#it doesn't look laid-back and casual (at least not when i do it) it looks badly done

[marigraphia]

Revisited a 4-year-old old sketch of my girl (still unnamed 🥲)

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor II

Summary: It feels like you and Harry are looking for different things. You aren't cut out for casual and Harry doesn't have time to focus on a relationship. But feelings are complicated and Harry doesn't even know what he wants until he realizes he can't stop thinking about you.

A/N: Here she is! The final part! I hope y'all enjoy! Part I Here

Word Count: 13.375

Warning: smut, angst, fluff, praise kink, size kink (kind of)

. .

It was another round of disappointment with Gunther after the 2nd time. Not only because he was so unenthusiastic and he wouldn’t return the favor (still), but because you really couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. About how good it had been with him.

As you were going down on Gunther you kept sucking him in and it just didn’t feel the same. He smelled different, and not necessarily bad but it wasn’t as pleasant as it could have been. He’d definitely sprayed some kind of cologne on and you could taste the bitterness of it on your tongue. And he was kind of rough with you. Pressed the back of your head down and grunted once or twice. You even attempted to run your finger over the spot Harry showed you and he got all squicked out by it thinking you were trying to put it in his butthole. And that reaction had totally ruined the moment for you.

Just like the first time, you left his dorm and walked back to yours alone in the dark with nothing but your thoughts and a touch of disgust. You considered reaching out to Harry. He did mention to you that you could call him anytime. And you were left fully unsatisfied by Gunther. There was no part of you that didn’t believe Harry could satisfy you every which way.

You figured you’d call it quits with Gunther after that and maybe you’d contact Harry again. But to your surprise, he contacted you first.

H: How did it go with Gunther?

You were working on a paper at your desk when you saw his message. Of course, you stopped everything to respond.

Not great. He did cum, though. So I guess that’s good! lol

H: Did you also cum?

You swallowed and bit your lip as you felt your cheeks heat up at that question.

No.

It took a bit for him to respond. You weren’t sure if he was in the middle of something or if he didn’t have anything more to say, or maybe it was that he was thinking of how to word his response. And by then you had a hard time getting back into working on your paper so you called it quits for the day and decided to shower.

You kept wondering what was on Harry’s mind. Wondered if you should follow up with him. Ask him to see you again. And when you got out of your shower you had planned out a whole message to type out to him. You’d ask him for another lesson and see if he had any time. You’d be kind of putting yourself out there but Harry had been so nice and it was so good with him you hadn’t stopped thinking about that night.

But there was already a message from Harry waiting for you when you picked up your phone.

H: I think you should come over again. You didn’t get what you needed from him and I’ll happily make up for it. Show you what it’s supposed to be like.

You laid your phone down on your sink counter and grinned, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. Because yes! Yes, you’d go to his and let him take care of you. God, you’d love to give him another blow job too.

Only if you want. When were you thinking?

His response came faster than you expected.

H: Are you free tonight? Say 6 or so?

You weren’t technically free. You needed to finish your paper but fuck it. Harry would be worth a rushed final product.

That works for me : )

You met him at Maud’s like the first time. Only this time you bought his tea and a sandwich for him. He told you it wasn’t necessary but you felt like it was the least you could do. You walked back to his apartment together and told him about your paper that was due and he talked about his thesis. Harry was an interesting person. He wasn’t just eye candy, he had real depth. And he was kind.

“So why don’t you have a T.V.?” You asked as you sat on his couch and he plopped down next to you, drawing his arm over your shoulder.

“No time really. I’m telling you, I am almost always studying and doing coursework. Used to have one but it was too much of a distraction.”

You laughed, “And this isn’t a distraction?” You motioned your hand between yourself and Harry.

He shifted his seating and his hand moved from your shoulder to the side of your neck as he gently pulled at you, “Oh it’s a distraction all right. But this is the kind that’s worth it. Television has never been worth missing out on a good study sesh,” he laughed and you laid your palm on his chest.

“Well, I hope it’s worth it. Don’t feel like I’m all that amazing. Kind of ju–“

Your words were abruptly cut off with his mouth over yours. You let out a surprised squeak and Harry laughed against your lips, “Sorry… just want you, Y/n…”

You were a goner. You had never felt so sexy in your life as in that moment. Harry seemed quite ravenous and you didn’t know if it was because he was just horny in general or if it was because of you but the way he was licking at your mouth and touching your hip and moaning it felt a lot like he was simply into you. At least that’s what you were going to believe.

He got you into his bed again, your pants and sweater on the floor as he kissed your tummy. Your head was spinning, “Your lesson today,” he spoke between soft pecks over your skin, “Is to see how special you are. How you deserve to feel good. To be with someone who’s going to worship you…”

He hadn’t even touched your clit and it was already throbbing under your cotton panties. The man knew just what to say and you couldn’t help but melt into his mattress and moan his name.

You didn’t have much experience. But you knew one thing and that was that Harry was really really good. He pulled an orgasm from you like an expert, fingers tucked deep into your pussy with his tongue and lips sliding expertly over your sensitive clit. You could hardly even remember getting your clothes off but you didn’t forget his words as he pushed your thighs apart and nosed at your pussy, “So sweet, honey,” he looked up at you, “Can I call you honey?”

Honey. You didn’t mind. Of course not. He could call you whatever he wanted.

And when you finally came down from your orgasm, you shivered as he kept sucking on your clit. You tried pushing at his forehead and he hardly budged as he lifted his mouth from your pussy, “Relax. One more okay? Give me one more, honey?”

Fuck. You were not sure how you were going to survive this man.

When you were panting and sweating after your second orgasm Harry laid next to you and kissed your neck and told you how sweet and perfect you were. You tried returning the favor but he just shook his head and pulled your hand away from his obvious erection to kiss your knuckles, “This wasn’t about me tonight. Just for you, okay? I’m fine. Took care of myself before you came over anyway.”

“But you’re hard…”

“And I promise you that I’m fine. You deserve to be taken care of, Y/n. Don’t like how you’ve been neglected. Want you to just get what you need tonight.”

You stayed at Harry’s for another couple of hours. Just talking and laughing. It was like you two had always known one another. You learned a little about his childhood and you told him about yours. He was sweet and easy to talk to and you loved how he kept holding your hand and pinching your bottom lip as you’d talk. And when it was time to go he called you an Uber again, to which you protested, telling him that was unnecessary.

“It’s absolutely necessary. Don’t want anything to happen to you and this way I can watch the route and make sure you get where you need to go.”

It was like you were another person for the next week and a half. You were feeling quite confident and you ignored Gunther’s text to “hang out”. Harry made you feel like you deserved more. Even if you’d never have anything serious with Harry, he sure made you feel special.

But one night when you and your roommate were hanging out at a sorority house, you overheard something that made your stomach turn.

“You stayed the whole night?”

“Yep. He asked me to. Fucked me so good I almost couldn’t walk and he’s just so nice… I kind of thought he’d have me leave but he said he wanted to make sure I was okay.”

“What’s he like?”

“Well, everything about him is just…” the girl grinned and bit her lip with that dreamy, faraway look in her eye, “He’s so hot up close too. His body… holy shit, you should see this man’s body! But his dick… when I felt that thing inside of me, I was a dickmatized. He’s big and it’s just… perfect. But it’s not just that he’s got a big cock, he’s like… super nice and just knows how to orchestrate the whole experience. Talked me through it all, it was so sexy, and he knows what he’s doing.”

“And you’re gonna ask for another session?”

The girl nods, “Oh yeah. I already did. Well, the morning when I left he fucked me again and then ate me out and told me to call him if I ever needed anything. So I obviously called him…”

Harry wasn’t your boyfriend. He was a single man who had a reputation. He was known for this very thing. So why did it bother you? Why did it make you feel nauseated and jealous? You didn’t even get to have full-on sex with him. It was just oral sex both times, but it felt like you missed out in a way, not having the opportunity to have him like that. But perhaps it was better that you hadn’t had actual sex. Because your wandering thoughts and feelings were betraying your good senses. Images in your brain of you and Harry being a couple were silly. That was never going to happen. Maybe continuing to see Harry would be a bad idea after all. You were already feeling things for him that you shouldn’t be.

And, so, when Gunther called you again the day after you heard that story you decided to answer the call and give him yet another chance. He asked for another “date”. But this time you told him you wanted to actually go out somewhere first. Like on a real date. Maybe a change of scenery would be nice. Maybe the third time would be the charm, as they say. Perhaps if you gave him one more shot he’d redeem himself. Maybe you’d finally get what you were looking for all along.

So there you both were on a Saturday night at the bar with house music playing. You were readying yourself for another round of disappointment and being left unsatisfied when he refused to dance with you. The bar you two had gone to had a DJ every Saturday night and you thought it could be fun to have a couple of drinks, eat some bar food, and dance a bit. But Gunther didn’t want to get up off his stool and he went way beyond just a couple of drinks. You weren’t sure how many he had at that point but it had become clear that he just wanted to drink and get back to his room so he could get his dick sucked and send you on your way.

This time, however, there would be no blow job. You had already decided on Ubering back to your dorm alone afterward. You just had to figure out how to break it to Gunther first.

.           .

Harry had been wondering about you since the last time he saw you. The nervous pretty girl who wound up being quite the breath of fresh air for him. He didn’t expect you to call him for another session but he kind of hoped you would. Or at least just a text to hang out. The last night he had you at his place he felt like you were an old friend. A hot friend who he wanted to bang, but a friend, someone he felt comfortable with who he could talk to all night. He was surprised at how easily the conversation flowed with you. And so it was kind of disappointing when you didn’t reach out to him again. He felt like maybe you weren’t that into him.

He even wound up having to cancel on someone he’d made plans with. He wasn’t sure he was ready to look at anyone else naked. He needed time to get his head on straight. Which just meant he was concerned he’d be thinking about you while he was with someone else. And that was something he refused to do with anyone; think about one person while being with another.

And now it was almost two weeks later and he was still thinking about you. Kept wanting to text you to ask how you were. To see if you wanted to just hang out. He figured if you wanted more you’d reach out. He didn’t want to assume you felt whatever it was he felt. He wasn’t even quite sure what he was feeling.

So when his friend invited him to go out for a few drinks he thought it would be a good opportunity to get his mind off of you so he decided why not? He didn’t often go out to drink. He didn’t have time for it, truth be told. But his buddy wanted to celebrate landing a big job and Harry said he could only hang out for a couple of hours because he had to be up early the following morning to study but he could use a couple of hours away from schoolwork to let loose a bit.

The bar was packed and the room was loud with music and an open dancefloor where people were dancing and flirting. He figured he’d go out and dance for a song or two after a couple of beers and then call it a night. As he was on his second pint he gazed around at the tables with girls in their short dresses and guys trying their hardest to impress and that’s when he spotted you. He felt his heart float up into his throat and then he narrowed in his sight to see who you were with. Gunther.

Harry had looked up this Gunther guy. He was easy to find. He was following you on Instagram and being that there weren’t many called Gunther he knew right away it was him. Why did he look him up? It was just another thing that had Harry a bit perplexed. Being someone on the path to becoming a sex therapist, one would think Harry had more of an idea of what was going on in his own head. But maybe it was more just a matter of whether or not he was ready to admit what he was feeling.

You appeared bored. Annoyed maybe. You had your chin propped in your hand and you were swirling your drink with a straw. Your eyes were focused on the dance floor and Gunther was looking a bit tipsy. He was staring at his phone. If Harry were there with you he’d have his whole attention on you. He wouldn’t even be thinking about his phone. Hell, he had his whole attention on you now and he wasn’t even there with you.

He wondered what it was you saw in Gunther. He knew the man wasn’t doing it for you. He could just see it in your posture. If you had been well fucked, or at least satisfied on some level, and given the attention you deserved your demeanor would have been different. Harry could do that for you. He’d seen how you responded to a good orgasm and how relaxed and confident you got when you were satisfied.

When he saw you sip the last of your drink and say something to your date, who didn’t even so much as give you a glance, you got up and made your way to the dancefloor when the new song came on.

Watching you sway and dance alone had Harry’s heart rhythm increasing. Your dress was riding up your legs and you had your arms raised and your eyes closed. It was clear you were just trying to enjoy your time whether or not Gunther was. He was glad you were dancing and doing your own thing.

“Who’s the girl?” Harry’s friend asked as two more guys joined them at the table.

“Y/n. A friend.”

“I bet. You gonna go be her friend again tonight?” Paul’s elbow teasingly poked at Harry’s arm.

Harry nodded, “You know what? Maybe I will. Looks like she could use some company.”

Leaving his beer behind at the table with his mates Harry scanned his eyes back towards Gunther who was still enmeshed in whatever was on his cell phone’s screen. He couldn’t believe the guy wasn’t watching you dance. You were a sight.

Harry wound his way through the crowd before he got close enough that he could get your attention. But your eyes were still closed as you sensually moved your hips and swayed to the beat. He began to dance, only a few feet in front of you as he watched you move and feel the music. He stepped in closer, glimpsing down over the skin on your neck and up to how your lips were slightly parted, a bit of sweat building at your brow line.

And when you finally opened your eyes to see the very man you’d had on your mind it came as quite the surprise. You blinked your lashes at him as he grinned down at you, “Harry?”

Your smile stretched over your face as you continued letting the music guide your movements and he took your hand, gently pulling you closer to breach the space between you, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you gazed up at him like you were in a dream. Was he really here? “What are you doing here?”

He laughed and moved his hand to your hip, “Came out with some friends,” he glanced toward the table where Gunther was still laser-focused on his phone, “I see you’ve come with someone as well.”

You followed his gaze and then looked back up at him, “Yeah. Was trying to give him one more shot.”

Harry’s big hand had a firm grip on your hip as you both moved away from the sight of Gunther, still dancing, “One more shot? You think he’s worth it?”

Shaking your head you laid your palm over his chest, “I don’t know. Just wanted to see.”

Harry let out a laugh and shook his head, “You think he’s gonna satisfy you? Or you think you’ll be left wanting once again?”

You felt your face warm up as you shook your head no and shrugged.

“Then why are you here with him, Y/n?”

You shrugged again and looked down at the collar of his shirt, “Just wanted to see if a night out would make it better.”

Harry pulled his free hand around the back of your hip and ducked his head down to your line of sight, “And look at him over there. Not paying you the attention you deserve. If it were me I’d be out here dancing with you and showing you off to everyone.”

You laughed, that smile he was searching for back on your face again, “You are technically out here dancing with me.”

“See? I say what I mean. You’re too special to waste your night with him. You planning on leaving here with him after?”

“Don’t think so. I mean look at him… he doesn’t care if I’m here or not. He probably just wants his blow job and he’s suffering through all this just to get his balls drained,” you laughed and covered your mouth with your free hand. You didn’t know what’d gotten into you saying that but you didn’t regret it when Harry let out a loud guffaw.

“It’s cause you’re so good, Y/n,” Harry ran his hand up your spine to wrap his fingers along the back of your neck, and he ducked his mouth close to your ear to speak, “You know that right? How good you are? Got me all flustered right now thinking about it. Don’t go back with him. He’s not worth it.”

Your eyes fluttered when you felt his warm breath on your ear and down your neck. You loved what he was saying to you but you also knew he was probably just being nice. Like he was to everyone. Like he had been to that girl he let stay over after you. While you were pining over him he was fucking another.

Not that you had any right to be jealous. There were no strings in this relationship.

“I think I’ll just get an Uber back to my place. That’s what I was planning anyway,” you turned in to respond to him.

Harry moved you to the rhythm slowly and the feel of his hands on you was exciting. But you didn’t want to get caught up in how it all felt because you knew you’d just get attached to him. He was so nice and so good and being with him had you feeling like you were special to him. Though, you knew the truth. You were just like everyone else.

Except that every time you looked into his eyes it was deep and there was a well of emotion or something that couldn’t just mean nothing. But maybe that was just you being the silly optimist that you were.

“Can’t believe he didn’t give you anything,” his gaze seared over your face, “Can’t believe he wouldn’t want to.”

You felt his hand gently squeeze the back of your neck and his heart was pumping healthily under your palm. He ducked down again, his voice vibrating off the shell of your ear and the heat of his body enveloping yours, “He’s missing out because you’re so sweet. Feel lucky I got to taste you and he never has. Might sound selfish but I hope you don’t let him.”

You panted when his lips grazed over your earlobe and then he planted a hot kiss to the skin just underneath, “Let me have you again. Come back to mine and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Want to taste you and feel, Y/n. Missed you…”

Your brain was blurry as he smudged his lips down your neck. Your skin pricked in delight at the cool air that hit every damp spot left behind by his mouth.

“What the fuck?”

Your little bubble burst when you heard Gunther’s voice. Harry kept his arm around your low back, continuing to hold you close.

“Dude… what is this?”

“It’s… Gunther this is Har–“

“I don’t care who he is. Why is he dancing with you and kissing you?”

“That’s a good question,” Harry responded, “You should have been out here with her but you were too interested in your phone to notice that someone else was enjoying her company and paying attention to her like she deserves.”

Gunther laughed and stumbled forward, trying to pry Harry’s hand from your waist, “Come on…”

“Go home, Gunther,” Harry moved you behind his back and stood tall to look down on your date.

Gunther looked at you, dumbfounded, “Is this guy for real?”

You nodded and grabbed onto Harry’s arm, “Yeah. You should leave and get some rest. I think you’ve had too much to drink. I’m sorry–“

“Don’t apologize to him. He should have been acting like your date.”

“So, you’re not coming back to my room with me? My roommate’s out all night, Y/n…”

Shaking your head you stepped next to Harry, “No. I’m not. I think I’m just gonna go home myself–“

Harry looked down at you, “You sure you want to go home?”

“Fine. This was a lame date, anyway,” Gunther laughed and pointed at you, “Don’t call me again.”

Rolling your eyes as your date walked off you looked back up at Harry who was still looking down at you with a confused expression, “You really don’t want to come with me?”

You swallowed and let go of his arm, “It’s not that… It’s just kind of complicated and a mess of things I don’t want to explain…”

Harry took your hand, “Try me.”

You shook your head as you both moved away from the crowd of swaying bodies, “This isn’t a therapy session, Harry. I have real feelings and I’m not cut out for casual like some people.”

He followed you toward your table where you had left your purse. You wanted to make sure you got it before anyone else did.

“What does that mean, Y/n? Talk to me.”

When you pulled your purse over your shoulder you shrugged as you looked up at him, “Come on Harry. You know what I mean. You and I are in different leagues. You are having fun and sleeping with all these people, which you’re totally allowed to do! And I barely have any experience and was even so desperate that I went out with Gunther again in hopes of some kind of connection–“

“Hey,” Harry softly grabbed your face and let the pads of his thumbs graze over your cheekbones, “You and me have a connection. And there are no leagues, Y/n… that’s something made up.”

You puffed out a laugh but you really wanted to melt into him, at his soft touch, “But we’re looking for different things, Harry. And that’s fine, really… I should go…” You began to walk toward the exit and Harry followed you out the doors.

The silence and the darkness outside were only tempered by the streetlights with the noise of a car passing and the bass of the music coming from inside the bar you’d just walked out of.

“I hope you don’t think I took your company for granted, Y/n. I really, genuinely like you. Haven’t stopped thinking about you since our last night together.”

You nodded with a faint smile, “That’s nice to hear. I know you’re a super nice guy, Harry. And I hope this doesn’t sound rude or anything… but it’s just hard for me to really believe you were thinking much of me afterward. I imagine you stay booked and busy.”

Harry’s brows stitched together, “Booked and busy? I don’t just have lots of girls over all the time, Y/n. I am a busy man though. I’m in my coursework program and working on my thesis. I’m not just fucking around all the time. Haven’t had anyone over since you, actually.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “No? What about a pretty blond who stayed the night with you? I’m guessing it was last week?”

He shook his head, “Had no one over last week.”

“Really?” You looked down at the concrete sidewalk and wondered if you’d gotten it wrong. You swore it sounded like she had just seen him the way she was talking.

Harry pulled your hand into his, “You’re the last girl I had over. Was supposed to see someone the other day but I canceled. Wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

You sighed, “I mean… obviously you can do what you want and see who you please. I’m just… my point is that I’m worried about getting attached. You’re good at casual and I’m not. So… seeing you again might be fine for you but for me, it holds so much more meaning. It’s just how I’m programmed. I can’t help it.”

He nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t know why that little confession had his heart twisting, “I see. So you wouldn’t want to see me again then?”

“It’s not that I wouldn’t want to. I think you’re fun and we had a really good time but I don’t know if I can handle being one of the many. When I overheard someone talking about sleeping with you…” you shook your head, “I was sick to my stomach even though I have no right to feel that way. Does that make sense? And I’m not like saying,” you gestured your arms about, “… that I’m already attached or anything. It’s just I am not cut out for being with someone who’s also sleeping with others. So it’s better to cut our losses. My losses… before I actually get hurt.”

Harry could understand that. He’d dealt with this before. Girls getting jealous of other girls. And so then at that point, it was time to part ways as amicably as possible. Because Harry was a single man and not ready for commitments like that. His only commitments were finishing his thesis, getting his doctorate, and working toward opening his own practice one day. That was where his heart was. Not with any one girl who might come along. Perhaps one day he’d settle down. After he met all his life’s goals first.

But looking at you and your pretty eyes, the ones that had him in a trance, the ones he couldn’t stop thinking about that had him canceling on another girl… well he was quite torn. He didn’t know what he was feeling exactly. All he knew was that he had a plan, a path he’d forged and would continue on until he got what he wanted. And never in that plan did he imagine meeting someone along the way who could disrupt any part of that.

“I wish you’d reconsider.”

You shook your head as you looked at his soft green irises, wondering if that would be the last time you’d get to see them up close. You wanted to repeat his words to him. I wish you’d reconsider. Because that’s what it would take. You couldn’t do casual and you’d drive yourself mad knowing he was sleeping with others. There was nothing wrong with Harry. In fact he was quite astonishing and impressive. But that would only make the eventual parting even worse for you and so you figured it was better this way. It would be nice to have him again but you’d just be falling deeper into that hole. You knew yourself all too well.

Your Uber had arrived and you smiled up at Harry, “I can’t. I found myself thinking about you too much and just imagining how it’d be if we did more… I’d really be a mess. But truly, you’ve been so great, Harry. I wish you all the best.”

You climbed into the back of the black Toyota and Harry thought he should stop you. He thought he should climb in after you and tell you that you were making a mistake. That he really didn’t know what he was doing but he couldn’t just let you leave like that. He could figure it out if he did it with you.

But God, what was he thinking? Why would he do that? He didn’t know you well enough to be making such big decisions that could derail the very rigid plans he’d already made for himself. So he let you go. He watched as the car took you down the street until you were out of sight completely and he felt like something was missing. For the first time ever there was a pit in his gut, an obstruction that had him faltering. Had he just fucked up? Or had he done something that was for the better?

He honestly didn’t know.

.           .           .

The university you attended was like a small town. Thousands of people attended classes and milled about the campus every day. And despite how many people there were gossip was quickly and easily spread. It shouldn’t have surprised you because if there was one thing a college girly was good at, it was gossiping and learning more details about gossip they heard. And who happened to be one of the most talked about grad students on campus? To your utter dismay, the name of one of the most popular and attractive guys at university was Harry Styles. You’d never paid much attention to it before you met him. But now every time his name came up you were all ears.

Now you didn’t go believing all the things you heard in general. Most gossip was easy enough to ignore or brush off as inconsequential or probably a downright lie. But your ears did perk up when you were at a frat party and you heard Harry’s name mentioned. And the only reason you even heard it was because your roommate was chatting with a girl who was talking about him.

“Yeah, I guess Harry’s been seeing people but not doing anything with them. Like he brings them to his place or whatever and then he just freezes and apologizes but Lora said, and I’m just saying what I heard from her, that he really liked some chick and she didn’t want to see him again and he can’t get over her or something?”

“That’s interesting. I heard he canceled on someone a month ago- Amy’s friend who hung out with him once. So maybe this has been going on since then?”

Your roommate turned to look at you, narrowing her eyes and you knew what she was thinking. But even if the part about him being upset over some “chick” was true, certainly that had nothing to do with you.

“I heard the same thing,” another girl chimed in, “My brother is in a class with him and he said Harry’s been kind of down I guess.”

“Your brother takes note of his mood?” One of the girls laughed.

“Oh yeah. Only because I ask about him. When I found out he had a class with Harry I was like tell me everything!” She laughed.

You had a feeling that most of what you were hearing was false. Harry was so confident and just having a good time you couldn’t imagine he’d freeze up around anyone like that.

As the night went on, the frat house became packed with people. Dancing bodies, music, drugs, alcohol, hookups… You were there for the dancing and alcohol part. Your roommate had her eye on the debate team champ, Alex, and was hoping to get lucky finally (they’d been kind of playing a cat-and-mouse game that she was ready to finish once and for all).

You kept your drink in hand the whole time. Only refilling when necessary and trying not to get too wasted. That was never cute and it was also dangerous. But you loved dancing and letting loose with others who were just as bad at dancing as you were. It was fun to not worry about what you looked like because no one really cared.

Except that when you heard Gunther’s voice from behind you and felt his sticky hand on your arm you wanted to vomit, “Look so good, Y/n…”

He was drunk. His voice was slurred and you were annoyed at his presence. You pulled away from him but being the nice girl you were you smiled and made small talk for a bit as you kept moving your hips to the music.

“Come back to my room again tonight. Miss this mouth,” he plucked at your lip and you swatted his hand away, the smile on your face dropping instantly. No more nice girl.

“No thanks.” You turned to leave the area where everyone was dancing to get away but he followed behind.

“Oh, come on. You love sucking me off. You’re so good at it too.”

Finally. A compliment. But of course, it was too little too late and certainly not the time nor the place for such words. Besides, you were no longer attracted to him, and no matter what angle he tried it wasn’t going to work.

“Go away, Gunther!” You suddenly snapped at him and he stopped mid-stride and looked at you like you had two heads with horns.

He lifted his hands in surrender, “Okay. Fine. Jesus.”

You turned to make your way to the kitchen for a refill when you saw something that made your heart drop and your stomach bubble in gross shock. It was Harry Styles dancing slowly behind some cute girl, his arms wrapped around her front, leaning down to her shorter height and he was kissing the side of her neck.

Your Harry. The one who had you all gooey and giddy after that “session”. The one who kissed your neck not that long ago. You wished he was dancing behind you like that. You wished you hadn’t been so sensitive and that you could throw caution to the wind and not care that he was sleeping with others. You wished you could have just given in that night at the bar and gone back to his… But you said no to him. And now here he was with someone else.

You gulped and turned to go to the bathroom instead, Gunther still eyeing you up from the spot where you’d left him.

You stayed in the bathroom for a bit. Not wanting to go out and see Harry and the cute brunette dancing. You knew she was in for a treat later on. But that should have been you. Pouting at yourself in the mirror you felt ridiculous. You knew what it was with Harry. That he was a free and single man and could do as he pleased. You really had no right to feel upset over what you’d seen. He’d done nothing wrong.

Dumping out the last bit of your drink in the sink you figured maybe it was just time to leave. You didn’t want to have to deal with Gunther nor did you feel like seeing Harry all over someone else. Perhaps tonight was just not going to be your night.

As you opened the bathroom door a figure stood in the way and your immediate thought was that Gunther had followed you but as you trailed your eyes upward it was clear the man was taller and you didn’t miss the nail polish on his fingers when he gripped the door. Everything stopped. The music, the air around your body, your heart…

“Y/n…” That deep voice spoke your name like it belonged on his tongue.

You looked up at him, removing your hand from the doorknob, and gave him a confused smile, “Hi Harry. What are you doing?”

He seemed off. Not drunk but maybe not quite sober either? You weren’t sure what to make of his behavior as he pulled the door open and stepped into the bathroom, closing it behind himself.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he stepped in toward you, your bottom hitting the edge of the porcelain sink, “Nothing makes sense lately. Just want to go back to how things were but I can’t. S’like I’ve got some kind of block. Something’s missing…”

You shook your head, not really understanding what he was talking about as he continued.

“I don’t know what’s going on in my head. Are you really still with Gunther?” He looked hurt. Wounded almost.

“No. After that night at the bar, I haven’t talked to him. He just happened to be here.” “You were dancing with him.”

“Well, not really. I was dancing and then he came up behind me. I was just being nice talking to him but then he said something and…” you scoffed, “Why does it matter? You were dancing with someone else. And you were all over her. You should be out there with her enjoying yourself, Harry.”

“Can’t. Haven’t been able to enjoy anyone. Don’t want to anymore. Every time I do this now I just… can’t.”

“But you were. You were kissing her neck, having fun. Looked quite cozied up to her, Harry. I imagine she’s waiting for you to return right now.”

“I mean I can’t lie to myself anymore. I’ve been kidding myself. I can never go through with it. I don’t want her. That was just a show. When I saw you with him… it’s dumb. I don’t know what I’m doing, Y/n.”

You sighed and scanned his face. He did seem down, “So why are you here in the bathroom with me? Did you want to talk to me? Is there something I can do?”

Truly you were racking your brain trying to figure out why he was there and why he was telling you everything he was. Now you weren’t a dumb girl, but you would never have assumed what he was about to tell you in his next breath.

“Yes. There is something…” he swallowed, his soft green irises fixed on your mouth, “Can you kiss me? Just once more. I just need to see something with you. Is that okay?”

You felt dizzy. Felt confused. Felt your breaths shallow as he looked back into your eyes, “What? I don’t understand. Why?”

Harry softly brushed his knuckles against yours, “Because I can’t stop thinking about you and every time I try to see someone I just see you. And it’s driving me mad and I don’t understand it really but I just need to know something and I think if I could kiss you maybe it would help clear up the fog in my brain.”

“The fog…” you whispered the words back to him and felt his fingertips against yours. And it was suddenly clear to you what he was saying. You were the one who had him all messed up. The “chick” he couldn’t get over. You didn’t know how it was possible or why but it was and he was begging you with his eyes and his fingertips. The heat of him standing only inches away from you was beckoning you to give in.  

When you wound your fingers through his and gently pulled him closer, your lashes fluttering up at him, you saw a light in his eyes, a sparkle of something like wonder and hope and relief. The strange nervous, tense energy you spotted when he first walked into the bathroom with you was suddenly gone.

He brought a hand up to your face, his long fingers curving around to the back of your neck, “It’s okay? I can kiss you, Y/n?”

“Yes. It’s okay, Harry.”

Closing his eyes, a shaky breath fell from his mouth as he relieved his lungs of the pressure in his chest and you braced yourself for his lips on yours but it wasn’t at all what you expected. It wasn’t rushed or filled with filth and lust. It wasn’t slobbery with an excited tongue finding its way into your mouth or teeth colliding in haste.

No. It was filled with warmth and it was soft, slow. He pressed his lips to yours and ran his thumb gently over your cheekbone, inhaling deeply. He squeezed your hand and lulled his lips up and down to the edge of your mouth and delicately swiped his tongue over your bottom lip. The warmth created embers as you parted your lips and ran your tongue against his and your heart lobbed in your chest at the emotion and the meaning you felt pouring from him.

He refused to rush the kiss, slowly opening and closing his lips against and around yours, softly licking and breathing and touching your face and your hand. And when you let out a small whimper the embers caught on fire and his hips were against yours and the fingers at the back of your neck held your face against his as he worshipped your mouth and you felt his nose nudge into yours before he gasped and spoke, keeping his eyes closed, “It’s you. It’s what I want. All I want. I knew it.”

You blinked your eyes open and cupped his jaw, “Harry… what do you mean?”

With his eyes still shut he sighed, “I just mean it’s you that I can’t move on from. I can’t describe it right now but you’ve done something to me and I need more of it.”

In most circumstances, those words would be music to your ears. But you were terrified of getting hurt. Terrified that he was just confused and if you entertained whatever this was he’d realize it wasn’t all that deep and he’d go back to his “tutoring”. Because he had said that when he first got into the bathroom with you. That he just wanted things to go back to how they were. And if you were just a means to an end, well, you didn’t want to be part of that, for your own sake.

“So you’re hoping that now things can go back to how they were before me? Yeah?”

Harry’s eyes opened and he looked down at you, shaking his head, “No. They can’t. I can’t. That kiss, Y/n… Was exactly what I thought. Can we get out of here? Go somewhere and talk?”

He was convincing. How could he not be? His irises were brighter and greener than they were before you kissed him and the thumb he smoothed over your jaw and to your earlobe had you melting, relenting. So you nodded to him and said your goodbyes to the two friends you arrived at the party with, following him outside, keeping your hand in his the whole time.

Your dorm room was closer so you decided to go there and it was like you were walking through a scene in some surreal movie that you couldn’t wait to find out what the ending was going to be. But before you could even get to your dorm, Harry had you against the wall at the art building, and the rush and the lust that you hadn’t quite gotten earlier in the bathroom was suddenly burning all around you.

Wet lips and hasty, shaky hands, hips pasted together away from the streetlamp that illuminated the sidewalk only feet from you… A heart-racing blur. Nipped lips and stifled moans, heaving chests…

And then a hurry to get to your building and find your way up to your room before the dizzy haze of Harry enveloped you again and it was all-consuming. You couldn’t peel yourself away from him and his lips found your neck and your skin and you pushed your hand under his shirt to touch his warm chest.

But he parted from you with a gasp, his chest rising and falling so rapidly his lungs were likely struggling to keep up.

“I’m sorry. That… Y/n I just really really like you.”

Pulling your hand from his chest you nodded at him and shifted on your bed so you could sit to your bottom next to him, “I like you too, Harry.” Obviously.

He ran a hand through his hair and nodded as he looked down at his lap and then dragged your hand over his thigh, sliding his fingers between yours, “I mean I want to be with you. I can’t even think about anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”

You watched as Harry drew his fingers over your knuckles and between your digits then pressed his palm against yours.

“But… so you don’t want to like have what you had before? Like all the girls and the… you know,” you breathed out a laugh that was full of nerves, “The sessions? Weren’t you just having fun?”

He shook his head and turned to look at you, “It was fun. But it wound up just being kind of empty after a bit. Didn’t really get what I was looking for. I mean at first, I didn’t even know what I was looking for. But you know how you said you gave Gunther one last shot because you were hoping for some kind of connection?”

You nodded as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering where he was going with all of it. Was he really about to say what you thought he was?

“I realized that’s what I was looking for. And you… Y/n there’s just this thing with you. I never connected with someone like that before. I never felt so… I can’t like describe…” he paused as he collected his thoughts, “Breathless? Or like… achy here,” he lifted a hand to his chest over his heart, “It’s this stinging dread, just a hopeless feeling. I never cared if someone didn’t want to see me again. But I cared a lot when you didn’t want to. It hurt.”

Those were the kinds of feelings you felt when you liked someone who didn’t like you back. It was that exact description that you were worried about with Harry. You were worried you’d feel all that and then he’d be with someone else the next week. It was for fear of that very thing. But he was feeling it. That devastation.

“I understand exactly. That’s why I didn’t want to see you again. Because I was worried I’d start to feel that too. And it hurts so much that it was easier to part ways before it got to that point. So I get it.”

“I don’t want to do it anymore. With anyone else. I’m done. And I’m so close to what I want… my degree. So I thought it was too much to focus on just one person but I think I was wrong. It’s a lot of work having people come and go. Maybe it’s better to just have someone I can trust and someone who’s there for me. Just one person who I feel a real connection with.”

You swallowed the lump down your throat and your tummy was in knots. It truly did feel like you were in a surreal movie scene all dreamy and untidy with bursts of vivid colors and soft stringed music slowly intensifying as the minutes drew on.

“Would you want that with me? To see what happens? I’m not saying it would be like a fairytale or anything but like… just a normal relationship. Get to figure out what this is between us and learn about each other. Just the two of us.”

“So, me and you?”

“Yeah. Me and you. Not something casual. I’d only want to see you.”

You hadn’t imagined your night going in this direction and it still felt like you were about to have a director enter your room and yell cut! It didn’t quite feel real but it was. Harry was sitting next to you on your bed with his hypnotizing bright green eyes on you, caressing your fingers and your palm with his.

“Okay. Yeah,” you breathed out your words and Harry’s pink lips turned upward in a boyish smile complete with adorable dimples and you couldn’t help but return the expression but it only lasted for a second or two before his lips were pressed against yours again.

Everything about him was intoxicating. His body against yours, his hands on your face and squeezing your hip as he laid you both down in your small bed. You wrapped your arms around him as he ran his tongue over the seam of your lips and it turned into something dirty and desperate, your hands grabbing at him and his fingers trailing under your shirt.

He squeezed at your bum, your jeans blocking him from feeling you unencumbered and then he parted from the kiss, his hair all wild and strewn about from your fingers, “Can we do this here? Is your roommate coming back?”

You looked at the clock on the table at the side of the room and it was well past 2 in the morning. You honestly weren’t sure if she was coming back but you knew she had hopes of going back to Alex’s place. But you also didn’t care. At least not in that moment with Harry right there with you, his scent all over your body, his jeans unzipped, and his shoes somewhere in your room.

“I don’t know. She might be out all night. Just… If she comes back we’ll cover up,” you laughed. You had once again lost your mind. Harry seemed to have you in some lusty trance you couldn’t break. Didn’t want to break.

Harry ducked down to kiss your neck as he fit himself between your legs, the bed squeaking under the sudden shift of weight. You could feel his open pants against your hip. You’d gotten a bit carried away when you were making out and undid them for him, to which he laughed but didn’t stop you. And now, that convenient thing was seductively calling to you as you reached your hand down to push at his pants.

“In a hurry are we?” He looked down at your hand and then at your face.

“Not really. I don’t know. I just want… you.”

Harry’s lids were heavy as he blinked his eyes, “Well you can have me. Whatever you want.”

He pressed the tip of his nose to yours before smearing his mouth against your lips and your fingers were back in his hair once again. Slow and luxurious. Hasty and filthy… Harry kissed you like he didn’t know which way was best. But you were getting fired up from the way he was doing it. You didn’t care, you just wanted it. Wanted his mouth and his tongue, his hands and his body, his moans and his hair between your fingers.

You were hot. Molten underneath him. Your panties were ruined and you were sure he knew what he was doing. Your mind wandered to where you’d put your condoms and then you felt his hands on your hip as he slowly began to slide your shirt upward.

He sat back, plucking at the front of his pants, and then put his hands back on your waist, “Can I get this off? All of it?”

You nodded and grinned with your lip bitten into your mouth as Harry got rid of your t-shirt and then unbuttoned your pants, “You too. Can we get your clothes off too?” You spoke as you lifted your hips and let him peel your jeans down your legs.

Harry grinned at you, “Absolutely. You already did part of the work here anyway,” he laughed as he gestured toward his unzipped pants.

Harry was left in his boxer briefs when the last thing you had to get rid of was your light blue panties. But Harry seemed quite transfixed by the wet spot on the fabric over your pussy. You were so wet the whole of the crotch was clinging to you, outlining what was underneath and Harry slid his thumb over the top of the material and parted his lip before looking up your face, “Fuck.”

You panted softly when he bumped into your clit and pressed over the slick spot, “Does that feel good, Y/n?”

You nodded, “Yeah. That feels good…”

“So warm and wet for me,” he drew his hand up to the elastic waistband and pulled it downward, “Gonna take a closer look. S’that alright?”

You were full of nothing but yes as you knocked your head up and down affirmatively and bounced your gaze from his eyes to where he was disrobing the last bit of material covering you.

He pushed out a quick succession of what sounded like a breathy whistle as he took you in with his eyes, his fingertips holding the soft, mushy part of your inner thighs so you stayed spread, “Fuck. Fuck, honey…” he licked his lips and looked up at you as he ran his thumb through your folds, “Can I have some of this again? Taste…”

He sounded almost as delirious as you felt. Taste… eat… suck… fuck… whatever he wanted. You nodded, “Yes, Harry.”

He leaned over your body, pressing his chest against yours, and kissed your mouth before dragging his lips down your neck and to your tits, stopping to suck and lick each one before he drew his hot mouth downward, sponging kisses over your tummy and to your hips.

Your legs were brought up to drape over his shoulders as he held onto your thighs and then watched you as he licked up from your gushy hole to your clit.

The sounds that fell from your mouth were pitiful. You had an ache that needed to be relieved and it seemed only Harry could do it. Every swipe of his tongue through your crease had you slipping toward the edge of the earth, “Harry…”

You did your best to keep your eyes on his, knowing that’s what he liked but you couldn’t help throwing your head back every time he sucked your clit and rolled it under his tongue. He was better than your clit sucker. He was better than anything or anyone else.

“Mmmm…” your attempt at stifling your moans only goaded Harry even more. He drew his lips over your clit and slid them side to side and the pressure that was building in your tummy had you shaking.

“Will you…” you gasped and pulled at his hair, “Can we have sex?”

You had an immediate urge. A need to feel him closer. Wanted him inside of you right then.

Harry lifted his face from your pussy and licked his lips, “You sure? You’ve had sex before, yeah?”

You laughed and let go of his curls with a nod, “Just with one person. I’m not very good.”

“I’m sure you’re amazing, Y/n,” he sat back, gently placing your legs down and you pushed yourself to sit up.

“I don’t know,” you grinned at him and ran your foot over his thigh, “Maybe you could give me a proper lesson. Think I need tutoring.”

Harry wrapped his palm around your ankle and shot a cheeky eyebrow up, “Oh you need tutoring, do you? Well, you didn’t sign up for a lesson with me. Think you’re just gonna get a freebie?” He laughed.

You shrugged as he lifted himself and began to pull his boxer briefs down his hips. Your eyes focused on his big cock. You couldn’t wait to see what’d feel like inside of you. You were positive he’d be gentle and give it to you good.

“So what are you saying? You charge for your services now?”

Harry pursed his lips to the side and smoothed his hands up your calves, “Teaching is hard work, Y/n.”

“I bet. How about just one last lesson? For me?” You bit your lip, rounding your eyes at him.

“Fine. Just for you.”

“Condoms are in the top drawer,” you pointed to your dresser, “Never been opened.”

He began to move off your bed but then paused, “Never opened?”

“Well, the guy I slept with had his own and we only did it twice so I’ve never used the ones I bought.”

You watched him walk to your dresser to find the unopened box of Trojans. Harry was so fit and masculine and his ass was gorgeous. He was a work of art from behind but when he turned and walked toward you he was angelic. His toned abs and strong thighs, skin littered with tattoos and bits of hair on his pecs, his handsome face, and of course, the heavy, thick organ between his legs, swollen and hard. Just for you.

He kneed up to you on the bed and handed you the wrapper with the condom, “Ever put a condom on a penis before?” He asked as he stroked himself

You shook your head and tore the wrapper open. When you had the rubber in your palm Harry flipped it over, “This side goes on my tip.”

You brought the condom to his tip and looked up at him as you began to roll the rubber downward but he stopped you, “That’s good. But first, pinch the top here, like this,” he brought your fingers to the top of the rubber and pulled at it away from his crown, “Just gives a little space for movement and for my come.”

You gulped at the image in your brain of the condom being filled with his come after orgasm. His shaft was wide and long as the rubber was rolled down as far as it could reach.

You looked up at his face and he was watching you closely with a soft smile, “Very good.”

Harry scooted himself between your legs, his knees butting against the back of your thighs as he smeared his fingers through your folds, “We’ll go slow. I want to make sure everything feels good. When you had sex before, did you come?

You shook your head no.

“And how did you do it? Was he on top?”

You nodded, “Yeah, he was on top of me. It was kind of quick. Both times. I lied and told him I came.”

“Okay. Did he keep your clit stimulated?” He asked as he thumbed at your clit, mushing into it to drive the point home.

You gasped softly, “No. Never touched it.”

“Not even once? What about foreplay?” He circled your bud and the slickness from your pussy began to coat his fingers.

“We just made out and he fingered me and I did get wet. But he never touched… ohhh….” Harry slid two long fingers into your entrance and you looked down to view the spectacle.

His hand was wet with your arousal as he pumped his fingers in and out slowly, “So you’ve just had a string of bad lovers. I’m gonna do my best to make up for it.”

You sighed as he dragged the pads of his fingers along your front wall before pushing them back into his knuckles, “You’re so wet and ready. You deserve to feel good, Y/n. Deserve to have someone care for you.”

You ticked your hips upward slightly and Harry pumped into you a bit harder, the gushy noises of your pussy getting fingered sounded dirty but so good.

When he pulled his fingers from you he held the base of his shaft in his palm and smoothed his free hand up your tummy, “We’ll start off with you on your back. I’m going to go in gently. Okay?”

You nodded and shot your eyes down to his cock and then back up to his face.

“There you go, just keep your eyes on me. Tell me if anything is uncomfortable.”

Harry pulled at your hand and brought your fingertips over your mound, “Rub your clit the way that feels best for you. Okay?”

“Mmhmm…” you nodded and slid your fingers over your nub as you kept your eyes on his.

The initial stretch of your slick muscle around his thick head had you gasping. He inhaled through his teeth and pressed in slowly, “Your body is so turned on. That feels all right, yeah?”

“Yes… feels good.”

“Yeah? Feels good for me too.” He was breathy as he sunk into you and then pulled back a few inches, looking down at where your bodies were connected, half his cock buried inside of you.

And it surprised you how thick he was and how much of him you felt. You’d always heard you don’t feel much when there’s a penis inside of you but Harry’s penis was definitely working into you and spreading your insides apart.

With your fingers delicately running over your bud you moaned, “Oh god… Harry…”

He gripped your thighs and pulled you closer before shifting himself over you, “We’re gonna make sure it feels so good okay? You’re kind of shallow and I can feel the resistance at this spot here,” he rutted in and you gasped, “Like that… depends on where you are in your cycle could be shallower or more space, but I’m only gonna push in as far as is comfortable for you.”

He had his hand on your cheek as he spoke, “Still feels okay right now?”

You nodded, “Yes. You can go deeper. Wanna feel it.”

Harry groaned softly and pressed his lips to yours. You had to pull your hand away from your clit because his pelvis was taking the place of where your fingers were. When he plunged himself in further you felt a delicious pinch and you panted into his mouth.

“Don’t want to hit your cervix. Usually, it’s not comfortable. I’m getting in there pretty deep, though. You okay?”

“Please… it’s okay.” You did want to feel it. Wanted to have him stuff you full and make you ache and burn and wince in pain. The dildo you used always hit your cervix and you didn’t mind the way it felt. Some days you liked it more than others, depending on how horny you were. And in that moment, you’d never been hornier. You wanted to feel him ruin you.

Harry let out a breathy laugh and pushed himself up so he could look into your eyes, “You want to feel it, honey?”

Nodding your head you felt him spread you apart and fuck into you with one deep rut. Your body bounced upward and you gasped.

He stilled his hips and stayed buried inside of you, his hand on your cheek, “That’s it right there, Y/n. Can’t get it in any further. You like that?”

It was obvious you did. The look on your face told him as much. Your eyes were fluttering and your mouth dropped open as you lifted into him, mushing your clit against his solid pelvis, “Mmm yeah…”

Harry swallowed as he watched your features soften then and scrunch with every thrust. He smoothed his thumb over your bottom lip and you licked at the pad of his digit before you wrapped your lips around it and he was in awe of how filthy you really were when he felt your nails dig into his back.

“S’hurt, honey? At all?”

You moaned around his thumb, your eyes blinking up at him, and nodded before hitching your leg up over his hip to indicate you still wanted more, pushing him in closer with the heel of your foot.

So you wanted it to hurt. At least a little anyway. Harry wasn’t going in hard and he wouldn’t. Not yet. Not until he learned exactly what you liked and what your body needed first. But every time he bottomed out you grunted and sucked on his thumb harder and he was losing it.

“Fuck… you’re so hot, Y/n. Look at you with your lips wrapped around my thumb. You just needed something to suck on, didn’t you? And you feel so good around me. So wet and warm, honey…”

You’d never had a man’s fingers in your mouth. You had no idea what you were doing but when Harry slid his thumb over your bottom lip it just came naturally to you. To pull it into your mouth and it was… god it was taking you over the edge. And he seemed to like it as you swiped your tongue around his skin.

But better yet? His cock. You were so full and it was so incredible to have him like that. The other guy you slept with was fine. But now you’d never want “fine” again. Not after this. Not with the way Harry was pulling himself back and then rocking into you, every plunge better than the last. He didn’t pound into you or try to race to the end. He wanted to make it good for you.

He began to pant deeply, his gasps lined with moans as his thrusts became clumsy and he stilled his hips before pulling his thumb from your mouth, “Let’s get you on top. Okay? Wanna watch you ride me and let you take control. Bet you’re gonna be good at it, aren’t you?” His irises scanned your face as he spoke, his thumb at your cheekbone dragging upward.

“I don’t know? I hope so…” you breathed as he nudged himself upward, deeper, “I do wanna be good for you.”

Harry moaned, “Yeah? You are good for me, honey. My favorite. You don’t even realize how good you are but I’m gonna keep telling you til you believe it. Okay?”

Your eyes were heavy and your body was hot. You nodded and let out a breathy, “Okay…”

“That’s right. Now we’ll have you get on top. Wanna watch my pretty girl get herself off on my cock.”

You felt him slide out of you and you looked down at his long condom-covered dick, coated in your juice. Everything smelled of sex as he dipped down and kissed your mouth before climbing next to you and lying down. He pulled at your hips, bringing you over his lap as you placed your palms on his chest and settled your pussy down at the base of his shaft. You wrapped your palm around him and slid it up and down to feel the rigidness of him. He was so hard and thick it made your mouth water.

With his fingers still at your hips he squeezed gently, “Depending on your angle it’s gonna feel very deep. Sometimes it can ache a little bit because I’ll be tucked up into your cervix,” he moved one hand toward the front of your low tummy, “But you can control how deep I get. Can even tilt your pelvis downward which will give your clit more stimulation. Might make it easier for you to come.”

You looked between your legs as you lifted your hips and rocked forward so you could press your entrance over his cock but then you felt his hand on your chin, directing your sight back to him, “Keep your eyes on me. Want to see your face while you’re pushing me inside of your pretty cunt, okay?”

You nodded and began to push yourself down. He fit inside of you so nicely. All snug and warm, packed inside of your guts. Every inch you took you could feel stretching your wall apart.

Keeping your eyes on his you raised your hips upward and then sunk down further to adjust, letting out a puff of breath as your lips parted until your bum was seated on his lap, his cock stuffing you to the brim.

Harry moaned, “Yes. Good fucking girl,” he made sure to praise you as much as he could because he noted how your eyes lit up every time he did it. Pulling at your hips, he brought your pelvis downward, “This is kind of like the starting position. You only need to grind and rub upward, don’t even have to lift off of me. Just slide in toward my belly button,” he pulled at you, causing you to drag upward on his cock but keeping your clit down against his pelvis, “See? Feels good cause you can keep your clit stimulated this way too. Let’s do this for a bit. Just get used to the motion here and do what feels good.”

It was easier than you thought. Your knees and shins were pressed into the mattress along the sides of Harry’s hips as you slid yourself upward. You’d always imagined it being some crazy acrobatic feat where you sat like a frog and bounced up and down like a pornstar. But this? This you could do. And it felt so intimate. Your palms were pressed into his chest, his hands moved down to your ass as he assisted you along his shaft and then back along to his base.

“Tell me how it feels, honey. The look on your face says you like it but want to make sure…”

You rocked your hips, gripping around him and pulling upward with your eyes on his, “It’s… god… it feels so good, Harry…”

“Feels good for me too. Love this angle,” he moved a hand up to your breasts and palmed at your nipples as you continued fucking yourself on him.

When you’d gotten into the movements and found a rhythm you could hear the wetness coming from your pussy every time you slid up and down his cock.

Harry continued smoothing his hand over your tits, “If you really want to feel me deep, lean back a bit.”

Pushing yourself to sit upright you adjusted your hips and the new angle had him deeper than he was before. You hissed as you swiveled your hips and Harry grunted, running his hand back down to your low tummy, “How’s that feel?”

“It’s kind of achy, but feels really good,” you spoke softly, looking into his eyes as you shifted your pelvis.

“God you’re taking me so well, honey… Look so gorgeous on top of me, pretty tits in my face, fucking yourself on my cock... making yourself feel good.”

Everything felt good. You were sure it was because of Harry. All the nice things he was saying had your head spinning and your heart thrashing.

He knew of course that you didn’t need instructions. You might not have had as much experience as he did but sex was something that came naturally for most. And you were so into it and your innate eroticism was shining through your more reserved demeanor.

Harry began to thrust upward, rocking into you, sticking himself in deep. He had one hand caressing your tits and the other pressed into your tummy. You weren’t sure why he was touching your tummy but when he thrust upward into you sharply you cried out and he pressed harder, “Fuck! You’ve got me so deep inside of you, honey. You wanna feel this?”

You reached your hand down to where his was, your hips writhing over him as he punched himself upward and you gasped when you felt the bulge in your tummy under your palm. He did it again and moaned with you, “Oh my god!”

You could feel his cock pressing through you when you put enough pressure on your tummy with your hand.

“Come here,” Harry wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and pulled you down, making you tilt toward him and smeared his lips against yours. The angle where you could rub your clit on his pelvis was the best. It felt so good and you began to rock yourself over him with whimpers into his mouth.

Harry smiled into the kiss, “Bet you’ve humped your pillow before. So you know how to do this. Sliding over my cock so perfectly, Y/n.”

You pushed your palms into his chest and rolled down over him, hips pasted to his. Your orgasm was already beginning to build and singe in your body as you nodded.

His hands were on your hips as he let you take control and ride him how you wanted, “I knew it. Already have experience with this position, yeah? You wanna come, honey? You gonna fuck yourself on my cock til you’re seeing stars?”

You moaned and nodded with your lips parted.

“That’s right. You already know what to do. Now hump it like a good girl. Show me how you do it, honey…”

Harry’s words were so sweet and yet filled with filth. You loved the way he spoke to you with such care but he could turn it so dirty in a heartbeat. Likening you riding his cock to humping your pillow somehow just pushed you over the edge. And you definitely saw stars as your face twisted up and you choked out his name, “Haaarrry! Harry! Yes!! Ohhhh…”

Your pulsing insides encased Harry’s cock and he let you take what you needed as he moaned and watched your tits bounce and sway with every rock of your hips until his balls were squeezing tight and his throbbing cock couldn’t resist the way you gripped around him.

You didn’t hear Harry’s grunts or his breathy moans as he pumped into you. You didn’t see his face contort in pleasure as he kept his eyes focused on you, the pretty girl coming on his cock. You didn’t take note of how when he’d fully emptied himself into his condom he was still watching you in awe as you were breathlessly panting over him, still coming around him, milking every last bit of him out into the rubber that separated your wet cunt from his thick shaft.

You didn’t notice any of that until you finally caught your breath and felt your body tremble as you looked down at him and felt his fingertips digging into the meat of your hips and saw his heavy eyes watching you. You were going to apologize about how you forgot to look at him when you were coming but he pulled you down over his chest and held you against himself. You could feel his heart beating in his chest and his lungs filling with air on every inhale.

He smoothed his hand down your back and to your bottom, “You okay?”

You puffed out a laugh against his chest. It was funny because obviously you were more than okay. You’d just come so hard your ears were ringing and your vision had nearly gone black just before. Your entire body was limp and wobbly over him as he caressed your bottom and your back.

“Fuck, honey. You came so hard. Did so good.”

You sighed and smiled to yourself as you pushed your hands into his hair, “I did?”

“Mmm… so good, Y/n. Deserve an award for that one.” He chuckled and you could feel the vibrations in his chest against yours.

Smoothing a hand down to his pec you lifted your head to look at him and laughed, “What kind of an award?”  

Harry slid his hand up to your face, “One of those gold star stickers teachers use. I think I’ve got a pack of them actually. Could put it on your t-shirt so everyone knows how good you are.”

The filthy grin on his face had you giggling, “You do not have a pack of gold stars. Do you?”

His smirk widened, “I do actually. And I know a girl who loves being praised who I can use them all on. Maybe we’ll even get you an ice cream.”

You shook your head with a smile on your face, “What if I want kitten stickers instead?” You teased.

Harry inhaled and turned his gaze to look at the ceiling before looking back at you, “Actually… I think I have kitten stickers.”

You laughed, making Harry laugh with you.

“Okay then. Tomorrow you owe me some kitten stickers and ice cream.” You would be asking him later why he had stickers in the first place.

Harry softly pinched at your bum, a lazy grin on his face, “Your roommate’s not gonna freak out if she comes back and I’m here?”

“Nah. I don’t see why she would. Long as you’re not naked.”

Harry chuckled, “And you don’t mind if I stay here either?”

“I’d like it if you stayed.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

“Good,” you bit your lip and trailed your fingers over the sparrow tattoos at his clavicle as you gazed into his eyes full of affection.

“Then tomorrow you get kitten stickers and ice cream for being such a good girl.”

“And maybe a little bit more of you too? Since I was so good?”

“Just a little bit more is all you want?”

You laughed through your nose, “Okay a lot more of you then.”

“Okay, it’s settled. Kitten stickers, ice cream, and a whole lot of me.”

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[silliest-donkey]

“You’d be easier on my mind if you actually wore some damn pants”

You looked up from your phone. The voice you had heard almost startled you. You were casually laid back on your bed - which was the second bed of the room. On the first one, Ellie Williams, some nerdy chick you had met at college, was laying down on her stomach. She had offered you the chance of being roommates on day one. Even though, only a week after moving in, it already started feeling more like a curse than a great deal. You knew choosing to live under the same roof as someone you had just met was beyond reckless - but you had no other choice at the time.

"Excuse me?" you scoffed.

"You heard me."

You chuckled weakly, still struggling to process her comment. "I'm wearing shorts," you attempted to justify yourself, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words.

Ellie's response was immediate and defiant. "Still, it's not enough coverage," she retorted.

You let out an exasperated sigh, unable to believe that she was making such a big deal out of something so trivial.

"Ugh, seriously? We're both girls, plus, you're not my mom." you protested, trying to inject some logic into the conversation.

However, Ellie was having none of it. Her sharp retort cut through the air with a fierce determination. "It doesn't matter," she countered, unyielding in her stance.

You shook your head in disbelief, feeling a mix of amusement and irritation at Ellie's stubbornness.

You noticed your roomate's gaze lingering on your thighs, her brows furrowing slightly. A subtle flicker of nervousness crossed her face, as if she was trying to restrain herself from fixating on your legs. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lower lip, betraying her inner turmoil.

“You could just be wearing sweatpants or something..." your roommate pleaded.

You couldn't believe how worked up Ellie was getting about some simple pyjama shorts. Her desperate attempts to prove her point were almost comical. It sounded like she had lived in someone's basement for the last nineteen years of her life.

"Come on, Ellie," you retorted. "It's not the middle ages anymore. I'm not going to wear sweatpants just because you can't handle a bit of exposed skin."

“No, I just don’t want to be constantly looking at your thighs!” she exclaimed, clearly getting annoyed.

The stubborn girl's sudden outburst took you by surprise. A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as you realized the implication of her words.

"So it's a problem that you can't keep your eyes off my thighs, huh?" you teased, unable to resist the opportunity to rile her up even more.

Ellie's face flushed a deep shade of crimson, realizing she had inadvertently revealed more than she intended.

"What? No, that's not... I didn't say that.." she stuttered, her eyes darting away from your smug expression.

You had stopped paying attention to her the moment she started stumbling over her own words. Now with your headphones on, you blissfully ignored Ellie's stares as you watched a show on your phone. Or, at least, Ellie thought so.

She laid back on her bed, frustrated, resting a tattoed arm over her forehead.

A heavy exhale exited her lips, as she flipped her body onto her stomach, the stirring sounds of her covers disturbing the silence. She was trying her best to hide how much the simple sight of you was affecting her.

Ellie grabbed a pillow and pressed it around her head, doing whatever she could to avoid looking at you. But it was so hard to do so when the very thing she was trying to ignore was right in front of her. She eventually gave up and let her eyes travel over your curves.

Her gaze took in everything, as she finally allowed herself to stare at her heart's content.

Ellie's passionate visual study of your features started at your shoulders, before slowly wandering down your body, taking in every piece of skin that wasn't hidden by clothing. As the poor girl tried her best to push away the sensations of arousal, she found it increasingly difficult to ignore the growing heat and tension within her. Every glance she allowed herself to take seemed to fan the flames of her desire, and she could feel her inhibitions slipping away from her control with each passing moment. Despite her efforts to remain composed, her body betrayed her as her heart raced and her breath grew shallow, signaling that she was losing the battle against her own ache.

Before she could realize it, Ellie's thighs were humping the sheets of her bed. Her lips, slightly parted in adoration, occasionally let out soft gasps. She felt like she was melting into a puddle, so needy, only from looking at your thighs. The dry humping did nothing to soothe the feeling, if anything, it intensified the tingling sensation she was subjected to.

Ellie bit her lip so hard it almost started bleeding, her jerky fingers gripping the bedsheets in a pathetic attempt to keep herself from doing anything she would regret. However, the longer she just laid there and stared, the more she felt the last shreds of her dignity and self-respect fade away into nothingness.

She slowly pulled the covers of her bed over her shoulders, her hands sliding under her clothes. Her thumbs lowered dangerously over her shivering skin, from her breasts, down to over her stomach until she felt her clit.

Ellie sneaked a shy finger into her underwear. Just one. A small, nearly inaudible moan escaped her twitching lips as she felt the fleshy folds of skin on either side of her vagina throb.

Your roomate thanked god you were wearing headphones. You were only meters away, and she was pleasuring herself at the half-naked sight of your thighs alone. It felt so humiliating, and downright outrageous, but she loved the thrill.

Her index was now coated in her natural lube, desperately pressing and stroking her swollen button. It was a losing battle, Ellie's mind, clouded by pictures of you and only you, was slowly turning to mush. Hell, you were offering her such a perfect combination of charms that it felt like it was altering her own brain chemistry. She kept her forehead against the bed, her moans muffling into the covers as she was already reaching climax. She couldn't look at you anymore now that she had committed to her urges so pathetically. She probably wouldn't even be able to look at herself in the mirror for a few days, now that she thought about it.

Ellie remained for a few moments in the same position, struggling to catch her breath. She didn't even notice before a long time that she was drooling all over her bed, her mind stuck on the sight of your perfect, supple thighs, looping, replaying, repeating in her pretty little dozed off head every single one of the witty comebacks you had given her earlier, which had made your lips move so attractively. After panting onto her bedsheets for what felt like hours, she finally got a grip of herself, and raised up from her bed. Her knees wobbly, she cleaned up while you were still laying down with your headphones, visibly fixated on whatever you were watching on your screen.

Forgetting about this was not negotiable with her brain. From now on, she would probably get wet only by seeing the tiniest bit of your exposed flesh. And, she wasn't going to make anymore rude comments anytime soon. How could she blame you for anything when she was the creep? When she was the one who got sickly obsessed with you to the point you were a constant turn-on for her?

The thought alone of anyone else getting to see you like this made her want to punch the goddamn wall. Ellie was well aware of how toxic this was, that you did not owe her anything and did not deserve her to be bossy with you. However, the more she tried to calm herself down, the more conflicted she was getting. She found herself crouched down on the bathroom floor, burying her heavily blushing face into her arms.

Your roommate had realized too late how much of a hold you had on her.

[masterlist]

[pupyuj]

okay hear me out... nerd!annyeongz (g!p) who take the reader to pound-town for teasing them🤭🤭

[new anon unlocked!]

-🐶

lordt apologies to 🐶 anon IT'S BEEN LIKE... MONTHS?! 😭 this ask was collecting mold in my drafts omg BUT EHE i'm lucky i had some stuff on it so i can just continue where i left off :DD this is gonna be a bit long too so bear with me ya’llll 😭✊

you weren't their bully, per se... but you would be lying if you said that you didn't make fun of them every once in a while 🤭 they just looked like the biggest losers ever, how could you not? 😭 baggy sweatpants, big hoodies, thick glasses, noses glued to their textbooks, always scribbling something in their notebooks... but at least wonyoung knew how to style herself, yujin was fucking hopeless! and you always made sure she knew,, either by making fun of her outfit for that day, her messy hairdo, and the rugged way she carried herself around the halls... you're always on yujin's ass for no reason 😒😒

and then there's wonyoung who could totally climb on the very top of the social hierarchy if she so wanted to. she was extraordinarily pretty, moderately rich, can definitely fight bcs you were always impressed with how stingy her side-eye is, but she wants to stick with her loser best friend 🙄 stupid girl...

seeing them together always made you excited bcs they were your daily dose of serotonin, for all the wrong reasons! but the thing doesn't happen until you catch them alone in a mostly empty classroom one day, huddled up in the back corner engaged in casual chatter with their textbooks and notebooks cluttered on their desks as usual... you were bored so you decided to pay them a visit!

"you know yujin, i always wondered—" you rudely interrupted their conversation, earning the usual frowns you get from them whenever they see you. ugh wonyoung was so cute glaring at you since you were once again attacking her bff just for the fun of it,, yujin was even cuter. head hanging low, fidgeting with the cuffs of her sleeves... but god she looked pathetic :(( "—how you would look without these..." you pulled yujin's glasses off her face before either of them could react,,

DSKHKSMVK your breath getting caught in your throat after seeing yujin without her glasses??? "well damn.. who knew you could be so sexy, ahn?" you teased, licking your lips and shooting the tall girl a suggestive look bcs she genuinely did look fucking hot???? "you should keep this look! or else you'll never get laid! that's gonna be a waste of that big dick." ofc that was the one thing about yujin that was appealing to you :((

🫠 wony being the one that gets the courage to stand up, trying to snatch yujin's glasses back but you raised up it in the air, laughing and just being a little shit 😭😭 it was funny until you found your ass backed up against their desk, now wonyoung looked intimidating bcs of how much she towered over you and that scary little glare she had on 😰 “leave unnie alone. this is the first and last time i’ll ask.” see now that made you laugh again! she was intimidating, sure, but oh her face was just too cute! and you couldn’t take her seriously when she wore that stupid sweatshirt with the university mascot on it! she even matched with yujin! “what are you gonna do? punish me?” you teased, tilting your head and giggling.. you were so annoying 😭

and then wonyoung sneaks her knee in between your thighs, shutting you up immediately bcs now she was wayyy too close 🫣 “that’s a great idea actually. i always wanted to know if the ‘campus whore’ deserved her title.” whoawhoawhoa 😳😳 you wouldn’t even be able to spit back since wony raises her knee and presses it against your cunt! and ofc you whimpered… and ofc wony doesn’t waste the opportunity to grab your hair from behind and force you to look up at her… “unnie, you wouldn’t believe how wet she is.” wonyoung tells yujin, dark eyes locked onto yours while she slowly moved her thigh… 😵‍💫

“i-i wanna feel too…” yujin was quick to put her hands on you! bcs in truth, even when you're so horrible and straight up rude to her, she secretly gets off to you 💔💔 she’s kinda creepy with it too… stalking your social medias, admiring your pics and jacking off to them from time to time… and every time you’re all up in her face being a bitch all she can think about is using your mouth and filling it up with her load… maybe she’ll get that chance today! 🤤🤤 while wony’s making your ride her thigh, yujin has already ripped your uniform open and pulled your bra down to fondle your tits with her shaking hands… god she was so clumsy! 🙄 (she has never touched a girl in her life, give her a break!)

and both of them make their little dreams come true with their favorite position: yujin seated on a chair while you’re deepthroating her as you’re bent over with wonyoung pounding your tight ass with her own monster of a cock 🫣🫣 you couldn’t believe that the two losers filled you up better than any of the guys or the hot girls you fucked before.. it was almost humiliating how into it you were! allowing the dumb virgin ahn yujin to grab the back of your head and move you up and down her length.. she was so obnoxiously loud that people wandering around the halls probably heard her 😳 and then there was wonyoung who clearly had a lot of anger to express towards you! ramming her cock in your hole and driving herself crazy with how well you can take both of them! fuck, if she was petty enough she could get you pregnant… but that was a mission for another day 🤭 for now she needed her revenge, and that she will get, that’s for sure! 🫢

poor yujinnie who’s too caught up in the feeling that she practically forces her cum down your throat.. she doesn’t hear your gags or feel how you’ve drawn blood on her thigh with your sharp nails 😣 “f-fuck… yujin-unnie, y-you have to fuck her for real… so fucking tight i can’t believe it.. ah!” ugh being talked about as if you were some kind of toy by jang wonyoung of all people was degrading by her voice was unnaturally high-pitched and whiny.. she (and yujin) was so cute and this all felt too good to fight against! 😵‍💫

and that was how the two biggest losers(?) of the campus got their way with the school whore with the big mouth ���� they may or may not have kept you in the classroom for a couple hours more.. just fucking you to their hearts’ content.. and it got even more fun when you ended up feeling like you didn’t have enough of them and invited them to your dorm room.. 😳

[cattjull]

PART 1 HERE PART 3 HERE

Summary: Abby doesn't want something serious. You won't let her fuck you and give you nothing in exchange, will you?

CW: Just a little smut under the cut (mdni or just skip the italics part), r! is afab, dacryphilia if you squint, strap use (r! receiving), r! is kind of a manipulator.

Her dick slipped in and out of you relentlessly as you chanted her name, tears falling from your eyes from how good it felt.

"You like this?" She asked in your ear. The knot building in your stomach felt heavy, like a tub of ice cream. Her voice was sweet as caramel. Her panting was the cherry on top.

"Y-yeeahh." You managed to mutter out, your voice high-pitched. "M' gonna..."

"Come on, give it to me, baby." She commanded, and you instantly came. You were incredibly wet that night, so wet that you squirted all over Abby's strap, screaming louder than ever.

After some minutes you spent going to the bathroom, taking a pee, putting on some of Abby's T-shirts with no panties and washing your face, you came back to her bed where she waited for you, in short pajamas. You climbed onto her like a koala, wrapping your arms around her neck and your legs around one of hers. Some minutes passed while she just caressed your hair and you kissed her neck until you pulled back a little to look at her in the eye.

"Abby, will we be something?"

"Listen, I know you want this to be serious." She affirmed cautiously. You hadn't knew her for too long, so trying to guess what would she say next was practically impossible.

One way or another, you were afraid of what she would say next. Maybe she didn't like you? You didn't want her to go after spending a whole month with her and staying at her place at least twice a week.

"Mhm."

"But I don't think I can handle it. I'm too busy with work, and you know that." She excused herself, the guilt in her almost palpable as each word felt like a punch to your gut.

"So you just wanted to use me and throw me away like a broken toy?" Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you blinked rapidly.

"No, no, no, baby, listen." She seemed to instantly regret her choice of words and sat up too.

"Listen what? I don't want you to fuck me when you're free." You yelled at her, cracking your voice in purpose at the end of your sentence.

"We can have something casual if you want. But right now I'm really busy to-" The tears kept coming out of your eyes.

"No, I don't want to." Your voice came out of your mouth more high-pitched than usual and, honestly, it sounded like this was the worst day of your life.

"What if I pay you?"

"What?" You weren't sure you heard it well. This was kind of your goal, but you didn't expect her to offer it so easily. Plus, you wanted a rich girlfriend, not to be pampered like a whore.

"I'll pay you. Like a sugar baby. I won't be using you, I'll be giving you something in exchange." You acted like you had just started considering her offer.

"How much are we talking about?" You asked, still not convinced.

"Four thousands a month plus dates and gifts." Fine, this could work.

"You think that's enough for me after literally breaking my heart?" You asked coldly. You didn't feel exactly great using her this way, but you needed the money, didn't you? And, she in fact broke your heart

"Six thousands." You sighed and furrowed your eyebrows, pretending to be mad at her even if you were enchanted with the idea, and laid down next to her with crossed arms, facing the ceiling.

"I have some rules."

"Tell me."

"First, you can't be with someone else or I'll rip my eyes out of my head and kill myself in your front door step."

"Did you need to be that extreme?" She asked with a disbelief smirk.

"It's just so you remember it well." You smiled. "Second, you have to pretend you're my girlfriend in front of everyone. Everyone. And act like my girlfriend."

"I can do that."

"And third, don't treat me like a slut because I'm not one."

"I have the feeling you've done this lots of times before." She said with suspicion.

"Third rule." You reminded her in a warning tone.

"I didn't mean it in that way."

"Sure." You rolled your eyes and turned your back to her. She pulled you close to her, wrapping her big arms around your waist and forcing you to be the little spoon. "Hey!" You giggled.

"You shouldn't stay mad at me. It doesn't suit you."

"Fine, fine." You let yourself smile for once, wiping your tears.

"We'll go shopping tomorrow, okay?"

Taglist: @elliessgfsstuff @giuliaexe66 @playboygirlsnextdoor00 @justhereforthosefics

[pseudowho]

Fellatio

Giving Higuruma Hiromi head in his office...like he deserves.

18+, MDNI, you know what you're here for.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You bring coffee for Hiromi, as you always do, on your afternoon visit to his office; but today, coffee doesn't seem like the thing that will fix him.

With case notes spread over his desk, as scattered as he looks, you know Hiromi is having a bad day. His eyes are all at once electric, frustrated and tired. His movements are staccato, his nerves frayed.

You clear your throat. The coffee is laid aside, surplus. Hiromi runs a hand through his hair, looking up at you with something akin to desperation. Approaching slowly, you perch on the edge of his desk, careful to avoid the chaos.

"Hiromi." He hums briefly, questioning, the  intonation upwards. When you don't answer, he clicks his pen a few times, fast, and drops it, looking up at you with a tight smile.

"I'm sorry, I..." he trails off, hands hovering over his notes as if trying to repair them by magic, "...I may not be much fun today."

You hum in agreement; "No, but maybe I could be. Or, at least...useful." You slip off the edge of the desk to kneel in front of Hiromi. Spreading your fingers over his thighs, you spin his chair round to face you, casually spreading his thighs apart.

Hiromi's breath catches at you kneeling before him, fingers caressing the sensitive skin of his thighs, and he feels himself swallow thickly, hands back to fiddling with his pen. His thoughts cloud over as your hands slide up his thighs, unbuttoning his trousers, slowly sliding his zipper down.

You don't break eye contact, watching him, giving him every opportunity to stop you. He doesn't. Hiromi is hot and shivering all at once, thrumming with anticipation, biting his bottom lip as your tongue wets yours.

By the time your hand dips into the front of his trousers, freeing his cock for him, Hiromi's eyelids droop, captivated. You hold Hiromi's cock in your hand, feeling it harden with every pulse, his heart rate climbing steadily.

Wetting your lips again as you drink him in (on edge, his hands clasping and  unclasping the arms of his chair, foot starting to tap urgently on the floor), you give Hiromi one last enquiring look.

"Please," he whispers, voice cracking. Draping your forearms across his thighs, you take your permission, and take Hiromi's cock into your mouth, hot and wet and all at once, pursing your lips around him and licking languidly from tip to base as you feel him throb, going from semi-erect to rock hard in your mouth within a few rhythmic sucks.

Hiromi whimpers, his frayed nerves fizzing under his skin as waves of pleasure roll immediately through him, your mouth wet and stroking around him, your tongue massaging his cockhead with each time you pull your head back. He tucks his pen behind his ear, fingers splayed against the arms of his chair, electrified.

When you grip the base of his cock, holding him to you, and eager to make him cum with your mouth alone, Hiromi begins to fall apart, unable to keep himself still. His hands are frantic, sinking into your hair and stroking strands of it out of your eyes, feeling the bob of the back of your head as you suck him deeper and deeper into your throat. His other hand shoots up to clutch his own hair, pulling at the roots as he whines, a needy sobbing sound filling the room alongside the wet sucks of your tongue and lips.

As your mouth continues to work on him without speeding up, Hiromi huffs in frustration, an exasperated groan, unable to stop himself from bucking his hips up into your mouth. You splay your hands over his lower belly, thumbs stroking his V-line downwards, and as the tips of his fingers drift to your jaw and throat, feeling your soft gags as his weeping cockhead strokes over your throat, Hiromi feels his orgasm begin to creep towards him, hovering at a distance, needing more rope to pull it closer. He sobs his pleasure, begging, whimpering for more.

Hiromi's hand lets go of your jaw for a moment to drift downwards, needing to feel your skin. He hastily unbuttons the top of your shirt, able to graze his fingers inside just enough to reveal the frilled edge of your bra. The simplicity of your hinted nudity is outstandingly erotic to him, with the curve of your breast squashing and unsquashing against his knee as you press against him.

His foot is tapping urgently now; one hand clutches at the roots of his own hair, and the other moves from your head, to your jaw, stroking his thumb gently over the whorls of your ears and back again. Hiromi's head is thrown back in ecstasy, his Adam's apple bobbing and he releases a long, smooth moan each time you push your mouth down around him.

Hiromi feels you shuffle forwards and you raise your skirt, spreading your thighs apart as you rest your pussy over his tapping foot; as you strain to keep your mouth around his cock, he raises his foot for you, pressing it hard against your aching clit.

Hiromi feels his last thread unravel as you moan, high and sweet around his cock. He leans forwards, sinking his fingers into your hair, releasing low, urgent, frantic groans and whimpers as he pushes your face down to meet his bucking hips, fucking down your throat, as tears prick in your eyes.

Feeling your throat gagging around him, Hiromi cums with a bark, and low, keening whines as his seed, hot and salty, spurts against the back of your throat in waves. Shaking with rolling pleasure, Hiromi leans back, letting go of your hair, the tension ebbing away as his orgasm fades.

As you pull away from him, licking his cock clean and swallowing the evidence of your debauchery, your eyes twinkle up at Hiromi. His eyes full of affectionate warmth, he brushes one long-fingered hand across your cheek and jaw in thanks.

Hiromi is silent in his gratefulness, his brain stilling, cogs slowing. He feels a warm coffee press into his hand, and warm lips kiss his temple, and he is at peace.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Higuruma brainrot. Couldn't sleep without writing this first.

*small bark*

[1d1195]

Protection Extra IV

Read Protection here | ~1.8k words

From me: I really got to thinking about this idea from 🎶-ask. It is short, but hopefully it's enough. I've missed them loads. This is back within the first year of their official dating. I mentioned I would be jumping time frames a bit with these extras, so here it is.

Warnings: a little angsty. But fluffy overtones. Harry's just a protective guy. Also, the tiniest bit of smut but you have to squint and read between the lines. Mostly heavy making out and a little bit of touching.

Summary: Harry might not work for DSS anymore in the same way he used to. He doesn't guard her life because it's his job. He guards it because it's his life; her entire being is his and he would lose his mind (worse) if something happened to her.

She does not care to the same capacity as him. (But she does feel bad about it at least.)

“You said I could,” he frowned. The little scrunch between his eyebrows appeared when he concentrated. She loved it endlessly. Even if what he was asking was ridiculous. So as much as she loved that little furrow between his eyebrows, she was not going to cave. Instead, she smoothed her fingers on the bunch of skin and cupped his cheek with her hand. He turned into her hand and kissed her palm.

“Like as a joke, Harry,” she rolled her eyes she dropped her hand and returned to her previous position. She couldn’t see his face. But it didn’t matter. She already knew what faces he made any time she annoyed him anyway.

It was insane they were even having this conversation. Harry broached it so casually too. They were snuggled on the sofa, her body resting in his embrace. His knees bent around either side of her body and she laid across his torso. She fit so warmly against him it was hard to believe he was even asking her such a thing because the idea she would ever leave the circle of his arms was ridiculous.

“Okay,” he sighed. It was obvious he was frustrated by the decision. Her head was close enough to his mouth that he could kiss the top of her hair, so he did. He ran one hand up and down her arm sitting in the quiet while he held her safely in his arms. It was his favorite part of the day, holding her close to him where he knew nothing bad was going to happen. He wouldn’t let it.

Obviously, she took his silence as plotting to convince her. Which he could never. He knew that. He knew he would have an easier time convincing a fish to walk than telling her what to do. “I literally have my phone on me all the time and now you know about my shoe trick.”

He sighed. “But y’didn't have y'phone,” he reminded her. “No shoes either.”

There was that; she would allow him that much. “Well, there's no more threat, so I don't need—”

"Kitten," he sighed rubbing a hand over his face. He was exasperated. “I don’t want t’talk ‘bout this anymore,” he mumbled.

She frowned feeling bad she upset him. But he was thinking way too far over the top. “No one is even going to remember me anymore,” she whispered quietly. “He’s in jail for a really long time,” she reminded him. He didn’t answer her. “Harry,” she whispered. “Talk to me.”

“I already said I don’t want t’talk ‘bout it anymore.”

Her frown deepened and she sighed; feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world because she wouldn’t put a tracking device in her arm. “I have the scrunchie, too; for when you’re away,” she reminded him. He nodded, still silent. “Harry,” she sat up on her knees, so she could look at him. He was so pretty, all soft skin and angular. He was so handsome it made her swoon on a regular basis, and he was all hers. But she had to stand her ground.

His eyes looked sad, tired. Too sad. “M’not trying t’be controlling.”

“Of course not, Harry. I know—”

“Honey,” he interrupted.

Her heart skipped a beat because for whatever reason, when he called her honey, it made her lose all rational thought. It seemed like the conversation was far more serious than when he called her kitten, love, or even Miss Wildflower. She felt like she was nothing more than a container of the very sweet goop he called her. “I talked ‘bout this with m’therapist and we... I know m’being... crazy,” he frowned. He cupped the side of her face as he spoke so softly. Like all of this was a secret. “But... I was insanely lucky,” he reminded her. “Y’were brilliant,” he complimented. “I told you ‘bout a fail safe in passing and y’had been planning all along. I was completely blindsided by y’departure. Every step you had planned was perfect. But if y’didn’t have an AirTag, I wouldn’t have found you,” he admitted. She didn’t speak because his compliment was too nice. She didn’t think about it all that much. Mainly because she didn’t like thinking about betraying Harry the way she did. It was nearly a year ago and he was still worried. It probably killed him to admit that out loud. Because it was his job at the time, and he wouldn’t have been able to find her. But it wasn’t just his job. He loved her so completely.

If something happened to her, she really believed Harry wouldn’t survive the guilt. He barely forgave himself for her injured leg and she wasn’t convinced he fully forgave himself for that either.

She turned toward his palm in the same way he had and kissed his hand softly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “You don’t need t’apologize, kitten. Y’didn’t do anything wrong.”

She took a deep breath. She had her own therapist and they had also discussed a lot about her hyper-independence. Even with someone like Harry to rely on because she could, and he wouldn’t ever judge her. “I’m not...” she swallowed. “I had people follow me around for years, Harry,” she reminded him.

“I know—”

She pressed a finger to his lips gently. “I couldn’t do what I wanted ninety percent of my life, Harry,” she reminded him. “Do you know what it’s like to want to go to the mall to get new jeans because yours ripped and someone tells you that you can’t? Or that you want to go to a new frozen yogurt place with friends, but you’re not allowed to? If I forgot a vegetable for dinner, I couldn’t run to the store and back without it being a production,” he didn’t know what any of that felt like; not really. He only knew it from the end of production. The part of it all she didn’t like. So, he stayed quiet. “If you texted me every five minutes for the rest of our lives, asking where I was, I would tell you every. Single. Time,” she assured him locking her gaze with his. He felt it in his stomach, the way she looked at him. She meant every word she spoke. “If you put a tracking device in me it’ll... it’ll just feel like the rest of my life. Unable to make decisions on my own. Unable to live freely,” she told him. “You have my location through my phone. I am more than willing to have that scrunchie on my wrist and in my hair when you’re not within a couple hours of me,” she promised thinking about the weekend he spent with his mom. She wondered how long he stared at the little blipping dot that told him she was safe and in her house for most of the time he was gone. “Those AirTags saved my life because you told me I needed a failsafe, Harry. You saved me.”

His gaze dropped from hers and they were quiet. Harry didn’t like the compliment. He felt like he didn’t do a good job because she nearly drowned and had a scar on her thigh that made him want to smack his head on the wall for letting those things happen to her. Silently, she settled back into his arms, her ear resting so she had the perfect sound of his heart thudding against her.

“Harry?” She whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

He smiled, kissed the top of her head. “I love you, too,” his head dropped back against the arm of the sofa and he squeezed her. He thought of all those days she studied on the ground and how they were always this close to snuggling this way. “M’sorry m’so nervous,” he mumbled. “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself,” he pressed his nose just behind her ear, like he was tracing the outline of her hair behind it.

“I think if I had a tracking device, you wouldn’t enjoy your life. Wouldn’t take your eyes off it.”

He thought of visiting his mother back in March and how the anxiety built and fell over and over as he looked at the little blip telling him where her scrunchie was. She was right. He would have it on every screen he owned if he knew her exact location. “You’re right.”

“Oh, that had to have hurt,” she giggled and kissed his throat.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a genius, kitten. M’happy t’say you’re right.” It was embarrassing how those words turned her on. A shiver rippled through her. No one loved her as much as Harry. No one trusted her instinct, her intelligence, or judgement as much as he did. But it was more than that. Because Harry knew people didn’t believe her for years. People misjudged her abilities because of her father and circumstance. They didn’t believe in her. So it was like he had complimented how pretty she looked (which she did) when he said she was right. It wasn’t an ego thing. “Did y’like that, honey?” He hummed his lips nipping at her earlobe as he spoke.

Harry knew exactly how much she liked that.

“Off,” she ordered shoving his shirt up his torso. It didn’t matter than she had seen him without a shirt hundreds of times since the day they warmed up in his car after the icy dip in the water when he saved her life a second time in one week. She liked to feel the hard ripples of his stomach and he had promised she could look as much as she wanted once she was warm.

Well now she was warm. “Yes, ma’am,” he pulled it off the rest of the way and pulled her in to kiss her as deeply as he could before he pushed her back to the opposite end of the couch and settled between her legs. “Say it,” he whispered, not quite begging. But he wanted to hear it. Because it made him feel better. It made him worry less about all the thoughts they had discussed in the last hour. He carefully shifted her leg as if he was worried it was the very same day she nearly bled out. He slipped his hand between their bodies feeling her through her leggings.

She moaned softly while he kissed the length of her throat and brushed his lips against the swell of her chest as she tried to maintain enough air to speak before she was lost in Harry and all his perfection.

She had no problem saying it. Because it was true. Truer than most anything she believed in her life. Harry was hers and he was going to protect her in any way he could even if she wasn't willing to put a tracking device in her body. “I’m all yours,” she promised breathlessly.

--

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[allbark-no-bite]

cats and christmas.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.2k)

summary: your sailor has finally made it home in time for Christmas. only he gets more than a surprise waiting for him under the tree

warnings: talk of sex, slightly explicit description of body parts

author’s note: a little late Christmas present for you all! this is a continuation of the Marriage and Honor universe where Jake inevitably meets the reader’s cat :)

(read the first two parts here: marriage & honor, december and devotion)

————————————————————————

Your finger traces softly down the bridge of Jake's nose, ever so gentle, and his eyes threaten to flutter shut, the steady rise and fall of his chest already slowing. Even if he hadn't already been dead on his feet, exhausted after a near year long deployment of sleeping on bunks that swayed enough to make even the hardiest of sailors seasick, the feather light touch of your fingertips smoothing against his eyelids, brushing down his nose and tracing his lips was soothing enough to put him into a trance-like state and he was out like a light in minutes.

Jake's laid out on top of the bed, still in his uniform, duffle bag having been forgotten at the door and boots haphazardly discarded beside it. The soft, whispered conversation that the two of you had been holding slowly comes to a stop as you realize Jake has stopped murmuring replies and the even rise and fall of his chest has deepened. If he hadn't already been so tired, his ability to fall asleep so instantly would have been laughable.

You trace your finger once more down the slope of his nose before leaning down to place a kiss to his hair line. "Jake."

"Hmm?" comes his reply, the best he can muster in his half-awake, half-sleeping state.

"As much as I missed you, you're not sleeping here in your uniform. If you're not gonna shower, at least go change."

Sighing, he cracks a jade green eye open at you. He's perfectly comfortable where he is, or at least as comfortable as he can be in his uniform. He's spent many of his first nights back from deployment asleep on an airport bench, and this was a vast improvement. Even so, a part of him, the reasonable part, knows that he'll thank you in the morning when he isn't sticky with the spray of salt water doesn't smell like the stale cabin air of the ship.

"I'll run you a hot bath," you offer, carding your fingers through what's left of his blonde hair. You had heard him complain enough about the lukewarm showers on the ship to know that the offer would be too tempting for him to resist.

Proving your point, Jake is quick to take you up on the offer, grumbling an "Mmkay" and begrudgingly forcing himself off of the bed. After smiling after him for a moment from the bed, you get up to start on his bath. Just as you're about to pass from the threshold of the bedroom and enter into the bathroom, Jake's voice stops you.

"(Y/n). What is that?"

Jake is paused in the middle of your bedroom, his top already shed and pants halfway down his legs. Standing opposite of him is Nacho himself, all twelve pounds of the feline looking as equally as disgruntled to see Jake as Jake is to see him. Jake's bewildered green eyes look from you, to the irritated looking orange tabby, and then back to you.

Internally wincing because you had completely forgotten that you were going to casually mention the cat to Jake before you got back home, you slowly turn back towards the bathroom.

"(Y/n)!" Jake shouts after you, but you intentionally ignore him, fully aware that he can't exactly chase after you with his pants still around his ankles. 

When he does walk into the bathroom, now down to his boxers, you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub, preoccupying yourself with running the water.

"(Y/n)," he says again, this time his tone stern enough to make you look up from what you're doing. You smile innocently in an attempt to diffuse whatever argument he's about to put up. Jake's green eyes fix you with an accusatory stare. It's hard enough to turn your impish smile sheepish.

Having made the split second decision to take the route of asking for forgiveness rather than permission when you fled to the bathroom, you don't offer up any sort of explanation as Jake glares down at you. It's now a battle of wills as you stare right back at him, fighting to contain your smile. If Jake thinks he can intimidate you, he's dead wrong on that one. It's a cat and he'll get over it.

Jake gives in first. He releases an exhaustive sigh and shakes his head, which only makes you smile wider as he admits defeat. He leans down partially to peck your lips before pulling away to fix you with another less accusing stare. "You are so damn lucky that I love you."

Your eyes catch as he pulls away, Jake's green ones intentionally lingering to see if you've caught on to the end of his sentence.

With everything that went on before his deployment, the suddenness of your marriage, the fighting, the making up, and then Jake leaving almost immediately after, the two of you didn't get the proper time to get to know each other. It wasn't even until a few months into his deployment that you started to feel as if you really even knew who Jake was. Prior to the few hours before he left, everything you had known about him had been purely surface level, and you only knew those things because he was a friend of Natasha's. In all honestly, your original opinion of him had been based solely off of the uniform that he wore—nothing but trouble. Hundreds of emails and hours upon hours upon hours of facetime calls had proved you wrong. Underneath all of that cocky fighter pilot bravado was an honest, too-good-to-be-true southern boy with nothing but good intentions.

Maybe the two of you had gone about it all wrong, but Jake Seresin had completely stolen your heart.

"I love you too."

Jake's gaze lingers, a meaningful look in his eyes before he pulls himself away from the moment. His hands go to his boxers, intending to undress, but then he pauses, looking back to you. "Do you want me to— I can— I know we haven't—"

At the realization that the two of you haven't exactly seen the other naked, you can't help but laugh. One night together and eleven months of deployment didn't exactly leave a whole lot of time for the two of you to even think about having sex. The thought that you hadn't done anything hasn't even occurred to you until this very moment.

Not to say that Jake wasn't attractive, because that was far from the truth. He was tall, muscular in all of the right places, and not to mention had a smile that was the very definition of panty-dropping. But your original distain for who you had thought him to be had made any sexual attraction you might have felt for him an afterthought.

Now that he's standing in front of you, half naked, the broadness of his bare shoulders and promising bulge in the front of his boxer briefs are hard to ignore.

Hands coming up to cover most of your face, you giggle at the irony of it. "Oh my god. I mean, we're married, Jake. I'm going to see it eventually."

At seeing the flush on his face, you add, "But I can leave if you want me to."

"No, it's just... I thought I would ask," Jake admits softly, almost shyly you would have thought if you didn't know him better.

Regardless, you do your best not to stare as he rids himself of the briefs. Even so, it's near impossible not to catch sight of him out of the corner of your eye. Jake's well endowed enough to make any girl blush. He's girthy and long but not obscenely so, and your thoughts trail to the realization that he's not even hard. It's enough to make your cheeks hot, and Jake doesn't miss the action, tucking away that fact for later. You've got plenty of time to become acquainted with each other in the following weeks.

For the time being, he slips past you and steps into the bathtub, sinking in with a pleased groan.

"Good?" you ask, laughing.

"You have no idea," he says, sinking lower and lower until he has completely disappeared beneath the surface. Jake emerges from the water, his hair slick back and duck-like. Just another little version of Jake that you haven't seen yet. He snorts, shaking the excess water from his eyes.

Watching him, you come to the realization that you could get used to this. This little house. This life. Him.

While you're lost in your thoughts, the bathroom door creaks open a bit from where you've left it cracked open, and Nacho slips in. He eyes first Jake, and then you crouched beside him and hops up onto the higher edge of the bathtub. His round, globe-like eyes peer at Jake in utter fascination as he squats his haunches down, seemingly settling in to enjoy the show.

"What is this? A viewing party?" Jake huffs in pretend annoyance. He slides down further into the tub, as if sinking deeper into the clear water will offer some modesty. "Is this going to become a thing? Him watching me when I'm naked?"

You laugh at him, picking up the large orange cat from under his front legs and plopping him down into your lap.

"He just loves his daddy," you tease, lifting up Nacho by his armpits and pressing him up against your face. "Don't you, baby?" You purse your lips, exaggerating pressing kisses to the cat's ear. He wiggles to get out of your hands after a few moments.

Although he tries to mask it, you see his eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the pet name. You'll have to revisit that later. Jake curtly blows air from his nose, emitting a half amused chuckle.

Instead of commenting, he reaches out to pet the top of the cat's head. With water droplets now dripping down his face, Nacho decides he's had enough of the two of you. He flails his sausage-like body around until you have no choice but to let go of him, and he makes his great escape back out of the bathroom door.

You make a slight pouting face after the cat and then turn to rest your chin atop the ledge of the tub. You shift your eyes upwards to peer up at Jake, who is now smiling fondly.

"I'm glad you had him while I was gone," he admits. "I hated leaving you here alone."

You hum, now staring at the bath water, the water lapping at his shoulders. It makes you think of all the months he'll spend away. Forever at sea. "I've been alone before."

Jake sits up in the tub. "Not anymore. You've got me now."

"For now," you concede. "You'll leave again, and I'll okay then too." You mean that with all of the genuine honesty in the world. Jake will leave again. You'll spend many months in this house on base alone. You'll spend birthdays and holidays alone. But you'll be okay.

Jake cups your face with his damp hands, catching some of the loose hair around your face in the process. The look in his eyes is so soft, like it hurts him to admit that you're right. Not only right but okay with it. There'd been a point that Jake thought he'd just never get married. Dating in the military was tough. Separation is a guarantee and tomorrow is almost never promised.

But Jake, he'll promise you anyhow.

"I won't sit here and tell you that I'm going to be around all the time. Because I love my job. I love flying much as I love anything. But I am going to be here. You're not doing this alone, (Y/n). I won't let you."

You don't say anything at first, opting to kiss the palm of one of his calloused hands instead. "It's okay, Jake. I'm not asking you to promise me anything. This is your life too."

Jake almost rolls his eyes, not once letting go of your face between his palms. "You listen to me alright? I want this. You, this marriage, even the fucking cat. I want it all. I'm committing, okay? So you're stuck with me whether you like it or not."

Relishing in the warmth of his hands, the tender earnesty in his voice, you can't help but smile. "Even the cat?"

Jake scoffs, because of course that's what you pick up on. "Yes, kid. Even the cat."

[lanawinterscigarettes]

hi hi i saw your kinktober post and was wondering if you could write james wilson x male reader having morning/sleepy sex?

absolutely! thanks for the request <3

Kinktober 2024 Day 21: James Wilson x male reader having morning/sleepy sex

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, morning/sleepy sex, slight praise kink, handjob (reader receiving), blowjob (Wilson receiving)

It wasn't often that Wilson experienced mornings where he got to sleep in. Usually he was up bright and early, already gone off to work by the time you finally stumbled out of bed. However, he'd been working more lately and Cuddy insisted that he at least take one day off so he could get some extra rest. Not wanting to argue, he agreed, which is what led him to be spending the morning wrapped up in your arms.

For once, you found yourself waking up before he did, his chest slowly rising and falling as he laid in the bed next to you. Despite still being partially asleep, you were awake enough to have a certain problem plaguing you.

Luckily the morning wood you were experiencing hadn't gotten too bad yet, so you could instead focus on the gorgeous man beside you. One of your hands reached out to gently brush his hair back from his face, an action that startled him awake.

"Wh- What time is it?" He groggily questioned in a slight panic as he sat up some, acting as though he was worried about being late for work. You simply rolled your eyes in affection.

"Just past nine, but it doesn't matter much anyway. Cuddy gave you the day off, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," he mumbled as he laid back down, letting out a deep sigh as he tried his best to get comfortable. Unlike House, he found it difficult to just turn off his emotions and ignore all the possible patients he wasn't able to take care of while being at home.

"Hey, I think I might know of a way to help you relax," you suddenly suggested in a low and sultry voice as you moved a bit closer to him on the bed.

He glanced over at you, his cheeks tinting pink when his eyes wandered down to the visible bulge that was showing through your sleep pants. A noise escaped him that sounded almost like a flustered scoff. "Why must you do this so early in the morning?"

"First of all, it's not that early, otherwise I'd still be asleep," you corrected casually, appearing amused at the way he was acting. "Second, it was just a suggestion. You're welcome to decline it if you'd like."

"I didn't say that," he muttered under his breath after averting his gaze, trying his best to not look directly at you and the smug expression you currently had on your face. It was so easy to embarrass him in terms of sex. You were convinced it was because of just how little men he'd actually been with before meeting you.

"Would it help convince you if I promised to return the favor?" Your smirk widened into a grin at the way his cheeks went from a bright pink to a deep red in the blink of an eye.

"You're awful," he said even as he shifted a little bit closer to you on the bed, debating on whether or not he should take you up on your offer. "You promise to return the favor afterwards?"

"Of course I will. I find it hurtful that you think I wouldn't," you replied with a feigned look of offense.

Wilson rolled his eyes at your response, trying to hide his current anxiety. It wasn't that he didn't like touching you, he just felt a little awkward, as if he was worried he might end up doing something wrong.

You could tell he was feeling a little apprehensive. It wasn't anything new, so you weren't that surprised by it. "Hey," you said in a much softer tone than before as you reached your hand out to him, resting it on his shoulder as a sign of comfort. "I can help guide you, okay? You don't have anything to worry about."

He nodded his head while taking a deep breath. "Okay, okay. Sorry, I guess I'm just nervous."

"You have nothing to be nervous about, baby. We've had sex before, you know how to touch me in the ways that I like." You removed your hand from his shoulder so you could use it to slip down your pants some, just enough to pull your half-hard cock out.

Swallowing thickly as he watched you, he tentatively reached his hand out to touch it, glancing up at you to make sure what he was doing was okay.

"It's okay, you can touch me," you gently coaxed as your hand moved to his, helping to direct him wrap his hand around your cock.

The low groan of pleasure you let out at the contact boosted his confidence a little, and he slowly began to stroke you while watching to see your reactions. It helped reassure him to know he was doing a good job.

"There you go, baby, good job. You're doing so well for me," you praised in a somewhat raspy voice, one that had his own cock jolting forward in his pants. He decided to ignore it for the time being, trying to remain fully focused on you instead.

His thumb lightly brushed over your tip, smearing the milky precum a little as his fist continued its job at pumping your hard shaft. "D- Does that feel good?" He asked in a slightly hesitant manner, almost as if he expected you to say no.

You could only let out a series of grunts and moans as pleasure began to overtake your body, which gave him the answer he needed in order to keep going. The sound of you in complete and utter ecstacy over something that he was doing was like music to his ears.

He kept the same steady pace as he jerked you off, his hand only moving a little bit quicker when he could tell that you were getting close. You came not long after that, hot and sticky ropes of white cum getting on his fist.

"Sorry about that," you apologized in a relaxed manner as you grabbed the tissues off the nightstand and used them to clean up. He could never understand how you always managed to remain so nonchalant and unbothered even post-orgasm. "Your turn?"

"Um, y- yeah." He unwrapped his hand from around your cock, which was now starting to soften. Even though he'd just woken up, he was still tired, as if he hadn't slept. How he currently felt more exhausted than you did, he had no idea. Maybe Cuddy was right to give him the day off after all.

"Lay back," you gently instructed after fixing your pants again, moving to get between his legs. He did as you told him to, feeling his face flush at just how noticeable his boner was through his sleep pants. "You can relax, honey. I know how tired you must be."

As he watched you carefully pull out his cock, he couldn't help but think about just how perfect you were. All this time he was worried about trying to find the perfect woman to take care of when what he really needed was the perfect man to take care of him instead.

A throaty whine threatened to escape from him the moment he felt your lips wrap around his throbbing tip, his hands tightly clutching at the bedsheets as his cock disappeared into the warm, moist cavity of your mouth.

It felt so good, that much he couldn't deny. If there was one thing you knew how to do properly, it was give someone a blowjob, or more specifically, him.

Despite the fact you were literally sucking him off, he'd never felt more calm or relaxed in his life. His hands slowly released the sheets as he laid further back against the pillows, simply enjoying the moment. He was going to have to take days off much more often.

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[the-ace-with-spades]

the silliest of silly ideas but---i just thought despite Mav totally not being Slider's type, they'd make good fwb, and Ice would hate it. (tw: non-descriptive/implied sex)

Ice is usually very reasonable, always thinking more with facts than feelings and that sets his views into firm, neat boxes — Ron knows this, loves this about him, really, and he'd never say a bad thing about it, even if sometimes it can be infuriating.

But apparently, that whole 'go by facts not feelings' thing can also turn into being both oblivious and in denial. Maverick seems to bring it all out in tenfolds.

He's never seen someone as in denial about their feelings as Ice is about his feelings for Maverick. It's kinda sad to observe — he doesn't get the extent of the feelings they do have between each other (romantic, but what kind? the off-on kind? the short-but-intense kind? the forever-and-ever-despite-everything kind?) but he knows it's a lot and it seems like a complete waste not to act on them.

And, okay, he's not a fan of Maverick, but he's growing on him. He's a good guy, all that anger and rebelliousness is just so intense for him because there's not much space to fit all in (he's a tiny guy) and Ron is kind of almost fond of it now. Never to the degree Ice is, but honestly, he doesn't think anyone can be as fond of Maverick as Ice is.

Maverick is also, well, trying. He's not as in denial, and definitely not as oblivious to Ice's feelings toward him, but all his attempts seemed to be either going over Ice's head or being subtly stirred away.

No wonder Maverick still goes for casual one-night stands when they go out to clubs — Ron sees all of it and he'd have also gone along with his life if his attempts at getting somewhere would meet with The Brick Wall of Denial.

"You've got feelings for him, man," he tells him, after another of Maverick's flirting attempts that Ice just swiftly averted, too fed up to bother with subtly.

"I do not," is Ice's automatic response. This time, though, he adds something more, "And even if I did, he's not going anywhere, is he? I can just wait until it's serious enough to do something about it."

It's more than Ron's got the past few months, and still so full of semi-reasonable thoughts that he can't doubt Ice has thought about this enough to convince himself he's right.

If almost two years of pinning isn't serious enough, Ron doesn't know what is.

"You do realize he's hooking up, like, at least twice a month, right? It's not like he's going to be waiting for you to make up your mind forever."

"They're all women and they don't mean anything to him. They're strangers, I bet he doesn't even remember their names."

He's not exactly wrong but— "Oh, so you'd make a move if he slept with a guy you know?"

"He's not going to do that, and even if, I doubt he's going to be telling left and right about it. " Then, when Ron doesn't stop giving him the side-eye, he adds, "No, this means no, I wouldn't."

Ice is right, Maverick isn't going to be telling anyone if he sleeps with a guy, but he can fucking tell Ice is boiling at the mare idea. So this formulates a plan in Ron's head — there's only one way for Ice to see Maverick sleep with a guy and that is if this happens in their own house.

At this point, he'll try anything, and it's not like this is going to be a hardship.

Ron is an equal opportunity kind of guy — or any opportunity kind of guy, more like — but he isn't able to say he's thought of Maverick that kinda way. One, because Ice is his best friend and although he's in denial, he's got dibs, and two, because Ron's type for guys is usually more of tall and lanky and more fun and laid back. Though Maverick isn't hard to look at and Ron can bet he's got the skill to back up all the hook-ups he's had, so well, again, it's not going a hardship, it's going to be a fun night. Sex always is, as long as whoever you're doing it with isn't a terrible person.

It's just a matter of getting Maverick on board.

Which is easier than he thought. He approaches him on Friday, leaning over Maverick's cubicle in the office, when everyone is already on their lunch break so there's no one around.

"So, you up for something casual?"

Maverick doesn't even look up at him. "What kind of casual?"

"The kind of casual you were going to have tomorrow night," he supplies. He's not going to try too hard.

Maverick raises his head, eyebrows up and he looks at Ron like he's lost his goddamn mind. "With—With you?"

And okay, he didn't need to say it like that.

"Yeah," he just says. When Maverick's expression doesn't change, he adds, "Come on, you can't tell me you don't like what you looking at."

Maverick leans back in his chair, neck straining as he gives Ron a long once over. He chews on his lip as his eyes go up and down as he judges whether Ron is up to some of his fucking standards.

Finally, he just says, "Time and place?"

Ron smirks. "My place, seven-thirty, tonight."

"And Ice is not going to... mind?" God, Maverick almost sounds hopeful that he would mind.

"Nah," he replies. "He knows about, you know."

He doesn't tell Ice anything, not even when they're back home. He only needs to say, "Hey, I'm going to have someone over tonight," and Ice just packs his book at around seven and shuts off in his room.

Maverick arrives on his motorbike and Ron takes him to his room as soon as they're inside. It's been a while since he slept with a guy and he's, well, he'd never admit it but he's a bit worked up for the night.

There are a couple of snarky comments about how Ron tidied up and how he's put fresh sheets on — Ron is nothing but classy, alright — and they set up some rules and dos and don'ts and Maverick goes straight to the point.

Kissing with their height difference is a bit difficult on Ron's back so they don't waste time and move onto Ron's bed.

He doesn't know why he's surprised that Maverick is loud, but he is, and he thought he'd find it annoying, but it's actually doing things to him.

It's not unusual for Ron to bring hook-ups to their house and Ice is used to it — but guys are sparse since it's simply easier and safer to have casual sex with women — so Ice only bangs on the wall they share at the noises once and then puts on a some jazz record way too loud.

All it does is make Maverick roll his eyes before they continue.

It is a fun night. Ron is surprised how not awkward it is — Mav is very good with his mouth and hands and hips and just in general. He responds to Ron's moves like they're fighting to prove who is better but it also gives Ron great, great satisfaction when he finally lets him lead.

He's in bed the same he's in a plane — overly passionate, making a competition out of something that shouldn't be a competition, and a bit crazy. Sex works for them as well as it could for two people who have no feelings for each other — they had a goal and were both amazing at fulfilling that goal. It's hot and intense and all the things Ron's been missing in sex in the past few months.

They do it once, fall asleep, wake up at around one in the morning, do it again, also waking up Ice with it, and then fall back asleep.

He wakes up in the morning and Mav is not there, but his clothes are. He meets Ice, coming out of the bathroom, wet hair floppy on his forehead, and when he gives him a look and asks, "Busy night, huh?" Ron only shrugs.

They notice Mav in their kitchen at the same time and he can see how Ice's whole body tenses up.

It wouldn't be that unusual of a sight — Maverick knows where their spare key is and uses it to let himself in whenever he and Ice go out jogging in the strangest hours of the day possible. What makes Ice freeze like a deer in headlight, or his cool and collected equivalent of it, is that Mav is wearing Slider's Dire Straits t-shirt only, which is way too big on him, the collar sliding down to reveal the hickeys Ron's left on his lower neck and collarbone. It covers him up to mid his thighs and this and his messy hair and distinctive lack of pants are speaking for themselves.

"Morning," is all Maverick says as he continues making his coffee.

Ron bites down the grin at Ice's clenched fists.

Ice blinks and then blurts out at Mav, "Why are you wearing Sli's t-shirt?" And nothing else, is kinda implied in the way his tone turns slightly higher.

"What? I wasn't about to wear my own, I smell like a sweat bucket and Ice was in the shower," Mav explains.

Ice takes a deep breath through his nose as he continues to give Slider a side-eye.

"You...stayed over," Ice says slowly, addressing Mav.

"Yeah?"

"At Slider's...?"

"Yeah?" Mav replies once more, a bit weirded out now, looking way too comfortable for someone who looks well-fucked-out and better than half-naked in someone else's kitchen. "I just forgot to bring a change of clothes, it won't happen again, duh."

Ice's face is blank as he asks, "... Again?"

Ron is nothing but a man of an opportunity and a shithead so he says, "I wouldn't oppose if we made it a regular thing."

"You're joking," Ice spits out.

"I mean, why not? Maybe try to buy some earplugs, Ice," Mav says, shrugging and taking his coffee. "I'm going to shower now."

"Next Friday?" Ron pops at him before he's out the kitchen doorway.

Ice slaps his side but he ignores him.

"Saturday," Mav counters. "I'm taking Bradley and Carole out on Friday."

He disappears in the hallway and Slider hears their heavy bathroom door opening and closing with a bang.

Ice's stare is perfectly leveled on him, the equivalent of a glare for him.

"What? You said you wouldn't care."

"Mav isn't just—He's my—I—him—I—" Ron raises an eyebrow at him. "Ugh."

He might be gloating, just a bit, because people rarely get The Iceman cornered, and he's managed it. He is aware there isn't anything Ice can say without sounding like a jealous, pinning idiot.

"I'll keep sleeping with him until you get a grip," he tells Ice when Mav is out of their earshot.

"Slider," Ice says through his teeth.

"He's really good in bed, so who knows, maybe it'll be months or years of fun?"

Ice's expression doesn't change, he's too collected to show anything but his face is red, just a bit, and Ron doesn't know if it's because he's pissed off or embarrassed, and he doesn't care. He needs to get a grip and ask Maverick out and in the meantime, well — Maverick is a good and very convenient lay.

"Speaking of which, I need to change my sheets."

Ice breaths through his nose again. Ron gives him a month and if he's still a coward in denial, he'll ask Maverick out on an actual date and see how that will work on Ice.

[navybrat817]

Soiled

Pairing: Motocross!Curtis Everett x Female Reader Summary: Curtis can't stand you. At least, that's what he tells himself. Word Count: Over 820 Warnings: Very mild eventual enemies to lovers, quick judgement, light banter, Curtis doesn't want to admit he wants you. Motocross!Curtis Everett (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Meet Rusty and Princess! My first time writing for Curtis. Excited to dive into their eventual romance. Thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for looking this over, @buckyownsmylife for the Rusty nickname, and @nocturne-pisces for previous discussions. Any and all mistakes are my own. Header by yours truly, banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ❤️

Curtis Everett couldn’t stand you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

When he wasn’t racing or practicing, he worked at the salvage yard that your father owned. He didn’t mind the work and the pay was decent.

Between his job and the tracks, he was bound to be surrounded by dirt and grime.

While he enjoyed working for your dad, who showed time and again that he was a hard worker who respected his employees, you were a different story.

The first time he spotted you at the yard, you walked toward the office with a casual sort of haughtiness that made him sneer.

Your purse likely cost more than his entire paycheck, as did the rest of your outfit.

Glancing at your manicured nails as you stopped walking, he wondered if you ever worked a day in your life.

A princess amongst peasants. He knew the type all too well.

“Excuse me,” you said, sliding your sunglasses down to stare at him with a cool, assessing gaze when he didn’t say anything. “Excuse me.”

“What do you want?” Curtis asked, thankful that it wasn’t his customer service skills he was paid for.

“You’re kind of standing in front of the door and I’d like to go inside.”

“Please, tell me you’re not applying for a job here,” he said before he could stop himself, looking you up and down. “You’re a little overdressed.”

He did not sweep his gaze over you because he found you attractive.

You lifted your chin with a grin. “I have a job, thanks. I’m actually here to see my dad.”

Curtis glanced at the door over his shoulder before looking back at you. “Your dad?”

“Yeah, my dad,” you said, taking a cautious step forward, like you were afraid you’d scuff your shoe. “He owns this place.”

Looking you over again, he couldn’t imagine you as the boss's daughter.

Your blue collar father who tore it up on the track before he stopped racing years ago didn’t seem like the type to raise a spoiled brat.

To be fair, Curtis didn’t actually know if you were a brat. He knew better than to judge a book by its cover.

But he already placed you in the “first class” section of his mind.

Too good for someone like him.

“So, may I please go inside?” you asked, sliding your sunglasses back up. “You’re still standing in front of the door.”

“By all means, princess,” he said, taking a bow before he stepped to the side.

You scoffed as you brushed past him, the sweet scent of your perfume lingering in the air. “Aww, if I’m a princess, does that make you my brave knight?”

“Not a chance,” he muttered, torn between purposely bumping into you to get your clothes dirty or shoving you against the door and kissing you.

No, he was not going to think of how your lips would taste. He refused.

“That’s too bad,” you said over your shoulder. “So nice to meet you, Rusty.”

“My name is Curtis,” he said through his teeth, wondering why he bothered correcting you.

“Tell that to the name on your shirt and the dirt on your face. Bye, Rusty!” you said, shutting the door behind you.

"It's Curtis!" he shouted, snatching the hat off his head and almost throwing it in frustration.

He vented later that day to Daisy, one of his only female friends.

“Just because she dresses well doesn’t mean she’s stuck up. Maybe she just likes to look nice."

"No, she's a stuck up pretty princess," he argued.

"You just called her pretty."

"When are you gonna ask Steve out?" he asked, changing the subject because he refused to focus on the fact that you were pretty.

No, he already made his mind up about you.

It didn’t matter that you started stopping by the yard more to bring your dad and the crew food, which he grudgingly accepted after Edgar gave him a hard time.

"She's just sucking up," Curtis said, wiping his hands before he grabbed a sandwich.

"It's working," Edgar said with a mouthful of food.

It never once got under his skin that you still called him “Rusty” with a smirk whenever he called you "Princess".

"You know my name, Princess. Watch where you're stepping."

"Careful, Rusty," you teased. "I'll start to think you care if I get dirty."

And it didn't mean a thing when you stepped into the office late one night to help sort your dad's paperwork when he had to leave early.

Which was the first time he saw you look less than perfect when he caught you wiping a stray tear away as you headed back to your car.

He thought of calling after you to see if you were okay, but he didn't. He was probably seeing things.

Besides, it wasn't any of his business. You weren't his girl.

A princess like you never would be.

What do we think, lovelies? And, yes, Daisy is another reader who is totally crushing on Steve Rogers. Curtis approves. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Dialed In Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[rhiannswork]

Hello ! I hope you're well! request for tasm!peter parker x reader :)

It's nighttime and Reader has a nightmare about her own death or something, and wakes up in a panic. Reader decides to go to her boyfriend Peter's even though he's not home, to at least feel safe in his bed. She goes back to sleep at his place. And some time later there's a fire or something at her place, and Peter panics when he hears that her building is on fire. Hours later he goes home depressed and dejected that he hasn't seen her, doesn't know if she's safe. And he sees her on his bed.

Sorry if this is too precise ahah feel free to change it to your liking!

safe and sound || p. parker ( tasm )

an: i loved this request so much. this fic might seem rushed tho, so sorry!!!!

warnings: nightmare, burning building, breaking and entering ??, umm anxiety, blood. lmk if i missed smth

it was the middle of the night, you woke up on the couch. you don’t remember falling asleep there but then again, you were ready to fall asleep anywhere really once you gotten home from work.

you sluggishly walked back into your room, your eyes were steadily adjusting to the darkness. you had noticed someone laying in your bed, somebody who looked just like you.

your breath hitched, as you quickly turned the light on. they were completely lifeless, blood slowly pouring from their mouth. you eyed a big stain of blood on the duvet. you walked over, taking a closer look.

it was you, that was you lying in that bed. how could that be possible? you didn’t get that much time to dwell on the thought as you had been grabbed by your hair.

you took a glance at your vanity mirror as you say a tall, red, glowing figure before being flung into a corner. the figure began to grow brighter until it was red.

you felt suffocated at this moment, you didn’t know what to do. you couldn’t really move, all you could do is lay there and feel life leave your body to become vacant.

that’s when you shot up out of bed, gasping for air. you looked around your room, no glowing figure, no blood… must’ve been a nightmare.

you had a bad feeling in your gut, you didn’t want to go back to sleep, not like you could anyway. you grabbed your phone from the ground, only to realize that you phone was dead.

you got out of bed and ran over to the light switch, turning it on quicker than the actual speed of light. you packed an overnight bag, you put your toiletries in a dark blue jansport bag. along with a casual outfit.

you went to go grab your keychain, which held peters house keys on it. you decided to go there, so he could comfort you at this hour. to be honest, he was the only one that you wanted to be comforted by.

you had driven far from your apartment, going to peters home. you passed by a couple of fire trucks headed the opposite way, not paying any mind. you couldn’t take your mind off the nightmare.

you finally made it to peters home, the garage lights began beaming as the sensors spotted you. you crept up to the door and unlocked it.

the house was clean and very perfected, you were guessing aunt may had just dropped by. she cleans up every time she visits. you removed your shoes before walking any further into the house.

“peter?” you whispered, walking to the back, hoping you hear some sort of response. “peter.” you spoke sternly.

no response.

you went to his room, the first thing you noticed was peter not being there. the window was opened slightly, the cool midnight air flowing throughout the room.

nonetheless, you removed your hoodie and laid the packed bag on the floor. you laid down in the bed, picking up the faint cologne on the pillows. it didn’t take you long to fall asleep, even without peter, the comfort of his room and bedding soothed you.

meanwhile, peter had been swinging to the opposite side of town. he had heard on the police radio that he kept on his nightstand. he carried the radio with you,

he got there as fast as he could, he spotted a crowd of people. he had began walking around, trying to find your beautiful eyes and yet he never met them.

‘it’s spider-man!’ ‘hey, it’s the bug boy!’ he nodded, making his way through. he webbed up to the balcony of the apartment building.

he didn’t pay attention to the fire slowly seeping through his suit. “y/n!” he yelled. “y/n?!” he yelled louder. he specifically went down to your level. “jesus christ…” he muttered, watching the floor practically come apart.

he felt the cracking under his own feet, he tried to speed his way through the building, rushing to saftey.

he was freaking out, he called you repeatedly. it went straight to voicemail every time. he couldn’t bare to swing his way home. he had to process the last twenty minutes. he had lost you, it felt like a piece of him was taken away.

after a while, he made it back home. he took off his suit as soon as entered his home. he needed to remove that restricting suit. it was all burned and completed with holes.

he stumbled his way to his bedroom in defeat. he didn’t know what to do. he just wanted to curl up in his bed, never to leave it again.

peter opened the door to his room, the darkness surrounding him. he looked toward his bed, he noticed the lump in the bed, a familiar one.

he slowly walked over to the bed, he saw the beautiful locks he thought he’d never see again. he felt the weight come off his shoulders, you were here, safe and sound.

he crawled into bed, like he intended to do minutes before, only this time, you would be found in his arms, held closely to his chest.

[miasmaghoul]

Okay, you said you wanted non-sexual prompts, so if this is a no thats totally fine. Could you write like casual piss? I don't know how to word this. No smut involved, just domestic? If that makes sense...

anon please know that the phrase "casual, domestic piss" has been on repeat in my weird little brain since i first read this, and also that i had an idea for it immediately

god i am such a pissboy smh

anyway, here, have some soft rulti ft a little casual, domestic piss.

what a sentence.

Rain is not what you could call a morning person.

He never rouses before noon, at least not willingly, and even when he is awake he simply migrates. Shuffles out of bed and drapes himself dramatically over a sofa to doze back off until someone pays attention to him. Trying to wake Rain up before he's ready is a futile task at best, and at worst a bite risk. Generally this isn't much of a problem - mass is in the evening, there are no strictly scheduled mealtimes or chores, so Rain is free to be as slothful as his heart desires.

Even rehearsal doesn't usually interfere.

On an average day, any practice happens whenever the ghouls feel like it. There's no rhyme or reason to it, really; sometimes they have creative energy that needs expressing, sometimes Dew gets a bug up his ass about working on a solo and drags along company, sometimes Mountain gets in one of his moods and hauls Rain over his shoulder for an impromptu...rhythm session.

Point is, it's not really something that's planned. More of a casual affair, something they do every day but never the same way twice. Again, this works out perfectly for Rain. There's never a rush to start the day, and the others know by now not to expect him at anything close to a reasonable hour.

The issue arises when tours approach.

Unfortunately (for Rain), Copia has proven to be a morning person. Rain (somewhat) silently laments that fact every time Sister Imperator announces a new leg, a new cycle. Every time, Rain hopes it'll be different. That Copia will suddenly despise the idea of singing with the morning sun, that he won't expect them to be up and ready to go by 9am, can you imagine?

(It should be noted that Rain is the only ghoul that actually minds this.)

Alas, this never proves to be the case, and as soon as his phone chimed with the notification of an Imperator meeting Rain knew that his beauty sleep was soon to be severely compromised.

"Next week," Copia had said after Sister Imperator laid out the proposed itinerary. "Next week, on Sunday, we will resume our standard rehearsal schedule."

He'd handed out a list of thirty songs to each of them, a not-so-short list for the ghouls to study and provide input on. An opportunity for them to put together their own setlists to compare and contrast them with one another.

Rain had used his sheet of paper to hide his frown, dreading the fact that Sunday was only five sleeps away.

"I know that face," Swiss had teased when they left the meeting, looping a strong arm around Rain's shoulders. "Someone's being a pouty princess again."

Rain had given him a hiss, but Swiss just grinned at him in that very Swiss way and, well, Rain can never stay mad at him anyway.

"Not all of us look good with eye bags like yours" he'd grumbled, a statement that had wrung a loud ha from Swiss.

"I dunno," he'd snickered, ducking his head to knock his horns with Rain's. "You look pretty damn good when I tire you out."

Rain had rolled his eyes so hard he'd gotten dizzy, but it wasn't an accusation he could deny.

He also couldn't deny Swiss the opportunity to prove his point, and as they lay in the afterglow Rain gives a mighty yawn.

"This's bullshit," he slurs against Swiss' chest, nuzzling into the spot that smells the most like pepper and whisky and old weed. "Who even gets up that early?"

"Most of the abbey is up at dawn," Swiss chuckles, settling into Rain's lanky hold. "You're the exception to the rule, starfish."

Rain would argue, but then Swiss' purr kicks up and he's sinking his fingers into his sweat-damp waves and Rain feels little desire to do more than enjoy the way Swiss envelopes him. The way their skin sticks together with drying sweat, among other things. Swiss had given him a courteous cleanup where it mattered, but Rain's entirely too wiped out for a shower. Wonderfully sore all over, drained, and way too dehydrated to stand up for very long.

He doesn't mind it though - not when it makes him smell like Swiss too.

"Whatever," he grumbles, grabbing the covers and tugging them up over his shoulders. "S'still bullshit."

He's been fighting to keep his eyes open for the last twenty minutes or so, drifting on casual conversation and the brush of Swiss' fingertips along his bare back. Now that they're finally settling in Rain finds himself fading by the second.

"Don' wake me up'n the morning," he adds with another yawn, and the last thing Rain hears before all goes quiet is the raspy little laugh Swiss gives in return.

The next thing he hears is rushing water, creaking pipes and the telltale twitter of birdsong.

It feels like no time at all since he sunk into the peaceful realm of sleep, but when he dares to crack an eye Rain finds himself assaulted by rosy sunlight. Morning. Early, by the look of it. Rain shuts his eyes tight and groans.

"Finally," a deep voice hums, clearly amused. Footsteps pad across the floor and Rain feels the mattress dip behind him. "I've been shaking you for ten minutes."

Swiss reaches up to scratch at the base of one of Rain's horns, affectionate. Rain makes an unhappy sound, as close to a real whine as he ever gets, and Swiss gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"Why 'm I awake?" Rain hates his morning voice, all thick and inelegant. "Did I sleep 'til Sunday?"

"If that's what it takes to get you out of bed," Swiss chuffs, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind Rain's ear. "Let's go, up 'n at 'em," he encourages, regardless of continual grumbly protests. "You might as well get used to existing before lunchtime while you can."

"This is torture," Rain complains, tucking his knees up towards his chest. "Inhumane."

"Good thing we aren't human, I guess."

Rain cracks an eye open just to shoot Swiss' blurry visage a sideways glare. Swiss winks as he lifts the covers just enough to lean down and press a kiss to Rain's shoulder. He rests his chin there after, gives him a warm smile.

"C'mon, raindrop," he lilts, sneaking lithe fingers under the covers. Dragging them along the nape of Rain's neck. "I'm drawing you a bath, surely you can forgive me."

Ah, that would explain the water he can still hear. Rain blinks at him, sluggish.

"Remains to be seen," he grouses, "but it's a start."

Swiss flashes him a grin, and then those warm, cozy covers are ripped from Rain's naked body with no ceremony. He yelps as the chilly morning air hits his skin, more awake than he ever intended to be and scowling at the other ghoul.

"Oh don't make that face," Swiss teases, reaching down to give Rain's nose a gentle flick. "C'mon, I put that weird shit you like in the tub and everything."

Swiss holds Rain's ankle, rubs his thumb over the bony ridge of it while Rain sniffs at the air. Picks up notes of rosemary and peppermint, citrus and rose. The bath salts Mountain had gifted him for Yule, an energizing scent that's sure to chase the exhaustion from his muscles.

Still, he can't give in that easily.

"Fine," he pouts, stretching his legs and not at all adoring the way Swiss' fingers glide along his skin. "But only if you carry me."

The words earn him an extreme eye roll, but Swiss can't hide his amusement. He heaves a mighty sigh, cracks his neck and knuckles, and Rain most definitely doesn't watch the muscles in his arms and chest flex.

"As you command, princess."

Swiss says it with an exaggerated bow, and then he's scooping Rain up with no further preamble. Rain snickers, looping his arms around Swiss' neck and nuzzling into his shoulder. He's warm and solid, comfy, and if the walk to the bathroom was more than ten steps Rain could very easily drift off again.

As it stands, he's being set down far too soon for his liking, letting out a squeak when his bare ass meets the cold marble of his vanity. Swiss kisses him on the forehead when Rain frowns once again, giving his stomach a little tickle just to make him squirm.

"You want it hot or scalding?" Swiss asks as he strides to the tub, steam wafting around him. Rain stares unabashedly at his ass, eyes tracing the obvious bite mark he left there the night before.

"Boil me like a lobster," Rain sighs, stretching his arms over his head and trilling at the way his spine pops. Swiss gives him a thumbs up, twisting the faucet knobs while Rain yawns. "How much salt did you put in?"

"Enough to make you smell like the greenhouse for a week," Swiss replies, testing the temperature and only hissing a little at the heat. Rain takes a deep breath, taking in the herbal steam and letting it soak into his skin. "Mount'll be all over you."

"Don't sound so jealous," Rain says with a sleepy tilt, scratching at his chest, "you can share me once in a while."

Swiss snorts as he wipes his hand on the bath mat, turning back with a lazy smile on his face. Rain blows him a kiss while he swings his feet, ankles crossed, and doesn't complain when Swiss crowds him closer to the mirror ar his back. Palms planted on the vanity so he can lean in and nose at Rain's temple.

"You assume I want to share," Swiss rumbles, possessive fangs grazing Rain's jaw. It gives him the shivers in the best way, but Swiss doesn't push further. He steps back so Rain can see the sparkle in his golden eyes, the wrinkles at their corners. He's beautiful, and if Rain were in a more giving mood he'd say so. As it stands...

"You can cope," he mumbles, nose in the air, and earns another eye roll. Rain sticks his tongue out at the other ghoul just because he can, reaching for his comb to try and work out some of the knots Swiss gifted him last night. Before he can grab it, though-

"Ah," Swiss interrupts, batting at Rain's hand. Rain raises a brow as Swiss picks up the comb instead, moving to stand in front of him again. "You're playing princess this morning, remember?" He twirls the comb between two fingers, the same motion he does when he steals Mountain's sticks. "Lemme take care of you like one."

Swiss offers a roguish wink, and while some part of Rain knows that an offer like this - especially from Swiss - always comes with caveats, he can't find it in himself to argue. Blame it on sleep deprivation (nine hours isn't nearly enough), but all he can do is hum and nod.

"If you insist," he yawns, leaning forward to rest his cheek gainst Swiss' pecs, "but don't be surprised if you put me back to sleep."

Swiss' laugh resonates through his skull, dull claws scratch at his scalp, and the purr that kicks up in Rain's chest when he begins to comb is one he has no control over.

Swiss talks to him while he works, picking out every tangle he can find. Talks about everything and nothing, from the places they'll be playing this next tour, to the fitting for their new uniforms. Rain hums where appropriate, but mostly he drifts. Basks in the scratch of Swiss' chest hair against his cheek and the care with which he fixes his hair. It can't take more than a few minutes, but it feels like forever in the best way.

"Alright," Swiss eventually murmurs, stroking delicate fingers through Rain's knot-free waves. A delightful feeling that could put Rain back to sleep all on its own. "Ready for the bath, your highness?"

Rain huffs out a soft laugh, nips at his chest just hard enough to make Swiss jump. He's woozy when he sits up, half present and more than a little floaty, so relaxed he may yet melt into the sink beside him. He yawns again, smacks his lips while Swiss twirls a curl around his finger.

"Mm," Rain hums with a bleary blink. He reaches up to sling both arms around Swiss' neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Almost," he sighs against Swiss' mouth. The other ghoul pulls back, gives him a quizzical look. "Gotta pee first," Rain elaborates, shooing Swiss away. "C'mon, lemme up."

"Nah," Swiss replies, waving a hand, and it takes Rain a second to register it. He grins again, happy as a clam, and then he's hoisting Rain up by the backs of his thighs and all Rain can do is scrabble at his back with a yelp, clinging.

"What the -"

Before he can get the words out, Swiss is setting him down again, right in front of the toilet. Lets Rain get his feet under him, holding his hips until he's balanced, and then he's pressing a quick kiss to his horn. Rain blinks up at him, opens his mouth to speak, but then Swiss is turning him on the spot. Snuggling himself right up to Rain's back and hooking his chin over his shoulder, dragging the tip of his nose along the shell of his ear.

"As you wish," he croons, low, and Rain chuckles. Leans back into that broad chest and moves to aim at the bowl, eager to empty himself so he can finally slide into the herbal soup Swiss has so lovingly prepared.

Swiss grabs his wrist before he can manage it, though, and Rain just stares at it. Blinks. Swiss lifts his hand to his lips, kisses Rain's palm.

"Uh-uh," he breathes, warm against his skin, "I told you, sweetheart," another kiss, to the inside of Rain's wrist, "lemme take care of you."

Rain shivers at the feel of a large hand coming to rest low on his stomach, the one holding his wrist guiding in to rest over Swiss' own hand. Rain stares down at them, laces his fingers with Swiss', and heaves a deep sigh when Swiss' other hand slides over his hip. Tracing the line of his happy trail with two fingertips, until he reaches the soft swell of Rain's cock.

Swiss takes it in hand, aims, and Rain feels the strangest bloom of warmth in his chest.

"Go on," Swiss encourages, kissing the hinge of his jaw, "when you're done I'll even scrub your back."

"You'd do that anyway," Rain replies, and Swiss gives him a half shrug.

"A little incentive never hurts."

Rain snorts, but doesn't feel the need to argue. He takes in the way his cock looks in Swiss' hand, pale against his skin, nothing sexual about it regardless of their position. Of the way he can feel every inch of Swiss against his back, warm and comfortable and familiar. It's intimate, to be sure, but in a context Rain isn't sure he's ever felt before.

Rain offers a pleased sigh when the last drops hit the water, lets Swiss give it a couple shakes, and then he's turning in his arms. Planting a kiss on his stubbled chin.

He gives Swiss' hand a squeeze, presses it into his belly, and both of them groan when the first few dribbles leak out. It's no time before Rain can let go fully, a steady stream of relief, silly giggles escaping him when Swiss moves his dick around to draw shapes in the water. Swirls and circles and a their initials, because Swiss doesn't know how not to be a sap.

"Better?"

"Better," Rain smiles, wrapping long arms around Swiss' waist. "Now get me in that tub, I'm sick of being sticky."

Swiss laughs, gives him a squeeze, and this time Rain's expecting to be lifted.

"Such a princess," Swiss complains, lowering him into the steaming bath, and Rain groans. Swiss ruffles his hair, wasting no time in sliding into the tub behind him.

"Guess that makes you my prince," Rain mumbles, resting back against him the moment Swiss settles, and the pleased purr that rattles through his chest is almost enough to turn it into a jacuzzi.

[billthedrake]

PRE-FROSH (CHAPTER TWO)

This story is a sequel to "Dad's New Life."

We were just playing video games, enjoying the Sunday afternoon hanging out in my brother Connor's room in the SigEp house. Connor was even beating me, but I could tell he was in a pissy mood. And I had a good idea what was bugging him.

"I'm gonna hit up Daddy Mike later," I said, addressing the elephant in the room.

I heard my big brother's deep sigh. "Dude, you gonna spend your whole fucking weekend with that guy?"

I paused the game. I got along great with Connor normally but things had been building up all weekend. "Bro, what the fuck?! You want me to go to some stupid art museum with you or something, I'll do it. Otherwise, yeah I'm gonna go get laid." It was a dumb outburst and more than a little ungrateful, because Connor was the one putting me up for the long weekend. I'd been clamoring for some time away from my tiny hometown and some independence from my parents. I should be grateful to my brother.

My brother let out an annoyed sigh. Not to sell myself short, but my older bro got the looks in the family. Dirty blond, green eyes, dimples that set off his smile. I had some of that but looked more like a regular jock, not a heartthrob movie star. Moments like this, when Connor got pissy, were the only time he lost his handsome attractiveness.

"You know Mike's just a slut, right?"

I was getting annoyed now. "Yeah, fuck, I know," I growled. "I don't fucking care. At least he doesn't treat me like a kid."

"He's too busy robbing the cradle," my brother shot back. "Dude's older than Dad."

Jesus, this weekend should be about fun. And it was fun. Hanging out with my big brother, experiencing fraternity life, enjoying a real college party, and getting majorly laid. I'd gone over to Mike's condo for a quickie session Saturday afternoon, and Jase didn't say anything. But now that I was sharing morning texts with Daddy Mike and planning a repeat, his mood had turned.

"You've done him, too," I replied.

Connor was silent now. Maybe I couldn't have my cake and eat it too. I'd either be an honorary bro for the weekend, the prefrosh, or I'd be listening to my dick.

Sex with a man, an older man, was a new toy, and I was enjoying the hell out of it. It was almost addictive. Well, no "almost" about it. Still, I didn't want to relent on the prefrosh experience. Even if my brother had a date that night, it would be cool to hang out with the brothers, get high and watch dumb TV.

"I'm sorry, Connor," I said. My voice more contrite. "I'll hang out here at the house. I know you promised Mom and Dad you'd watch me."

Now my brother seemed to change attitude. He looked over at me with a look of sympathy, or understanding. "You into him, Jase?"

I shrugged. "I dunno, man," I tried to explain. "I know it's nothing real, but you know, after hiding myself through high school, it feels real nice to be with a man without any hang ups."

Connor smirked. "My little bro getting a little crushed out?" Maybe the understanding was gone, replaced by the need to tease me.

"Crushed out on a fucking 51 year old," I laughed. "So fucking stupid."

Connor nudged my arm, letting me know it was OK. "How bout this, Jase? I have my date tonight. You can go over to Mike's. Just be back by 10 or so."

I normally hated when Connor would get bossy with me, like he was my fucking parent, but I knew he was responsible for me. This seemed like a good compromise.

I probably had a dumb smile on my face when I picked up my phone to text Mike. We set up a time for me to come over.

And yeah, the man wrote some pretty lewd shit about how he was gonna take care of my dick.

****

The rest of the day was normal. Connor took me to the university gym as a guest and I had a good workout. When we got back, Connor got ready for his date - some sorority girl he met a couple weeks ago - and I realized I kind of was doing the same, showering and slicking my hair down with product. I had only casual lax-jock clothes but I figured Daddy Mike wouldn't mind. But fuck I wanted this to be a date, even if the guy was a man whore.

I did stop on the way and pick up some flowers, and Mike had a big grin when he opened the door to see me standing there with a fucking bouquet.

"Great to see ya, kiddo," he grinned, leaning in to give me a quick peck. I'd been scrolling through his social media and saw Daddy Mike used to have a mustache but now seemed to sport a continual stubble flecked with silver facial hair. And while he had a military-short buzz cut for a while, he was growing out the salt-and-pepper hair in an almost professional-banker cut, which was slicked down with product.

"For me?" he said looking at the flowers. "That's sweet buddy." He took them and then showed me inside.

I needn't worry about dressing casual. Daddy Mike had on some sweatpants that clung to his meaty ass, as well as one of his faded Chicago Bears T-shirts. I knew he was freshly showered by his damp salt-and-pepper hair and the fresh cologne smell he had.

"I like your cologne," I said as I followed him into his open plan kitchen, where he rifled through the cabinets to pull out a vase for the flowers.

Mike flashed me a grin and told me the brand. "You wouldn't believe how many guys tell me it's the one their fathers wore... it's like fucking pheromones."

When Mike had first dropped the dad-son idea with me, it kind of weirded me out, but in the course of two days I realized I was kind of getting into it. I still didn't want to fuck my actual dad or anything. But I loved how the incest idea amplified the age difference between me and Mike, and yet somehow made an emotional connection out of pure, tawdry sex.

Still, I had to ask. "Do a lot of guys you meet have Daddy issues?"

The guy placed the bouquet in the water, arranging it quickly in the vase. "Not all, but a lot do. It's fun," he said.

Part of me was self conscious he'd try to figure out if I put myself in the Daddy Issues category, but he didn't seem fazed either way. Instead, Mike stepped up to me. We were pretty matched in height. I had an inch or so on him, but he was of course bigger, beefier, and more muscular. His hands felt great on my waist as he pulled me gently toward him. "High school kid isn't as shy now is he?" Mike teased.

I felt the warmth of his body and yeah, I was getting fully hard. "Nope," I said, now taking the initiative to reach behind and dig my fingers beneath the waistband of his sweats. Unsurprisingly Daddy Mike wasn't wearing underwear and I felt the hard hairy brawn of his ass. Mike had a crazy big ass.

"Go right for the prize, buddy," Mike grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

Fuck, this guy knew how to push my buttons. Nothing tentative about his kiss, Mike was eagerly sexual and yet knew how not to go full charge with the tongue. Instinctively, I knew he was waiting for me to take charge of the kiss, so I did. I groped this 51-year-old's ass while we made out in the kitchen.

"Fuck before dinner?" Mike finally asked in a growl. He'd offered to feed me take out pizza, but indeed sex seemed more appealing just then. I nodded.

And like that we were making our way to the bedroom. Mike peeled off that beat up T and tossed it into the corner. "Almost didn't put on clothes today," he smiled, and then I watched him pull his sweats down over his thick boner, showing off how hairy his crotch and legs were.

I was feeling overdressed, catching up in stripping off my clothes as Mike pulled the covers down on his bed and climbed on, his big muscled body making the mattress dip slightly. There was a big industrial sized pump container of lube next to the bed, along with a vial of what I knew to be poppers. But mostly my gaze was on this hot stud and the way his eyes seemed to me eat up. I may have been the fucker, but Mike was the hunter and I was his prey. I was A-OK with that.

"I bet you're gonna go wild when you get back to your hometown stud," he said as he watched me push down my briefs, freeing my large hardon.

"I wish," I said. Maybe this is one thing that drew me to the man. How he encouraged me, let me think I could be balling any guy I wanted. My dick jerked hard at the idea.

"Trust me," Mike hissed. "A dick like that... and that fucking body. You're jacked as hell for 18."

"Thanks," I said. A conceited part of me knew I was a hot jock, and I certainly put in a LOT of work to build my body. But the no-nonsense complement was so different than the way buddies and I complimented each other.

I got on the bed and crawled on top of Mike's reclined frame. He welcomed me and once again, we were making out. I don't know how I learned bedroom technique, but I knew to take our time. I took charge of the kiss now and made it nice and slow, feeling up Mike's body and humping him gently. He loved that, and I felt a wild satisfaction that I was being a skilled lover with a man this experienced.

Daddy Mike had a goofy grin when I finally broke the kiss and leaned up to admire his handsome face.

"What?" I asked, with a chuckle.

"I dunno," the man said with almost a shyness. "I just... well, I've met my share of lacrosse jocks, and usually they don't have the smooth moves like you."

That made me hard as fuck. My dick twitched and leaked against his hardon. "Yeah?" I growled.

Mike nodded. "They're usually more hard charging in bed," he said.

I thrust into him and gripped his chest with one hand while I held my upper body up with the other arm. "Oh, I can do hard charging," I teased.

"I bet you fucking can, Pre Frosh."

With a determined move, I kicked apart Mike's legs with my own thighs.

"Fuck YEAH!" Mike growled.

I gave him the lustiest look I could before turning to reach over to pump out some lube. I thought of Connor's taunt earlier, than Mike was a slut. He certainly had the bedroom set up like he took on many men, regularly. But as I slicked my cock up, I didn't care. If I was getting a whore, I was getting one for free.

Mike was now doing some of the work pulling back his legs for me.

I looked down. Here was a man almost three times my age, about 230 pounds of beef splayed out for me. I could see Mike's hole. Crinkled, definitely used, a little gape to it.

I wanted to eat it. I'd never rimmed of course, but I'd seen it plenty in porn and figured the guy could tell me if he didn't want me to eat him out.

Only as I crouched down and nestled my nose in his crack, I heard a soft "hell yes, kiddo." I stuck my tongue out. The whole didn't taste of much, mostly a little of the soap Mike had used in his shower. I licked around the ring and decided I was into this, a LOT. His daddy hole was warm and inviting and practically sucked my tongue in. I pushed forward, prodding into his more tender membrane just inside. Pure clean male hole. I wondered what the dudes on the team would say if they saw me now. I used to be afraid and ashamed of being a homo, but now I wished they could watch. The wilder I went, the deeper Daddy Mike's grunts got. This was hot, nasty sex. Men's sex.

I didn't want to extend the foreplay too much the first time out, but I took my time. And when I pulled back I wiped my chin and looked up to see the sex-dazed expression on the man's face.

"Damn stud," Mike said. "You know hot to eat a cunt."

Everything about Daddy Mike's lewdness was making me turned on to stuff I never would be. Like the c-word.

"You got an incredible cunt, Daddy."

"It's yours Pre-Frosh."

I grinned and scooted into place. The fucks before had been quick ones. I mean, there was something special about losing my assfucking cherry to this man, but I already knew this mating session was going to be special. I lined up my slick rod to that slightly puffed, gaping hole and let it nestle in the indentation.

"I'm gonna be jock-fucked aren't I?" Mike was definitely a talker.

I tried to go along with the sex talk. "Well, you're a slut... so yeah."

I immediately regretted saying that once I did, though.

Thankfully Mike just chuckled. "You like sluts, Jason?" He seemed to call me everything but my real name, so it came as a surprise.

"Maybe," I grinned, glad he wasn't taking offense. Then, more assured. "Yeah."

Mike kept some of his lusty smile but his eyes swept up and down my body. "18 and hung as fuck... goddamn."

I pushed into him. The slut hole was not tight but it didn't clamp down some as I entered him. It was exquisite, warm and wet. "I'm not the biggest you've taken, am I?"

He shook his head. "Let's say top 5, kiddo. You're really fucking big." Then he added, "Your brother, too."

That made my nostrils flare. Mike could tell my reaction immediately.

"You got the hots for your big brother?" he asked. That no-nonsense lewdness going straight to my balls.

"I dunno," I answered truthfully. "Fuck!"

Mike reached up and touched whatever parts of my body he could reach in our position. "Would be so hot to be tag teamed by you two," he growled.

Fuck, I wanted this. Wanted to nail this hot beefy daddy. I shoved my cock deeper in, slding into Daddy Mike's depths.

"There ya go, Pre Frosh.... hit that fucking spot."

"Your ass is amazing," I said.

"Hold it stud," Mike hissed, wincing some at my size. "Fuck you're a big boy." I watched that muscle bunch and flex as he twisted his body to pick up some poppers. I held still, buried deep inside him as he took one hit, then another on the other nostril, plus one more for good measure. He set the bottle aside then nodded. "OK, buddy, go for it."

I started fucking him. I realized he didn't have the warm up like the the other day in the frat house and our Saturday morning hook up had been all oral.

We were making up for that now. I put more energy into my thrusts, getting into it, getting into the thrill of dominating this hot fucker.

Mike was still in encouraging mode. "God you're fucking huge.... fuck me man.... That spot is yours, kiddo. All yours. Yours and your brother's."

That made my nostrils flare. No poppers needed.

"That turn you on, Jase?"

I nodded, afraid that if I answered aloud I'd cum. I didn't stop my fuck but I slowed it just a litte, trying for slower deeper pumps.

"You both got amazing dicks," Mike teased, "But you're a hotter dude." He was holding on to my hips now, pulling me in with each pounding thrusts. It must have felt hard on his guts, but I was too into this, and Mike wasn't asking me to stop or ease up.

He watched intently now. His own prick was rock hard but all of his attention and energy was focused on me. Looking up pleadingly as I railed him. "Hot firecracker of a top... just 18 too... fuck," he hissed.

I felt like the studliest guy in the world just then.

"You getting ready to give me that load, kiddo?"

I nodded. "Yah. Fuck." My hips had lost that determined hard pace and now were just going back to fast and furious.

"Get it Pre Frosh. Get it right in Daddy's hole."

That did it. "Shit!" I yelled. I was cumming and the excited smile on Mike's face made me cum even harder. My whole body spasmed and jerked over him as he watched me orgasm. I felt almost embarrassed at how out of control I'd gotten. Then proud.

I finally smiled as my hips stopped and I caught my breath. "Can I get you off, Mike?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Later. I'm hoping there's a later," he winked.

"Yeah, there's a later," I assured him. I told Connor I'd be back around 10, but there was still plenty of time.

We both watched as I slowly pulled out. My dong was no longer erect but it had a lot of hardness still as it cleared Mike's ring and plopped out heavy and wet.

"Hot," he said. "You're a better fuck than your brother too."

I thought I'd be upset at the constant comparison to Connor, but I was actually eating it up. "Yeah? That's cool," I said.

"Ready for some food?" Mike asked as he slid his body out of bed. "You earned it, fella."

I took up Mike's offer for a shower while he ordered some pizza. When I dried off and stepped back out into the master bedroom naked, the man was dressed back in his sweats and Bears T-shirt. And he had a pair of football shorts in his hand.

"These should be your size, fella," he grinned.

I'd worn jeans so something to lounge in was welcome. I had a feeling we'd be fooling around again soon.

I took the offering and slipped them on. "You carry spare shorts for your dates?" I laughed. Not accusing, more amused.

He nodded. "You bet I do, stud. Lots of dudes want a Daddy Mike souvenir. They're yours to take if you want 'em."

I decided not to bother with a T-shirt. Mike was still chubbed in his sweats and his eyes were very approving as he sized up my younger build in the shorts. If the fuck hadn't been enough I was very glad I'd come over.

The Bears game was already on the big screen TV, muted, though as we sat on the couch, Mike picked up the remote and turned up the volume. "Hope you don't mind, Pre Frosh, but this is always part of Date Night on game day." He leaned forward and pulled a tall can of beer toward him, opening the tab and nodding to a matching one in front of me. "You strike me as a beer dude..."

"Yeah," I grinned, glad for the offering. After the hot sex it was the perfect thing. This wasn't the watery shit they served in the SigEp house either.

In a strange way this was a perfect date with another man. I placed my arm around Daddy Mike's beefy shoulder and felt his warm body accept my embrace. I followed football and was a Bears fan, but Mike was a fanatic. Screaming, yelling at half the botched plays and the ref calls. Getting red in the face even. It was adorable.

The pizza came, and we ate silently, watching the game, talking during the commercials. I hadn't realized how hungry I was but I scarfed that shit down. Mike made a good dent, too. He got us another beer. We watched more football. The Bears took the lead.

Maybe it was the proximity to this stud of a daddy. Or maybe it was just my natural recovery time doing its work. But I began boning up.

Mike noted and leaned into me, giving me a smirk. He pulled out his phone.

"Selfie?" he asked.

I got a deer in the headlights look. I thought of my parents finding out. Or my lacrosse buddies. "Fuck, man, I can't," I said.

He smiled. "Don't worry, Jase, buddy... no faces. Promise."

I relented. I sure as hell hoped I could trust this guy. I thought of Connor's own suspicion of Mike's motives. "OK."

He pulled the phone up to a classic selfie distance and snapped a pic. "This might just be for my personal collection," he said. Then he reversed direction and aimed it at our crotches. Mine particularly.

"I just like showing off when I find a hot stud," Mike said.

I'd scrolled through his Insta. The man was being understated now. There were a fuck ton of young dudes posing with Daddy Mike. But I felt proud to join the ranks.

During the commercial he fiddled with his phone and then showed me his latest Twitter post. "Game day Date Night with Pre Frosh," the caption read. And sure enough the pic was of my boned up crotch, my long thick ridge pushing up the material of those Bears football shorts.

"Fuck," I said.

"I can delete it," he offered.

"Fuck no," I replied.

The made him grin. "You shouldn't hide a dick like that for sure. Top five," he reminded me. "Midwestern boys are hard to beat."

I basked in the compliment. My hardon wasn't going away, but I enjoyed the feeling of being hard around this guy without the urgency of getting off just yet. I knew it would come.

We settled back into the game and pretty soon the second quarter was drawing to a close. Even before halftime came though, Mike pressed the screen of his phone, then handed it to me. It was recording video, I could see. "You're the cameraman, kiddo," Mike growled.

"For what?" I asked.

"Guess," he winked. And like that he got off the couch and got down in front of me. I spread my legs to give him room and then after a second of surprise aimed the phone to capture Daddy Mike looking up, lewdly pawing my crotch before pulling the elastic over my hard dong. I was long enough that my cock had been constrained diagonally in the shorts, but now it jerked up to a full standing position off my light treasure trail and abs. I knew I was hung, and Mike had been reminding me of that fact, but damn... watching myself on the phone camera, with Mike's face leaning into lick me, I looked big.

I recorded Daddy Mike slow teasing my prick then taking me into his talented mouth. You could even see the Bears game in the background as I started to get a blowjob. It was hard to hold the phone steady as Mike went further down on me, but I did my best.

It was four minutes of glorious head. Thankfully our fuck earlier had taken the edge off and I could enjoy the silky wet sensations of his mouth and throat working me up and down as well as the thrill of seeing him struggle to deep throat me at one point.

He finally pulled off and let my big cock slip out wet between his lips. "OK, kiddo..." he said. "You can turn it off."

I nodded and Mike gingerly slipped my shorts back on, tucking my hard dong back into its diagonal position and patting my thigh before standing up. "Save the rest till later?" he asked.

"Yeah," I nodded enthusiastically. "That was hot," I said.

"I'm glad fella," he said looking down on me. "Gonna go piss.... need anything?"

I wondered if I should ask for another beer, but I was still working on the second and didn't want to get too drunk. We had more sex ahead and I really wanted to enjoy it to it's fullest. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks."

Halfway through the third quarter, I felt my phone buzz. It was a text from Connor.

"Hey Jase. Date was a fucking bust. Stay out as long as you like. Sorry I was an ass earlier."

I smiled. Me and my brother could butt heads sometimes but we could also be tight as good buds, too.

I looked over at Mike, who was engrossed in a challenged ref call. I thought of what he'd said earlier. It was a crazy idea, but deep down I knew it would be a blast if Connor went for it.

"If you feel like coming over, I'm sure Mike could take care of you," I typed.

"Ha, that'd be weird," Connor wrote. The tough thing about text is you can't always tell what someone is thinking.

"Maybe. But hot," I typed. I realized now how invested I was in this fantasy of having a threesome with Connor. Even if we fucked Mike separately, I wanted to fuck on my big brother's spunk again, like that first afternoon in the house.

"Jesus." Connor typed. Then, "You sure, bro?"

"Yeah, C" I wrote. "Very sure." I was boning as I typed. Maybe I was thinking with my dick, but I wanted to see this happen now.

I didn't hear back from Connor, though. Not until the 4th quarter.

"What's the address?" he typed.

I figured I should ask Mike to double check. "Hey," I said. "We you serious about my brother?"

The man was very much in that "don't bother me, I'm watching the game" mode, but I guess this question was an exception.

"Um yeah. Why do you ask, stud?"

I grinned, since I was the one with the big surprise to spring. "He's wanting to come over. Not sure what he's comfortable doing, though."

Mike smiled. Up close I could see that salt-and-pepper in his stubble. "Just as long as he doesn't mind sloppy seconds, kiddo... you let me pretty loaded up earlier."

And like that he was kissing me softly, lots of tongue, till he pulled it back and let me take charge of the kiss.

I pulled back and texted my brother the address. I was boned as fuck now. I hope I hadn't made a mistake, but Connor and I could figure it out later if it got too weird.

My brother must have been hard up and his Uber made good time, because it wasn't long before Mike's buzzer rang. I watched the beefy daddy get up and go over to answer, then let my brother up.

I stayed on the couch, trying to keep my attention to the final moments of the game, but I heard the door open and Connor's voice from the other room. "Hey," he said, half laughing, half nervous.

"Come in, bud," came Mike's deep voice. There was some whispering, then two of them walked in, Mike's paws on Connor's shoulders, half massaging the delts, half guiding him inside.

"Your brother here prefers it one-on-one time... OK with you studly?" he winked.

I nodded, daring to catch Connor's gaze. He now knew I was up for a threesome and I felt exposed in my perverse desire. His eyes though were reassuring, telling me he wasn't mad. Just uncomfortable with going all the way.

"Yeah, cool," I said, passing it off. "Have fun Connor."

"Yeah," my brother laughed. A little embarrassed. Maybe he felt weird to be angling in on his little bro's fuck date. Or maybe he didn't like me seeing that he wasn't as 100 percent straight as he maybe considered himself.

But Mike led him to the bedroom. Thank god he kept the door open. Maybe that was a gift to me, but Daddy Mike was a total exhibitionist, it didn't surprise me.

I heard more whispers, then Connor's excited sex grunts. They were taking their time but pretty soon I heard fucking. Connor's higher pitched groans and Mike's booming voice. "Fuck me, guy! Punch my guts! Yeah... right fucking there buddy.... Make Daddy proud!"

Jesus. Maybe Mike did the Dad talk with all the guys he hooked up with, but the idea that Connor had incestuous fantasies about our Dad was pretty wild.

I slipped down my shorts. I didn't out right jerk off, but I slowly massaged my huge bone, feeling the sap of my precum wet down my length.

I was so distracted I didn't hear them stop. But Mike spoke to me, his naked furry body looking magnificent, his dick standing straight up and dripping. "Hey kiddo... your big bro says it's Ok if you wanna join." Not pressuring me but offering.

I let go of my cock instantly. I could have nutted the idea was so intense. "Yeah," I answered and got up off the couch. I kicked off those Bears shorts and sauntered in, fully hard to join them.

There was a camera set up on a tripod, and another angled from the side. Fuck. I found the idea didn't bother me. Not if Connor was OK with it.

There was my big brother. Not as big as me body wise, but older and looking more collegiate. Handsome, cute, beautiful, I don't even know the right word. He forced a smile but seemed genuinely turned on by seeing me walk in. "Damn, Jase," he said. "You're a fucking porn star..."

I was used to the Daddy Mike treatment, but the ego boost from my big brother was something else. "Literally..." I laughed, nodding to the cameras.

Mike got on the bed to join my brother. "No faces, like I said fellas. And I'll let you approve before I post. But damn, a brother scene is special."

I then watched as Daddy Mike leaned over and started sucking my brother's lubed, throbbing cock.

"Oh FUCK!" Connor hissed, keeping his eyes on me. Then, "Hope you don't think less of me, bro."

I got up on the bed, lying next to Connor. Not trying to spook him or anything, but I wanted to be close to him and get a good view of him getting head. "What do you think I've been doing all weekend."

His eyes were going back from watching Mike suck him and back up to look at me. "Guess you really took to it, huh?"

I nodded. "Thanks for letting me, Connor," I said. My head inched forward, and his inched toward me too.

We were kissing. Brother on brother kiss. I didn't even know if Connor kissed guys. Maybe he didn't. But he was kissing me now. Tongue and all. It was different than Mike's kissing. Less sexual and maybe less romantic. But very skilled.

My prick jerked wildly. I didn't even know what the attraction to Connor was about, but I was very into the taboo of it.

Daddy Mike was sucking me now, pinching the base of my prick to keep me from cumming. Connor pulled back from our kiss to watch.

"You have a huge dick, Jason," he said. "Bigger than mine."

"Not by a lot," I said. "I love your cock, Connor."

He grinned. And like that we were kissing again. And Daddy Mike went back to suck Connor. Then me.

Then Mike pulled off. "Goddamn," he hissed. "Two fucking brothers," he growled.

I thought he'd go back to sucking Connor but instead he scrambled up and straddled my brother's waist, reaching back to guide the big dong into place.

"Fuck yeah!" Mike cried as Connor breached that slut hole again. By now both of us had opened up Mike's hole for business and the man didn't take long in being able to bounce up and down on a solid seven inches of Connor's meat. Then further... down to the pubes.

He looked over at me with an impish look on his face. "Wanna make Date Night complete, kiddo?" he asked.

I didn't know what he meant, and it showed on my face.

I could tell Daddy Mike was enjoying the hell out of this. Being wantonly sexual with two younger men, but also running the show. He cocked his head some. "Get back behind me and join your big brother up there."

I thought I'd cum, hands free. As it was my dick spurted out a healthy wad of milky precum. Maybe I wouldn't last in my first DP but I'd try this while the invitation stood.

I scrambled into place, feeling up Mike's strong meaty back and seeing the slight love handles from his beefiness as he wiggled his ass some on Connor's lap and then sat perfectly still. Waiting for me.

The entry was tough, but my cock was steel hard and very wet. I worked open the ring and after a half minute I was slipping inside him. Next to Connor.

"Jesus Christ!" my brother gasped. He could feel it, my prick sliding alongside his. It was tight, very tight wedged up inside Mike's guts, and it got tighter the more I pushed in.

"God fucking damn," Mike hissed. A lot of discomfort along with a clear sexual excitement. I worried now, because I couldn't see Mike's face to know when it was too much for him.

"Connor..." I said. "Tell me if I need to slow down," I said.

"Yeah," I heard my brother reply. My hands were on Mike's hips now, and I felt my brothers fingers touch over them. It was wild and hot. "Fuck him, Jase."

I did. Slow, deep. It was becoming my signature move, only Mike was feeling with two O'Brien dongs inside him at once. Double dicked, brother fucked.

The lewdness inspired me to give the best fuck I could. Fucking not only for Mike but for Connor too. I wanted my big bro know I was grown up for real.

Remarkably, even though I was doing the thrusting, Connor was the one who came first. "Oh Christ," he hissed loudly and I felt the slickness of my brother's seed flood around my cock. It was hot and magnificent. In a fucked up way I loved my brother, and that realization had me shooting hard. All around Connor's prick and really fill up Mike's bowels.

The big man was now tensing in my grip and I gathered he was having his deep orgasm now. Delayed from earlier, Mike was now nutting super heavy. His body hot as I leaned into him and whispered in to his ear. "Go for it, Dad... come with your boys inside you..." He practically cooed when I said that.

There was no small amount of awkwardness when we unpaired, but I didn't give a fuck. I felt like a stud and a half and I wasn't in the mood to feel apologetic or hesitant for enjoying that threesome.

Mike went to wash off. It was crazy to see the confident sure bottom walk dazed and still out of it to the master bathroom.

Connor seemed quiet, almost sulky, but I gave him a playful punch to the arm. "Come on, bro... it's cool. We're just having fun, OK?"

That seemed to calm him some and he flashed me a little smile. "OK, Jason.... but not a fucking word to anyone about this, OK?"

"Chill, dude," I said. "Of course I'm not gonna tell anyone."

We got dressed and pretty soon Mike was out, slipping on those sweat pants again.

"Damn fellas... guess you should be careful what you ask for huh? You guys really worked over my ass, all right."

Connor smirked. I probably did too.

"We should go," my brother said. Looking over at me in his bossy big-bro mode. I think he thought I'd try to sleep over at Mike's.

"Well thanks for a fuck I'll remember for a long time," Mike said. Laid back as hell. I decided whoever I ended up with would need to be open about sex. Maybe not as open as Daddy Mike, but I preferred this to all the doubts I'd had over the last few years. It was a breath of fresh air.

Mike stepped up and gave Connor a soft kiss. My brother accepted it, to my surprise. Then Mike kissed me. "Enjoy the rest of your visit, Pre Frosh," he whispered. "And hit me up. Anytime."

"Yeah," I muttered, my heart pounding a little. I was a little embarrassed now for Connor to see me crush out on a man who was clearly just in it for a lay. "Thanks, Mike."

Connor and I were quiet on the Uber ride back to campus and the fraternity house. But when we settled into his room, he pulled out a bong and we got high. And he relaxed some.

"So... you into older guys, Connor?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe not exclusively, but I'd love to date one... see what it's like.... guess I have to wait for college though.... fuck!" The reality of my hometown was coming back to me. Parents. School. My team.

Connor seemed concerned. "I got your back Jason. You know that, right?"

"Thanks, Connor," I said.

It was half the pot speaking, but my brother looked handsome as fuck just then. I hoped he found a good girlfriend, he was good looking enough to be choosy.

Connor smirked. "Thanks for inviting me tonight... guess I really needed a good lay."

"Glad you were cool with it," I said. "Hope I didn't fuck things up."

He shook his head. "You've just surprised me this weekend, that's all." He took another toke, held it in and blew it out, all while keeping his eyes on me. "My fucking lacrosse jock brother," he laughed.

I laughed too.

[gayometer]

Hi! Sooo, I was browsing the # of snv/ror x reader and found your blog. - I loved! I was wondering if I could get some headcanons for Gods and Humans w/ a strong personality y/n? Like the idfg y/n, pls. Sorry for my bad english & kisses from Brazil! ^ - ^ [ btw, could you please tag me if you do? My Tumblr aren't showing me notifications those days T v T ]

Not tired, just doesn't care

Glad you like my blog! Your english is fine! Kisses from P.R. ❤

💚Ask💚

💚 @msnightmare777 💚

POSEIDON who tries his best to not show his frustration, how dare a mere human like you be so casual about him? It takes him a while to understand it's not disrespect it's friendship and you just have a strong personality, tough love if you will.

HADES who sees so many similarities between you two yet so many differences, you're not mean you can be pretty caring. But the way you so casually talk and even slap gods is amusing to him.

ADAMAS who tried to be all angry and grumpy with you but ended up being the biggest puppy. He comes to you when Hades isn't available, he doesn't know what it is but you kinda remind him of his big brother.

ZEUS who pokes fun at you just cause he knows you won't do anything, he doesn't try to "break" your facade and annoys you the same way he does Odin....by making you babysit him and essentially give him scary dog privileges.

APHRODITE who tries to get any reaction out of you, she isn't used to someone looking at her and not at least smiling.

HERMES who pokes you just for fun, he says it's to get a reaction out of you but we all know he does it for the funsies.

HERACLES who rants to you about anything that comes to his mind, he likes your strong personality and how you so casually talk to him, it's a breathe of fresh air.

ARES who started off with seeing you as a disrespecting mortal to then come to the conclusion that you're a glorified babysitter taking care of beings much older then yourself, including him.

LOKI who bugs you on a daily to try and get a reaction out of you, he obviously fails miserably but at least give him points for effort. He hasn't had this much trouble with a mortal since Jack bamboozled him about tea.

THOR who doesn't pay much attention to you, he doesn't mind your "attitude", high chance it's Forseti causing more noise about respect then Thor himself.

ODIN who much like Thor doesn't mind all that much about hoe indifferent you are however, unlike Thor he has limits. His crows are still the ones causing way too much noise about respect and shit, but if he does eventually get bothered by the "disrespect" he'll just get up and leave. He's not a child and can leave places if he feels like it, so shut up you two bird brains.

SHIVA who can and will make you join him and Rudra dance. He also tries to break your facade but that doesn't work. Shiva is pretty chill about most things but is still slightly irked that you have absolutely no reaction to being face to face with a god that uses the earth as his animal crossing island.

BUDDHA who just vibes under a tree with you, you both don't talk and just enjoy being close to each other.

ZERO who is basically your unofficial child, he's the only one who can make you break away from the tough love and "indifference" just by being himself.

BEELZEBUB who tries to keep his distance from you since he's afraid he'll get attached. He doesn't hate you, he just doesn't want to kill his new friend.

SASAKI who's normal cheery and laid-back attitude made you gravitate to him. His grandpa vibes give you more then enough comfort.

QIN who is adamant in making you his friend, no you can't escape him and the power of friendship shall be blasted upon thou.

ADAM who has the same nature and therefore doesn't mind, you're his child and that's that.

TESLA who took your silence as the greenlight to go on a rant about science and his latest inventions, you two have an odd friendship, he rants and you listen.

LU BU who normally wouldn't go out of his way to befriend some, but he hasn't had someone who doesn't run or worship him immediately in a while. Can you fight? Cause he wants to fight you.

RAIDEN who takes his time to stare at you, he yaps your ear off but he's also staring at you without blinking to make sure you don't "make a cute face" without him seeing....apparently it's not fair Thrud can see you crack a smile or giggle.

JACK who would normally stick to himself will try to socialize with you, he ended up enjoying you silent company and is one of the few who managed to get a smile and full sentence out of you.

[pouralaura]

reflection

a small helping of psychosexual fluff featuring my Tav (Eris) and the devil she knows.

Her hair is too long, yes – but perhaps the perfect length for this purpose. A murmured incantation coats her hand with sweet-smelling oil, and she slicks her short-but-unruly blue-grey locks back loosely in an imitation of Raphael’s own coiffure. His hissed exhale is audible, and she stifles a grin, softening it into a smirk so very much like the one he often wears.

“Do you like it?”

His jaw clenches and she watches a vein in his neck pulse.

“Yes.”

tags: femdom, roleplay, degradation, very light genderplay, oral sex, mention of pegging, the usual light foot stuff you know me for

Eris had worn her hair much longer when she was younger. Blue locks hung down past her shoulder blades at one time; she'd pull it up into a messy bun or plait it when active. Pain in the ass to maintain, honestly. On her twenty-seventh birthday she’d cut it into a wavy pixie. It suits her, she thinks. Easy, no fuss. Painless in the bath, too – long hair she’d have to tie up to use the boudoir’s vast, gaudy pool, but now she leans her head back comfortably against Raphael’s damp bicep, his arm laid out casually behind her, and doesn’t worry about getting her short hair wet. 

It's verging on too long, now, though. Tickles the nape of her neck in the worst way. Needs to be cut every two months or so, which is annoying, but at least it doesn’t take long to snip back into shape. She’ll do it when she returns to Baldur’s Gate tomorrow after finishing up her weekend stay at the House of Hope.

Eris pecks Raphael on the cheek – cherishing the ensuing slight upward quirk of his mouth – and climbs out of the pool, grabbing a soft towel from nearby to dry off. She’ll spend an hour or two curled up with a book while he lounges and casually carries out some revisioning work.

He pays her no mind as she busies herself with redressing, choosing to spread his other arm along the rim of the pool and lean his head back into a tasseled pillow, eyes closing in contentment. Satisfied as a cat; regal as a king.

Eris doesn't reach for her own tunic. Instead she pulls Raphael’s crisp, clean white shirt from the neat pile of their clothing on the plush chair next to the wardrobe and slides her arms into the sleeves, buttoning it up halfway and wearing nothing underneath. He likes this look on her, of course – what manner of man wouldn’t enjoy seeing his lover in his clothing? A mark of possession; a claim; a deed of ownership. Not that Raphael would ever assume to own her, of course; she’s long refused his offer to make her his consort, and estimates said offer isn’t up for review for at least another few years (lest he incur her wrath).

Something pushes her to pick up and don his doublet, too. With an ego the size of his, certainly he’ll delight in seeing both layers on her form. It's not just for him, either; Raphael’s overwhelming scent, sweet and smoldering, always stirs her – not that she's trying to be a fucking weirdo about it, but it is what it is – and she pulls the thick material closer, inhaling him.

The sloshing sounds of the water alert her to the man's presence nearing her, and Eris soon feels the heated press of his body at her back.

“Well, well. I have to commend you on your choice of attire.”

She leans her head back against his shoulder and smiles. “Perhaps you're rubbing off on me.”

“Oh, I have before, and I will again.” The double meaning in Raphael’s words is clear as he presses his naked hips against her rear and inclines his head to mouth at her neck, moving the high collars on the shirt and doublet out of the way. “I can be very persuasive.”

“Don’t I know it, with that sinful voice of yours. What was the line, again – oh, I remember –”

Eris turns in the devil’s arms to face him. 

“The mouse smiled brightly; it outfoxed the cat!” She pitches her voice a bit lower for the next line, remembering Raphael’s seductive, lilting delivery from their first meeting. “Then down came the claw; and that, love –” 

She leans in to kiss him lightly on the mouth, but he grips her hips with a bit more enthusiasm than she'd been expecting and groans softly at the press of her lips, opening his own underneath them. Eager tongue meets eager tongue and it's clear Eris’s earlier hypothesis on his opinion was well-founded.

“Ohhh,” she purrs as they part. “Do I make a fine enough Archdevil Supreme, devil mine?”

“Second only to the real thing,” he rumbles, sliding a hand beneath his unbuttoned white shirt inside the doublet she now wears to shamelessly grope at her breast.

“Haarlep will be terribly disappointed to hear that.”

“Haarlep isn't here. And what a gift that is.”

“Shall I continue, then? Model the rest of your handsome ensemble?”

“If you must,” he grouses, but his eyes are alight with interest. She knows that look very well.

Eris turns away from him as she slides his trousers on. Of slighter stature than her lover, she finds the waist too large and the legs too long, as expected – but a clean snap of Raphael’s fingers from behind her heralds a quick cinch around her hips and a loss of excess fabric around her ankles. (She’ll remember that the next time she needs something of hers hemmed.)

“How do I look?” she asks slyly, and turns back to find him flushed.

Ah. Well-founded, indeed. Terribly, terribly correct, she was. Marvelous.

“Put on your boots,” he demands. “Complete the picture.”

Eris does exactly that, stepping over to lean against the wardrobe behind her to pull each boot on rather than balance precariously on one foot – as the waves of arousal and tension emanating from him are palpable enough to nearly knock her over. When finished, she straightens and spreads her arms wide in an obscenely Raphael-like gesture of welcome.

“Well?”

For all the words the devil has at his disposal, all seem to fail him now. He still holds his head high, mighty like a king, but the deepening flush spreading down his neck and into the wiry hairs on his chest says more than any words would regardless. His cock had already been stirring against her when he’d pressed his hips to hers before; now it’s full and hard and heavy as he looks Eris up and down.

With forced steadiness, haughty tone more than a little patronizing despite his clear interest, he finally says, “It’s as if I’m looking in a mirror, my dear. Besides the obvious differences.”

Eris smiles, and now she's the one resembling the satisfied cat. “Perhaps another touch, I think –”

Her hair is too long, yes – but perhaps the perfect length for this purpose. A murmured incantation coats her hand with sweet-smelling oil, and she slicks her short-but-unruly blue-grey locks back loosely in an imitation of Raphael’s own coiffure. His hissed exhale is audible, and she stifles a grin, softening it into a smirk so very much like the one he often wears.

“Do you like it?”

His jaw clenches and she watches a vein in his neck pulse.

“Yes.”

Victory.

Eris steps lightly, purposefully over to the ornate bed. Her voice is low again when she speaks after a moment. Smooth. Just like his.

“Then, come here…little mouse.”

As if hypnotized, Raphael comes to her slowly and deliberately. His pretty cock bobs thickly between his legs, flushed nearly as red as his cheeks. Upon reaching her, the devil says nothing, filling the silence with his shallow breaths and hesitant eye contact. Eris reaches out to touch his face, brushing fingertips softly, dangerously over his handsome jawline.

“Tell me how you'll indulge me today.”

Her lover takes a deep breath before responding, only the slightest of wavers discernible in a tone rough with arousal.

“I am yours…Archdevil Supreme.”

Eris’s heart thuds in her chest. 

“Get on your knees.”

And he obeys.

Despite having only just donned Raphael’s attire, Eris lets him undress her again now, noting only the smallest of tremors in his strong, elegant hands. He begins with her boots, pulling each one off gently and placing it to the side. She’d foregone footwraps in the interest of simplicity, so her feet are bared to him quickly – true to form, he lifts each one to his face, breathing in and out, heavy cock beginning to leak between his thighs onto the ornate rug beneath him. Presses his open mouth to each arch in turn, moistening her skin and lapping up the condensing droplets, salty and heady.

But as much as Eris loves to watch him fall apart underneath her heel, now’s not the time. She flexes her foot in his grasp, pushes her sole against his striking nose just hard enough that his head falls back. Sneers.

“There are better uses for your mouth, I think, than chasing your own sick cravings. Perhaps we ought to stuff it with cock.”

She’s not harnessed up right now; isn’t equipped with her pretty polished leather phallus her dangerous darling often desires so dearly; but this isn’t about fucking him. It’s about him worshiping her – as him. A narcissist’s fantasy. A perverse, masturbatory scene. The very flavor of deviance her handsome devil adores.

(She'll put her lovely faux cock down his throat another time, though.)

“Continue undressing me, and then we’ll discuss the terms of our agreement.”

Raphael scrambles to heed her request, unbuttoning his own trousers and pulling them eagerly down over the curves of Eris’s hips. Helps her step out of them so she’s wearing nothing below the waist. So he can see her pretty pink sex.

Bared, she studies him. His eyes are wide, pupils blown as he stares back. Hands clenched into tight fists on his knees. Beautiful cock so hard, so wanting, so desirous of himself and of her in tandem.

“Open.”

Eris slides two fingers onto Raphael’s tongue, pressing further and further back into his throat as he moans around them. Slips the other hand underneath his chin; makes him look up at her while she leisurely explores the inside of his wet mouth.

“A devil’s plaything, aren’t you? So obedient for me, sweet mouse.”

She leans back against the bed and brings her fingertips to her dripping slit, parting her delicate lips for him to see. Traces around her entrance with his saliva, thick between her digits.

“Suck me, girl.”

His mouth is between her legs faster than she can blink. So willing and pliant and needy and serving.

She hoists a knee up onto the bed to give him easier access, and to see his every move more clearly. Watches him reach for his cock. Buries a hand in his hair and yanks his head back. He whines. It’s indecent.

“What makes you think you can attend to your own pleasure? Did I grant you permission?”

“No, Your Grace,” he breathes, face shiny with her slick. “Accept my apologies.”

“Pathetic,” she sneers. “Tell me you won’t touch your cock again.”

“I won't touch my cock again.”

Rare that she can get him to obey so easily. So eagerly. He brats for her, as she does for him. It's how they’ve operated from the beginning – he likes a challenge, likes a fight. 

But, up against himself (in a manner of speaking)? 

Different.

Fascinating.

“Get back to work.”

For Eris, there is nothing like watching her devil chase his indulgence. She thrives on being the one he chooses to delight in; for all the years he's lived, he says, there is no sweeter nectar than that which drips from her honeyed cunt. His self-possessed hunger is unforgiving, and what use would she have, anyway, for forgiveness?

The act of giving oral pleasure is, by nature, a generous thing. But this is not how Raphael usually approaches it. He usually eats at Eris greedily, harsh tongue licking and savoring deeply. Pushes her, overstimulates her to the point of ache, nearly to the point of pain. Usually clutches at her soft hips and pulls her closer still, holds her in place for a sloppy and rampant feast. Usually makes a selfless act into a selfish one, making her pleasure an afterthought even when she’s the one riding his face and he's groaning, whimpering in delight beneath her, trapped so willingly between her thighs.

But now – now, with his own sex-laced tone painting his blue cherry’s words; with his own affectation and mannerism adorning her every move – Raphael is reverent with every stroke of his wicked tongue.

And the comparison, the juxtaposition, is fucked up. There’s a sick sort of pleasure in her gut, a depraved thrill at being worthy of the highest worship only when she’s playing as him. It’s demeaning and debasing for both of them: for him to be so plainly an egomaniac; for her to feel – to be – less than him, less than how he sees himself.

They’re both terribly pathetic, aren’t they?

The thought makes her shiver as the tension builds low in her belly, spurred on by Raphael’s loud and unrestrained sucks and licks at her core. She won’t be long. 

(Never is. But then again, neither is he.)

“Don’t you dare come before I do.” Threat is evident in her tone. She doesn’t expect he’ll last, even with her warning. 

And he doesn’t. Last, that is. Raphael shudders and pauses his ministrations briefly to spill onto the rug between them with a low groan, lips framing a single word, and the sight of him giving in sends a hot throb of arousal through Eris’s every godsdamned nerve. She doesn’t have time to dwell on it though, because he drags two fingers through his release, through the fibers of the carpet, and brings them to join his mouth at the apex of her legs. Slides them inside, lifting a bare thigh with his other hand to rest on his shoulder for leverage, and looks worshipfully up at her with a mouthful of her cunt as he carries her the rest of the way to her end and she comes on his tongue with a soft cry.

She knows his feelings for her match hers for him. She’s not stupid. The two of them wouldn’t be as they are if anything were different.

The single word on his lips was her name – as it always is – and she’d be an idiot to acknowledge it. He – they both – are too proud to speak of love, too stubborn to admit pride as a greater weakness than emotion.

This is enough, though, she thinks, as they curl into bed after another quick dip in the bath, after what feels like a thousand kisses she presses to his mouth. Raphael with furrowed brow, a draft and quill pen on his lap, spectacles on the tip of his nose; Eris with that book she’d promised herself earlier, too-long hair mussed in her usual style tickling the devil’s bare skin where her head rests on his shoulder.

This is enough for them.