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austinbutlerslovers · 2 hours ago

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Playing Dirty

Label Mature 18+ Summary Ruining a night out getting way too drunk Hank bangs on your door an hour later begging for forgiveness. But this time you won't give in to his puppy dog eyes and sweet talk, this time you'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget.

⚠️Depraved Smut⚠️ Dirty talk• P in V • squirting• Hank wasted•Fem Dom• slight degradation• Hank begging •Hank apologizing •Hank as a submissive- whimpering- pleading•eager to please • kiss it better •make it right• Hank being used for sexual gratification • oral on female• cowgirl while hank is tied up 🔗 Master List

Inspo- Hank being drunk in a clip for the movie ruining the night and all the imagines of Hank being a eager to please desperate submissive 🥵

Dedicated To:🏆@butdaddyilovehim99 @aust-een @umika @austinbutlerfly @feralgodmothers

Playing Dirty

It’s been days since you’ve heard from Hank, and as the evening settles in, you find yourself glancing at your phone, thinking about him. You miss him—more than you’d like to admit—and you try to push the feeling aside as you focus on tidying up.

You clean your apartment, putting away the dishes, picking up the living room, changing the linens. With everything in order, you stand back, taking in the quiet stillness of the place.

You decide to take a relaxing shower and just as you head to the bedroom your phone buzzes on the coffee table.

You rush back into the living room, relieved to see Hank’s name lighting up the screen. Without hesitation, you pick up.

“Hello?” you answer, breathless from the sudden dash.

His deep, familiar voice comes through with a hint of warmth in his tone. “It rang this time,” he teases.

“Hank, where have you been?” you ask, unable to mask the desperation in your voice.

He hesitates, a slight pause before he finally speaks. “Can I come to your place?” he asks, and there’s an urgency in his tone that catches you off guard making concern flicker in your chest.

“Of course is every thing alright,” you ask feeling worried.

“Yeah I just… need to see you,” he slowly admits and the vulnerability in his voice catches you off guard.

“I’m sending you my address right now” you respond as you finish texting it to him.

“I’ll be there soon” he says and you both say your goodbyes ending the call.

You stand there after you hang up, the phone still clutched in your hand and your heart is tethered between excitement and uncertainty.

Part of you is overjoyed at the thought of seeing Hank again, but then there’s the other part, the unsettling ache that he can disappear for days without a word, like you’re just one small part of his life—a life you can’t quite understand.

Your mind goes over every possible scenario, wondering what could be wrong, why he keeps you at arm’s length only to reel you back in with an unmistakable intensity.

His touch, his presence, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only one in his world—it’s all become a pull you can’t break free from, completely unsure of where it will lead.

Though you try to deny it, you’ve fallen for him—fallen in a way that feels reckless and all-consuming.

Even though you know he’s complicated, you can feel yourself surrendering, unable to resist your need for him, even if you wanted to.

An hour passes by until you finally hear his gentle knock on your door and all the emotions you’ve been holding back flood forward, impossible to contain.

You open the door, and there he stands, Hank’s tall frame silhouetted in the doorway , his sandy blonde hair tucked behind his ears, and those intense blue eyes meeting yours with a look of complete desire.

Without even thinking, your arms are wrapping around him, your body pressing into his. You breathe in his familiar scent, and in that instant, all the walls of uncertainty come crashing down.

His arms come around you, holding you close, and it feels like finding something you’d been missing even though you tried to pretend you were fine without it.

You pull back just enough to look up at him, biting back the questions threatening to spill out, and instead, you search his eyes. As he looks at you, his expression softens, a small smile forming on his lips, and you can’t help but smile back, feeling the tension between you dissolve.

He leans down, his forehead resting gently against yours, his touch tender and unexpectedly vulnerable. “I missed you so much,” he whispers, his voice low, almost fragile. and all of your lingering thoughts vanish into thin air.

He leans in and kisses you, his lips soft and hesitant at first, but then he kisses you deeper, and you feel all your emotions ignite for him as you surrender to the undeniable pull between you both.

His hands slide down your back, bringing you closer, and as your arms wrap around his neck your fingers graze the familiar curls at the ends of his hair.

Still lip-locked, he guides you in pushing the door shut behind him, one hand reaching back to lock it with a quiet click.

His hand quickly returns to you, and he pulls your top over your head in one smooth motion before tugging off his own shirt, the warmth of his skin meeting yours.

He guides you to the living room couch, his hands firm and steady as he unzips his pants, his gaze dropping as he retrieves a condom from his pocket, letting his pants fall to the floor as he kicks his shoes aside.

He focuses on tearing the condom open and sliding it on his cock as you kiss along his jaw, trailing down to his neck.

His hands return to you with confidence hooking fingers into the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down, his gaze dark and focused.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you,” he admits, his voice barely more than a whisper as he unclasps your bra.

The raw honesty in his tone sends a thrill down your spine, and as he trails kisses along your collarbone your fingers slide into his hair feeling the soft strands. His movements are slow and unhurried, filled with reverence as he begins to pull your panties down your hips.

He leans in, his lips brushing over yours in a silent plea. “I know I’ve kept you waiting,” he whispers, his breath warm against his lips. “There are things I’m dealing with… things I can’t share yet. But I’m here now, and I need you to know—-I never stop thinking about you.”

You feel a surge of emotion as you look into his eyes seeing his sincerity and his mouth finds yours again in another slow, consuming that erases every lingering question, every doubt.

His hands slide down your body as his tongue brushes against yours, his kiss growing so intense it makes it impossible to think about anything else.

His infatuation is undeniable, his mouth moving against yours with a heated determination savoring every touch of your lips, as if he’s afraid to let you go.

A flicker of concern pulls you from the haze as you lean back slightly, searching his face seeing a shadow of something darker in his eyes

“Hank tell me what’s wrong” You ask breathlessly, your voice filled vulnerability.

He lowers his lips to your shoulder, tracing a delicate path of kisses “ Later ,” he whispers against your skin his voice heavy with longing

“Right now,” he whispers, as he lowers you onto the couch, “I want to give you everything you’ve been waiting for.” He says with a quiet intimacy, pressing his body firmly against yours, grounding you beneath his weight.

His mouth finds yours again, his tongue moving against yours in a slow, tantalizing rhythm. Each stroke is deliberate and unhurried, drawing a soft, helpless moan from your lips that’s muffled against his mouth.

His tip nudges against your slick entrance, and you softly gasp feeling the firmness of it.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, his voice low and breathless as he kisses along your neck gliding his tip along your wetness, as soft moans escape your lips.

“Please,” you whisper, voice heavy with desire.

“So eager,” he teases, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, holding you firmly in place as he lean in whispering into your ear. “beg for me” he breathes.

“Hank… please,” you beg instantly, barely able to contain your arousal as you arch your hips up, aching to feel him deep inside you. But he doesn’t give in, he holds you there, savoring the way you respond to him, every pleasing sound, writhe of your hips driving him to the edge.

“Let me hear how much you want it” he says as he slowly pushes in an inch before stopping.

Your loud moan fills the room, fueling his desire, as his hips tilt, pressing the tip just a little deeper before he pulls back, leaving you gasping with desperation.

“That bad, huh?” he whispers, his voice low with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. His mouth slowly trails kisses up your neck until his voice is a low, teasing whisper in your ear. “You can take it all at once, can’t you?…”

Before you can respond, he thrusts into you with one powerful motion, filling you to the hilt. A moan tumbles from your lips, your back arching as he hits that perfect depth, sending a wave of pleasure through you.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his tone both commanding and reverent as he begins a steady rhythm, each thrust deep and controlled. “I want to feel every bit of you… squeezing me, just like this.”

You moan, hands clutching his shoulders, feeling the fullness of his cock with every slow, torturous thrust. Your moan trails off into soft cries as his hips press even deeper, drawing every sensation out.

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” he breathes his voice rough and thick, his hands digging into your hips, guiding you to meet each thrust.

Your dumbstruck, lost entirely in the intensity of the moment enduring every pleasurable sensation he creates in you.

He leans in close, his mouth hovering over yours, his breath warm as he waits for you to kiss him, holding back just long enough to make you crave it.

His lips brush over yours, soft at first, barely there, teasing you as your fingers tighten on his shoulders, urging him to kiss you. But he just grins, a slow, seductive smile that sends a thrill through you.

“You want more?” he teases, his lips barely an inch from yours, his eyes dancing with a playful, knowing gleam as you nod for him.

In one smooth, forceful motion, he pushes deeper, his thrusts sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. His hips snap between your legs, each movement precise and intense, as uncontrollable moans escape your lips

The sound of your pleasure only drives him further, a spark igniting in his eyes as he presses his chest firmly against yours.

His hands tilt your hips as he thrusts himself into you finding that perfect place within, setting off a cascade of emotions that leaves you breathless.

Your moans blend with quick, shallow gasps, every muscle in your body tightening as the familiar wave of your orgasm builds.

He smiles, his mouth returning to yours, finally deepening the kiss. His tongue sweeps over yours in a slow, tantalizing rhythm, filling you with the taste of him.

Your walls instinctively tighten as you feel each push of his cock becoming deeper, more intense, his pace building, his hips thrusting harder between your legs.

The sounds of his pleasure is rough, the way he pants and grunts against your ear, adding to the intoxicating heat building between you

“Taking this cock so well“ he praises his voice low with exertion.

Desperate moan escape your lips, feeling every powerful flex of his muscles as he drives into you with a force that leaves you dazed. Your mind is hazy, completely overwhelmed as his fingers grip your waist holding you in place as you take each powerful thrust of his cock bringing you both to the edge.

His lips graze your jaw as he loses himself , his loud groans against your ear spurring you further into the haze of desire that’s taken over.

Your face is unrestrained with pleasure, your lips parted as moans spill out, growing louder and needier with every moment.

You can feel yourself unraveling, every part of you under his control, and your body finally gives out and you orgasm, your back arching as your hips push against him.

His hips wetly clap against you as you come and the sensation is so pleasurable you feel another pressure swell deep within as a second release rushes from your core.

“Look at you, soaking my cock,” he praises, his voice filled with satisfaction as he takes in the sight of you in a blissed out beautiful mess beneath him.

His hands slide over your hips, steadying you as he moves with purpose, each thrust designed to push you further into euphoria as he savors every shiver, every quiet moan.

His pace begin to falter, each movement becoming more erratic as his own climax builds, and with one final, deep thrust he comes.

Your walls clench around him, drawing him deeper, his name spilling out uncontrollably from your lips as a wave of pleasure crashes over you both.

His breaths are ragged, his hips grinding in slow, deep circles as his body tenses against you. He groans from his chest as he empties himself, the warmth of his come sending a final, powerful wave of pleasure through you both.

He's breathless as he rests his hands on your hips holding them steady as he slowly glides his cock out until you both sigh.

He sits back on the couch, staring off into space, a look of complete satisfaction softening his features.

As you slowly sit up beside him his gaze is distant, lost in his thoughts, and you trail your hand down his jaw with a soft, reassuring touch.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” you ask him gently, your voice barely above a whisper.

His shoulders drop, and he leans forward, covering his face with his hands. Slowly, he drags his fingers through his hair, pulling it back, his eyes filled with a raw, almost unbearable intensity. The usual confident, guarded expression slips away, revealing something deeper, something vulnerable and anguished.

“It’s bad” he out right admits, his voice heavy with a seriousness that makes your pulse quicken.

“What is it Hank?” you ask, becoming more concerned by the second.

“Do you have any liquor here?” he asks, looking around your place and you shake your head trying to lighten the mood with small talk.

“No, that’s why I go to your bar,” you tease, hoping to coax a smile out of him.

He nods, the corner of his lips tugging upward, but the worry never fully leaves his eyes.

“Let’s go to a bar,” he suggests, catching you off guard and you blink, surprised, with his change in plans to drink due to his kidney removal.

But the tension in his face tells you something’s shifted, something’s drastically changed in his world, and as he rests his hand on your knee, his fingers tapping nervously, you realize something’s very wrong.

The night starts off well enough, Hank begins to unwind after a few drinks the conversation and flirtation flowing easily as you sit together. But as the night wears on, it becomes clear this isnt just a casual night out for Hank.

He begins drinking like there is a void he is trying to fill, each glass disappearing faster than the last.

You try to be understanding , but the warning bells are already ringing. Hank isnt just getting drunk—he’s getting wasted.

His charming familiar edge of sweet and wild begins to change into something darker after a couple rounds.

As a baseball game intensifies on the screen above the bar, Hank’s attention is entirely drawn in, his composure slipping the deeper he gets into the action.

“Are you kidding me?” he yells, jutting his hand out at the tv in frustration. “That was a clear strike!”

His eyes are fixed on the screen his irritation growing as he watches the game continue. “What the hell are they looking at? He’s safe, are they blind!” He yells, his voice heavy with bitterness in his tone drawing glances from other patrons.

“Hank, I’m getting us a taxi,” you finally say seeing he’s beyond his limits.

His eyes flick from the screen to you, a faint smirk softening his expression “Look at you…-all responsible…trying to keep me ..-in line..-“

He says dragging out the words, a lazy smile spreading across his face as his gaze drifts over you,

“Thought you liked me ..-a little wild,” he says seductively, his voice low and challenging heavy with the weight of alcohol.

“That’s why I’m taking you to my place,” you whisper with a grin your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you speak.

As you pull back to look at him his eyes are dark with desire, and that smirk—lazy and dangerous makes you bite your lip.

After settling the bill, you glance over at Hank, his eyes glazed and unfocused, the weight of the night’s drinks clearly settling in. You know full well he’d never have let you pay if he were in any condition to argue.

“Come on, Hank,” you say, offering him your hand. He blinks up at you, eyes flickering with something soft and unfocused, as if he’s just now realizing what kind of situation he’s in.

He takes your hand, his grip warm and surprisingly gentle, but the second he tries to stand, he slightly sways, leaning heavily against you, forcing you to reach for his arm to keep him steady.

He looks at you then, a slow smile tugging at his lips, his gaze lingering in that way that’s softened by the haze of alcohol.

“You really can’t resist taking care of me, can you?” He says slowly as he looks down at you, and in that moment there’s no denying your feeling for him.

His eyes hold a magnetic pull with an intensity that seems to cut right through you.

His sandy blonde hair falls perfectly into place, framing his smirk that’s equal parts devilish and alluring.

Even in his wasted state— Hank is irresistible, and before you know it, his hand is in yours, fingers intertwining as you pull him out into the night.

Hank’s laughter echoes through the quiet street, loud and unrestrained, as he stumbles out of the bar with you. He leans heavily against your shoulder as you wave down the first cab you see.

But Hank isn’t ready to call it a night, and as the cab pulls up he slips from your hold, stumbling in front of the it with a wild, defiant grin and spreads his arms wide, yelling like he’s a baseball announcer.

“He’s safe!” Hank yells, his voice booming as he throws his arms wide, mimicking an umpire calling a play. “The bases are loaded, and he’s safe!” he shouts again, wild with enthusiasm, drumming his hands down on the hood of the cab. The sharp sound startles the driver, who slams on the gas, tires squealing against the pavement as Hank stumbles back, grinning.

“He’s outta here!” Hank slurs, pointing sloppily after the departing taxi and laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world, completely oblivious to the situation until he catches the concerned look on your face.

“Hank, what was that for?” you ask, your tone edged with frustration. You’re tipsy, a little off-balance yourself, but nowhere near his level of wasted.

“I… I’m not going back to your place,” he mutters, his gaze fixed on you and your expression shifts waiting and expecting him to take it back, to laugh it off like some twisted joke, but he doesn’t.

“Hank, what are you saying?” you manage, your voice wavering from the alcohol clouding your head.

Hank’s gaze drops to the ground, his expression shifting, like he’s struggling against something he can’t put into words and you catch the flicker of frustration in his eyes as he avoids your stare.

“You’re not safe with me,” he mutters, barely audible. “We… we can’t see each other for a while.”

His words hang in the air between you, completely catching you off guard as you search his face, desperate to understand.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, his voice low, almost like he’s talking more to himself than to you.

Your breath catches, a sinking feeling settling in your chest. “Hurt me? Hank, what are you even talking about?” You take a step closer, trying to catch his eye, but he looks away.

He shakes his head, frustration flickering across his face. “You don’t get it. There’s… things about me that you don’t know.” He swallows, his voice raw. “I thought I could keep you safe from all of it, but I can’t. You’re not safe with me.”

A chill runs down your spine, and you feel your heart pounding faster. “Hank, you don’t get to just decide that for me. Whatever you’re dealing with, let me in… I want to understand. We can handle this together.”

He lets out a hollow laugh, finally lifting his gaze to meet yours, though there’s a hardness there you’ve never seen before. “You think it’s that easy? That I can just let you in and everything will be fine?” His words are harsh, but you can sense the pain underneath. “I’m telling you, we can’t see each other for a while. It’s better this way.”

“So… that’s it?” you ask, your voice sounding strange, thin, and trembling

He runs a hand through his hair, the gesture tense and agitated. “I’m a mess,” he mutters, his gaze finally meeting yours, a mix of regret and something almost like fear shadowing his eyes.

“You wanted me, Hank. You brought me into this—you made me —feel things, flaws and all. I know you’re not perfect. I’ve seen you struggle, and I still wanted you… chose you. And now you’re just telling me I should leave?”

He opens his mouth as if to respond, but nothing comes out. Instead, his expression hardens, like he’s trying to keep everything locked away, the silence stretching between you, heavy and raw. The alcohol only amplifies the ache, blurring the edges making it harder to hold back the emotions threatening to spill over.

Finally, you draw in a shaky breath, willing your voice to stay steady. “Fine. If you’re not going to let me in… if you’re just going to shut me out when things get tough… maybe your right .”

Without a second thought you walk away from him as you wave down an approaching taxi.

“You’re the one who pulled me in, Hank. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me some kind of favor by pushing me way,” you yell over your shoulder, the words raw and full of everything you’ve been holding back.

“Wait… please!” he calls after you, stumbling forward, his voice breaking. “I didn’t… I don’t… this isn’t what I want!” His words are jumbled and desperate, with his internal struggle.

But it’s too late. You’re already sliding into the backseat of the cab, slamming the door shut on whatever the hell this was supposed to be, finally letting him feel the weight of this situationship for once .

As the taxi pulls away, you can still hear him calling your name in the street, his voice fading with each passing second.

Over an hour passes as you begin to sober up, the sting of the night slowly dulling as you step out of a long, hot shower. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you breathe deeply, hoping to wash away the heart ache that lingers, though it clings stubbornly, refusing to dissolve.

You slip into your nightie, the silk fabric sliding over your skin, doing little to ease the strange emptiness settling inside.

You wonder if Hank is okay, wonder if he’s feeling even a fraction of what’s tearing through right now and you suddenly just wanting to be back in his arms, without thinking, you grab your phone from your purse.

The screen it lit up with notifications—over a dozen missed calls from Hank. Each one is a silent plea, his desperate attempt to reach you, a sign that he wasn’t ready to let you go any more than you were ready to leave. But you don't answer. Not in the taxi, and not now.

You clutch the phone tightly, staring at his name on the screen, and your heart fills with the reassurance that at least for now he wants you just as much as you want him.

You almost press the call button, but you can’t, not yet. You need him to show you what you truly mean to him, to stop pushing you away only to pull you back in when it suits him—-to finally stop playing dirty.

A knock comes softly at your front door barely audible at first, but when you don’t answer, it becomes more insistent filling the silence of your apartment.

When you check the peephole and see Hank standing there, your heart skips a beat as you slowly open the door.

He stands there with his hands shoved into his pockets, his tall frame slouched, shoulders down, his whole posture reflecting the weight of his guilt.

His sandy blonde hair is now tousled, his full lips almost in a pout, and his eyes, those soft blue pleading eyes, are practically begging even before he speaks.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his voice lower laced with a hint of shame as his gaze flickers downward.

“For what? So you can tell me to leave you again?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

He blinks, clearly taken aback, his expression flickering with surprise and a hint of hurt not expecting such a cold reaction from you.

“That’s not… that’s not what I meant, alright…” His voice trails off as he looks down, avoiding your eyes.

You watch him struggle with his feelings, his hands running through his hair, frustration clear in every movement. “Fuck—I don’t know how to do this,” he mutters, his voice rough as he tries to gather his thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, his voice softer now, and he looks up at you with the most unmistakable puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen.

Your breath catches at how pretty he looks but you hold firm, waiting for him to finally decide whether he’s willing to trust you enough to let you in.

“You hurt me tonight, Hank.” You remark, you our voice laced with dissatisfaction.

His head lowers “I know…” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I just—fuck, I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have said that”

“It’s just…” he pauses, taking a shaky breath. “Right now, I’m caught up in something that’s spiraling out of control— and I don’t want you to leave me— I want you more than anything right now.”

You lift your chin, feeling his words stirring something deep inside.

“Then tell me what it is you’re hiding from me. If being with you is such a risk, then lay it out, Hank. Be honest with me.”

He stares at you, a mix of fear and yearning in his eyes, like he’s torn between wanting to let you in and wanting to protect you by keeping his distance.

“I will tell you,” he finally says, nodding slowly,. “But you have to give me time.”

He reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm. “Please just… let me in. Please let me make it up to you.”

You feel your resolve soften as his words linger in the air and he looks so vulnerable, practically begging with those eyes of his.

With a sigh, you step aside, allowing him to walk in.

“You owe me more than an apology tonight Hank,” you confirm, your tone steady as he watches you lock the door.

“What can I do?” he asks, his voice quieter, his expression laced with remorse. “I’ll do anything.”

His words send small wave of satisfaction through you, though you don’t let him see it, instead you hold his gaze, watching as he waits, anticipation flickering in his eyes.

“Like I said you owe me more than an apology,” you repeat, your voice taking on a more dangerous edge as you walk past him.

Hanks eyes follows your movements, his confusion slowly turning into understanding that this is about more than an apology.

You pause for a moment, letting the silence hang between you, before you give him your command casual and calm.

“Get on your knees for me.”

Hanks body tenses, and for a split second, you can see him hesitate.

But then he does just as you say and slowly sinks to his knees.

As you watch him a small smile forms on your lips, because there’s something deliciously satisfying about seeing Hank this way.

As you stand directly in front of him, his breaths are a little uneven, and when you place your hand in his sandy blonde hair, tilting his head back a gasp escapes his lips.

His eyes are pleading as they meet yours, his usual confidence nowhere to be found and as you tug his hair a little harder making him wince, the thrill of having him completely at your mercy sends a surge of excitement through you.

“Look at you,” you tease, your voice soft but commanding. “kneeling in front of me like the mess that you are.”

Hank’s breath catches in his throat, hearing his own words thrown back at him, and his hand reaches out, trembling just a little as his fingertips trail up your bare thigh, inching toward the hem of your nightie.

You narrow you eyes as you tsk at him.

“Did I say you could touch me?” you ask with authority.

He brings his hand back immediately, “No you didn’t” he says full of apology as he looks up at you.

You faintly smile at how he listens and release his hair gently tucking the strands behind his ears.

“Good boy,” you coo, your voice dripping with satisfaction as you look at him. “You’re going to do exactly what I say tonight, aren’t you?”

Hank nods, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “Y-yeah,” he stammers, his voice unsteady, eyes flickering with a mixture of vulnerability and uncertainty.

You lean down just enough so that your fingertips trail over his jaw. “You’ve got a lot to make up for tonight ,” you whisper, your tone laced with promise. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you do it right.”

You slowly straighten up, your nightie brushing softly against your thighs and Hank’s eyes lock onto it but his hands stay obediently at his sides, exactly where you want them.

Your hands freely glide down your body teasing him, and you can see the lust in his eyes—his desperate desire to touch you, to be forgiven in the most physical way.

He slightly licks his lips, and you smirk, watching the way his fingers twitch, wanting to touch you.

Slowly, you lift up your nightie up, just enough to give him a teasing glimpse of your bare skin.

“You’re not wearing… panties,” he breathes, his voice filled with an unmistakable edge of desire and as he stares between your legs his restraint immediately falters as he tries to stand.

With one fluid motion, you drape your leg over his shoulder pushing him down with just enough force to keep him on his knees.

His breath hitches in surprise as you reach down, grabbing a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back just enough to assert your control.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you ask, your voice a low purr. Hank groans, a pitiful sound that only makes you tug harder. His eyes dart up to meet yours, wide with a mix of apology and raw desire.

“Please…” he whispers, his voice barely above a rasp, his lips brushing against your thigh as he speaks. “Let me fix it—let me just—”you cut him off with another firm pull on his hair.

“Fuck!” He yells his face wincing as you tilt his head back harder.

“No Hank, you don’t get to decide what you want.” you command, your voice unwavering. “Tonight you’re here to please me. Isn’t that right?”

Hank’s blue eyes flicker up to meet yours, a hint of vulnerability and arousal shining through as he slowly nods.

“Good boy,” you coo, your voice soft and sweet “Now, do as you’re told.”

With your hand firmly in his hair, you position him exactly where you want him between your legs.

“Show me just how sorry you are.” You command him.

He obeys, opening his mouth and eagerly licking his tongue along your pussy.

He moves his head in perfect rhythm, his mouth working with a combination of desperation and skill that has you softly gasping.

You look down at him and see hes enjoying every minute of eating you out, his eyes fluttering closed as he focuses entirely on pleasing you, the tension in his body telling you just how badly he wants to do it right.

“You like this don’t you Hank,?” you ask, your voice breathy as you watch the way he devours you like a man starved.

He nods eagerly, his mouth too occupied to respond properly, but his moans against your pussy are the only answer you need.

You arch your back slightly, feeling a wave of pleasure roll through you as he intensifies his efforts. “Mmm Hank… Just like that,” you praise, tightening your grip in his hair, guiding him exactly where you want him. He moans against your pussy, your praise driving him wild as he keeps going with raw devotion.

A soft moan escapes your lips as he deepens his attentions with his tongue, every thrust sending a ripple of sensation through you. “You’re doing so well for me Hank…-almost making me forget …-what an idiot you were tonight ” you praise, your fingers tangling tighter in his hair.

Hank’s eyes flick up to meet yours, and the sheer devotion in his gaze is almost enough to make you forgive him. Almost. But for now, you’re going to make him work for it.

As he becomes more focused, you feel a surge of arousal building within you, your breaths coming heavier, each one a little more unrestrained, until soft moans begin to spill from your lips.

The intensity in his gaze only deepens as he senses you nearing the edge, spurring him to work harder, each movement faster and. perfectly timed.

Your body tenses as your head falls back and you orgasm with Hank’s mouth pressed against your pussy.

You push against his face as the pleasure rolls though you until the intensity of your orgasm begins to subside, then you gently pull his head back, releasing his hair and savoring the dazed dreamlike look in his eyes as he catches his breath.

“Please…” he whispers pressing his face against your leg ”Let me give you more” he asks, his voice is low and desperate and you can feel his ragged breaths against your skin as he presses gentle, lingering kisses along your inner thigh,

His hand starts to move up, his fingers reaching to satisfy you, trying everything in his power to get the reaction he wants, but you catch his wrist before he even touches you.

“You don’t get to decide when or how you please me tonight.” you say, your tone resolute.

You release his hand his eyes are filled with a dying need, craving the chance to satisfy you again.

“Get up,” you order him as you lift your leg from his shoulder and he immediately stands.

Hank is much taller than you and as you stare up at him you can see the way he holds himself back.

You take a step aside, your gaze steady as you point to the bedroom. “Go,” you command your voice unwavering.

Hank doesn’t hesitate as he stumbles toward the bedroom door. The adrenaline of the moment is still coursing through him, but the alcohol delays his movements just enough to make him a little less graceful than usual. You follow behind, taking your time, knowing exactly what’s in store for him.

Once he’s inside the bedroom, you stand at the door, watching the way he waits for you, his body tense with anticipation and you let the silence linger, as he feels the full weight of your gaze.

You take in every detail of his stance, his pupils wide his breaths panting and the unmistakable hardness of his cock pressing insistently against the fabric of his cargos.

“Undress for me” you command your eyes flicking up to meet his and he readily obeys.

You watch as he fumbles with his shirt, stripping it off clumsily then his hands move to his belt and he struggles with the buckle due to his drunkenness.

“On the bed,” you instruct, your voice direct and sharp cutting through the room before he’s even undressed.

Hank looks up at you desperation in his eyes still half clothed “shit” he mutters moving faster his belt slipping from his hands as he drops his pants to the floor.

He’s hard—so hard, you can practically see the tension in his heavy cock as he climbs onto the bed, laying back.

His eyes follow your every movement, his chest rising and falling heavily with anticipation. His cock is strained hard with the need for release, but he’s smart enough to know you’re still in control.

You step toward him, bending down slowly to pick up his discarded belt from the floor and you can see the realization flash across his face as you loop the leather strap around your fingers, testing its weight.

“Hands,” you command, nodding toward the headboard.

Hank’s arms shoot up without hesitation, his eyes never leaving yours as you lean over him, wrapping the belt around his wrists and tying him securely to the bars of the headboard. He squirms a little beneath you, testing the restraint.

“Comfortable?” you ask, your voice filled with amusement as you pull the belt tight, securing it with a final tug.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes out, his voice shaky but eager, the strain in his arms only making the moment more exciting for him.

“Good,” you say,as you run your hand down the length of his chest, watching the way his muscles tense under your touch. “Because you’re not going anywhere until I’m satisfied again.” You say.

A soft sigh of pleasure escapes his lips as you climb on top of him, your thighs brushing his, teasing him with just enough contact to drive him insane but not giving him he craves. His hips buck instantly, and you press down on his chest, holding him still.

You shake your head as you lean in, your breath warm against his ear. “You don’t move until I say so.”

Hank bites down on his lip, his eyes screwing shut as he tries to control himself. His whole body is tense, as you slide a hand down his abs, purposefully avoiding his erection. You tease him every where else with touch and lean back, just enough to watch his reaction, enjoying how desperate he looks.

“Do you think I’m going to let you off easily tonight?” you ask, your voice soft but filled with authority.

“N-no,” he whispers, shaking his head. He’s panting now, clearly fighting to keep himself under control, and you can see the strain it’s causing him. Every vein in his hard cock is pulsing with need, but he knows better than to push you.

You reach into your nightstand, retrieving a condom. His cock stands hard and flushed, the tip a deep pink, from his arousal. His breath hitches as you put it on but he doesn’t move as you carefully roll it down his length to the base.

You smile, pleased with his obedience and you shift your hips, finally positioning yourself over him, just enough to brush yourself against him, letting him feel you without giving him what he so desperately desires.

His hips jerk upward instinctively, and you push them back down with firm hands, keeping him pinned beneath you.

“You’re going to wait until I’m ready.” you instruct and Hank lets out a low groan, his wrists pulling against the belt as he strains to keep still.

You slowly lower down onto his large cock, watching the way his face softens with pleasure, it feels so good you both moan as you settle on the base and you begin to ride him gently, your breaths coming in soft pants as you roll your hips against him.

His eyes are wide and pleading, as he watches you gliding up and down on his cock with agonizing slowness never giving him just enough to push him over the edge.

His face is a picture of barely contained bliss, his usually steady jaw now slack, lips parted as he tries to keep his focus.

You feel the subtle twitch of his cock inside you, the undeniable sign he will come despite his efforts to hold back.

You stop your movements, leaning down to press a single, lingering kiss against his neck. “You come when I say,” you whisper, your lowering your mouth with intent, gently sucking a sensitive spot just above his collarbone to form a bruise.

Hank lets out a soft, sigh,savoring the sensation as your lips leave a subtle mark.

You continue to use him for your pleasure, grinding down on him, taking your time, reveling in the way his body trembles beneath you.

His breaths grow ragged, his chest heaving as he tries to keep himself from coming, and you can feel the tension building in him, his cock becoming harder as his desperation mounts with every passing second.

Your climax builds within, your thighs tightening around his waist as the tension peaks, each pulse intensifying the sensation between you. As you orgasm, your walls tightens around him, every contraction amplifying the pleasure for both of you.

He groans feeling you come, his hands pulling futilely against the belt as you begin to grind down on him harder, sending him spiraling over the edge.

“Come for me, Hank,” you gasp, your voice filled with anticipation, and he lets out a deep, guttural groan, his head tilting back as his eyes squeeze shut feeling the intensity of pleasure take over.

His abs are flexing hard as you feel the full power of his release, his hips jutting up hard as he comes in you.

You moan above him feeling all his control and composure lost in one, overwhelming moment. He is left breathless, his chest rising and falling rapidly as the condom holds the warmth of his come inside you.

Before and he can even think about moving, you lean down, your lips close to his ear.

“Don’t you ever hurt me like that again,” you say, your voice breathless but firm.

Hank nods weakly, too spent to say anything, but you know he understands.

You reach up, finally releasing the belt from his wrists, and the moment his hands are free, he moves quickly, his fingers finding their way to your hair, pulling you in as his lips press against yours in a heavy desperate kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between kisses, his voice laden with the sincerity. “I didn’t mean it… I’m so damn sorry.”

You run your fingers gently through his hair, soothing him as you pull back from the kiss. “I know,” you whisper, a small, affectionate smile tugging at your lips as you meet his gaze.

You continue to stroke his hair as he sighs, the tension in his body easing under your touch.

His face is soft and vulnerable, his sandy blonde hair falling gently along his jawline, framing his captivating blue eyes.

As he looks at you, his full lips curve into a faint, knowing smile, and his hand finds yours, guiding it to rest over his chest.

“You played hard ball with me tonight,” he says, his voice low, a spark of that familiar mischief lighting his eyes. “And I liked it,” he grins, the softness in his expression and the way he looks at you like he’s ready to do it all over again, tells you it won’t be just reserved for earned punishments.

His expression shifts, a glimmer of something raw flashing across his face.

“I don’t want to lose you ” He confesses the words slipping out before he can stop them, and he searches your face, almost uncertain, as if he’s laid himself bare in a way he hasn’t before.

The simple truth of his words resonates deeply, and you feel a pull to ask him more, to understand what’s haunting him, what he’s been carrying in silence.

But instead, you settle into the warmth of his embrace, grateful knowing that in time, he will tell you everything.

You want Hank—more than what’s good for you, more than what is safe for your heart and as he holds you close, so peaceful and serene you know a part of him feels the same way about you.

🧢 End 🧢

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ayyy-pee · 13 hours ago

Text

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟲 - 𝗠𝗶𝘅𝗲𝗱 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi - Masterlist

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Black Female Reader

Summary: A surprise around every corner.

Genre: Pregnancy AU

Story Warning:Smut, Vaginal Sex, Angst, Fluff Sometimes, Profanity, Friends with Benefits, Mental Health Discussions, Therapy, Mental Health Struggles (Suguru), Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Overprotective, Possessive, Accidental Pregnancy, Unprotected Sex, Pregnancy Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Reader is black female reader who uses she/her pronouns but anyone can read!

Click here to read on Ao3!

Suguru Art by: Ilameys

A/N: I can't believe I randomly pumped out a chapter of this after like a year+ hiatus. Idk when the next time I'll update this one is so enjoy! LOL

Shoko’s slender fingers swipe along your stomach, a warm towel cleaning the ultrasound jelly from your skin before she gently pulls your gown back down.

“So…” Shoko breathes as she watches Suguru gently help you to sit up. “Any questions?”

You glance up at Suguru who peers down at you. Your hand still holds his tightly. In his other hand, he holds one of the photos Shoko took of your baby. It matches the one in your free hand. He’s been so quiet, didn’t utter a word while he watched Shoko carefully slid the ultrasound scanner along your skin to take photographs and the measurements of the baby, but you could feel his pulse race with every movement of the tiny being on the screen.

“How far along am I?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper, trembling with every syllable.

“Baby is measuring around 18 weeks, give or take a few days. But everything looks good so far, and you’re looking good as well. How’s your morning sickness?”

Suguru shifts next to you, brows furrowed. Since breaking the news to him, he’s been able to put 2 and 2 together and figured out that your months long illness was simply your baby rejecting every attempt to eat or drink anything.

You nod. “It was brutal, but I’m feeling good most of the time now.”

From your peripheral, you see the way Suguru purses his lips together and you half expect him to make a snarky remark. But just like his presence here today, he surprises you when he takes your hand in his and whispers, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

And it has to be the hormones that have tears forming in the corners of your eyes. It’s not his fault he wasn’t there for you. In fact, he had tried to be there for you many times even if he had no idea what the real cause of your sickness was. You haven’t forgotten the endless bowls of soup he’d brought you when he first found out you were sick and refused to see him, or the texts and calls that you rejected when he tried checking on you. You can appreciate that, appreciate him. The fact that Suguru has always been kind to you, always been a friend to you. Even when you weren’t deserving, when you weren’t a good friend to him. You give him a small smile, taking his hand in yours and squeezing gently. You don’t need to say anything for your apology to come through loud and clear, because when Suguru squeezes your hand back, you know he’s moved past it.

“Okay. Let me know if it starts back up again. I can prescribe you something to help. Take your prenatals,” Shoko interrupts, not caring in the least about your little tender moment with your child’s father. She stands tall, slipping her hands into her white coat pockets. “It’s crucial for the baby’s health, and yours. Pregnancy has a funny way of fucking with your cursed energy and those vitamins are specially made for pregnant Sorcerers.”

“I will,” You agree and Shoko smiles at you, then at Suguru.

“Alright, I’ll let you get dressed, but you’re all set. Let me know if you have any questions or call me if anything comes up.”

With that she leaves, patting Suguru on his shoulder on her way out. You shoot him a questioning look. “What was that about?”

Suguru slips a hand behind your back, slowly helping you to get comfortable. He shrugs. “Who knows? Do you…” He motions to the door with his thumb. “Do you want me to leave so you can get dressed?”

A small laugh bubbles from your chest. “What would that matter? It’s not like you haven’t seen everything already.” You extend your arm, motioning to the chair where your clothes lie. “Will you hand those to me please?”

Suguru does so without question. He stands there, staring at a point on the wall while you dress yourself, still wanting to be respectful. Now that the appointment is over and Shoko (and the ultrasound machine) are no longer there to act as a buffer, it’s a bit awkward. You slip your shirt on, carefully sliding off of the bed with Suguru’s help. You can’t help but giggle at the way he gently makes sure you’re stable before he releases his hold on you.

”I’m not huge just yet. I’m still able to get around well.”

Suguru just shrugs, a light rose color dusting his cheeks. “Kinda can’t wait to see your belly grow,” he mutters quietly. His words have your heart going into overdrive, and you stare up at him wide eyed. “Can’t ever be careful, by the way. I don’t mind helping you out.”

You bite your lip to suppress the smile fighting to take over and nod. He’s right. You should let him help you. He wants to.

“You hungry?” He asks, carefully slipping the ultrasound picture in his jacket pocket and patting it affectionately. “We can grab some lunch and maybe talk…about everything.”

He holds his hand out to you and you take it immediately. “I’d like that.”

“Be back by curfew,” Satoru grunts from behind Ijichi’s desk. He’s got his enormous feet propped up on the day pass paperwork he’s just signed off granting Suguru permission to leave the campus with you. The assistant stands to the side, jittery and sweating as his eyes dart between the former friends.

This is the norm for Suguru. If ever he needs to leave campus, Satoru is required to sign off on it.

The higher ups probably feel it’s better to have The Strongest around to make sure nothing is amiss when releasing a recovering mass murderer into the public even for a few hours. They must be pretty confident that this time around, he won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done.

“I know,” you assure Satoru because Suguru isn't going to. He knows that Satoru isn’t going to acknowledge him. Especially when Satoru makes it painfully clear that he isn't, his entire body turned away from him to face you. If Satoru’s attitude toward Suguru bothers him at all, he doesn’t let it show. He’s leaning against the wall of Ijichi’s office, gaze set on you as you handle what needs to be done. He’s used to this procedure already, so he’s just ready to get out of here.

You sign your name on the dotted line of the last sheet of the stack, agreeing to take on sole responsibility for the man beside you. When you slide the papers over to Satoru, the man sits up, face serious. His lips are set in a hard line and you think he’s looking at you. You really can’t tell behind that damned blindfold of his, but yeah…you’re fairly certain he’s staring at you. You don’t know Satoru all that well. Not even as well as Ijichi, and definitely not as well as Suguru, but to be under the gaze of The Six Eyes probably feels like what you’d imagine being under a microscope feels like. You feel exposed, like everything about you is being laid bare before this man. You don’t like it.

“You done?” Suguru steps in between you and Satoru’s line of sight, and you nod. Pressing a hand to the small of your back, he ushers you out of the office and into the open air where you feel like you can breathe again. You glance back at the office, just barely catching sight of Satoru warping out of Ijichi’s seat, and let out a sigh.

“That was so weird,” you murmur, turning back to stare up at Suguru. “It’s like –”

“He knows,” Suguru cuts you off, staring at the doors behind you. Like he can still see Satoru andt he look on his face long after he’s gone.

“Huh?”

“He knows. About the –” he glances around, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “About the baby.”

Your heart pounds loudly in your ears, because for some reason, you hadn’t thought for a second that Satoru Gojo - the holder of The Six Eyes - would immediately pick up on the fluctuations in your cursed energy caused by your pregnancy, but you should have guessed. Now what’ll happen? You still haven’t spoken to Principal Yaga about your situation and you’re damn sure not ready to yet.

Suguru takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. He can see your thoughts running a million miles a minute already, so he tells you what he knows will calm you. What he knows without a doubt is the truth. “He won’t say anything.”

“How do you know what?”

Suguru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly as he makes his way across the campus and towards the exit, your hands still clasped together. “Satoru may hate me, may wish I were dead from time to time, and that’s fine. He will never hate me as much as he hates authority, the higher ups and especially paperwork.”

You find yourself smiling, believing Suguru’s words.

“If Satoru reported your condition, he’d be required to speak to the higher ups. And then he’d be required to fill out form after form about how he found out and why that makes you ineligible to take on missions. Trust me, he’s going to take this secret to his grave until you or Shoko say something. Then he’ll leave the paperwork to you two.”

Relief floods over you, because you do trust Suguru. You know that he’s right. Who knows Satoru better than his old friend? While Satoru can’t stand the sight of Suguru most days, he’s still fairly the same person from what Shoko and Suguru have told you of their time growing up together. So if Suguru says he won’t say anything, you trust his word.

“But honestly, paperwork is really reason enough for Satoru to keep his mouth shut,” Suguru mutters, and you lean against his shoulder as you burst into laughter.

You sit in a bustling cafe hidden in one of the back streets of Shibuya, waiting at the table for Suguru to bring back your meal. He’d insisted that he didn’t want you standing around if you didn’t need to and instructed you to wait for him. He would hear no arguments about it. This is a fairly new side of Suguru - doting and protective, and each time his hand touches you, your heart rate picks right up. It’s making you confused.

There’s always been a strong physical attraction between the two of you, obviously. But you’ve never entertained the thought of seeing Suguru in a romantic light. You’ve always been able to keep him at a distance simply by reminding yourself that he just isn’t fit to be a romantic partner. He’s damaged, and while he’s working towards being a better man, you’re not sure if he’ll ever truly get there. At least as a romantic partner, because he’s an amazing friend and you have no doubt that he’ll be an incredible father, too. But it’ll be a long while before you both get to hold this baby. Who knows what could happen in the remainder of your pregnancy?

Suguru stands at the counter, waiting for your orders to be finished and it’s the first time since everything has come to light that you’ve gotten to just observe him. Your eyes watch as he exhibits all the nervous behaviors you’ve picked up on in the time you’ve gotten to know him. His lip between his teeth, probably red and swollen from him chewing it so hard. Fingers fiddling with the bun that sits atop his head. Hands slipping into his pockets for all of three seconds before they’re right back in his hair.

You’re sure if you pressed you could probably find out what was on his mind, but then you’re afraid that he’d probe back and you’re not sure if you’re ready to go there with him just yet. You’re not sure if you want him to know that you’re giving thought to what the next step of your relationship should be. You’re not sure if you want him to know that you can’t tell if it’s the pregnancy hormones that have your heart racing as he grabs your order and brings it over to you. Or if it’s the pregnancy hormones that make your eyes water just a bit at the way he carefully arranges your food and drink and asks if there’s anything else you need because he’s happy to grab it for you. Or maybe it’s you, truly feeling this way because it’s the pregnancy showing you your friend in a completely different light.

It’s a strange feeling to look at Suguru this way. No longer your fuck buddy, but now the father of your child and…a potential romantic partner?

”What are you thinking about?” Suguru questions, sipping his coffee.

”Nothing!” You blurt out much too quickly, sipping your drink. Even with his brows furrowed in curiosity, you’re thankful that Suguru doesn’t pry any further.

“Okay…” He unwraps his meal, a black bean burger on wheat. “So, how are you feeling after the appointment?”

For some reason, his concern for you makes your heart swell. Even after you keeping this pregnancy a secret from him, and after everything that followed, his concern is you first.

‘No, his concern is for the baby,’ you try to reason.

“I feel good. What about you? Wasn’t it so weird to see the baby?” You chuckle, taking a bite of your meal.

Suguru nods. “Yeah, a little. But if anything, it made everything feel a little more real. Like…my child is in there. And before we know it we’ll be holding them.” He shakes his head, eyes roaming your face. “Makes me wonder what they’ll be like…what they’ll look like. Will they have my eyes? Your curls? Will they inherit either of our cursed techniques or one of their own? Or…” he swallows a piece of his burger, but you don’t miss the brief flash of bitterness on his face, disappearing as quickly as it came before he continues, “…what if they have cursed energy at all?”

Your stomach drops, and a wave of nauseousness washes over you. Of course he’s worried about that. Why wouldn’t he be? Cursed energy is everything to him. It’s what separates him, you, all Sorcerers from the rest of the world that he deems too unworthy to be in his presence. Why would he ever want a child that doesn’t have cursed energy?

“...does that make a difference?” You’re scared to ask, but you have to know. Will his child not having cursed energy be the catalyst of whatever this relationship between you two may end up being?

Suguru takes a while to answer. Probably longer than you would have liked. It makes your nerves worse, makes your lip quiver because you’re afraid. You’re so afraid that he’ll look you in the eye and say yes. Yes, it matters to him. Yes, it will make a difference to him whether his child has cursed energy or not. Maybe he won’t be involved if they don’t. And that hurts you more than anything. To think that Suguru may think your child is as worthless as any of the other non-Sorcerers he sees on the streets.

When Suguru finally meets your gaze, he has what looks like something similar to shame behind them.

“Can I be honest with you?” He asks, combing his fingers through his hair. That nervous tick that now you wish you weren’t so familiar with. But you nod anyway. You want to hear him out. “I…” He sighs. You can see the wheels turning in his head, and you know he’s trying to be careful about the words that come out of his mouth next. “I…can’t lie and say I wouldn’t be disappointed if they didn’t have cursed energy.”

You feel yourself deflate. Why was that even important? Why would that matter?

“But,” he interrupts your spiraling thoughts. “I wouldn’t love them any less, I don’t think. Honestly, it’s a confusing feeling. I should probably talk to my therapist about it.” He shrugs, like he didn’t just strap you into a rollercoaster and send you on one hell of an emotional ride.

“ I want to be there for this baby - for you - no matter what they turn out like.”

You want to cry, burst into tears right in the middle of this cafe. It’s the pregnancy hormones, you swear. It’s definitely the hormones that have you wanting to bawl your eyes out in front of this man and tell Suguru that after everything…after all the pain that you caused him…you’re so happy that he was able to forgive you, so relieved that he wants to be involved, so damn glad that he wants to love his baby. But you tuck away the hope that maybe he’d want to love you, too one day. Because…it’s the hormones talking.

You were so worried, and for nothing. For Suguru to bring up therapy at all regarding this topic. You know he’s taking this seriously. And all because he wants to be there for you and for the baby. You give him a soft smile, and he shyly returns it.

“I do have one thing I wanted to bring up.” He inhales deeply, steeling himself. “Are you alright with the twins knowing? They always did want a sibling.”

Your heart melts. It’s so sweet that he’d want the girls - his first daughters - to know about the baby on the way.

“Yes! Of course. We can talk about when’s a good time to tell them…”

And you do just that. You plan on when to tell Mimiko and Nanako. You talk about baby names. Does he prefer a boy or a girl? And as you would expect, he’s not picky. As long as they’re strong and healthy. He tells you he hopes they have your eyes - kind and gentle. And you tell him you hope they have his smile, the one you know is genuine. He wants them to have curly hair, just like you. And you want them to be as smart as their father.

It’s oddly domestic, sitting around in this cafe, planning for a baby with a man who just a few weeks ago, you weren’t sure you ever wanted to know about this. It’s warm, comfortable, even safe. But here you are…making it work.

You ascend the steps of Jujutsu High with Suguru in tow. He’s slowly following behind you, just in case you slip and fall back and he has to catch you.

“I read pregnancy throws your balance off quite a bit,” he’d told you when he insisted you walk ahead of him. Worry was etched heavily between his brows. You just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him no.

You’re kind of glad you listened, because you’re practically gasping for air the higher you go. Were there always so many damn stairs here? Why did they need this many steps? And was it always so hard for you to climb up them? Your body feels like you’re dragging a bag of weights attached to your legs, exhaustion slowing you down by the second.

“Fuck this,” you pant, hands on your hips as you pause to catch your breath.

Behind you, Suguru chuckles. He holds his arm out for you and you grab hold, happily letting him drag you the rest of the way.

When you reach the top, a tall figure is already waiting. His thick arms are folded across his chest, eyes taking in the scene between you and Suguru and you quickly separate.

“Principal Yaga,” you breathe, pretending as if you weren’t two seconds from passing out just a moment ago.

“What can we do for you?” Suguru questions, buying you some time to catch your breath again. He’s such a godsend.

“Nothing you can do, Suguru.” He juts his chin out, motioning at you. “I need you on a mission. Leaving tonight.”

“M–me?”

Yaga sighs, like it’s annoying him to repeat himself. And it probably is. “Yes.”

It’s mandatory. You can tell in his tone.

“...okay.”

You can see Suguru in your peripheral, head snapping towards you because what the absolute hell are you thinking taking a mission on in your condition?! But you haven’t told anyone outside of him and Shoko about the pregnancy. And Satoru apparently found out all on his own, that wasn’t your choice. You’re not ready to break the news to Yaga and have all eyes on you. Questions asked by your colleagues and your students, wondering who the father is. Then you’ll have to explain your situation with Suguru. And that’s opening a whole new can of worms.

It’s all things you’re just not ready to touch on yet.

And honestly, you’d rather figure out what your situation with Suguru even is before you let anyone else in on your condition. Are you together? Are you not together? Will you try dating? Maybe not? The situation is complicated. So you can’t turn down this mission. Not yet, at least. Besides, it’s still early enough in your pregnancy that you aren’t showing yet. You can get away with maybe just this one.

Though you’re not sure how you’re going to use your cursed technique when it knocked you unconscious the last time.

Suguru stands idly by, jaw clenched tight as Yaga gives you the briefest of details. He’s careful with what he says. You’re not sure if it’s because he doesn’t fully trust Suguru again yet. Or if it’s because Suguru is not assigned to this mission, so the less information he hears, the better–

“I’m going with her.”

Now your head snaps towards Suguru who is already staring down at you with determination in his eyes. Then his gaze is on Yaga’s.

“I’m going with her, if you’ll allow me, Principal Yaga.”

He’s asking, but like Yaga, it’s non-negotiable.

“Suguru…” Your voice is small, too scared to speak up and tell him it’s a bad idea. But you can see in the way he clenches his jaw, the way he balls his hands in fists, how his nostrils flare…he’s pissed.

It’s probably at you, your negligence in accepting the mission knowing that it’s dangerous and you’re with child - his child. But he holds it together, telling Principal Yaga that he’ll meet him in about 20 minutes after he packs his things. He wants to get more information about this mission that was just so important you had to be the one to go.

When you call after him, he doesn’t spare you a glance, his low voice sending a chill up your spine when he tells you once more, “I’m going.”

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schrijverr · 24 hours ago

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From the corner of his eye, he can see Buck trying to look along on his screen. However, the angle must be off or the lack of other bubble must be worrying, because soon he’s asking: “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” says Eddie, while actually wanting to scream no. “There’s no service. Texts won’t even get through,” he supplies, so Buck can infer on his own that Chris cannot be reached.

“Are you sure?” Buck asks, not because he can’t believe it, but because he doesn’t want to. Eddie can relate to the feeling.

Buck fishes his phone out of his pocket and tries as well. Eddie can’t see the screen, so he anxiously asks: “And?”

“Can’t reach hi- Maddie. Either. I can’t reach Maddie either,” Buck stumbles over his sentence, then to save face and deflect, he asks: “Who are you trying to reach?”

Eddie sends him a ‘what are you doing’-look and tries to think of what to do. He gets why Buck did that, but they agreed it would be easier if Eddie just remained his private self at work. Two months in and he hasn’t mentioned anything. Will it be more difficult when they know he has a son? And what about Buck? Will it be harder if they know Chris exists, but Buck doesn’t know him? Is Eddie supposed to make that call for both of them now?

He sends Buck another look, trying to gauge what he’s thinking. The look on Buck’s face tells him it’s okay, to go with his gut. And his gut is telling him to worry.

“My son. I’m trying to reach my son,” he says, the words ‘my son’ feeling like a lie for the first time as he looks at Buck. He doesn’t know exactly what his face does, but he hopes there is an apology in his eyes.

There is a frailty to Buck’s voice as he tries to be his enthusiastic self as he says: “Wow, you have a kid?”

-check out this fic this is a snippet of-

#rrposts #9-1-1 #9 1 1 #9 1 1 show #9 1 1 buddie #911 #911 show #911 buddie #buddie #buck x eddie #buck buckley #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buckley diaz family

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starhvney · 2 days ago

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𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟒: 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐂𝐖: kidnapping(obviously), violence, torture?, definitely abuse, blood

𝐀/𝐍: this chapter is short but heavy. buckle up guys cause the next chapters are gonna be quite something! also, i apologize for any errors, i will make edits later

𝐖𝐂: 3,100+

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

“hasn’t it been a while?”

“what?”

“it shouldn’t take over an hour for her to grab a couple of things from her room and come back.”

garroth’s leg bounces in place from where he sits on the couch, his brow furrowed as he picks up his phone to glance at the empty notification screen, then back to the tv.

“maybe she just took a shower or got caught up talking to her parents,” katelyn surposes. “you don’t need to be such a worry wart.”

aphmau bites at her lip, glancing back at her front door as if her friend would suddenly burst through, apologizing for taking so long and ready to watch a movie. had it really been that long? she’d been so distracted with talking and making sure everyone was comfortable that she hadn’t realized how much time had passed. the amber-eyed girl remains silent as she stews at the sudden realization that it had in fact been over an hour, with not a single message in explanation.

“do we really want to risk that? i texted her fifteen minutes ago and she still hasn’t responded.”

the room goes quiet.

“…he’s right,” laurance sighs. “i was thinking the same thing, but i was trying not to be paranoid.”

vylad suddenly stands, gesturing to the door. “why don’t we just check? even if she’s just taking her time she should get over here and enjoy the fun before we get tired.”

despite his passive and rational words, the younger boy’s green eyes stew with worry, lips pursing as he bites the insides of his round cheeks.

“then let’s go talk to my mom,” aphmau stands, her feet quick as she crosses the room.

camping buddies

laurance: what’s with the holdup?

vylad: yeah, are you coming back soon?

delivered, 10:30 pm

“mom.” aphmau implores as soon as sylvanna makes it to the last step of the staircase, nearly falling over from how quickly she ran to her and steadying herself on the railing. “she’s not back yet.”

“hm?” the older woman raises her eyebrows concerningly at the sight of the panicked teens at her feet, looking up to the door when she pieces together what her daughter is talking about. her eyebrows pull together as she looks around at everyone’s round eyes. “have you texted–”

“yes, no response.” garroth’s words quickly tumble out of his mouth, swallowing and blinking rapidly as his finger taps on the back of his phone case anxiously. he should’ve gone with her.

“i also texted.”

“so did i.”

vylad and laurance’s phone screens face towards the now panic-stricken woman, her amber eyes round and lips thinned out in a tense line. very quickly she gathers herself, noticing how her reaction only further worsened the anxious air.

“well, let’s go check her house,” she clears her throat, waving them towards the door, her steps quick.

the group paces down the dark sidewalk, eyes darting in every direction. everything seems so in order–from the crickets peacefully chirping in the otherwise quiet neighborhood, to the warm street lamps shining down on their path ahead. but the air felt so thick. so suffocating. their brief careless moment where their judgement lapsed seems to float mockingly in the air around them, squeezing their lungs and choking their throats. everyone’s breaths are hitched as they pace up to their friend’s door, six sets of eyes burning into the door as if she’d appear there with an apologetic smile on her face. sylvanna steps ahead first, urgently rapping her knuckles against the surface.

instead of an audible sigh of relief from the group, everyone’s breaths seem to hold when the door opens to reveal a very confused expression from the household's mother. she’s wrapped up in her pajamas, seeming to have been having a very peaceful night as she was under the impression her baby was safely a few houses down.

“sylvanna?” she questions, the peacefulness surrounding her dissipating into the air when she glances around at the teary-eyed teens only to not see her own amongst them. “what’s going on?”

“is she here?”

there’s a moment of tense silence as the woman’s eyes drift back to her. “what do you mean…?”

“she left the house… an hour ago to come get some things from here.”

“hour and a half,” aphmau interjects, shifting on her feet. “isn’t she here?”

“...no. no, she never was tonight.”

garroth’s eyes are trained on the woman’s slippers in the doorway. he felt frozen from where he stood in the back of the group, his throat thick with the lump he’d barely managed to swallow down for the past few minutes. he can’t bring himself up to look up into her eyes, the ones so similar to the ones he’d bid farewell to just earlier. when he hears a choked sob and a call for the man inside the house, his feet turn back to the sidewalk he’d just come from, his face cold as guilt slows the flow of blood to his face.

she’s still here, he knows she is.

“i’ll be okay.”

that’s what she said. that’s what she told him. so she’s okay. who’d take her just after he’d closed the door? how could that happen?

a glint of something shining against the street catches his eyes, the blurriness from the mistiness that clouded his vision amplifying its reflection. he stops in his tracks, slowly turning to the offending object with a clenched jaw like it’d just slapped him across his face.

a familiar locket. one he’d remembered his mom wearing when he was younger. one that she’d worn this entire year without fail. so carelessly thrown against the pavement, the chain broken and loosely tangled.

“garroth? what is it?” vylad calls, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at his brother in the distance.

everyone turns as the blond crouches to pick something up, turning as he lifts the necklace. it sways in the air, glinting in the street light as if to mockingly taunt them.

there she is.

everything’s a blur, but the kids find themselves scattered in aphmau’s room, heads hung low and bodies limp.

“you kids just… stay in here,” sylvanna croaks, sucking in a stuttered breath and wiping her face. “i don’t want any of you running out to look for her. i’ll go talk to the police and then…”

red and blue flashes obnoxiously through the window, the colors so uncomfortably bright in the dark room. the only response she gets is silence, save for a few weeping hiccups and sharp inhales.

“…garroth, the police need that for… evidence,” she shakily holds her hand out, eyes trained on the locket clenched tightly between his fingers.

he barely seems to process her words, hands trembling and cold against the metal, eyes unfocused.

“the locket, garroth,” laurance whispers, swallowing as he tears his eyes from his phone, the messages on the screen only blue.

he holds it out to sylvanna’s palm and drops it, barely moving from his spot as he stares at the floor instead.

she sucks in a breath as if wanting to say something else, but no words can even come to mind. what can she say? everything will be okay? she’ll be right back?

her footsteps quietly return to the doorway, the conversation ending with a soft click of the door shutting behind her.

it’s so loud.

the incessant ringing.

if you could talk you’d yell at someone to make it stop, but you can’t. you can’t talk. can’t move. it’s just black.

black at first.

then a myriad of somehow dark yet vibrant colors swirl behind your eyelids, fading into shapes and disappearing beyond your vision. your mouth feels so dry, barely allowing your lips to crack open and let out a hoarse groan. body so so cold yet trembling with feverish aches at the same time.

and the ringing. it makes your head throb and stomach churn queasily as it continues to drone in your ears. finally, you see what you think is likely reality, eyes blearily opening to reveal a cold and empty room, save for the hard hospital-like bed you laid on. a metal, prison cell door was on the opposite side from where you lay, revealing a cold, concrete hallway lit by dim fluorescent lights.

the color makes you feel sick, more than you already did. when you gain some feeling in your arms you shift to your elbows, the action requiring all the strength you can muster. itchy fabric irritates your skin, and you look down to realize your clothes from before are gone, replaced by a hospital patient’s two-piece. on your sleeve was simply an embroidered “3”.

where the hell were you?

as the ringing starts to finally fade from your ears, you catch the sound of heels clicking against the ground. a woman appears from the other side of the bars, and you recognize the blue hair that framed her face. it sends a shock of anxiety through her blood, stopping you from screaming or shouting.

something about her is so familiar yet vastly unnerving at the same time.

“good, you’re awake,” she states, voice a chilling monotone. there wasn’t an ounce of empathy or warmth in it. “don’t move or fight. it’ll only make it worse.”

the door squeaks as she unlocks and pulls it open, walking to the foot of your bed and pulling it towards the door. your weak arms collapse beneath the sudden movement, and your vision swims and twists as she takes you into the hallway.

“hm. for as fast as you heal you aren’t so good at fighting off sedatives. interesting.”

“who… are you?” you manage to rasp.

sharp blue eyes glance down at you in annoyance. “you don’t recognize me?”

she does look familiar, her features and coloring similar to…

kate?

but that doesn’t make any sense. who is this woman?

“am i supposed to?” you manage to snip back despite the unsettling feeling in your stomach.

“i guess not, though it’s annoying when i have to explain things.”

the woman doesn’t elaborate further and instead drags you into another room. the lights in there are blindingly bright, leaving you more disoriented as you’re forced to shut your eyes. two sets of tougher hands grasp onto you, lifting you from the bed and setting you into an uncomfortable chair. squinting your eyes open, you manage to see what looks almost like a lab surrounding you.

your vision was still blurred and swimming with spots of black, but you manage to see a head of dark brown hair walking away from you on your right side. it’s him.

he stalks off to some computers, not sparing you a glance. you know it’s him, though, and it only further sends prickles of anxiety through your hands and feet.

“ein. we’ve been over this. quit hesitating and put the restraints on.” the cold woman commands with a click of her tongue, looking up from her clipboard to the left of you.

you tilt your head over, noticing the werewolf who stood beside you. he was the one who’d been with the man in the park that day. he looks… nervous. gray eyes dart from your face down to the chair, face pale. he only looks like a kid. like he was your age.

without another word he reaches down and latches cool metal around your wrists, leaning down to do the same to your ankles.

“good. now go, i don’t need you anymore.”

ein stands, his ears flat against his head as he looks at you one last time, before quickly walking to the door and disappearing without another word.

it’s quiet for a moment before you speak up again. “i asked you who you were.”

the woman glances up from her clipboard, seeming unamused. despite her opposition to talking, she sets the clipboard down, sighing and placing a hand on her hip.

“my name is elizabeth. embry.”

your blood freezes. “…embry?”

“well, not any longer. eric and i were done a long time ago.” she scoffs. “i can tell you did recognize me, whether you realized it or not. i’m aware my daughter did take after me.”

your brain buzzes as you piece together her words.

“you’re… katelyn’s mom?”

“that’s quite a stupid look on your face,” she notes, picking up her clipboard again. “did your parents really not tell you anything? hah, how laughable. thought they were protecting you, did they? that did you well.”

despite her words, there’s barely any humor on her face.

“what are you talking about?” your voice shakes.

she scoffs. “oh, please. i really have to explain everything?”

she places her clipboard down again, rolling up the sleeves of her lab coat as she walks over to some cabinets and starts shuffling through them. “you are a subject of mine that got away far too quickly for my liking.”

“…subject?”

“my third one. subject three.”

you watch in silence as she pulls a vial out, the glass filled with an iridescent green liquid.

“your healing ability was phenomenal. it was a shame your father was so determined. he got you far far away from here before i could finish. it took me a while to track you down.”

heels click against the floor as she walks back over to you, staring coolly at your panic-stricken face.

“so you have noticed. i can tell by that look on your face. can’t recall the last time your injuries lasted longer than a day? or when you broke a bone?” she questions. “or even the last time you were sick? did you think you were just lucky?”

you’re speechless. the only thing you could see in your mind was your parents' nervous face when you broke your nose fighting ivy that day, only to be fine just minutes later. it was almost a year ago, and it seemed so distant from where you were now. the drama and heartache seem so minuscule. so insignificant. you almost crave the simplicity of it. when your biggest worry was getting caught skipping school or petty drama.

“as for the others,” she continues, “they also got away too quickly. once your parents—and the others—caught on to the type of experimenting we needed to do, they pulled you all away. but this is what michael needs. i have to make sure everything is perfect.”

her words echo in your brain in a jumbled mess.

“w-who is michael…?”

she ignores your question, pulling the liquid from the viral into a syringe, and flicking the side. “of course, your friends turned out decently. but you. you were the one i needed more information on.”

“my friends?”

“oh, yes. speaking of—how are they? my daughter… the ro’meave boy… valkrum… do they seem strong? faster than average?” she questions.

you clench your jaw shut staring warily at the woman. valkrum? that’s travis’s last name. and was she talking about garroth?

“hm, not going to tell me anything? you’re not as dumb as i thought. it’s annoying, but i’ll give you credit where it’s due.” she straightens, pulling up your arm and tugging at the skin, seeming to search for a vein. “regardless, you were the one i was after the most. though, if subject one had followed you out of the house, it would’ve been nice to grab him too. it might’ve been messier, though. so it’s probably for the best that he didn't.”

garroth…

“…where am i now?” you whisper.

you flinch as her bony hands tightly wrap around your arm, holding it still as she injects the strange liquid into your bloodstream. it burns, and you can feel every drop of it trimming against your skin. you wince and groan at the feeling, attempting to squirm away but quickly getting stopped by the restraints.

elizabeth sets down the empty syringe on a nearby table, glancing at you before scribbling onto her clipboard again. “oh, you were just here. well, close by, at least. i’m not sure what garte was thinking. setting a new vacation spot right next to here, but… he was never the brightest out of all of us.”

“all of us?” you repeat, before hunching over with a muffled yelp as a wave of pain shoots through your spine.

“isn’t it obvious? didn’t you ever pick up on strange behavior with your parents? the ro’meaves? sylvanna?”

the man turns his head over at that, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment.

“sylvanna?” you stutter, shoulders trembling. “ah—”

the pain shoots into your head, stabbing against your skull.

“mm. if zack here hadn’t fucked up so badly, we could’ve successfully had her daughter as the fifth subject, but…” she turns back, giving a harsh glare at the man. he stares back for just a moment, before turning to the screens again.

“it doesn’t matter. you and four are the main candidates anyway. he’s already a vessel…” she glances back at you, cutting herself off. “…by the end of my experiments, i don’t expect you to remember much. but i won't explain any further to be sure.”

you can barely process her words any longer, ears ringing. you feel like your blood is about to burst from your body, the veins in your arm growing bright green.

“what…did you do to me?” you cry, gasping for air.

“i injected the last strain of our original forever potion,” she states. “you’ll probably be in pain for a while. but it should help advance the experiments i have planned for you.”

your vision blurs, lines clashing and dissipating into strange shapes. it burns. every nerve in your body felt like it was being singed with a hot iron, the potion burning and engraving itself into the very fiber of your being.

there’s a sharp pain against your leg, and you look up to see red pooling against the scratchy fabric of your pants, soaking into its off-white color. elizabeth has leaned down, a scalpel twirling in her hand as she observes the wound she just inflicted. with a swipe of her hand, she stabs into your other leg, sending another sharp wave of pain through your nerves.

it’s too much. you feel every beat of your heart as it strains and thuds against your chest, the palpitations feeling much slower than you’re sure was normal.

“stop—stop!” you think you manage to scream, black spots dancing in your vision.

cool blue irises lock on your unfocused ones, the woman’s head tilting at your protests.

“no.”

your flesh tears, warm blood spilling down and leaving your body cold. all you hear is your blood rushing through your head in protest before you are once again enveloped in relieving darkness.

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @arienic @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @remiechu @valentique @kalegrinch @izzybella1807

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yosh-iro · 3 months ago

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wikihow to make people not hate you

#i miss my friends #i miss talking to people #even if everything was through a screen and text #but i fucked up and i dont think any of them would want to talk to me ever again #and i think reaching out to apologise again might make them hate me more #because idk if they'll see me reaching out as trying to start drama again when i never meant to in the first place #im just so shit at communicating my feelings that it makes it seem disingenuous #but im really sorry and i miss them so fucking much #even if i dont understand how i fucked up i know i did somewhere and that its my fault for not knowing better #because when i apologised originally it just got more people mad at me for not apologising specifically for what i did #when i even said in the apology that i didnt know but i was willing to help fix it if they explained it to me #some people said its my fault for not understanding and that i couldnt be sorry if i didnt understand #and i really dont know at this point #i felt like i communicated my intentions as clearly as i could to as many people as i could #but maybe i didnt do it as well as they thought i shouldve even if i dont know how to #i was direct and told/showed people exactly what i was doing #maybe i missed something????#i just feel like shit all the time #even more than i did before #i miss everybody so fucking much #i feel like i overreacted by leaving before they officially kicked me out of the group and maybe that makes me a coward #but i was just so hurt by how they reacted even after everything i did to communicate before and try to make up after #idk maybe im just a narcissist #i probably dont deserve to have friends then #vent post #yoshi talk

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ectoplasmer · 1 year ago

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rgrhrgrhgr going insane thinking about how I have felt so much love and affection for a character from a card game anime of all things!! for over two years!!! one of the most frustrating guys ever nonetheless!!!!

#bakura i love you HOWEVER i also simultaneously want to shake you vigorously because!!! what! is!! your!!! PROBLEM!!!!#god i love him so much. have for over two years. isn’t that insane??#what happened to the days i would excitedly text my friend about every time he showed up in the manga #or how i’d get so hyped when he got screen time or attention in the anime or games #how shy i’d get about f/oing him because such and such #trying to downplay how much i actually liked him #it’s so funny i don’t even remember when he started getting most of my attention lol it just. kinda happened #so funny how that works it was mostly like that for the other boys too #not to say i don’t still get hyped about him getting attention and his scenes etc #because i do. but it’s just different now i guess #deeper affinity for him or something i don’t know #just insane that i can love someone this much. someone who is SOOOO FRUSTRATING!!!!!#ghfhfbf i love my sharp edgy boyfriend though even if he drives me insane with everything he does </3 #he’s everything to me though. all of his wrongs and all of the bad parts of him and all of the angst and whatever else #he’s been with me for over two years i don’t know how i couldn’t adore every bit of him <3 #been thinking of doing a dm rewatch for the longest time… i just barely have any free space to do things between school and stuff >_<#i keep reminding myself that if i live through the rest of this school year and the next then i can mentally marry my boyfriends #and it’s unironically the one thing that gets me to finish and out effort into assignments sometimes AGSJDHJSS #not even ashamed to admit that. i will kiss those boys on the altar one day just you wait #anyway. rgrhrgh biting bakura over and over and over again I LOVE YOU!! STUPID!!! i also simultaneously Despise you #jk i could never. sometimes he pushes me to it though </3 KIDDING anyway i need to go stare at pictures of him for the next 30 mins #four of spades

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random-thot-generator · 1 month ago

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Ghost decides after one blind date that you're going to be his.

>>>>>

Simon isn't used to dating. A quick hook up in the loo, sure. A drunken one night stand? He's had too many of those to count. But proper courting? Hell, it's been years, maybe a decade, since he's taken a bird out on an actual date.

It's probably going to be a disaster, but he gave Johnny his word he'd go out with his bird's best friend, so he can't back out now. He'll just have to grit his teeth and power through it.

His sour outlook for the evening is forgotten the second he sees you walk in with Johnny's bird. You're no tipsy tart on the pull, like the birds he's used to dealing with. You're a proper lady, dolled up nice for your date with him. It makes his chest feel tight when he gets a good look at your pretty face and nervous little smile.

His usual gruff manner is obviously not going to fly with you, so he quickly tries to recall the mannerisms he's seen his captain use around women. He gets to his feet with Johnny when the two of you reach the table, trying his best to look less intimidating.

Johnny introduces the two of you, and Simon melts inside when he takes your soft little hand in his for the first time. His brain goes fuzzy, dark eyes glazing over, and he's not sure what he says when he greets you, but it earns him a smile.

"It's really nice to meet you, Simon," are the first words you say to him.

Your voice is soft and sweet, and the way you say his name? Oh, he's gonna need to hear more of that, and often.

For the first time in a long time, Simon's worried about what someone thinks of him. He's worried he'll put you off with his harsh manner. So, he minds his words and gentles his tone. He slows his steps to match your pace and tucks your small hand at his elbow to keep you close and safe. He's holding doors and pulling out your chair. He compliments your dress and hair.

And when your heel catches on the sidewalk and you stumble, he doesn't bark a laugh or say something mean, wouldn't bloody dream of it. No, he catches you before you fall, and all that softness in his hands makes something shift in his brain. You're such a fragile little thing, delicate as spun sugar. You need a big nasty mutt like him to protect you, take care of you, and he's more than willing to do the job.

When the date is over, Simon sees you home, and you kiss him on your front stoop. It's not all groping hands and tangling tongues. It's a gentle press of lips, his big hands cradling your face, the sweet intimacy making his eyes flutter shut. He's floating when he finally gets back in his truck and drives himself home.

Instead of going to bed, Simon begins to formulate a plan of strategy. He figures it'll take a few more dates before you invite him into your flat, and several more after that before you invite him into your bed, then eventually into your life. It might take months, even a year or more. That's alright, though. If his years in the military have taught him anything, it's patience.

Simon knows how to play the long game. He'll go at your pace, let you get used to having him around, then make himself indispensable to you. No one will treat you as good, meet your every need and desire the way he will. He won't stop until he is your world, your reason for being. Your everything.

And when enough time has passed, he'll claim you completely as his. He's going to put a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly, then tuck you away safe and sound in one of those cute country cottages he looked up online. You'll be his little missus, and he'll be your tamed beast, keeping his teeth and claws hidden but at the ready.

By the time he arrives at your flat the next evening for your second date, he's already got your engagement ring in his safe at home and the names of your future children picked out.

And when you text him the day after to invite him for dinner, the new name he replaced yours with pops up on his screen.

It says 'Missus Riley', of course.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost call of duty

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2tarbell · 1 month ago

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one order for a vanilla birthday cake pleaseee!

kook!reader texting rafe “what position have you got her in?” when he takes too long to respond to a text

happy birthday, angel 💓

BSF!RAFE + KOOK!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

manicured pink nails tapped impatiently on the restaurant table. eyes glued to the bedazzled device with a glittery pout adorning her lips. this was so unfair. rafe would have a fucking conniption if she even thought about not texting him back. and now it’s been… seven fucking minutes? yeah, right.

the last time she left him on delivered for two minutes he was blowing her phone up and all grumbly the rest of the week, pounding her into oblivion for playing games. dont get her wrong; she loved it. being fucked within an inch of her life was her favorite pastime.

but now? rafe cameron was like the worst hypocrite known to man.

‘what position u got her in?’

‘Be so fr’

it brought a smile to her pretty face seeing his sassy reply. with a satisfied huff, she set her phone face down on the table. why not make him sweat? picking up her long island iced tea with a devious grin, she was right back into the conversation with her girls.

the table was alight with giggles and gossip — the pack of kook girls enjoying lunch together after before hitting the beach.

it was supposed to be an easy day, a break from all the confusion and feelings still swirling around princess and her tall, handsome “best friend”. and she desperately needed that. needed some semblance of normalcy before shit took off and everything on the island changed when the two most hated and loved rich kids finally get together.

so she didn’t even flinch when her phone vibrated once, twice, thrice. she only excused herself from the conversation with a smile when her phone buzzed in a rhythmic pattern — a phone call. bubbles of giddy excitement filling her tummy as ‘rafey’ showed on the screen with a point five angled photo of him looking pissed.

“‘kay— be right back, girls!” she sang, already standing with her phone in hand.

“he finally called you, huh?” melodie, a beautiful brunette in a lilac bikini top teased. the table giggled, all looking at princess and feeling a rush of girlish excitement.

“get your man, baby!” another girl, aliyah, borderline squealed.

princess flushed, feeling her body heat up at the prospect of rafe being ‘her man’. god, imagine! she waved them off embarrassedly, teetering away on her platform flip flops, pleasantly tipsy as she leans against the outside wall of the restaurant.

“hellooooo?”

her voice was sugary sweet into the phone, looking down at her nails and checking the polish for any chips. the warm timbre of rafe cameron’s voice rumbled through the speaker, directly pressed into her ear. she found herself wishing to feel his lips moving around the words and against the shell of her ear.

“you’re somethin’ else, dollface.” he mumbled and she could hear the smirk on his lips.

“aw, you didn’t say ‘hi’, rafe…” she pouted, biting back a laugh at the sound of his heavy sigh on the other end.

“hi. you’re somethin’ else.”

“hiii. why’s that?”

his laugh came through the speaker, all deep and settling into her bones like it always does. she hears the tick, tick of his blinker, meaning he’s driving somewhere in that big truck of his.

princess looks around at the marina, taking the sight of obx residents enjoying the still warm, early fall weather. hot enough to take a dip without the water being freezing yet. rafe continued on as she flitted her gaze around the area.

he ignored her question, instead asking his own.

“checked your location. you tipsy right now?”

a giggle escaped her glossy lips, head lolling slightly, “mmm, maybe… why?”

“go back in and pay. sent you one fifty.”

she froze, pulling the phone from her ear and seeing an apple pay notification. he always did this. not like she could just use her dad’s card or anything.

“rafe cameron—“

he cut her off, hanging up after and not letting her protest, “hey— pay and then come back out. know i’ll let ‘chu make it up to me, a’ight?”

it was like a reverse walk of shame — explaining to her friends why she was leaving early and why she was covering the whole tab. walking back out with her purse on her arm as the familiar rumble of his truck approached, petulant in the way her arms were crossed. he pulled up right before her, rolling down the passenger window and smiling in that frustratingly charming way. dickhead.

she hung up with a guffaw, not believing he actually showed up when she was hanging with her friends. the possessive gesture makes her heart jump then fall. very boyfriend of him.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

“oh, that’s how you talk to someone who just paid for your lunch? get in.”

she scoffed, amused at his gall. even more so at the fact she listened — shoes clacking against the pavement. rafe leaned over the console, opening the door for her. he looks good and smells better. that cologne she bought him for his birthday last year that he seems to be wearing a lot recently. an intoxicating smell that makes her feel drunker.

a plaid button up, rolled up to the elbow and exposing strong, veiny arms causes her mind to wander as he leans closer to her.

“hey, gorgeous,” that low drawl sends goosebumps over her body, paired with a half smile that’s so pretty.

comfortable in the seat she’s become so familiar with, he closes the gap between them. giving her a kiss so casual and natural, it makes her fluffy lashes flutter rapidly. sticky gloss transfered on his mouth that he doesn’t even wipe away.

she’s even more confused when flowers are thrusted into her arms. princess blinks at him like a fish — feeling a warmth settle in her chest at the sight of her favorite blooms wrapped haphazardly in brown paper.

“they, uh— they were in this ugly fuckin’ plastic. know you hate that so… yeah,” rafe shrugs it off as he pulls out of the parking lot.

princess decides this is technically a kidnapping. especially because she’s never been more confused and lost in her life.

he leans back in the seat, driving with one hand lazily, confidently. a glimpse of blue eyes at her and she’s smiling wildly, bringing the flowers to her nose to smell them. princess leans over and kisses his cheek, feeling drunker on the moment and smell of his skin.

“i— thank you, rafey…”

rafe takes notice of how small her voice is, how vulnerable. he nods, switching hands to rest one on her leg. large, warm palm soothing her and pulling her out of her mind before she can even begin to cause herself to spiral.

he clears his throat, squeezing the plush, smooth skin of her thigh, “cowgirl.”

her furrowed brow is adorable. looking up from the bouquet in her lap and over at him in question. there’s a drunken slowness to her, a haze. he hums and pushes his hand higher — marking a mental note of how easily her legs spread to make room for him.

“that’s what position imma have you in.”

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unceeled · 3 months ago

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gojo satoru has you all covered. they were not joking when they said that this man would serve and protect because not a single thing touches you, ever. and gojo satoru is proud of that, that's what he's good at: being your personal shield.

and yet, even if he were to extend his infinity to you at every hour of the day, the one thing gojo satoru could not protect you from is getting sick.

then and there, the strongest one forgets how to act. this was not something he could fight off, something he could exorcise. no. but he felt helpless watching you squirm and curl up into a ball, sneezing and coughing on your bed.

he'd do everything in his power to take care of you, of course. but it was fidgety, at best. he never got sick growing up; he wasn't aware of the procedures of this all. so... he googled.

what else was he meant to do? you refused to eat, you were coughing up something, you were shivering, your temperature extremely high, and more things he truly did not want to think that you were going through. still, it was those same things that found their way to the google search bar as gojo satoru looked desperately for anything that could make your shivering figure feel better.

comfort was the last thing he got from his trip to the internet, however. the text on his screen informed him of the demise you'd supposedly face at this rate. you were gonna get worse and he was gonna lose the light of his life... is how he understood the search result.

after spending the whole afternoon napping, you finally stir awake feeling a cool towel on your head and something dripping on your hand. you blink the sleep away for a few more moments, eyes finally focusing on the sniffling figure holding your hand.

"toru, what's going on?" you squeeze his hand back lightly. you hear an almost theatrical gasp matched with widened blue eyes and immediately become engulfed in big bulky arms.

"i thought i was gonna lose you." he sniffs, nuzzling his face in your neck. you're left puzzled but return the hug nonetheless. "what made you think that?" satoru pulls away and examines your face. "baby, it felt like you were dying on me," he exclaims, still cupping your face.

"toru, it was probably just the flu-" you are interrupted by a cough that erupts from your throat.

"see! this is what google said would happen!"

"google? satoru gojo, you consulted google? and that's why you were crying?"

"next time i'll just exorcise every germ in this world."

"if you say so, baby"

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envy-of-the-apple · 1 month ago

Text

Third Wheel

Dark!SatoSugu x reader

(Warnings: Yandere, dark content, dark, misogynistic language, delusional behavior, kidnapping, blood, violence, +ShokoHime x reader, choking (not in the sexy way tho), threesomes, oral!F!recieving)

Synopsis: Regardless of what Satoru and Suguru tell you, you've always felt left out in this relationship. But when you leave, you quickly find out there's no line your ex-lovers won't cross to get you back

Word Count: 7.3k

When you come home that night, they're already cuddled together, watching TV.

It's cute. Your boyfriends were always so loose with their affection. When Suguru was cooking, Satoru would lean on his back, more than happy to talk his ear off. Suguru would hold Satoru's waist, steadying him, being his anchor. At night, you'd catch them reaching for each other, trying to hold hands even in their sleep.

It's clear to even the blind: they are soulmates.

And you were just extra baggage.

You don't know how you caught their eyes, but this past year was fun. They've been sweet, both of them have. Inviting you into their lives, into their home, into their bed. Everything moved so fast, but you didn't mind. You were young and a bit spontaneous. Two beautiful men showing a glimpse of interest in you wasn't something you could pass up. This was nice, while it lasted.

But unlike them, you aren't forever. Their bond would never come close to anything they could have with you.

It took a while for you to accept that, but eventually, you did.

"Hey, babe," Satoru calls. "Rough day?" He lazily waves you over. Suguru grunts, before shifting over to make space.

Despite it all, you're a coward. You don't announce it; you just stare at them. Fondly. Yes, this was nice. You don't think you could handle telling them, though; that would be too much. Seeing how little they cared would break you.

"Yeah." You give. "Rough day."

You weave through the house. It's theirs. Not yours. That they've made clear. You're an afterthought. It's the little things. Their toothbrushes are together, yours on the other side of the sink. Their shoes were neatly stacked side by side, and yours were always tucked away in a corner. Left out. Forgotten. Why wouldn't it be like that? They've been together for years. You were still an outsider.

You only have a little to grab. You just grab your extra clothes, the hair clips you have a terrible habit of leaving around. Just a few items. And then the bedroom looks like you'd never been there at all.

When you come back out, they don't notice your suitcase. Satoru laughs loudly at something happening on screen. Suguru chides him sternly. Good. It's better this way, you think as you take your suitcase to your car. You don't need any additional heartbreak.

You make a few more rounds, collecting everything you need. Suguru only catches you when you are about to leave their house forever.

"Angel?" He calls. "Where are you going?"

He's looking at you, head tilted in mild curiosity. You manage to smile, looking down at your car keys.

"Out for a drive." You shrug. "I'll be back."

Suguru takes it at face value. He lets you go with a small 'have fun'. The walk to the car is heavy. Metal dumbbells on your shoulders.

When you get in the seat, you finally allow yourself to sob.

I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore

That's how you ended the wall of text before blocking them. It was the coward's way out.

"No." Utahime's quick to tell you. "It's the only way. Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise."

You shouldn't be so quick to listen to her, considering she hates them both. Still, she was more than happy to offer you her home while you picked yourself back up, and started looking for an apartment. You'll humor her for the time being.

"She's right," Shoko pipes up. Her dark circles are even more prominent tonight. You guiltily think it has more to do with you than with her patients, but she and Utahime have insisted that you stay with them.

"It was for my sake, more than theirs." You say honestly, tucking yourself into the couch. "They...don't care about me. At least, not like they do each other."

Utahime rolls her eyes. "You are blind." She says. "Those two were obsessed with you. I'm just glad you got out while you could."

You laugh, but it beats crying all over again. Utahime doesn't find what she said as funny. She chides you again, something about being oblivious before she settles down to watch the movie she put on. Shoko falls asleep right at the intermission. Her head falls against your shoulder. Utahime leans against you too. And it's nice to have friends to fill the void they left.

Satoru appears first.

You woke up later than you would have liked. Your eyes are itchy and red from crying all night. Utahime was more than happy to give you her guestroom, but you know you can't take advantage of her kindness for too long. Tomorrow, you'll start apartment hunting.

Today, you'd sit on the couch and eat ice cream.

When you go downstairs, you hear a hushed whisper. Utahime's by the door, using her body to keep someone out. She looks angry.

"-No one's here but me. Now get the fuck off my property." She seethes.

You recognize his voice. You aren't ready. "Have you heard anything? Anything at all?"

"No." Utahime gripes. "So go, Gojo-"

He catches your eyes. Your heart gets stuck in your throat.

He's taller than her. It takes little to no effort to barrel through her body, easily shoving her aside to get to you. You flinch, his touch burns when he grabs you, pulling you into his arms.

"Oh, baby." He sighs into your hair. "There you are. Missed you."

It's too soon. You aren't ready. You can still feel the emotions bubble up from that night, when you collapsed in Utahime's arms, sobbing your heart out. This wasn't fair. They never made it fair.

You cast a glance at Utahime. She was scowling, close to boiling right over the edge. It gives you enough strength to try to push Gojo off, but he only lets go, when he wants to.

"Okay." He smiles, reaching down to grab your hand. "C'mon. Let's go home. You had us both so worried for a sec, but if we explain everything to Suguru it'll be okay."

You find your voice then. As well as your strength. His grip on your hand isn't all that tight. It slips away when you gently shake him off. Satoru stops, confused.

"Satoru..." You start. "Didn't you get my text?"

He rolls his shoulders, agitated. "Yeah, but-but it doesn't matter."

There it was. His lovable personality. Casual careless, nonchalance. For once, you aren't annoyed by it. Maybe your grief made you numb to it.

"I did mean it," you say as plainly as you can, "every word."

He freezes. You smile at Utahime.

"Could you give us some time?" You ask.

She frowns, but she's never been able to say no to you.

"Ten minutes." She finally says, before she's marching back to the kitchen. You still hear her muttering while leading Satoru back to your room.

"I'm sorry." He says when the door shuts behind him.

"For what?"

He runs a hand through his hair, taking off those glasses he loves so much. You can't look him in the eyes for too long. It brings up too many memories.

"I fucked up, right?" He says, he sounds desperate. You've never heard him sound like this before. "I'm sorry. I dunno what I did, but I'm sorry."

You shrug, picking at the lint of your sleeves. "You didn't do anything. I just...it felt like a good point to just-"

"-Leave us?" He cuts in. "Come home, baby. I'm so sorry, just come home and we'll figure this out." You look away because you can feel the tears burn up.

"You didn't do anything." You insist, but your voice is weaker.

"Was it Suguru? Did he do some bullshit?" Satoru interrogates. "What'd he do? I'll kick his ass, I promise." You hide your smile underneath your sleeves.

"He didn't do anything either," you assure, "neither of you did."

He's getting more and more desperate. "Then why did you leave us? What's wrong with us? Why can't we go home and talk this out? Please come back, baby; home doesn't feel like home without you."

Isn't this what you wanted? A confession. Evidence that they wanted you just as much as they wanted each other. Satoru certainly did. Suguru did, too, considering how hurt Satoru implied him to be. A week ago, you might have been over the moon, too wallowed in self-pity to do anything but agree, run back into their arms, and willingly sink back into 2nd place all over again.

But the thought of going back to their home makes you feel sick.

"I can't." You decide. "I just can't. It's over, Satoru."

I'm sorry. You keep that last line to yourself because you're too scared to crack in front of him. Shatter. Splinter.

Satoru doesn't share the same sentiment. You hear movement, and when you look up, he's crying.

A part of you wants to hug him, but you hold yourself back because he isn't yours anymore, and maybe he never was. Still, it hurts seeing him like this. The piece of you that still wanted him is ready to forgive and forget. Your vindictiveness keeps it at bay.

"That's not fucking fair." He's saying through his tears, even when he's crying, he's beautiful, "You-you can't just ditch us like this. You don't get it; we can't live without you. It's killing us; you're killing us, baby." He staggers forward, in a way that makes you afraid he might fall. In the end, he just collapses on the bed. Eventually, you take a seat next to him.

He's looking around, you catch him eyeing the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. The hair ties on top of the drawer. The plushies on the bed. You think it might finally be starting to sink that that you're truly gone.

"Suguru can't sleep these days, y'know that?" He starts, a sardonic laugh in his throat. "He pretends to, but he can't. He stays up all night just wishing you'd come home. The guy is miserable without you, and you can't even gimme a fucking answer."

His voice cuts you just the way it's supposed to. You wince, feeling his words slice into his skin, finding their way into your heart. You look at his shoes for a moment. He didn't bother to remove them. Maybe that's another reason why Utahime was so pissed.

"I was starting to feel like an afterthought with you two." You speak. "I mean, it makes sense, you two were together, first. I thought the barrier would just take time to go away....but then it didn't."

How many times has Suguru taken Satoru's hand over yours? How many times has Satoru forgotten your drink but not Suguru's? How many inside jokes you didn't understand? You always felt petty for being jealous over the tiniest things, but those tiny things kept getting bigger and bigger until it felt like they'd been purposely building that barrier themselves.

You were sick of feeling like the third wheel in your relationship.

"Baby..." Satoru's voice is tinged in guilt and you can't look at him because you can feel the tears start to well up. "I-I didn't realize." He grabs your hand.

"Come home." He pleads. "We'll fix it, I promise. We'll be better. We'll do better."

You shake your head, slipping away from his grip.

"It's too late." Your voice is shaky. Please let him not notice. Please, please, please for once can his oblivious about everything but his one and only work in your favor? "You can't fix anything, Satoru. Not now."

"You haven't even given us a chance to-"

"You should go." You stand up. Satoru follows you out the door. Utahime's already outside. She catches your eyes and nods.

"Gojo." She speaks, tone clipped. "Get the fuck out of my house."

He stills, frozen like the prettiest painting in the world. His eyes turn to ice as he stares at her. Utahime doesn't budge. If anything, she advances, pulling you close, acting like a human barrier between you and your ex-boyfriend. You take it immediately, nestling into her side, taking refuge from his icy stare.

There's silence. You only relax when you hear his footsteps fade and the door slams ricochets into the apartment. And that's when you break down into Utahime's arms completely, letting her coo you into comfort.

"Maybe I am being overdramatic," you say when Shoko comes back later that day. Utahime was enraged since Satoru left, pacing around the apartment. It's only after both you and Shoko coaxed her back into the couch that she calms down enough to take a seat next to you.

"Maybe this whole thing is ridiculous. I-I should just go back and-"

"No." Shoko is immediately saying voice firm. "Absolutely Not."

You can smell the hint of smoke when she came back from the hospital. You try not to assume it's because of you.

"No way in hell are we letting you go back there after what he did." Utahime gripes.

"He didn't do anything." You argue. "I swear, I-I was just...being pathetic."

Warm hands lift your head up. You struggle, still shuddering from your sobs as Utahime forces you to look at her.

Her eyes are brown. Not as glittery as Satoru's, who's eyes shine like the burning sun itself. Not like Suguru, with his celestial purple. No, hers are just brown.

You didn't realize how beautiful brown eyes could be. Not just the color of home; the color of chocolate; the color of brownies. The way the light cast down at them made them deep and dark, like a night sky. If you looked closer, you could see tiny stars swimming around.

"Listen. Are you listening?" When you nod, her voice softens. She tucks your hair behind your ear.

"You deserve better." She insists. "You deserve better than them. So so much better. I know you can't see it right now, but there is better out there waiting for you." Her voice loses all momentum all at once. "Just...trust me, okay?"

Her desperation to be heard makes you smile a bit. You nod. Her frown loosens, just the tiniest bit. She relaxes.

"Thanks," you say after a beat. "I...I needed that. I'm glad I have goods friends."

Utahime's hands drop from your face. She collapses into the couch cushions with a groan. Shoko laughs.

"Told you." Shoko says, mirth and alcohol on her tongue.

Utahime flips her off, and Shoko takes her place. She settles into your side.

"They were assholes." She tells you. "Forget about them. And she's right, you deserve better."

You were glad they were there for you, even when you weren't there for yourself. It felt nice that they cared. Vouched, Advocated for your comfort. They made better boyfriends than your old boyfriends ever did. Their support helped heal the Satoru and Suguru-sized holes left in your heart. Every day became a bit better.

When Suguru eventually turned up, you were a bit more prepared.

He's a bit nicer than Satoru was. He actually knocks, instead of relentlessly pounding on the door. He doesn't barrel through Shoko when he spots you cowering behind her. His face betrays nothing. He's still. A polite smile is stretched on his lips. Shoko isn't happy about letting him into her home, but when she glances at you, you nod. You needed to do this. You needed closure.

And so did Suguru.

You don't speak to him until you're shut in your room. Geto cuts the silence first.

"How have you been?" He asks nicely.

"Good." You respond. "You?"

"Good."

Conversation stilts. You don't know what to say. Luckily, your ex is never the man who stays silent for long.

"How's living with Shoko and Utahime been?" He asks, "I'm surprised you've put up with them for this long. They were pretty scary in high school."

"I bet you two were scarier." You counter.

He smiles. It's soft, looks good on him. You find yourself smiling back. When you take a seat on the the of the bed, he doesn't follow. You don't know whether to feel glad or not.

"Yeah, I'm not the proudest of those times." He admits with a sheepish laugh.

It dies down, and you know the artificial barrier between you two has broken. You shift, waiting for the inevitable.

"Satoru told me what happened." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Angel. We-I didn't know how you felt. Everything was so perfect, I just thought you felt the same."

"It's fine." You assure, and this time, your throat doesn't clog up, and your eyes don't feel itchy. "Really. It's-it's fine."

"It's not." Suguru shakes his head. "You'd be in bed with us if it were."

That comment pricks something deep within your skin. You swallow, turning away from his piercing purple eyes. They were much like Satoru's. Breathtaking, you could stare at them for hours. You used to.

But now, you don't have that desire anymore.

And maybe now that you aren't so attached, maybe you could try being a little more honest.

"I was jealous." You finally admit. "I couldn't help it. I-I always felt like I was fighting within my relationship. You two were so much closer to each other than I was. Than I ever could be, honestly."

Suguru frowns, troubled.

"That's not true." He insists, soft, but something's burning underneath his tone. "Satoru and I have history, but that doesn't mean-"

"I was runner-up." You cut him off. "For both of you. Looking back, I'm not really upset. It was always impossible for anything to come between the two of you. This-" You gesture between you and him "-was always inevitable."

"It's my fault." You smile at him, hoping it comes across as sincere as you feel. "I couldn't stand being second place."

He moves then, kneeling in front of you. Eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He catches your hands in his. You let him. A parting gift.

"Angel." He starts. "We never once thought of you as that."

You shrug. "It doesn't matter." You reply. "It's how I always felt. You can't really change the way I feel about things, Suguru."

You think he's realizing that he's beginning to lose you. His grip gets tighter as if he can physically keep you with him at the very least. He shifts until he's right at your knees, looking up at you desperately.

"Come back." He insists, abandoning his persuasions. "Just...come back. At least for a little while? We can try again, can't we? Just give us a second chance?"

It's strange, they don't look too similar, but you can see the similarities. Wow, they're just perfect for each other, aren't they? Yin and Yang. Two halves; one whole.

You were always a leftover. You just had to learn that the hard way, through days of heartbreak, crying, and sobbing your heart out. It took you awhile to understand that the affection they had for each other is different from the affection they had for you.

You shake your head. His hands nearly crush yours.

"I love you."

It takes you a while to figure out what he said. When it does sink in, your world tilts. Your heart stops at his abrupt declaration and you must stare at him because why? At first, you think he's just desperate: lovebombing. And then you look into his eyes, his sincerity. No, he means it. It makes you feel worse.

"Satoru does, too, but you know him-he'd rather die than admit something like that." Suguru gives a bitter laugh, one you find familiar even after all this time. "I've always wanted to tell you but thought it was too soon. I thought we had all the time in the world." His voice tapers so he doesn't have to say the obvious but clearly you three didn't.

You want to reach over, tuck a stray lock behind his ear but you stop yourself because he isn't yours anymore. You gave it all away when you ran. Instead, you curl your hands around his in silent understanding.

You don't know how you didn't realize it before, but Suguru is less put together than usual. His hair is typically well-groomed and shiny, but now you see split ends. His eyes are clear and bright, but today...they aren't. A dull purple. Hazy violet.

He's miserable.

You did this. This was all you.

"Satoru misses you," he says, "always had. Barely smiles anymore. I don't think I can blame him."

They loved you. They love you. This was all what you wanted. Just a bit of recognition. There's a tiny part of you that's still itching to jump back in Suguru's arms, kiss him until you're out of breath 'just kidding! it was a prank! let's go home!' and then you two would leave hand-in-hand back to Satoru.

Going back to them would make them happy, but not you.

But Shoko was right. You deserved better.

"It'll get better." You assure. "You'll heal."

Day by day, the cracks in your heart start to seal. Bit by bit. It may never heal over completely, but you know you'll be okay one day. And they'll be alright too. Who knows, maybe in a couple years, you'll all laugh at this.

Suguru shakes his head and stands up. His eyes are just the bit glassy, but he's blinking them away before anything gives. It's just like him, honestly, so you're not too upset.

"You don't get it." He's smiling, not quite in humor. "I don't think you'll ever do but..." He trails off, mid-thought.

"But what?" You press.

Then he sighs and closes his eyes. When he looks at you again, his signature pleasantly cold smile is on his face.

"I did all I could, I think." He turns around, abrupt. "I'll see myself out."

You're caught off-guard by his sudden departure, but by the time you're following him, Shoko's already leading him out the front door, locking it with exasperation.

"Is that it?" She asks. "They won't be barging in anytime soon, right?"

You stare out the window, watching as Suguru gets in his car. Something bubbled in your stomach.

It was one of those nights. Shoko had come back early. Utahime was back from the school. You had planned a cute little evening for the girls and a relaxing night in. You had everything: wine, freshly-prepared dinner, a cheesy horror movie, and an announcement you're sure they were more than happy to hear.

You had just settled down the blanket when you hear Shoko come through the door. You take off her coat before she can even touch it, excitedly flitting around her.

"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Shoko asks, her dark circles even more profound than before. You don't have to feel guilty about those for long.

"You'll see!" You chirp back.

Utahime strolls out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. Her hair is still wet. You'll ask if you can blow dry it later.

"That's what you've been saying for nearly an hour now." Utahime groans. "Just tell us already. Or at least, me."

"Patience." You chastise. "But, it's a good surprise, I promise."

She's not satisfied, but she sits down anyway. They eat dinner, complimenting your skills all the while. You preen at their praise. It's a stark contrast between Suguru and Satoru, how cold they'd often been whenever you did something nice for them: tilted smiles, less-than-receptive words of 'oh baby you didn't have to'.

As you lived with both couples, you can see the similarities. Utahime's temper is close to Satoru's, but that's where the similarities stop. She's more serious and less likely to blow off your feelings with a playful huff. Shoko and Suguru share the same laid-back personality, but Shoko is always there to listen to you instead of cutting you off with condescending sympathy.

Wow, maybe Satoru and Suguru were a little more shitty than you initially thought.

Eventually, the night draws to a close. They're drunk, full, and smiling. Perfect. You clear your throat just when Shoko refills her fourth glass.

"Again, I'd really like to thank you for letting me stay." You start. "It meant so much to me to have two amazing people to support me like this. So, thank you."

Utahime smiles. "Don't thank us," she says, "again, you can stay for as long as you want-forever, honestly!"

You nod. "Well, I don't think I have to do that anymore."

Shoko freezes mid-sip.

"What?" She asks.

"I talked to my parents." You tell them, oblivious to their stone faces. "And I'm going to move back in with them, just until I get back on my feet. Isn't that great? Now, you two won't have to-"

You stop when you finally notice how cold they look. Utahime looks close to tears.

"What's wrong?" You ask.

"You're leaving?" Utahime asks, her voice nearly cracks. "Why?"

That...wasn't what you were expecting. Shouldn't they be glad the third wheel is finally out of their house? Why does Utahime look so heartbroken? Why is Shoko so quiet? What was going on?

"Isn't-isn't this what you wanted?" You fumble with your words. "Now, you don't have to share the house with me anymore. It'll be just the two of you again."

They exchange glances, and it reminds you of those secret conversations Suguru and Satoru used to have. Except this time, you can read their faces.

"What if...we don't want it to be just the two of us anymore?" Shoko starts, hesitant, reproachful like she's approaching a scared wild animal.

Your eyebrows scrunch. "I don't understand."

At that, Utahime drops her head in her hands. "Oh, c'mon! We've been doing this for weeks! You can't be that oblivious-"

And then, she stops herself. Looks at you. You stare right back, and the three of you have the exact same realization at the exact same time.

"Oh." You breathe.

"Oh." Utahime whispers.

"We're all idiots." Shoko says behind her glass.

"Wait wait. Hold on." You backtrack. "You-you two want...with me?"

"Yes!" Utahime exclaims. "Yes! God, now everything makes sense. I thought you were just trying to let us down gently, but this whole time you just weren't even paying attention!"

"No." You argue, face hot. "You two were just really subtle."

"We all sleep in the same room, these days." Shoko lists. "'Hime sat on your lap with nothing on but a bra and panties."

"I thought we were just doing friend things!"

"What kinds of friends sit on your lap, half-naked?" Utahime asks, mortified.

"I-I-" You give up.

All this time. You were mourning over something you lost months ago, even when there was something blooming right under your nose. God, you're an idiot.

Hands. They clasp your own. You look up into Utahime's pretty brown eyes.

"We want you to stay." She whispers. "We want you." You take a glance at Shoko.

"Do you want us?"

You take a deep breath.

You nod.

She's smiling, and then Utahime's kissing you. Soft, so soft, nothing like the possessive kisses Satoru gives you. It's innocent and adoring and you find yourself melting into her completely.

Utahime disappears and before you can mourn her warmth, Shoko's lips join yours. You can smell the alcohol, the slightest sting of cigarettes. You don't mind it. Her kisses are nothing like Suguru's, all powerful and domineering. She takes what you give her, asking ever so nicely for more.

You break away, panting.

"You good?" She asks.

You nod.

"Good." Shoko hums. "Cuz we're gonna fuck you now."

"What?"

Shoko pushes you down on the couch. You land with an oomph before Utahime's descends on you with a flurry of kisses.

"Waited so long to do this, baby." She's sighing into your lips, fiddling with your shirt so she can pull it off. "Weeks and weeks."

She pulls down one of your bra cups, massaging at your tits. You hadn't had action in so long, so you eagerly encouraged her movements, kissing her back with just as much fervor. Shoko takes her place next to her girlfriend, pawing at your other tit.

"Look." Shoko purrs. "One for each of us." Her soft mouth sucks on your nipple, swirling it around her mouth. Your head leans back with a pleasant sigh.

"Feel good?" Utahime asks. "She's good with her tongue, isn't she?"

"Yes," you nod, and Utahime gives out a delighted giggle, peppering your face with kisses. You gasp when you feel her hand shift through your shorts, palming at your dripping pussy.

"Poor thing." Utahime's cooing, and there's a brief hint of mockery in her tone. You've never heard that before. It turns you on even more. "They never gave you attention back there did they?" She circles your clit. "They were too busy sucking each other's dicks to pay attention to such a pretty pussy."

Shoko pops off your tits, shifting down. She kisses her way to your stomach. You blearily watch as she adjusts herself until she's right at your shorts. Utahime follows her lead, tugging off your shorts. Your panties go next.

And then you're staring down at them with trepid anticipation.

"I meant what I said." Shoko says softly. "You deserve better. You deserve someone who cares for you."

"You deserve us." With that, She and Utahime latch onto your pussy.

They're everywhere. You have to stop yourself from cumming right then and there, arching your back as one of them sucks on your clit while the other licks into your hole. She manages to stick her tongue inside of you, and it's enough to shoot sparks through your eyes.

"So tight." Utahime's hissing into your cunt. "Sho, after this, you wanna try to fuck this pussy with your strap?"

There's a soft laugh, and Shoko pulls away from your clit to answer, much to your disappointment. You whine, thrusting your hips in the air. She stills you with a hush.

"I don't think we're ready just yet." She hums. "Yet."

When you glance down, they both are making out with your clit. It's debaucherous. Their soft lips are connected, your tiny bud locked in the middle as their spit trickles down into your pussy. Utahime groans and when you look further down, you realize she's touching herself.

You don't know which part of this makes you cum, but you cum. It's the hardest you've ever orgasmed. There's so much stimulation that your hips buck up, trying to chase the sparks of pleasure. They let you, licking you through your orgasm.

When you come down, your thighs fall apart, splayed against the soft cushions. Utahime still isn't finished, licking at your clit. You shudder at the overstimulation, whining until Shoko is pulling her off of you by her hair.

"Good, baby?" She asks, crawling back up to you. You kiss her as an answer. She melts in delight.

You break the kiss, glancing over at Utahime.

Taking the silent request, she kisses you again. You can taste yourself on her lips. You don't mind it. For some reason, it's sweeter on Utahime's tongue.

When she breaks away, she stares at you, face soft. "You're staying, right?" She asks you. "You'll stay with us? Because after this, I don't think we could ever let you go."

You give a shy nod, and Utahime beams.

"Then, you're ours now," Shoko says, settling into your side. "And we're yours. Always."

"Always." You breathe, content, happy. You could almost go to sleep.

Shoko slaps your thigh.

"Not yet." She warns before propping you up. "First, I want you to sit on my face."

Hours later, you wake up delightfully sore in bed. The two girls are curled up next to you. When you move, you can still feel the bruises Utahime left. You never knew she liked to bite so much.

You can't even begin to remember what happened, but you don't regret any of it. Hours and hours had passed as they fucked you and fucked each other, and you fucked them.

Shoko shifts beside you. She was always a light sleeper.

"Awake?" She asks.

"Yeah." You softly say back.

She hums, shifting a little more to face you. Utahime's behind you, arms protectively curled around your waist. At your voice, her eyes twitch.

"Shut up." She grumbles, but her arms cinch around your waist.

Shoko stretches as she rises up. You miss her body warmth but you don't mind the view she gives as she saunters over to the dresser, pulling on some clothes.

"I'm gonna get food."

Utahime mumbles out her order. You say nothing because you don't want to come in between them, and then Shoko looks at you.

"What do you want?" She prompts.

You blink, and when you answer, Shoko smiles, and then she's out the door.

The interaction makes your heart warm.

Still, it can't last.

When you go to get up, Utahime protests, grabbing your wrist.

"And where are you going?" She prods.

You fumble. "Back to my room?"

"What? Why?" Utahime demands with a frown. "What's the point, you're already with us, now."

"Oh." You blink, but you give in and slink back into bed. "Is...this really okay?"

"For God's sake, " she hisses, but you don't count it against her because Utahime has always been a little grumpy after waking up. "Yes. We're obsessed with you. How are you so blind?"

"We want you, and we're not like them." Her voice drops in disdain. "We'll treat you better. You're ours now. You're mine."

"Yours." You repeat, something warm fluttering in your belly.

"You can't leave, we'd go crazy, okay?" She seriously tells you. "If someone else takes you away, I'd lose it. And Shoko is okay with murder."

You laugh.

"That's not a joke." She warns.

"I know." And you kiss her again.

It's like that for a couple weeks. You live in peaceful domestic bliss with two wonderful girlfriends. Now that you're in an actual loving relationship, you can't tell why you ever contemplated ever going back to Satoru and Suguru. Shoko actually talked to you about your feelings. Utahime cared about your input. You weren't treated like an afterthought, second place.

They were with each other longer than they had been with you, but they never made you feel like you had to fight for your relationship. Speaking off Satoru and Suguru, they never once contacted you after their first two attempts. They'd clearly given up.

Everything was just perfect.

And then, it just wasn't.

You were in bed with them. Fifteen minutes ago, Utahime shuffled off to go to the bathroom. She still wasn't back. Half asleep, Shoko grumbled.

"She's probably in there fighting a cockroach." She complains, but she rises anyway. "Sleep, I'll be back." She kisses you on the cheek, and then she's gone.

Their body warmth fades, but they stay because they're tired. These days, you can't really sleep without them, so you wait for the girls to return. Two minutes pass. Then, five. Then, ten. By then, the bed is cold.

You open your eyes, sitting up. It's so quiet. Are they okay?

You pull off the comforter, stepping onto the cold wooden floor. The apartment feels strangely...haunted somehow. The air felt heavier now, thick with an invisible tension, like the house itself was holding its breath. It must be because you feel alone, you're sure of it.

The bedroom leads to a dark hallway. As you make your way down, you can hear something. Voices? Murmuring. The relief almost makes you laugh. Seriously, what were you even afraid about?

The living room is horrific.

They look dead. You can't tell if they're breathing or not. Shoko's eyes are closed. Utahime's limp body is sprawled across the floor. There's blood on the wooden panels.

Suguru doesn't even blink.

"You're awake." He says it so casually, like waking up to your ex-boyfriends mauling your girlfriends is normal.

"What..." Your voice fails, you weakly try again. "What did you two do?"

Satoru answers, smiling with glinty teeth.

"Isn't it obvious? We're getting rid of the competition."

You don't understand, your brain hasn't caught up yet, you still think you can talk to these psychos.

"It's their fault." Satoru's still smiling, but there's nothing happy about his tone. He's carrying a knife. There's blood on it. "It's all their fault. They manipulated you into breaking up with us, baby. That's how these useless sluts got you into their arms." He spits on Utahime's hair. You cover your face with your hands.

"But, it's not like you aren't at fault, Baby." He points the knife at you. "You left us for them. I'm not letting you off the hook for that."

You don't know what he's saying. His movements scare you, his eyes, the knife. When you glance at Suguru, you don't know what you're expecting.

But you know you aren't expecting...that.

His purple eyes are icy cold. Utterly devoid of any emotion. You don't think you're staring at a person, anymore.

"You lied," Suguru says, "You lied about us not giving you enough attention. You just wanted to leave us. For them."

You step back. They step forward.

Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise. Utahime warned you. Looking at her limp body, you wondered if she thought they'd ever go this far.

"I didn't." You weakly insist. "I-I wasn't lying about anything! It-it wasn't like I wanted to leave-"

"Stop lying," Gojo insists. "Stop fucking lying already."

He smiles again.

"It's okay, baby. I know you'll come back with us. Right after we're done dealing with these two whores."

"You'll belong to us." Suguru promises and he steps on Shoko's hands. "Just like always."

They were both crazy. Nothing could get through to them. Now, you would sit there and watch them maul the only things in your life that made you feel complete.

The worst part is that everything was your fault.

Shoko's pinky twitches. You can see Utahime take shallow breathes.

And you speak.

"I'm sorry."

Your weak voice makes them stop in their tracks. Satoru glances at you, Suguru does too. You can't convince them. The only thing you can do is play into their delusions.

"You're right." You say, the tears finally feeling useful. "I just wanted to leave. I-I was just bored. I wanted something new." Suguru's lips curl and you quickly move on. "But-but the more I stayed with them, the more I realized...how much I missed you two."

Satoru halts. You caught him.

"I did." You stress, carefully making your way to him on feet that were close to dropping at any minute. "Every day, I thought about you two." You reach out, touching his face with shaky fingers. "I really really wanted to come back, but I was afra-afraid you wouldn't...want me back."

Satoru reaches up to touch your hand. His fingers are cold. You resist the urge to shudder.

"You missed us?" He wonders.

The lie feels like sand.

"More than anything."

His kiss is violent. He crushes you with his grip, touching and biting and everything you hate. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting him suck your soul dry.

"Don't kill them." You whisper when he finally pulls away. "Please don't kill them. Everything was my fault."

Satoru's face is pensive. His gaze drifts off to Suguru's. Those silent conversations you hated so much.

Then, Satoru gives a delighted sigh.

"You're lucky. I love you so much." He kisses your nose, before pushing you in Suguru's arms.

"I'll clean up here. Suguru, go back to the truck." He demands.

You don't fight, letting Suguru drag you away. Shoko and Utahime live in apartments, but you're afraid if you scream, Satoru might change his mind and gut them anyway. Before Suguru leads you off, you catch Gojo scoffing before he kicks at Utahime's face. You gasp and pray that when Shoko wakes up, she'll be coherent enough to call for an ambulance.

I'm sorry, you tell them. I'm so so sorry.

Suguru pushes you into the backseat of their vehicle. You obediently take a seat.

"You shouldn't have left." He tells you. "You should've stayed."

His face is cold, but his tone betrays the tiniest tremor. If you weren't so scared, you'd laugh. The irony is that he's the one who feels wronged here.

"I'm sorry," you say anyway.

He hums, not quite satisfied with your answer.

"You aren't." He responds, and you hate how well he knows your tells.

And then, he grins.

"But you will be."

Hands reach out, gripping your neck. You flail immediately as Suguru cuts of your oxygen. You can't breathe. You can't fucking breathe. No matter how tightly you squeeze onto his wrist, digging your nails into his hands, clawing at his face. He keeps you still, keeping you there as you grow weaker. Your vision gets blurry. Your attempts get sluggish. There's a kiss on your forehead, and you black out completely.

You wake up in a room you've never seen before. And your neck is sore.

The pain drifts in as soon as consciousness does. You feel like you have a hangover, your head throbs, your eyes struggle to remain open. You can't go back to sleep either, not when it hurts so much.

The panic doesn't settle in until you catch the cuffs on either one of your legs, keeping you attached to the bedpost. Silver chains, with enough lead to let you move around a bit. The cuffs are padded so you don't rub yourself raw. You don't care about the thoughtfulness.

They're in the room with you, watching with silent eyes. Nausea builds up in your stomach, and you wonder how long they'd stayed there, just watching you.

You miss Shoko. You miss Utahime. You missed people who actually loved you.

Not these two. Monsters that lied and pretended, but deep down, they were just too selfish to share.

"You were out for a while." Suguru comments.

"I told you to use the syringe," Satoru remarks, but he doesn't sound too upset. At his voice, Suguru laughs.

You shift in your spot. Suguru takes that as an invitation. He sits at the edge of the bed, watching you with satisfied eyes. You must look pathetic: shivering, in tears. He reaches up, catching your tears with his finger.

"So cute." And then he frowns. "You know why we're doing this, yes? You were bad. You need to be punished."

"I'm sorry." It's all you can say. You feel like a broken record, doomed to repetition over and over again.

"You aren't. You should stop lying." Suguru says sweetly. "But I'm sure, a couple hours in your new home will help you think about how much you hurt us."

You wanted to scream, but you can't cuz your throat still hurts from Suguru's hands, and you know he's not above putting his hands on you this time. Maybe he never was, you just never saw this side of him until you made him snap.

"You're leaving?" You stumble, moving as they back away but the chains only take you so far. There are no windows, and when Suguru shuts the light off, the only thing that's keeping you from the dark entirely is the light emitting out the hallway.

"Wait." You beg. "Please. Wait, don't-don't leave me here. I'm sorry. This is scary. I'm scared."

Satoru hesitates at your broken voice. Like a shark smelling blood, you pounce.

"Satoru, please."

"If you keep coddling, then the lesson will never be learned." Suguru warns.

Satoru stares at you. He's not wearing his sunglasses. You can see him for what he is now.

"I love you." He says it so sincerely, you almost believe it. "This is for your own good."

The door shuts, and everything goes dark.

#yandere jjk #yandere #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #dark content #yandere gojo satoru #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere gojo x reader #yandere jjk x reader #yandere geto suguru #yandere geto suguru x reader #dark geto suguru #shoko ieiri x reader #utahime x reader #yandere satosugu #dark satosugu #yandere scenarios #shokohime x reader

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gurugirl · 6 months ago

Text

Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

“So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2

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