“You utter cunt!”
“Fuck you!”
That was how karting usually ended when you two were involved. No matter where either of you started on the grid, you and Liam always found a way to crash into each other.
I blacked out, and an hour later this monstrosity was born! Hope you enjoy
Also I used alpha tauri bc i refuse to put Visa Cash Card Paypal App Racing Redbulls in my goddamm fics.
Warnings: gn!reader, rough sex, lots of swearing, rivals to lovers, daddy kink, corruption kink, smidge of angst, like 2 seconds of fluff before it descends into madness
“That was my line!”
“You call that a line? Ha! My blind grandmother can see that’s a shit line!”
And you were only thirteen then. Now you were both in formula 1. But unfortunately, the insults hadn’t matured, and neither had you.
“You absolute wankstain! What the fuck was that?!”
“That was me having to crash into my teammate! Because my teammate is a shit driver who doesn’t leave me any room, you fucking prick!”
“Oh, dear! Looks like the alpha tauri duo are having a trackside screaming match... again.”
Crofty sighed. At this point it was almost a weekly occurrence. You and Liam were bitter rivals on track and had been since you started karting all those years ago. It always ended in a screaming match that usually lasted well into the evening, and sometimes all the way up the corridors of your hotel rooms, and one time, it ended with Liam shoving you into your room and fucking you right there on the carpet.
That was one time. And you and Liam had never talked about it. The next day you’d bickered on the private jet, as per usual, and just like that it was forgotten.
Except it wasn’t, not really.
The problem was that Liam had unknowingly taken your virginity that night. And it was, by default, the best sex you had ever had. But your relationship stayed the same and the two of you never even acknowledged what happened. You weren’t obsessed with the concept of virginity either of course, it was what it was, and he was you first, whatever. But it would be nice if he stopped being such a huge prick, you know?
Then came the end of season celebrations in Abu Dhabi. You’d been drinking heavily to forget this nightmare of a season and the fact that you (just you, not Liam) had essentially been threatened to stop fighting next season or you would be out of a seat faster than you could say ‘hypocrisy’.
You tried your best to avoid him all evening. But he kept appearing in your line of sight, on the dancefloor, getting drinks at the bar, shuffling off to the toilets every now and then. You kept drinking so that your vision would hopefully go so blurry you wouldn’t be able to see him at all, but of course with those drinks came the need to pee.
So, there you were in one of the stalls thinking about the face of the man you were trying hard not to think about. Then, said man walked in, crossed the room and the sound of him undoing his zipper was heard.
You knew it was him from his stupid shoes that you recognised very well, as he had once thrown them at your head. That was an incident worthy of getting fired....
Anyway, for some obscure reason (about 7 tequila cocktails) you thought it was a great idea to voice that thought out loud.
“I never told you, but those are the ugliest shoes on the fucking planet”.
There was a pause as he zipped his fly back up.
“Jesus, are you stalking me now? The fuck are you doing in there?”
“Pissing, obviously”
Another pause.
“Right” he said “anything else you want to tell me? Or can I get back to having fun now?”
You rolled your eyes “Yeah actually, you need to stop crashing into me, dickwad”.
He snorted. “And why the fuck would I do that”.
“Because I’m out of the seat next time we crash, and because you fucking owe me, so please just cool it with the- !”
“Wait, why the fuck do I owe you anything? It’s not my fault you can’t drive!”
“Because you fucking took my virginity Liam!”
Okay maybe you weren’t completely over it.
You could’ve heard a pin drop. You desperately hoped there wasn’t anyone else in the stalls.
“What?!”
You were so embarrassed you tried to get out of answering by flushing the toilet and waiting for him to leave.
Obviously, that didn’t work.
“Unlock the door, please” He sounded almost winded, which confused you so much you actually opened the door. He was leaning against the wall and as his eyes snapped to yours, you could see there were tears in them.
Your bewilderment must have been visible because he immediately wrapped his arms around you in a tight bear hug.
“I’m so sorry you’re first time was like that... I’m so, so sorry...”
You pushed him off enough to be able to breathe again “The sex was great Liam, what the fuck are you sorry for?”
He stroked your hair as he spoke, refusing to meet your eyes. “Because... I thought you hated me so I... Your first time shouldn’t be, you know, hate-sex. I thought that was the only way I would get to do it with you so I- I didn’t know you’d never done it before- it was a spur of the moment thing”.
You were even more confused. “The only way you’d get to do it? What the fuck does that mean?”
He finally looked at you and he seemed so weirdly vulnerable, so heartbroken that your brain started to catch up, and your breath caught in your throat.
“Do you...” your heart was beating fast as you scanned his face for a reaction “like me?”
He had a pained look on his face and just looked down at the floor. He didn’t like you. It went deeper than that.
“Liam look at me” He did. You didn’t know what to say so you just stared at him.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night, you know” he said softly.
“Neither have I” you whispered, and your eyes met as he looked at you in shock.
You both moved at the same time, crashing your lips and bodies together as the years of tension finally washed away and you were on the same wavelength for the first time.
As you both caught your breath a minute later, he chuckled. “Come on, let’s get back to the hotel. I owe you a do-over”.
And do-over he did.
As in, he did you, over every surface.
It started out sweet enough. He carried you to the bed, undressed you slowly and took his time fucking you slowly, almost maddeningly so. But you both quickly realised that he’d already corrupted you the first time, and now you liked it rough. So he gave it to you. First he flipped you over on the bed, grabbed your hair and pushed you face down into the sheets as he pounded into you mercilessly from behind, occasionally leaving hand prints on your ass, then he took you standing up against the glass windows, one hand around your throat, the other sneaking down to touch you where you were making a mess of yourself.
“Fuck, you like it like this don’t you? You’re basically dripping onto the carpet”.
Then he flipped you and lifted you up, your legs hooking over his arms as he entered you again, the position giving you no choice but to just take it.
“Yes, take it baby, fuck- so tight around me, take my fucking cock” he growled and bit into your shoulder, making you moan. “You’d take anything I give you right? Such a fucking slut for it my god”
His hips stuttered as he had a thought.
“It’s my fault, isn’t it? My fault that you take it like you were made for it, fuck” his thrusts became even harder as you both felt your highs quickly approaching, your hands were scrambling for purchase on his sweaty shoulders, settling in his hair to give it a sharp tug, his answer was a deep thrust that knocked the breath out of you.
“Fucking made for me. Only I get to see you like this now, don’t I? My little cockslut, all for me. Isn’t that right?”
You nodded quickly, but he made a noise of discontent.
“Words baby, I need words or I won’t let you come. Who do you belong to?”
“You Daddy, please I’m gonna come” you couldn’t help it, the name slipping out as his hips stuttered and he made a punched-out noise.
“Shit- say that again baby, that sounded good”.
You huffed out a whine, now was not the time to be embarrassed “Daddy please, please I need to come so bad”.
He groaned “Okay baby go ahead, come on daddy’s cock, now.”
You came so hard. All over yourself, and it ran down onto his thighs and the feeling of you dripping everywhere sent him over the edge, thrusting a couple more times before stilling, deep inside you as you felt him fill you up.
He carried you like that into the bathroom, setting you down gently in the shower, legs and hips sore from the position and you both spent an eternity in there, soaping each other up and kissing tenderly, trying to make up for lost time.
As you got into bed with him, you checked your phone and saw two things: the alarm for your flight was in 2 hours, and a text that read “does this mean you two will be cooperating from now on?” from your performance engineer.
Your cheeks burned red, she had the room right next door.
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I miss professor reichsgraf
GN! Bad Student Reader x Professor OC!
Minors DNI
CW: GN! Reader, reader referred to as they/them, no body descriptions for reader, lots of swearing tbh lol, reader is RUDE (just because they’re sleepy! we still stan🥰) spanking, pet names for reader(good kitten, darling), Sub!Reader, reader has hair(not described just enough to grab), fingering (not specified which hole dw), nipple play, crying reader, tetro?, overstim, dubcon(no proper safeword), sado maso, p in hole, not proofread.
(IDK i hope it turned out okay, it doesn’t seem the way i want it, but i can’t tell rn if it’s just me T.T)
“You are, quite possibly the worst student i’ve ever had the misfortune of teaching.”
You mock him on the phone with your bestie.
“Stupid ass over qualified teacher.”
“Fur reaaaalll. my gods, what an asshole!” they respond.
“It’s too bad he’s so hot. What a waste.” You resume what you were doing and hold the phone between your ear and shoulder.
“I would tap, i wonder if he’s into that like teacher/student play…” they trail off.
“Ew. please don’t fantasize about my dickwad professor. At least with me around,” You feign gagging.
The next day in class you’re slouching, hoping to the gods that he just forgets you exist so that you can try and catch up on your assignments… But Fuck it’s so hard! You don’t have time for school work when you’re home, because you’re usually sleeping, after your two jobs. And all these pompous professors do is give homework!!! ALL OF THEM.
It’s the end of the ninety minute mark and you, along with everyone else, starts packing your things.
“Y/L/N. Stay behind a minute.” Professor Reichsgraf sighs, and tosses an empty cup into the trash can.
“Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhg!” You groan, thankfully the room is loud enough that he might not of even—
“Gods, you’d swear I told you that you’re going to jail,” He laughs. He’s sat behind the desk a little slouched like normal, head in a hand, elbow on a stack of papers (probably so it’s more comfortable) you tsk out loud at your thoughts, before pretending to yawn.
What a class A assho-
“Have a seat,” he asks.
“This will take that long??” You sigh out frustratedly.
“Gods, you young peop—”
“Oh don’t you ‘young people these days’ Me, mister!”
“It’s Doctor.”
“Oooo big dif. Fuck off” You cross your arms and roll your eyes.
He rolls his own, “Just sit.”
With a *plop*! into the seat, you do.
The professor stands, his hand lazily traces a knot in his desk as he rounds the table and approaches you slowly. “I don’t usually do this…”
“Woah, Um isn’t there like a rule against—”
“What!?” He furrows his brow then massages it quickly between his finger and thumb. “No, i’m offering to tutor you,” He sighs in annoyance.
“Oh really?” You would still really like to at least pass… “Okay fine.”
“What? really? no deals needed?” He looks you over.
shrugging, you say, “I mean what are you offering?”
“Nope, it’s a done deal, you already signed the dotted line crossed your t’s and all that.” He steps ever closer, and leans on the table you’re sat at.
“When do we start?”
~
You’ve had a few sessions with your professor but nothing seems to be working, the information just isn’t sticking until…
“Bend over.” Reichsgraf growls, head in his hand in frustration.
“Excuse me?” Your brows raise in shock.
“Bend over my knee, right now. You aren’t learning this way.”
You think at first he’s lying. Just trying to make you uncomfortable or something, maybe a bee flew into his coffee this morning so he’s taking it out on you. You don’t know. But you do it. You get down, lay over his lap and wait.
His hand massages your rump, “Now what’s the answer to number five?”
“A?”
A hand comes down onto your flesh with a *Smack!*
“Ow!” You yelp! “What the fuck!?”
“What is the answer to number five? Don’t just guess.”
“Is it not A?” You ask, it looks right… Right?
*SMACK!”
“OW!!” You yelp again, louder this time, it stings so much more the second time!
“You know the answer.”
“C!” You suddenly remember something he said about it yesterday, and he’s right, you did know the answer!
“Good job, I’m impressed.” He isn’t lying, he really is. Only two spanks on the first time? Maybe he had been hoping for more though, to be honest.
It’s a unique way to have to learn like this, but with you, he’s happy to oblige. All the time spent being frustrated that you couldn’t commit even the simplest knowledge to memory, he can finally get rid of…
“Okay now six.”
“Do we have to do the whole assignment like this?”
“Yes. Six.”
You shout, “A!”
*Smack!*
“Shit! I mean B!” You wince.
“You guessed again. Read the answer, and tell me why it’s correct.”
“Do i have to? I got it right that time.”
Suddenly the hand on your rear moves to your clothed sex, he presses down hard and trails along the divide. A gnawing heat starts to grow in your lower half quickly.
“Hey! wait-!”
“We don’t have the time. what is the answer to seven?”
“D!”
“Good Kitten,” His baritone seems even deeper somehow, as he rubs you harder, your jeans are getting too hot to bare. “We need these off.” He tugs on your back belt loop.
“Yeah…” You shock yourself when you agree so readily. You stand to unbutton them and get them off, but he slaps your hands away and takes your pants off for you.
Your body gets thrown around until your bent over the desk and the wood’s digging into your hip bones.
“Professor-!”
A growl escapes his throat. his hair is messier than usual when you turn back to look, before he grabs yours and steers you forward.
His fingers enter you first, already setting a fast pace, he curls them and scissors them; all while pistoning so fast you feel like you’re already teetering on the edge. “Such a good kitten, you’re doing so good for me,” He hums deeply in his throat.
You whine and wriggle, until he tenses his grip in your hair and on your hip. His hand fans out over your skin and gropes you the entire way up to your chest, pressing a traveling dent into your stomach and over your ribs. Your brows peak, and your mouth hangs open.
“Seven.”
“SERIOUSLY???” You stomp, way to take you out of it.
*SLAP!* Your ass was sore from the earlier abuse, to be slapped now stings so brutally!!!
“F-fuck!!” You shake.
“Seven. Now.” His hand is raised and prepped to hit you again.
You shimmy and jump, “No, no more please!!”
*SLAP!*
“AHH!” You screech! “ummm,” You read the question rapidly through bleary eyes, “D! D! It’s D!!!” You shout and writhe in his grasp.
“I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do this,” He rubs something cooling on your ass cheek and it feels so much better!
“Oh thank you thank you oh my gods.” you let out so much air you feel dizzy. His cock starts to rub against you, making your dizzy spell last longer. it’s so hot and hard and.. LONG! Holy shit it’s so long! You’re gonna be speared to death on that thing! You drool at the anticipation! “Fuck me.” You say it in a long groan as an expression but also mean it very much.
“You deserve it, you’ve been doing so good,” Holy shit, his words strike some heavenly chord that opens your pearly gates wide for him, and he enters without resistance, taking his time to really appreciate your interior.
“Holy shit!” You can’t help the obscenities, they just fall from your lips naturally, you’re so surprised at all of this, at yourself for willingly doing it, at your hot teacher for wanting you in the first place, at so many things…. Most of all at how HOT his dick is like molten lava inside you and it feels fucking DIVINE.
“You’re such a good kitten,” He rubs you as you take his length.
His movements are calculated, every single one. No matter how fast they hit your spots like a master martial artist targeting pressure points. You aren’t getting a break from his assaults every strike is a critical blow. Even when he slows down his spongey head sweetly kisses those spots igniting obscene fires that don’t have time to burn out before being reignited fully.
You’re getting close, so painfully close to a volcanic eruption, your bubbling!
“Cum for me, darling” He leans down over your back, to whisper into your ear, his voice gravely and so low.
“AHH!!!” You scream out and your whole body goes rigid and convulses, his own cum shoots inside you and you take all of it.
“So good for me, you took me so well, darling…” His eyes practically have hearts in them.
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What if the reader and Noah have been training together with Ash, doing kickboxing and all that. They haven't hung out together, but one day, Noah invites the reader over. They find out that they have more in common than they realize.
You can make this cute, romantic, fluff, smutty...you do you :)
Ahhh mi mayor amor, this ask holds a special place in my heart. I trained martial arts for a long time. This sounds like a lot of fun.
Now, I will forewarn you, I’ve never done a reader perspective fic before. I’m nervous. The Y/N thing scares me, but I’m going to take a crack at it. Honest feedback is appreciated!
After writing notes: I'm so FUCKING evil. :)
Ratings: Explicit
Warnings: Hehehehehe.......
Vices
“Damn it!” My hand tapped the leg cinched around my throat, my mouth guard nearly choking me as I struggled.
The grip loosened and I rolled backward over my head, fist punching the mat beneath me. The Dutch braids my hair was in was faltering, and I stared at the man in front of me.
“What the fuck am I doing wrong?!”
“Calm down, Y/N. You’re going to get this.” Ash, despite being covered in a thin layer of sweat, was smiling warm at me, trying to calm my frustration.
“We’ve been at this for twenty fucking minutes, dude! I keep getting locked the fuck up!” My hands gestured in front of me, my backside rested on my heels.
“You’ve only been doing Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for three months. You’re still learning. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He moved to stand. “You want to take a break?”
I stood as well, leaning down into my stance. “No. Let’s go again.”
Ash quirked a brow, defeated, and shook his head, bending down as well. Before I could reach for him, a voice echoed from behind me, disrupting my focus.
“You’re too tense. You need to shake off some of that rage you got there, doll.”
I snapped my head over, inadvertently whipping myself in the mouth with the end of my braid.
Noah stood, tall and sweaty, leaning against one of the heavy punching bags lining the back wall of the room. A towel was draped over his left shoulder, his water bottle in his hand. I narrowed my eyes at him.
“If I wanted your opinion, dick, I would’ve asked for it.”
He threw his hands up defensively. “Just trying to help.”
Scoffing, I turned back around to ready myself. “Sure. I believe that.”
If there was anyone in this gym that I considered a nemesis, it was Noah ‘Dickwad’ Sebastian. I couldn’t fucking stand him. He was arrogant, unbearably fucking tall, and insanely fucking irritating.
We met for the first time when I joined the gym three months ago. He had been training here only six months longer than I, and from the beginning, he was constantly poking a fucking stick at me. It didn’t make sense, and I didn’t fucking care.
I learned through whispers in the gym that he was in a band, so when I googled him and learned what he did for a living, I wasn’t impressed in the slightest.
So what if he could sing? Didn’t make him any less intolerable. He wouldn’t sing too well if I stuck my foot down his throat, anyway.
Had I added a few of his songs to my workout playlist? Maybe. That's beside the point.
Ash wrapped me up in the arm bar yet again, my wrist screaming at me to tap out before it snapped in two. My fingers tapped his leg, and he released me.
“Alright Fireball, that’s enough for one day.” He stood, walking over to his corner where he kept his bag and water.
I noticed Noah had left, so I relaxed, straightening my shirt and making my way over to my own bag next to Ash.
“What am I doing wrong, dude? Seriously?”
He shrugged. “Honestly? You’re just off right now. Did something happen today?”
Rolling my eyes, I sprayed water into my mouth. “My bitch of a mother called me this morning.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That angered you?” His question was sincere. I didn’t share a lot about my personal life with my gym mates.
“It did.” Was all I gave before I slung my bag over my shoulder and slipped my slides on.
He nodded in approval. “Trying to train angry never works. It makes you unfocused. That’s why we do breathing exercises beforehand.” He placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Try to let it go. We’ll work on it more tomorrow.”
His words calmed my fried nerves ever so slightly, and I grinned at him.
“Thanks Ash. I’ll see you then.”
-
Life really fucking blows sometimes. The last week had been a shit show and a half, and I was exhausted. I hadn’t been back to the gym because work had kept me busy, then I got rear-ended, totaling my ‘98 Corolla, and had been dodging calls from my Mom every hour like clockwork.
Needless to say, when I stepped foot into the gym, the smell of perspiration and mat cleaner was like a breath of fresh air.
My eyes searched, noticing an unfamiliar class going. I spotted Ash, whose eyes flashed over to me before he halted his spar, and jogged over.
“Hey, you okay? Haven’t seen you in over a week.”
I nodded. “Rough few days, but I’m good now.”
He smiled, but a look of concern crossed his face.
“Gosh, Y/N, I’m sorry, but we’re not running regular classes this week. There’s a tournament on the weekend, we’ve got to train our competitors.”
My mood fell, my shoulders going with it. I needed the relief. I needed to train.
Ash saw my eyes, and a sympathetic look crossed his face. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”
I shook my head, waving a hand. “No, no. That’s okay. I totally understand.”
He chewed the inside of his lip, peering around the room. A sly smile perked up on his lips.
“Come here.” He motioned for me to follow, which I did, kicking my sandals off before entering the mat, giving a quick bow.
When we rounded the corner into the back of the gym, my feet halted just before the line of bags. Only one person was there, gloves and shin guards on, practicing his combinations.
Oh hell no.
“Y/N, why don’t you spar with Noah?”
My jaw dropped as he stopped mid-hook, pulling an earbud out. “What’s up?”
His chestnut brown hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes were widened slightly. I suddenly felt very exposed, only in a sports bra and fitness leggings.
“Would you be willing to spar with Y/N?”
Noah’s eyes made a show of looking me up and down, a devious grin creeping over his face.
“Oh, of course.”
I snorted, looking at Ash. “Are you insane?”
He shrugged. “You’re my only two not competing. It gives you a way to train.”
Holding up a hand toward Noah, my voice raised several octaves. “How am I supposed to spar with him?! He’s a fucking tree!” I motioned to my own height. “I’m only five fucking three!”
Ash’s eyes narrowed at me, clearly not amused with my tantrum.
“Listen, this is the only solution I have for you this week. If you don’t want to, totally fine.” He interlocked his fingers. “But I think it would be good for you.” He glanced between us. “Both of you.”
And just like that, he left.
Noah stared at me now, waiting for my decision. I just shook my head and snarled. “Fuck this.”
Turning to leave, I heard his voice call after me. “Yeah, figured you’d be too scared.”
I froze mid-step, craning my neck to look back at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I get it. I’m intimidating.” He was unhooking his shin guards, tossing them to the side.
“Are you, now?” I turned back around, arms crossing over my chest.
His gloves went next, falling next to his bag. “Obviously.”
“You’re way out of my weight class, Noah.”
He smirked. “Calling me fat?”
I rolled my eyes. What a fucking douche.
“You have an unfair advantage with your long noodle limbs.”
He sucked his teeth, taking a short drink of water. “Having fun insulting me today, huh?”
“Doesn’t change the circumstance.”
“You joined martial arts for self defense, right?”
I jutted my hip out. “So?”
He set down his bottle, running long tattooed fingers through his damp hair.
“So, you think every attacker is going to be the same size and weight as you?”
This gave me pause. He had a point.
I let my bag fall casually off my shoulder, holding my arms up in defeat.
“Fine.” I stepped forward to the middle of the mat. “You want to spar? Let’s do it.”
His eyes sparkled, which made my breath catch for a second, as he walked over to me.
His long form bowed forward as I did, before we bent down in our stance.
It was as I expected; infuriating.
His arms could nearly wrap me around twice. His legs were surprisingly strong, his thighs much more muscular than I had originally anticipated. I kept having to tap, which was making me angrier with each match.
“This is bullshit!”
He hopped on the mat, keeping his blood flowing. “You’re overthinking it. Going rigid.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Fuck that. I’m just too fucking small for this.”
He shook his head, eyes locked on my face. “You’re not. You need to let go. Quit thinking about it so hard.”
We restarted, and I let his words soak in. Feeling my heart beating, my lungs breathing, I let my body instinctively take over. Noah’s thighs wrapped around my waist, but I managed to wrap and arm between them, breaking his grip. Before I could celebrate my victory, he wrapped an arm around my neck, holding me in a reverse choke.
I had to stop and think. Lifting my arm, I found his neck, and locked in tight, causing him to double over, and his arm to slip.
I flipped away from him and stood back up, hands out and waiting. He grabbed me, but I was faster, sprawling low and taking out his right leg before wrapping his ankle in a crushing grip.
I felt his fingers tap my leg three times, and released him, squealing in excitement.
Jumping to my feet, I clapped my hands together, smiling wildly.
“I fucking did it!”
He laid flat on the mat, breathing heavily, and gave me a weak thumbs up. I stood over him, bent at the waist, and smiled as sugary as possible.
“You okay Daddy Long Legs?”
He lowered his eyebrows and licked his lips. “I like when you call me Daddy.”
Snickering, I stood up, reaching a hand out for him to use to stand up. Once on his feet, he padded over to his water bottle.
It had already been an hour, when I had the sense to check the time.
“Damn, I’ve got to get home. The cat needs to be fed.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Same time tomorrow?”
I smirked, shouldering my bag. “If you’re not too scared.”3
-
After three training sessions with Noah, I could feel my perspective of him begin to change ever so subtly. Sure, he was still a perverted douche, but he was also a really dedicated sparring partner. He was always on time, he was interested in my progress, and gave some pretty honest feedback about my technique.
Did I hate seeing him every day? No. Not exactly. I didn’t want to go as far as to say I enjoyed his company, but maybe I wore my nicer sports bras to the gym? Maybe my braids were pulled a little tighter because he was rough with them? Maybe I wore a light mist of body spray before I got there?
Maybe.
So, to my disappointment, come Wednesday, our fourth day training together, he wasn’t already there when I walked in. My face fell when I rounded the corner, expecting to catch him warming up on the bag. I had come to look forward to our banter back and forth prior to training. I also looked forward to watching him hit the bag, but I knew that was just because of his form. It was…exceptional.
Considering he could be stuck in traffic, or had a prior engagement, I decided to start warming up without him.
I made quick work of wrapping my hands and slipping my gloves on before starting my music and assaulting the bag in front of me. I let my mind wander while I pushed each combination out, using my emotions to channel the force.
Before I realized, I had listened to nearly half of my workout playlist, and there was still no sign of him. My head glanced around, and a deep feeling settled on my chest.
As much as I didn’t like the guy, it would’ve been nice for him to mention he wasn’t coming today. When I saw him yesterday, he didn’t say anything about skipping today. I couldn’t ask him myself. I didn’t know his number or any way to reach him.
Deciding it wasn’t worth the irritation, I stepped back from my bag, and began removing my gloves, tucking them back into my bag. As I did so, a flash flew by my peripheral vision, and I stood straight, noticing him.
Noah had walked - no, stomped on to the mat, flung his bag down, earbuds already in and blasting loudly in his ears, and hastily grabbed his gloves out, slipping them on.
I just stood, staring at him, leaning against my respective bag. He paid me no attention, not even glancing in my direction. Something had him pissed. His face had turned a harsh shade of crimson, only darkening as he went at the bag, his voice letting out sharp exclamations every so often.
Carefully, I took three steps closer, touching the bag next to him, eyes searching all over for a sign of what made him so angry. What had happened? Noah was one of the coolest cucumbers I had met in a long time, never bothered by seemingly anything.
Who had hurt him?
Deciding to chance it, knowing he couldn’t hear me, I let my fingers lightly touch the bag he punched during one of his ten second breaks.
For the first time, his eyes looked at me, and were almost black with the rage they held. It made me startle, my eyes widening.
“Noah?”
He rubbed at his ear with his glove, making one earbud fall out. “Not today, Y/N.”
His words didn’t leave room for pressure or questions.
Unfortunately for him, I’m not one to heed a warning.
Narrowing my eyes, I took a step forward as he raised his gloves again, standing between him and the bag still swaying.
His shoulders tensed, and he lowered his gloves, glaring at me.
“Move.”
I crossed my arms, and raised an eyebrow.
“Or what?”
“Or I will move you.”
Pursing my lips, I contemplated this. He could, if he wanted to.
“No.”
“Y/N, I’m not asking.” His voice was deadly.
“I’m not moving. Not until you talk to me.”
He furrowed his brow, incredulous. “About what?”
“What has you so upset?”
He bared his teeth, irritation rising. “Since when do we talk? You don’t even like me.”
Uncrossing my arms and opening myself a bit to show I wasn’t trying to be a complete pain in the ass, I shrugged. “I don’t dislike you.”
He scoffed, slipping his gloves off. “Since fucking when?”
“Since you turned out to be more tolerable than I originally thought.”
He shook his head, taking a long gulp from his bottle. “Thanks, doll. Appreciate that.”
Still raging, but slightly more approachable, I took a step toward where he stood at his gym bag.
“C’mon Noah. Maybe sparring will make you feel better?”
He waved at me, disregarding me. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Because…?” I leaned closer to where he was bent over the bag, unwrapping his hands.
“I don’t want to talk about it, alright?”
Standing up straight, I adjusted my sports bra, which I noticed his eyes caught.
“Then grapple with me.” My solution was simple.
After a moment of careful consideration, he eventually stood back up, staring as I made my way to the middle of the mat.
We bowed, and he leaned down, hands up. “I’m not holding back today.”
I smirked. “Please don’t. I want it all, baby boy.”
This triggered him, his hips dropping to the mat in a hard sprawl, arms wrapping up my waist, dropping me like a hot rock on my back. The air rushed from my lungs before I could prevent the grip he held on my torso. His arms squeezed me in a hard choke, but I wasn’t tapping today.
I managed to get a hand under his left thigh, bending it back at a long angle, making his grip falter just enough to get turned around in his arms. My head slipped loose, but he was back on me. Impossibly strong hands gripped my left thigh, flipping me onto my back. My legs instinctively wrapped around his midsection while he tried to get a grasp on my forearm, to which I squirmed, putting pressure on his rib cage with my legs.
A heavy, deep growl escaped his throat, which made my thighs involuntarily twitch around him. I don’t think he noticed. He was angry, fighting something other than myself at this moment.
His arms came up under mine, and he lifted me off of the ground, and dropped me back into my ass hard, popping my legs open.
My limbs sprawled out on the mat, my breath coming heavily, I looked up at him, wide-eyed. He kneeled over me, hair hanging off of his face in sweat-soaked tendrils, threatening to touch my forehead.
We sat there while I watched the darkness in his eyes dissolve, his breathing getting more and more even. The scowl on his face softened for a moment, and I couldn’t help when my hands reached up to grip his sides, squeezing in a hard grasp.
Noah was hurting. I didn’t know why. Something or someone had hurt him. And here, in this moment, I had him.
We knew so little of each other. Only having spent time in this safe haven together, we had bonded over the last few days, and I knew I was the only person who could relax the fire raging behind his chest right now.
“Noah?” I whispered into the space between us, fighting the urge to touch his face.
“Thanks.”
I quirked a brow. “For what?”
“Being here.”
Smiling, I pressed my fingers harder into his sides. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You did. You don’t even know it, but you did.”
I did know, but hearing him say it gave me a small flutter in my chest.
“Anytime.”
I tapped my code into my phone, and opened the Uber app. Zipping my sweater against the cool spring air, I began the process of searching for a driver to take me home.
“Hey.” I turned to see him walking out behind me. “Headed home?”
I nodded. “Yeah, just got to wait for a driver.” I waved my phone for show.
“You have to call an Uber? Where’s your car?”
Shrugging, I looked back down at the app that stated it was still looking for a driver.
“Got totaled last week.”
He walked over to me. “Damn, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No big deal.”
His eyes bounced between me, and the parking lot where his shiny black Navigator sat under the moonlight.
“Want a ride?”
I shook my head. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can get an Uber.”
He smiled, all sense of his earlier anger wiped clean. “I promise I’m cheaper.” His keys twirled around his long fingers.
I smirked, and closed my app. “Alright.”
The drive to my house wasn’t long, but before we even made it out of the parking lot, he looked over to me. “Hungry?”
I was leaned back, sending my mother a text. “Uh,” I locked my phone. “I mean, I never eat heavy after a workout.”
He nodded. “Same. But there��s a Yogurtland up the street?”
My lips pinched together. “What’s that?”
He turned out of the parking lot, but still managed to stare at me. “Frozen yogurt?”
I just threw my hands up. “Never had it.”
The look he gave me was as if I was insane. “You’ve never had frozen yogurt?”
“Isn’t it essentially just ice cream?”
He shook his head. “No. Not at all. It’s better.”
“Pfft. I doubt that.”
He turned into the parking lot of the yogurt place, and enthusiastically jumped out of the truck. In the few minutes it took for us to get there, I had been working my Dutch braids out, letting my dark hair loose, waves set in from the style. Letting myself out of the truck, I stopped short when I noticed him standing in front of the store, staring at me.
“What?”
He had the smallest, most amused smile tugging at his lips. “Your hair.”
I walked toward him. “What? Is it all fucked up?” I started tousling it, pulling at the tangles.
“No. It looks nice. I’ve never seen it down.”
I thought about it. I always kept my braids in at the gym. I wasn’t trying to have it ripped from my scalp.
“Oh.” A hot blush crept up my neck. “Thanks.”
I slipped in the door past him toward the counter. He proceeded to spend five whole minutes explaining flavors, toppings, mixes, and syrups to add.
After I finally elected for a simple vanilla with raspberries on top, and he went with chocolate with Oreo pieces, we found a small table and sat down.
He watched intently as I tried it, waiting for a reaction. I was pleasantly surprised.
“So?” I glanced up at him. “What do you think?”
Swallowing my spoonful, I nodded. “I’m impressed. Still like ice cream better.”
He rolled his eyes digging into his own cup.
“So,” I started, mixing my raspberries in. “you think you’re ready to talk about it?”
He stopped, his spoon halfway to his mouth, and eyed me curiously. “Why do you want to know?”
My yogurt was already starting to melt. “I’m just wondering. You were pretty upset tonight.”
He just nodded, looking into his cup, pushing the Oreos around. “I was.”
“You don’t actually have to tell me. I just know from experience that it usually helps.”
“Does it?” He still wasn’t looking at me.
“It can. Especially with someone who doesn’t know about it.”
I watched as his throat moved when he swallowed. “I’ve got a friend…” He stopped. “Had a friend. He passed away a couple years ago.”
I just sat, watching him, giving him space.
“We released a song with his band. It was a tribute sort of thing.” Dropping his cup, he leaned back. “Anyway, it came out about a week ago.”
He had stopped speaking, fingernail picking at the cuticle on his thumb.
“And it made you upset?”
“It hurt.” The sound of his voice was a soft echo, the words catching behind his tonsils.
The overwhelming temptation to stand up and wrap my arms around him gnawed at me as I watched his eyes well up, his face twisting to try and push them back down.
Instead, I settled on reaching a hand across the table, slipping my fingers around his wrist.
His eyes gazed up at me, and he gave me the most heartbreaking smile.
“I’ll be alright. It was just a gut punch, you know?”
Grazing a thumb over his tattoos, I stared at him deeply, attempting to convey my condolences.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Noah.”
A sniffle cleared the air, and he lifted a hand to make quick work of wiping his eyes.
“Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it.”
-
After yogurt, I made it a point to make sure Noah had my cell number in case he ever needed to talk. I almost regretted it, as he had been sending me memes nearly since we parted ways last night.
When I stepped into the gym, the energy was fervent. Fighters rolling around the mats in all directions, preparing for the approaching competition.
I made my way to the back, now quickly becoming a normal routine, and hid my excitement when I was met with chocolate brown eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile.
Noah was sitting on the mat, stretching his long limbs, so I quickly set my bag down and joined him. Each time I would change positions, a finger would come up to poke me in the side, making me almost fall.
“Knock it off!” I swatted at his hand, an involuntary giggle escaping.
“Just making sure you’re loosened up! I’m not taking it easy on you!”
I shook my head, standing back up straight. “Is that what yesterday was? Because I think my tailbone is bruised now.”
He cackled. “You want me to rub it for you?” He threw a wink at me, and I felt my insides spasm.
“Not necessary. Just remember, I’m a lady.”
He scoffed loud. “Yeah, and I’m an acrobat.”
My jaw dropped. “Oh, you’re in for it Sebastian.”
We had been grappling for longer than normal, each round both of us wanting more. We would laugh when we made the other tap out, mocking each other playfully, forcing the other to be even more savage during the next match. Our bodies were both broken out in a heavy sweat, slipping over each other and leaving a wet sheen on the mat.
"Motherfucker!" I squealed when he pulled me up in another arm bar while I kicked my legs up, trying to hook onto him anywhere I possibly could.
"C'mon doll, tap out."
I snarled at him, trying not to jostle my arm too much. My hips fought for leverage, but his legs over my stomach made it impossible to lift myself.
"You're not getting out of this, Y/N. Tap out."
"Fuck you!"
He chuckled. "If you insist."
Fucking perv.
After another two minutes of struggling, I finally huffed and tapped his shin. He released me instantly, popping up on his feet.
"Sorry, doll. We need to work on that one." He sprayed water in his mouth and I glared at him from where I sat on the mat.
"Quit calling me doll."
He smirked, walking over to hand me my own water. "Why? You know you like it."
I snorted. "No, I fucking don't."
"You do."
Rolling my eyes, I kicked at his legs. He just laughed at me.
Plopping down on the mat next to me, he bumped my shoulder. "You're improving a lot, you know."
I smiled. "Thanks. I feel like I am."
"The arm bar is the worst. I can barely get out of them myself."
Leaning back on my hands, I stretched. "Ugh, I should get home."
Rising up on my feet, I made my way over to my bag.
"Oh."
This made me turn around. Did he sound...sad?
"What?" I asked him while wiping my forehead with a towel.
"I was just having fun." He stood, walking to his bag and mirroring my actions.
This made me smile. "Same time tomorrow?"
He pulled his lips to the side, thinking about something he wasn't saying out loud. I ignored it, now wiping the sweat from the back of my neck.
"I mean, or we could," He hesitated, grinning and looking nervous. "hang out?"
I dropped my towel back in my bag. "Hang out?"
"Yeah, like last night."
"You want to get yogurt again?"
He shouldered his bag, and I did the same. We walked toward the edge of the mat, bowing out.
"We don't have to. Could get pizza?"
"Mm, I don't eat heavy after a workout."
He nodded. "Right." We made our way out of the gym. "We could...go to my place?"
My eyebrows shot up, surprised. "Your place?"
His eyes popped open wide, just now realizing what he had suggested, and how it sounded.
"I just mean to hang out! We could like, order food and play video games or something?" His words came out rushed, nearly stumbling over one another.
I smirked, pulling my hoodie over my head to protect from the chill. "I'm a sweaty mess."
"So am I." Noah took a step into my space, eyes looking down at me. "Doesn't bother me."
Ending up at Noah Sebastian's house was not on the agenda for today. Somehow, however, I stood in his living room, eyes darting around, hand firmly grasping my gym bag.
"You want something to drink?"
I snapped out of my trance and looked at him. "Uh, sure."
My feet followed him while he listed off the options. "I've got water, Gatorade, green tea, and Dr. Pepper."
Opting for water, he reached into the fridge and tossed it at me, grabbing one for himself and motioning for me to follow after him. He lead me up a tall, wrapping staircase down the hall to a bedroom at the end. The room was obsessively clean, making me feel wrong just stepping foot inside.
"This is it. It's not much." He ran a hand through his hair, spreading his arm out toward the room.
His words were comical, given the room was massive. A large, king sized bed the centerpiece. A rolling trunk sat on the floor at the edge, and his comforter and pillows were black. Tucked into the corner was a computer desk with a double monitor gaming setup perched on top. There was a loveseat futon sat on the side of the room with a small table sitting in front. Various anime figures adorned the surface of the table, and LED strip lights hung along the perimeter of the room.
"I didn't, uh," His face was turned up in a grin. "really think about what we would do once we got here."
Taking a careful step into the room, I smiled back at him. "Food?"
His eyes widened, and he pulled his phone from his pocket. "Right! What do you feel like?"
Attempting to ease the awkward tension, I walked over to the couch and sat down. "I'm pretty simple. Anything works."
He was scrolling, looking at his screen. "Sandwiches?"
I leaned back on the couch, nodding. "Sure."
After about an hour, we had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of him sitting in his computer chair, and me on the couch, while he chatted between bites of his sub.
"We've only been back from tour for like, two weeks?" He set his sandwich down, wiping his face with a napkin. "We haven't made plans for any more shows yet. We need to take some time to prepare the re-release of the album."
I was chewing my food, being wildly careful not to drop anything on the couch. "Have you decided when it will be released?"
He shook his head. "It's more up to the label, but it's not ready yet anyway."
"The last album was good."
His eyes became almost glittery, hearing what I said. "You've heard it?"
"I listened to it once or twice." I smirked, trying to hide my face with my sandwich.
"Just the last album?" He had me. He knew I was bluffing.
"Well, I pulled you up on iTunes when I realized you were a musician."
His tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his bottom lip. "Which is your favorite song?"
Without thinking, I spoke. "Dethrone."
The shit-eating grin that crawled over his face had me giggling nervously.
"I like working out to it."
He stood, crumpling the paper from his sandwich and tossed it in the garbage. He flopped down next to me on the couch, only inches between us. I set the half of my sandwich on the paper laid out on the table.
"Well, I'm glad you like our music." He was balancing his head on his palm, triumphant smile on his face.
"Are we just going to talk about you the whole night?"
"Oh, you want to talk about you? We can do that."
I leaned back. "Like?"
"Favorite movie."
"The Crow."
He quirked a brow, but didn't question further.
"Favorite TV show?"
"Buffy The Vampire Slayer."
He laughed at that. "Seriously?"
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't hate on Buffy."
He threw his hands up in defense. "Hey, it's a classic." He tapped a finger on his chin. "Favorite place?"
"Place, as in...location?"
"Or whatever it means to you."
I had to think about this one. "My room."
"Really?"
I just nodded. "It's mine. I have it set up exactly how I like it. My roommate is mostly who decorated the rest of the apartment. It's nice, but my room? My room is all me."
Tightening his lips, he gave a look of approval.
"Fair enough." He took a moment to think. "Favorite food?"
"Ah," I stretched my arms out. "Probably Japanese."
He smiled. "Yeah? Same."
He took a while to think over his next question, really working on it.
"Favorite anime?"
Uh-oh, he caught me.
"Oof." I averted his gaze. "I actually don't really watch anime."
I expected a more energetic response, but instead he just said, "No? Why not?"
I shrugged. "Could never get into it? I watched one all the way through, but I couldn't find another that interested me."
"Which one?"
"Tokyo Ghoul."
His eyes lit up. "That's my favorite." He reached over, grabbing a PlayStation controller off of the table and switching it on. When the device surged to life, the background showed an illustration of Ken Kaneki in his ghoul mask, red eye bleeding.
I smiled. "It's the only one that held my interest."
"You've never tried Attack on Titan?"
Shaking my head, I looked back at him. "Never heard of it."
"Want to give it a try? It's dark. You might like it."
"Sure."
He took a few moments to get the show prepared, and I took the opportunity to finish my sandwich, tossing the paper out.
"You want a blanket?" He turned the room light off, turning the LED's up to a warm white light, giving the environment a comfortable feel.
"I'm okay, for now."
He sat down, keeping at least half a foot of distance between us, and began playing the show.
I wanted to pay attention, I really did, but his hand was resting on the couch, fingers splayed out right next to my leg, and it was all I could think about. His eyes were trained on the TV, which made it harder not to stare at him. His features were so striking; eyes a deep brown, hair pushed back and hanging lazily, tattoos littering nearly every inch of his skin. I felt myself salivate while wondering where all he was tattooed, and if I would have the chance to see them.
In an attempt to distract myself, I began removing my braids, taking a second to shake my hair out before I ran a hand through it, trying to get comfortable. I tucked legs underneath myself, my shorts making me feel more exposed than I would've liked.
That's when I felt his eyes on me, covering every inch of me. His fingers were so subtly slipping closer to my thigh on the couch. I tried breathing, but keeping a steady pace was impossible when he was staring.
How far could we take this? How much did I want to allow?
I shifted casually, clearing my throat, and letting the skin of my leg brush his hand. I watched as his eyes shot down to the connection, not moving an inch. His fingers were cool against my warm skin. I leaned back on the couch, pressing my leg closer to him.
His hand slipped, then, up the side of my leg, coming to rest on the top of my thigh. I felt my lip twitch, so I leaned into his hand, pressing my skin into his palm.
When I finally dared to look over, he was staring directly at me, face unwavering, looking absolutely ravenous.
The tension struck me, ripping a cord inside my chest. I wasn't going to sit like this forever.
I leaned forward, taking hold of his shoulder, and pulled my face impossibly close to his. His eyes roamed over me, contemplating his next move. The hand he had on my leg was now wrapped around my back, holding me in place as I stared at him, waiting.
I counted six calculated breaths before he finally leaned in, pressing his lips to mine, and I took my time inhaling his scent. He smelled like the woods; earthy and pine mixed with salt.
The hand he had holding my back pulled, pressing me closer to him. I opened my mouth to allow his tongue to slide across my teeth, licking into my lips. A low moan escaped me, and it was like a switch had flipped.
His mouth was hungrily attacking mine, using the same energy he typically exhausted back in the gym. His arms flipped me back, landing me on the cushions, and pressed himself against me.
I hooked my left leg on his hip, using steady pressure to keep his waist pushed flush to my body, my hips grinding against him.
Humming into my mouth, he pulled his face back, studying me for a moment. I laid, mouth open and breathing heavily, staring up at him.
"You're so fucking sexy, you know that?"
Rolling my eyes, I leaned my hips up, pressing against the hard bulge in his shorts. "You seem to think so."
He hissed, applying the same pressure back against me. "I have for a while now."
"Yeah?" I let one hand snake down between us, pressing against his cock over the fabric. "Now that you have me here, what do you plan to do?"
A soft, whispering whimper left his lips. "I've got some ideas."
He crashed his lips back down, nipping and biting at my lips, and began making his way down my jaw. His teeth grazed my pulse point, licking a stripe up my windpipe.
"Well," I breathed out. "you going to act on those ideas? Or just lick me all day?"
His head snapped up, and the darkest, most mischievous grin graced his features, which made a chill run up my spine.
"So fucking glad you asked."
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