink of ecstasy, Jensen refused to let himself succumb to the overwhelming pleasure. With a low growl, he continued to pound into you with force.

"You like that, huh?", he growled. "You like feeling me deep inside you, filling you up?".

"Yes", you gasped again. "I want you to fuck me harder. I want to feel you deep inside me".

His grip on your hips tightening with each rough thrust

As your passion reached its peak, Jensen and you surrendered yourselves completely to the fiery intensity of your desire. With one final, primal thrust, Jensen buried himself deep inside you, his body trembling with the force of his release.

You cried out in ecstasy as you felt him pulsating within you, another climax crashing over you in a tidal wave of pleasure.

With a guttural moan of satisfaction, Jensen collapsed against you, your bodies entwined in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat.

You couldn't help but grin as you watched Jensen catch his breath, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. With a playful glint in your eyes, you reached out to trace a finger along the contours of his face.

After a while, Jensen rose from the bed and began to dress, a sense of bittersweet reality settled over the room.

You watched him with a mixture of longing and resignation, your heart heavy. As he buttoned up his shirt, Jensen turned to face you, a hesitant expression on his face.

"Can I... can I get your number?", he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You paused for a moment, your gaze meeting his with a mixture of sadness and resolve.

"I'm sorry", you replied gently. "But that was my last one-night stand. I'm looking for something more serious now".  

Jensen's heart sank at your words, a pang of regret coursing through him. "But", you continued, your voice tinged with warmth, "if you ever decide to truly make a change and get a divorce, hit me up”.

With a nod, Jensen absorbed your words, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. He gathered his belongings, a sense of longing tugging at his heart as he made his way to the door.

As he stepped out into the night, the cool air washing over him, Jensen couldn't shake the feeling of hope that stirred within him. Perhaps one day, when he was truly ready to make a change, he would find his way back to you.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

[cera-writes]

First Impressions - A Kurt Wagner x gn!reader one-shot

Summary: You first met Kurt at the Herr Getmann's Traveling Menagerie. The first time you laid eyes on the blue elf, you were smitten. Fast forward to the 90s and you and Kurt meet again under much different circumstances. tags: fluff, coming of age, mutual pining

The Bavarian sun, a pale orb veiled by a dusty scrim, cast a sickly yellow glow upon Herr Getmann's Traveling Menagerie. The peeling paint on the rickety wooden sign promised wonders, but the air itself held a different story. It reeked of damp straw and the acrid tang of manure, a far cry from the anticipated scent of popcorn and sugared treats. Disappointment gnawed at you, a shadow settling over your heart despite your parents' enthusiastic promises.

Your parents had dragged you along on this trip. It was your summer vacation and apparently you were there to also stay with distant relatives. But you knew your parents were in it just for the free stay and a vacation away from the States. Out of all the touristy things your parents could have picked for you to do, they chose a musty, worn down circus. Honestly, you were ready to be back in America with your friends at the arcade or skating rink. This wasn't how you imagined you'd spend your summer at all.

"C'mon darling. The show is about to start!" Your mother ushered you inside the tent as the ticket master tore your ticket stubs in half as your father followed close behind.

Inside, the spectacle was every bit as underwhelming as the exterior. The big cats, once proud denizens of the savanna, paced restlessly in cramped cages, their magnificent coats dull with neglect. Their amber eyes, once fierce and watchful, were now clouded with resignation. The stench of their confinement hung heavy in the air, a stark counterpoint to the vibrant posters plastered precariously on the weathered orange and red canvas walls. You took a seat in the rafters for the best view, if you even could call it that.

Suddenly, the loudspeaker crackled to life, the announcer's voice a tired rasp battling with static. "Presenting," he declared, his voice tinged with a hint of forced excitement, "our opening act of the night, the Mystifying Nightcrawler!" A spotlight pierced the gloom, bathing the center ring in a harsh white light. From the shadows emerged a figure unlike any you had ever seen. Your eyes widened. Was he- was he really a mutant? You had never seen one in person. He was absolutely beautiful.

"It's him..." you mother sneered. Your parents however, held gazes of contempt and disgust towards Nightcrawler, and any other mutant for that matter. You tuned out their nasty whispers and just focused on the boy standing at the platform.

He was clad in a costume that shimmered with an otherworldly sheen, a deep cobalt blue that seemed to drink in the stark light. A mask, sculpted from some unknown material, obscured his face, but a shock of blue black hair, as vibrant as a summer sky after a downpour, peeked out from beneath it. It was a stark contrast to the peeling paint and sun-bleached canvas that surrounded him.

Then, he moved. There was an effortless grace to his every action, as if defying the earth's very pull. He launched himself from a platform hidden in the shadows, his form a blur of blue and black against the harsh white backdrop. He wasn't just swinging; he was dancing, his body twisting and turning with an impossible fluidity. Every leap, every flip spoke volumes of preternatural strength and agility. He was a silent symphony in motion, an enigma wrapped in cobalt and shadow.

But it was more than just his skill that captivated you. There was an aura about him, an undeniable magnetism that drew you in like a moth to a flame. It was a mystery that whispered promises of adventure and a world hidden just beyond the confines of the dusty circus tent. With each breathtaking leap, with every impossible maneuver, a spark ignited within you, a yearning for something more, something extraordinary.

For a fleeting moment, his gaze seemed to find yours through the harsh glare of the spotlight. A jolt of electricity shot through you, a connection forged in that shared glance. Then, with a flourish that echoed the fading magic of the moment, he vanished back into the shadows, leaving behind a trail of shimmering blue and the lingering echo of wonder in your heart.

The rest of the night was a blur. The other acts faded into oblivion, their performances mere afterimages compared to the spectacle you had just witnessed. Your mind replayed the image of the Nightcrawler, his impossible agility, and the enigmatic smile hidden beneath the mask. The program, clutched tightly in your hand, became a talisman against the fading magic, a tangible reminder of the night that had stolen your breath and ignited a latent flame deep within your very core.

As the applause dwindled and the spotlight dimmed, you felt a frantic energy surge through you. You couldn't just let this incredible encounter end. You had to meet the Mystifying Nightcrawler, to thank him for his amazing performance. It totally didn't have anything to do with your newfound crush. Nope.

Despite your parents' apathy towards mutants, their dismissal fueled a rebellious spark. Seeing the way they interacted with the worn-out animals solidified your resolve. This wasn't a place of wonder, but a place where the extraordinary was exploited. But Nightcrawler, he was different. He brought a touch of magic to the dreary spectacle.

"Come on," your mother called, her voice laced with impatience, "Let's get some overpriced cotton candy and get out of here."

You mumbled an excuse, your heart hammering in your chest. Scanning the emptying stands, you spotted him – a flash of blue disappearing behind a faded red curtain. With a last furtive glance at your parents, now deep in conversation with a vendor, you sprinted towards the backstage area.

The worn canvas walls billowed in the evening breeze, and the air thrummed with a low murmur of voices. You navigated the maze of caravans, each one a peeling testament to the circus's nomadic life. Just as you were about to give up, a figure emerged from one of the larger caravans.

It was him. The Nightcrawler. But instead of his vibrant costume, he was clad in worn jeans and a simple white shirt. He held a red rose in his hand, its vibrant color stark against his stark blue fur. His mask was off, revealing kind golden eyes and a mischievous grin.

Your stomach did a nervous flip-flop. This wasn't the enigmatic performer you'd admired from afar. He had to have been around the same age as you. His vulnerability made him even more captivating. You hesitated, unsure of how to approach him.

Sensing your presence, he turned, his yellow eyes widening in surprise. Then, a smile spread across his face, as warm and genuine as the setting sun.

"“Hallo Schöne”," he said, his voice a melodic baritone. "Seems the Mystifying Nightcrawler has a little fan."

You stammered, cheeks burning. "I, uh… I just wanted to thank you. Your performance… it was incredible. Um, you're also the first mutant I've ever seen. Sorry, I'm not from around here. I'm from America." You played with the hem of your shirt, fidgeting nervously around him.

He chuckled, a rich, rumbling sound. "Thank you, frau. You make a kind audience. I hope I did not frighten you. I know I look a bit... ungewöhnlich."

He held out the rose. "Would you care for this?"

You hesitated for a moment, then reached out to take the flower, its soft petals cool against your fingertips. "It's beautiful," you breathed.

His gaze held yours, an unspoken question lingering in his eyes. "So," he said, his voice dropping a touch, "what's a junge Dame like you doing backstage at a traveling circus?"

You inhaled deeply, the scent of hay and diesel fuel filling your lungs. As you spoke, a strange tingling sensation crawled up your arm, making the hairs stand on end. It felt... electric, like a current running just beneath the surface of your skin. You flinched, dropping your gaze from Kurt's captivating golden eyes to the rose in your hand.

"I…" you started, your voice catching in your throat. The tingling intensified, spreading across your body in a wave. Panic surged through you, a primal fear of the unknown. Before you could apologize or explain the sudden tremor, your vision blurred at the edges. The world seemed to distort around you, the vibrant red rose in your hand pulsing with an otherworldly glow.

Kurt's demeanor shifted instantly. His playful smile vanished, replaced by a mask of concern. He reached out, his hand hovering a safe distance from yours. "Are you alright, Freund ?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

You struggled to speak, your tongue thick and heavy. The strange energy within you crackled, yearning to be released. This wasn't the first time your body reacted this way. You feared the worst. You were starting to believe you were a mutant too. But you could never reveal that to your parents.

They'd disown you in a heartbeat. All those scholarships they made you apply for would never matter if they found out you were different. You knew you needed to get away, to disappear before you lost control and revealed your secret in front of the mysterious Nightcrawler.

"I… I don't feel well," you managed to force out, your voice shaky. Shame burned in your stomach for the abrupt change. "I should get back to my parents."

Kurt's eyes flickered with understanding. He nodded, a hint of sadness in his gaze. "Of course," he said gently. "Let me take you to them."

He moved with his trademark agility, guiding you through the maze of caravans with an ease that left you breathless. You stumbled slightly, your legs shaky under the weight of the unknown power coursing through you. Kurt offered you his arm for support, but before you could reach for it, your parents' voices cut through the air.

"There you are!" your mother exclaimed, her voice laced with annoyance. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"

You turned to see them approaching, their faces etched with concern. When they spotted Kurt hovering beside you, their expressions hardened.

"Don't touch our child, freak!" your father barked, his voice thick with disgust.

Shame washed over you, hot and suffocating. Kurt's hand recoiled as if struck. His shoulders slumped, the joy that had previously emanated from him extinguished.

"I was just helping, Herr," he said, his voice mild yet firm. "They seemed unwell."

Your mother scoffed. "Don't need any help from your kind." She grabbed your arm possessively, dragging you away before you could even look back at Kurt.

"Wait!" you cried, struggling against her grip. But your voice was lost in the bustle of the crowd. You stole a final glance over your shoulder, only to see Kurt standing alone, with one hand rubbing subconsciously over his other right bicep.

His yellow eyes, once filled with warmth, now held a flicker of sadness as they looked off in the distance. He was the first of his kind that you had met and you finally felt like you resonated with him. But it was all too short lived. All you were left of him was the single red rose he'd given you as a memory of your encounter.

With a heavy heart, you were whisked away from the circus, your first encounter with the Mystifying Nightcrawler ending abruptly, leaving a bittersweet aftertaste and a burning question: would you ever see him again?

The 90s were a whirlwind of discovering and finally, somewhat, honing your mutant abilities. Mutants, now looked down upon more than ever, made you even more of an advocate for your kind. You got that scholarship but at the expense of your parents actually disowning you after a fight at the dinner table ended up with your mother's smashed fine China on the floor at the expense of your powers.

For some reason, they'd brought up Nightcrawler again and it sickened you to the point that you'd had enough. When they found out you were just another "freak" that was the last straw and they kicked you out and you never heard from them again. Good riddance you'd said.

The only thing that sucked about them kicking you out was that you had to quickly find a job and a place to live or you'd end up just another homeless mutant on the streets. All that trust fund money had long gone down the drain when they cut you off completely.

You were residing in New York now. You found a dingy little apartment to live in while you finished up your degree in Advanced Physics. You were finally set to graduate this month and after that, who knows.

You wanted to find a job and finally move out of the crappy little apartment you'd called home for a few years now. At least your neighbor next door, Peter Parker, was usually quiet and it gave you room to study without having to complain with a knock at his door, even if he did come and go at odd times of the night.

One particular day, you were sitting at your favorite little corner coffee shop, studying for your final exam, when all hell broke loose on the street. A piece of large shrapnel flew through the glass of the shop, eliciting screams and terrified shouts from pedestrians as people flew to take cover.

You dove for cover under the overturned coffee table, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. The tremor that had rattled the windows had morphed into a full-blown city-rattling rampage. But it wasn't an earthquake. The tremors moved, a monstrous crimson figure stomping through the city streets, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Juggernaut. You recognized him from news reports – a mutant powerhouse the X-Men struggled to contain. And here he was, rampaging through your city like a bull in a china shop.

Panic threatened to consume you, but amidst the chaos, a voice in your head rose above the fear. You were no longer the scared kid, afraid of their powers, who watched Nightcrawler perform at the circus.

If this new era taught you anything, it was discovering your mutant abilities, the escalating anti-mutant sentiment, and the brutal fight with your parents that ended with disownment and shattered family heirlooms. The memory of them calling you a "freak" like Nightcrawler still stung, but it also ignited a fire within you. You wouldn't be another victim.

Squinting past the overturned table, you saw the X-Men, their familiar blue and gold uniforms standing resolute against the crimson giant. And there he was, Nightcrawler – older, even more handsome than you'd remembered, but with the same twinkle in his eyes. He fought with a desperate grace, teleporting in and out, trying to flank Juggernaut. But the red behemoth seemed unstoppable.

It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, you channeled the theoretical knowledge from years of studying advanced physics. The raw energy of the city pulsed around you, a live wire waiting to be tapped into. It felt almost like an extension of yourself, hungry for release. You stood, running from your sense of security, and joined the chaos outside.

With a surge of will, you unleashed it. A concentrated beam of pure energy, hotter than a thousand suns, erupted from your outstretched palms. It slammed into Juggernaut's side, the red giant staggering with a surprised grunt. The X-Men seized their chance, a flurry of attacks momentarily halting the crimson tide. Cyclops blasted an optic beam, Storm unleashed a swirling vortex of wind, and Wolverine harried Juggernaut with his adamantium claws.

Kurt, finally free from the relentless onslaught, materialized beside you, his yellow familiar eyes widening in disbelief. It was as if he'd seen a ghost. "It's you," he rasped, his voice barely audible over the din of the battle.

You offered a small smile, a mixture of exhilaration and exhaustion. "Helping hand, remember?" Your voice was hoarse, but it held a newfound strength. With another surge of energy, you deflected a stray blow from Juggernaut, allowing Storm to unleash another torrent of wind.

The X-Men, rejuvenated by your unexpected intervention, pressed their attack. Professor Xavier's telepathic voice boomed, urging Juggernaut to stand down. The fight raged on, but your power tip, the concentrated beam of pure energy, proved to be the turning point. Juggernaut, overwhelmed by the combined forces of the X-Men and your unique ability, faltered. His helmet had crumbled, rendering him vulnerable.

Finally, with a roar of frustration, Juggernaut surrendered, taken away by the NYPD as they forced his hefty frame into the back of a mutant prisoner containment vehicle. Exhausted but victorious, the X-Men regrouped. Kurt materialized beside you once more, his gaze still filled with awe and disbelief. "Freund," he repeated, his voice thick with emotion. "Is it really you?"

You met his gaze, no longer the scared kid from the dusty circus tent. The years of hardship and self-discovery had forged you into a new person. With a defiant smile, you nodded, ready to tell your story and finally find your place amongst the X-Men.

You wanted more than anything to catch up with the infamous Nightcrawler. But Professor Xavier was making his way over to you, clearly wanting a word. The look on his face was nothing short of astonishment. Kurt, sensing this, gave you a reassuring nod as he turned to join the others once more.

"Are you alright, young one?" he inquired, his voice warm and calming.

You nodded, finding your voice a little hoarse. "Yes, Professor. Just a bit… surprised, I guess." You couldn't believe you were talking to the Professor X.

"Surprised?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "I imagine so. But you were quite… extraordinary out there."

The compliment brought a shy smile to your face. You explained how you'd been studying advanced physics, how the energy in the city resonated with you, and how you'd finally been able to control it. You confessed your situation too, about the fight with your parents and being disowned. Shame burned in your stomach, but you held Professor Xavier's gaze.

"It seems you have much to learn, young one," he said, his voice filled with understanding. "But you also have much to teach. We've been looking for someone to help our young mutants hone their abilities, someone who understands the science behind them." His eyes twinkled. "Would you be interested in a position at the X-Mansion, once you graduate of course?"

A wave of emotions washed over you – relief, hope, and a flicker of something more. The X-Mansion. A place where you could belong, where you could use your abilities without fear. You looked at Kurt, who stood a few feet away, a wide grin plastered on his face. His saffron eyes held a spark of excitement, mirroring your own.

"I… I'd be honored sir," you stammered, a genuine smile blooming on your face.

Professor Xavier chuckled. "Excellent. Now, how about we get you cleaned up and settled in? The X-Mansion can be your home. In the meantime, we can work on your new alias." He chuckled lightly.

The mansion, a sprawling structure that seemed to rise organically from the wooded landscape, took your breath away. It was a world away from your cramped apartment, a sanctuary for those who were different. You settled in quickly, the warmth of the X-Men a stark contrast to the cold rejection you'd faced at home.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the lake behind the mansion in hues of orange and pink, you found yourself drawn to its peaceful serenity. As you sat on the edge of the dock, a sudden bamf! sound reverberated next to you as a scent of brimstone hung in the air. It was Nightcrawler.

Suddenly, you felt very conscious and shy all over gain. It was really him. There was no mistaking that sheen of blue fur that lined his skin.

"Quite the entrance you made today," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

You laughed, a nervous flutter in your chest. "I figured you could use some help."

Silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle lapping of the water. You took a deep breath, finally ready to share your story.

"Remember what you said at the circus? About me being a kind audience?"

Kurt nodded, a flicker of curiosity crossing his features.

"Well," you continued, your voice dropping to a whisper, "I wasn't just kind. I was… smitten. You were the first mutant I ever saw, and it was like watching magic. The thought that for one second, I wasn't alone. That there was another similar to me."

You explained how your parents' reaction had fueled your fear, how you'd kept the rose all these years. You confessed how they'd called you a "freak" just like you'd mentioned, and how you'd ended up alone after they disowned you.

Kurt listened intently, his expression a mix of sympathy and something else you couldn't quite decipher. When you finished, he reached out, taking your hand gently in his. His blue fur felt surprisingly warm against your skin.

"My Freund," he said, his voice soft yet firm, "You are no freak. You are extraordinary. And your parents… well, they were wrong. Trust me, I've lived all my life thinking I was an abomination."

You felt a twist of pain at his words. He was so kind and sweet. Even just so as the night when you'd met him the first time back at that old, sketchy Bavarian circus.

He squeezed your hand, and a spark shot through you. You looked into his eyes, seeing a reflection of your own feelings there.

"The truth is," Kurt confessed, a hint of a blush creeping up his neck, "you've never left my mind either. There was something about you that day, a spark I couldn't ignore."

Your heart was hammering inside your chest. The thought of him feeling the same way all those years sent a warmth throughout your body. The thought that you'd somehow made an impression on him sent butterflies wildly dancing in your stomach.

The truth hung heavy in the air, a silent confession echoed in Kurt's blushing cheeks and your own hammering heart. The twilight sky, ablaze in fiery hues, seemed to witness the unspoken yearning that crackled between you.

His touch, a gentle pressure on your hand, sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You leaned in, drawn by a force stronger than gravity. The kiss, when it came, was a revelation – tentative at first, then deepening with a passion that mirrored the vibrant tapestry of the setting sun.

His lips were warm and surprisingly soft against yours, the sweet taste of berries lingering on his tongue. Your hand reached up, tracing the contours of his face, the velvety texture of his blue fur sending shivers down your spine. He reciprocated, his touch delicate yet firm, as if afraid to break the spell.

The kiss deepened, a silent conversation flowing through the press of your lips. He tasted of adventure, of something innocent but also skilled in the ways of romance. A gentle breeze rustled the nearby leaves, momentarily pulling you apart.

"It's Kurt... my name is Kurt Wagner," he'd finally told you his name.

You gazed into Kurt's eyes, a newfound understanding blooming there. The dam holding back your emotions seemed to break.

"Kurt," you whispered, your voice thick with a desire you could no longer deny.

He responded with a low rumble in his chest, his blue fur darkening with a blush. Without a word, he scooped you up in his arms, teleporting you both to a deserted corner of the mansion's rooftop.

The cool night air whipped around you, carrying with it the distant sound of laughter and music from the common room. The city lights twinkled in the distance, a glittering backdrop for the nascent intimacy unfolding between you.

His touch became bolder, exploring the exposed skin of your arms, sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers trailed down his back, tracing the ridges of his spine and the surprising strength hidden beneath his lithe frame. Clothes became an unwelcome barrier, discarded in a tangle of limbs and whispered promises.

The moonlight, a silent witness to your blossoming love, bathed your entwined forms in an ethereal glow. Passion flared like wildfire, fueled by the years of unspoken attraction and the shared trauma that had bound you together.

The night unfolded in a symphony of whispered endearments and stolen breaths. With each touch, each lingering kiss, the anxieties of your past faded, replaced by the promise of a future brighter than the city lights on the horizon. You'd found each other, and this time nothing would take Kurt away from you.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

saw your requests were open sooo what about a CEO!Regina x Reader where reader visits her on her break and gets her some lunch. They work at another company that’s close to Regina’s office. She has been begging the reader to work for her, but they have always refused. Until that lunch- Reader tells her she put in a notice at her company and thus is free to work for Regina. Queue a very very excited Regina :)

Transferring Companies

|| Regina George x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; adult Regina and reader, soft Regina, loads of fluff, short drabble

|| Summary; reader gets tired of their current job and finally puts in a notice; hoping Regina still had that position open for them.

Requests open!

Started; october 9th

Finished; october 9th

~~~

Ugh. Going to your job every day felt like nails on a chalk board, you hated it but the opportunity was good. You learnt a lot, the pay was decent and you had some pretty good benefits.

Your girlfriend however, Regina George, seemed to think otherwise about your job. She knew you hated it and so she had always made sure you knew there was a spot for you in her company. If you ever wanted to consider changing. She made sure to bring the topic up a few times a week too, so it was always fresh in your mind; and she definitely succeeded at that. You were always thinking about it. Every morning when you left to go to work.

So you finally made a decision, it was harder than you thought it would have been and it should have seemed like a no brainer to you. But you didn't like change, you'd hated it. So much so that you still have the same clothing style and hair style from when you were in highschool. That was the last time you'd ever really made any noticeable changes.

You knew this was something you should do, you were okay with it. Though the transition still wasn't going to be easy, however it helped knowing you would have Regina in your corner. Regina. Right. You should tell her about your decision.

When you left for your lunch break that afternoon, you picked up some of Regina's favourite fast food. Knowing that your CEO girlfriend often forgot to eat when she was deep in her work.

Food bag in hand, you walked to her office and knocked on the door. "Come in!" She called, getting a smile from you. She could do the simplest thing and it would always make your heart flutter. You opened the door, greeting her with that same smile," oh my God!! Hi, baby!" She immediately lightened up seeing you and practically leaped out of her chair.

She walked over and gave you a tight hug, kissing your neck. You easily hugged back, being mindful about the food bag," hey, baby."

"What are you doing here?! You didn't tell me you were stopping by, I would have prepared something for you," She was surprised by your visit, to say the least. She was really happy to see you, though.

You lifted the bag of food and grinned," I already got that covered. I had actually come by to talk to you about something."

"Uh oh. Good something or bad something?" She asked, taking the food with caution as she eyed you.

"Good, I promise." You assured her, realizing now how you could have sounded. You waited a moment to figure out her reaction, then decided to tell her." I'm transferring companies. I put in my notice and was hoping you still had that spot for me and I totally didn't just screw up?" Maybe you should have mentioned it first to her, but as luck would have it...

Regina smiled wide, practically grinning from ear to ear as she looked at you." Wait- really?! You're serious?" She set the bag of food on her desk and gripped your shoulders," you're coming to work here?"

"If you'll have me." You nodded and she kissed you, which pretty much answered your question. She seemed to almost vibrate with excitement as her lips moved against yours with effortless ease.

You wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling the blonde close so she was flush against you. God you loved her.

And you couldn't wait to start working with her as your new boss.

[cool-fancier]

Captured Moments

Jennie Kim x Fem Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Synopsis: Y/N and Jennie's journey from trainee friends to K-pop stars culminates in a dazzling Calvin Klein photoshoot, winning fans' hearts

Before the fame and the bright lights of the K-pop industry, there was a friendship that laid the foundation for something deeper. You and Jennie met during your early days as trainees under the same entertainment company. Drawn together by a shared passion for music and performance, you quickly became inseparable.

Despite the pressures and challenges of trainee life, you found solace in each other's company. Late-night practice sessions turned into heart-to-heart conversations, where you shared your dreams, fears, and aspirations for the future. In Jennie, you found a kindred spirit, someone who understood the highs and lows of chasing your dreams in the cutthroat world of K-pop.

As the years passed, your bond only grew stronger. You watched with pride as Jennie rose through the ranks to become a member of Blackpink, one of the most iconic girl groups in the industry. Meanwhile, you pursued your own solo career, honing your craft and making a name for yourself as a talented performer in your own right.

Through it all, your friendship with Jennie remained a constant source of support and inspiration. You celebrated each other's successes and lifted each other up during the inevitable setbacks and challenges that came with life in the spotlight. And amidst the chaos of the industry, you couldn't help but feel a growing attraction to Jennie – a spark that ignited into something more.

After two years of dancing around your feelings, you and Jennie finally took the leap and confessed your love for each other. It was a decision met with both excitement and trepidation, knowing the potential backlash that could come from being open about your relationship in an industry that often frowned upon same-sex couples.

But love, as they say, knows no bounds. And so, you and Jennie made the decision to stand together, facing whatever challenges came your way with unwavering determination and a fierce devotion to each other.

— — — — — — —

The day of the Calvin Klein photoshoot was a whirlwind of excitement and nerves. As one of the main ambassadors for the brand, Jennie was a seasoned pro when it came to posing for the camera, her confidence and poise evident in every frame. Meanwhile, you were a newcomer to the Calvin Klein family, eager to make your mark alongside your girlfriend.

As you stepped onto set, you were greeted by a flurry of activity – stylists fussing over wardrobe choices, makeup artists applying the final touches, and photographers adjusting their cameras for the perfect shot. Despite the chaos, there was an undeniable energy in the air, a sense of anticipation for the magic that was about to unfold.

Jennie was already in the midst of her solo shoot when you arrived, her signature pout and smoldering gaze captivating the camera with effortless ease. You couldn't help but marvel at her beauty, the way she seemed to command attention with every movement.

"Wow," you whispered to yourself, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "She's incredible."

Just then, Jennie caught your eye from across the room, her lips curling into a mischievous grin as she struck a pose for the camera. You felt a blush creep up your cheeks as she winked in your direction, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

"Cut! That's a wrap for Jennie's solo shots," the photographer called out, signaling the end of the first part of the shoot. Jennie sauntered over to where you were standing, her confidence radiating like a halo around her.

"Hey, you," she said, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug. "How's it going?"

You melted into her embrace, reveling in the warmth of her touch. "I'm good," you replied, your voice soft with affection. "Just a little nervous about my solo shots."

Jennie leaned back slightly, her hands resting on your shoulders as she looked at you with a reassuring smile. "You'll be amazing, I know it," she said, her voice filled with confidence. "And besides, I'll be right here cheering you on every step of the way."

As you and Jennie took your places on set, the photographer wasted no time in getting started. The studio lights cast a warm, flattering glow over both of you, accentuating every curve and contour of your bodies as you stood side by side.

"Alright, let's start with some solo shots first," the photographer instructed, adjusting the lighting and camera settings.

Jennie flashed you a quick grin before striking a pose, her movements fluid and confident as she effortlessly switched from one position to the next. You couldn't help but admire her grace and poise, the way she seemed to command the attention of everyone in the room with just a single glance.

As you watched her, a playful smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, and you knew she was up to something. Sure enough, as the photographer snapped away, capturing Jennie in all her glory, she couldn't resist throwing in a few extra flourishes – a wink here, a subtle hair flip there – all designed to make you laugh.

"Cut it out, Jennie," you chuckled, shaking your head at her antics. "You're going to distract the photographer."

Jennie just grinned in response, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she struck another pose, this time exaggeratedly dramatic. "What? I'm just giving the people what they want," she quipped, earning a chuckle from the photographer.

After a series of solo shots, it was finally time for the two of you to pose together. As the photographer directed you into position, Jennie sidled up next to you, her shoulder brushing against yours as she flashed you a conspiratorial grin.

"Ready to steal the show?" she whispered, her voice filled with excitement.

You nodded, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned in closer to her. "Always."

With that, the two of you launched into a series of playful poses, each one more adventurous than the last. From piggyback rides to playful wrestling matches, you threw yourselves into the shoot with abandon, reveling in the freedom of being able to express your love openly.

As the photographer urged you to get closer, you felt a surge of adrenaline course through your veins, the thrill of being able to share this intimate moment with Jennie overwhelming your senses. With each click of the shutter, you and Jennie grew bolder, more daring in your displays of affection.

"Let's try something a little more intimate," the photographer suggested, motioning for the two of you to move closer together.

Jennie grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her. "Closer, baby," she murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

You shivered at the sensation, your heart racing as you allowed yourself to surrender to the moment. Wrapping your arms around Jennie's neck, you pulled her even closer, reveling in the feel of her body pressed against yours.

"Perfect," the photographer exclaimed, snapping away as you and Jennie shared a lingering gaze. In that moment, there was no one else in the world but the two of you – lost in each other's eyes, bound together by an unbreakable bond of love.

As the shoot came to an end and the final shots were captured, you and Jennie lingered on set, reluctant to let go of the intimacy that had enveloped you. It had been a day filled with laughter, tears, and everything in between, but through it all, you had stood together – united in love and unwavering in your commitment to each other.

"Thank you," you whispered to Jennie, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "For everything."

Jennie smiled, her eyes shining with love and affection. "Anytime, my love. Anytime."

As the photographer signaled for you to start your solo shots, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the task ahead. The studio lights illuminated the set, casting dramatic shadows against the backdrop as you struck your first pose.

You glanced over at Jennie, who was watching you intently from the sidelines, her eyes filled with admiration and pride. With a playful smirk, you began to move, each step deliberate and purposeful as you channeled your inner confidence.

"Work it, babe!" Jennie called out, her voice filled with encouragement.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm, feeling a surge of warmth wash over you at her words. With renewed determination, you launched into a series of sexy poses, each one designed to showcase your best angles and highlight your natural beauty.

As you moved, the photographer adjusted the lighting, capturing your every movement with precision and skill. With each click of the shutter, you felt yourself growing more confident, more empowered by the knowledge that you were owning the moment.

"Beautiful!" the photographer exclaimed, snapping away as you struck a particularly sultry pose. You couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement course through you at the praise, a sense of satisfaction settling over you as you basked in the spotlight.

But it wasn't just the photographer's approval that spurred you on – it was Jennie's unwavering support and encouragement that gave you the strength to push yourself further. With each passing moment, you felt yourself growing more confident, more radiant in your beauty.

As the shoot progressed, you found yourself growing bolder, more daring in your poses. You threw caution to the wind, allowing yourself to fully embrace the sensuality of the moment as you basked in the glow of the studio lights.

"Hot damn!" Jennie exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration as she watched you in awe. "You are absolutely killing it!"

You grinned at her praise, feeling a surge of pride swell within you. With renewed energy, you continued to pose, each movement fluid and graceful as you allowed yourself to fully inhabit the role of the confident, seductive soloist.

As the shoot came to an end, you couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment wash over you. You had conquered the camera, owning every moment with grace and style. And as you looked over at Jennie, her eyes shining with pride, you knew that you had done more than just take pictures – you had captured a moment of pure magic, a moment that would live on forever in the hearts and minds of those who witnessed it.

— — — — — —

After the photos from your Calvin Klein shoot were released, the response from fans was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. Rather than hate, there was an outpouring of love and admiration for you and Jennie. Your fans flooded social media with comments and messages, expressing their awe at the stunning images and the undeniable chemistry between you and Jennie.

As you scrolled through the countless messages on your phone, a wide grin spread across your face. It was incredible to see the positive impact your photos had on your fans, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for their unwavering support.

As the photos from your Calvin Klein shoot made their way onto social media, fan accounts dedicated to you and Jennie erupted with excitement. The images of the two of you, captured in intimate and sensual poses, quickly became the talk of the town, eliciting a flurry of reactions from your devoted followers.

@JenYoursTruly: "OMG, have you seen the latest pics of Y/N and Jennie for Calvin Klein? They look absolutely stunning together! 😍 #Yennie"

@YNNation: "Y'all, I think I've died and gone to heaven after seeing those photos of Y/N and Jennie. Can you say power couple? 🔥 #Yennie"

@JennieIsQueen: "Jennie and Y/N's chemistry is off the charts! These photos are everything we never knew we needed. #Yennie"

@YNNavy: "I'm convinced that Y/N and Jennie are the eighth wonder of the world after seeing those Calvin Klein pics. My heart can't handle this level of perfection. 💖 #Yennie"

@Jeniverse: "I swear, Y/N and Jennie are trying to kill us with their hotness. Those photos are pure fire! 🔥 #Yennie"

"Wow, look at this," you said, turning to Jennie as you showed her your phone. "Our fans are going crazy over these pictures."

Jennie leaned in to get a closer look, her eyes widening in amazement as she read through the comments. "I can't believe it," she said, her voice filled with awe. "They really love us, don't they?"

"They do," you replied, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "And can you blame them? We look pretty damn good together."

@YNNation: "Obsessed with Y/N and Jennie! They redefine couple goals with every photo and every moment they share together. #Yennie"

@Jeniverse: "Y/N and Jennie are the epitome of love and beauty. We stan this power couple forever! 💖 #Yennie"

@YJEnthusiasts: "Every time Y/N and Jennie grace us with their presence, we're reminded that true love exists. Here's to forever shipping #Yennie!"

@YJUniverse: "No words can describe the magic of Y/N and Jennie together. Their bond is unbreakable, and their love shines brighter than any star. 🌟 #Yennie"

@JenniesDarling: "Y/N and Jennie radiate love in every photo, every gesture, every smile. Their relationship is an inspiration to us all. 💕 #Yennie"

Jennie chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. "We do, don't we? I'm so glad we did this shoot together."

"Me too," you said, smiling as you leaned into her touch. "It was an unforgettable experience, and I'm so grateful we got to share it."

As the two of you basked in the glow of your success, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the future. With each passing day, your bond grew stronger, your love for each other deeper than ever before. And as you looked ahead to all the adventures that lay in store, you knew that together, you could conquer anything.