#tutor tan

[dreaming-moonlight]

someone please write an office au/neighbours au chainpun friends to lovers with single dad!pun (maybe he adopted, maybe it's actually his nephew but his sibling is no more so he's the guardian now) starring penguin being spoiled by both chain and pun but with chain being slightly strict and melting into a puddle when pun and guin make puppy eyes and just overall cute domestic shit cause we only get like 4 minutes of chainpun every damn episode i p l e a d you

[tsukiyadori]

Reading+Listening Log 2024.09 - September

Previous: Reading+(Watching)+Listening Log 2024.08 - August

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Reading languages: German, English, French, Japanese, not listing which was what. (There’s also been some feeble attempts at Chinese, but that was more music.)

Titles are as I’ve read them either first or most and thus remember it for that title mostly

Not going to bother putting in the original titles of translated reads unless there is something worthy of note to it

Cursive titles have been completed

If it says a volume number, it may mean it has been finished or is still in progress

Some notes’ content may be subject to repetition here and there, as I also copied some older notes from casual conversations over and didn’t go through any rounds of cutting things down.

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SEPTEMBER

A new Jeweler Richard volume has come out. I have still not read the last one… And I do remember whining about messing up the date of that one's digital release in October 2023. Which means, It's been over a year now I started these logs, and I am somewhat amazed that they have kept on this long.

(classified) level one has now been vanquished. There are things I'd want to ramble about it, but it'll still have to wait. Here is hoping I still remember all of it…

Also, a non-weeb/otaku read since a long while. And I immediately regretted it...

Light Novels/Web Novels/Asian Novels:

Everyone Loves the Cannon Fodder Rosmei Preview Fushi no Kami v1 Sasaki & Peeps v1 The Apothecary Diaries v3 The Blessing of Liefe: Leave This Magical Letdown Alone! v1 The Eminence in Shadow v3 The Executioner and Her Way of Life v1 The Isolator LN v5 The Saint's Magic Power is Omipotent LN v1 Your Forma v5-6

Western Novels:

Der Mensch erscheint im Holozän // Max Frisch

Manga:

A Livid Lady's Guide to Getting Even: How I Crushed My Homeland with My Mighty Grimoires (Manga) v3 A Side Character's Love Story ch52-57.4 Ano Natsu ga Houwa suru. ch21.2 Are You Okay with a Slightly Older Girlfriend? ch23.3-29.1 Asahina Wakaba & Her Chubby-Chubby Boyfriend ch1-7.1 Ascendance of a Bookworm Part 3 (Manga) v3 BL Game no Shujinkou no Otouto de aru Koto ni Ki ga Tsukimashita ch20 Beast Tamer ch7-19 Buta no Liver wa Kanetsushiro v3 Closer Heartbeat ch8-29 Dahlia lässt den Kopf nicht hängen v3-6 Daijuukou to Unicornis no Otome ch16.2-17.2 Domestic na Kanojo v18-20 Duchess in the Attic (Manga) v3 Firefly Wedding ch11-23 Girl Crush ch66-67 Goodbye, Overtime! This Reincarnated Villainess Is Living for Her New Big Brother (Manga) v2 Haikyu v42-43 Hallo, ich bin eine Hexe und mein Schwarm wünscht sich einen Liebestrank von mir v4ch20 Harebare Biyori ch26 Hari to Hitsuji no Fune ch12.1 How I Attended an All-Guy's Mixer ch17-29 How a Single Gold Coin Can Change an Adventurer’s Life ch16-20 I Can Go Adventuring by Myself, Mom!: The Son Raised by the Strongest Overprotective Dragon-Mom ch1-2.1 I Parry Everything: What Do You Mean I’m the Strongest? I’m Not Even an Adventurer Yet! (Manga) ch1-3 I don't want to work anymore ch22-22.2 I'm Not Even an NPC In This Otome Game! ch1-4.5 I'm a Noble on the Brink of Ruin, So I Might as Well Try Mastering Magic (Manga) ch7-11 Kemutai Hanashi Skimming up to ch31.1 Kijima-san & Yamada-san ch24.3-25 Kimi ni wa Todokanai ch42-43 Knitter's High ch30.2-3 Koisuru (Otome) no Tsukurikata ch84-87 Kono Koi wo Hoshi ni wa Negawanai ch16.1 Living With My Brother's Wife ch75-89 Mr. Mallow Blue ch31 My Housemate Sano-kun Is Just My Editor! ch3.2-9.1 Okazari Ouhi ni Nattanode, Kossori Hataraki ni deru koto ni Shimashita ~Usagi ga Iru no de Hitorine mo Sabishiku Arimasen!~ ch29.1 Reincarnated as a 15-Year-Old Queen: I’m an Ex-office Worker, but the Young King Is Interested in Me?! ch1-2 Seraph of the End ch131-140 Shinde Miro to Iwareta no de Shinimashita. ch13-16 Shojo Null ch2-33 Shuumatsu Touring ch39.3-40.2 Sonna Kazoku nara Sutechaeba? ch78 Strawberry Love ch8.3-12.1 The 6th Loop: I'm Finally Free of Auto Mode in this Otome Game ch11.3-15 The Angel Next Door Spoils Me Rotten ch14.1-215.3 The Daily Life of a Middle-Aged Online Shopper in Another World ch1-3 The Emperor's Caretaker ch1-6 The Eternal Fool's Words of Wisdom: A Pawsitively Fantastic Adventure (Manga) ch1, v2ch7-12 The Ex-Villainess’s Unsightly Daughter ch1-6.2 The Greatest Magicmaster's Retirement Plan - The Alternative - ch1-4.4 The Magic in this Other World is Too Far Behind! (Light Novel) v1p3 The Prince's Keeper: The Cursed Prince is Too Fluffy to Resist! ch3.2-6 The Royal Tutor v10-17 The Vexations of a Shut-in Vampire Princess ch4.3-9 Trying Out Alchemy After Being Fired as an Adventurer!: Frontier Settling? No Problem, Leave It to Me! ch3-8.1 Unnamed Memory ch39.1-2 Watashi wo Tabetai, Hitodenashi kaimaku3, 40.1-2 Yakuza Reincarnation v1-4ch16 Yomei Ichinen to Senkokusareta Boku ga, Yomei Hantoshi no Kimi to Deatta Hanashi ch11.3-13.2

Webtoons:

A Royal Princess with Black Hair ch66-97 Can the Grand Duke and the Marquis be Friends? ch44-58 Fair Wind Scroll ch1-29 For Stella ch34-61 Ice Lamp: The Chronicles of Kira ch57-67 Moriarty's Perfect Crime ch1-8 Taberare Usa ch119-122

Music/Music Videos:

RADWIMPS - Suzume (Suzume No Tojimari) [Dante Levo and Kindred Remix]

Zhou Shen - 铃芽之旅

Zhou Shen - Shenself - 02 - 蜃楼 Mirage

Zhou Shen - Shenself - 08 - 缝合

Zhou Shen - Shenself - 11 - 没关系

Zhou Shen - 我的答案

Zhou Shen - 人是_ (电影《流浪地球2》定义主题曲)

Zhou Shen, Terry Zhong - 春雪

Zhou Shen - Endless Sailing（电视剧《三体》主题曲）

Zhou Shen - 永恒孤独（《三体》电视剧主题曲）

G.E.M. - 面壁者 (《三体》动画片尾主题曲)

谭维维 - 歌者 《三体》广播剧最终季主题曲

咻咻满 - 《歌者 Singer》 Cover 【三体 Three Body Problem】 广播剧最终季主题曲

咻咻满 - 《奇点》 三体 同人印象曲

Zhou Shen - 浮光

谭维维 - 3811 - 09 - 小娟 (化名)

TommyMuzzic - Different Kind Of Beautiful

TommyMuzzic - Different Kind Of Beautiful (8D Audio)

Alec Benjamin - Different Kind Of Beautiful (Piano Version)

Alec Benjamin - Different Kind Of Beautiful

Notes:

Fushi no Kami v1: I FINISHED IT. Good heavens, that took since spring to finish it. The world setting really isn't uninteresting, but all that Maika cheese was starting to get me cheese nausea. MC fellow is going to town now it seems, so here is hoping less Maika, and it makes for a more smooth read for me.

Sasaki & Peeps v1: That equally took several months. I'm not sure what it is, but while I find the plot lines not even uninteresting, reading it is a complete slog. I can't really pinpoint the why. What I do know what made me go from considering to dropping it to probably actually doing it is the end note with that neighbor girl. That's such a misguided conclusion she comes to, and it's not like anyone made any such advances or taught her that toxic way that you could say she was brainwashed, especially not from the MC to whom she is directing it now. It's…. ouf. The magical girl is equally just a bit ????, and it's unfortunately not too much the sort of ? that made me intrigued. Other than that, it's refreshing to have an isekai with regular switching back to present reality, but somehow the addition of psychics was reminiscent of the setup of The Isolator sans aliens kinda lowered that contrast of real world vs. fantasy isekai. Granted, it still managed to make do having all of it without feeling exactly cramped. I do wonder what made it such a hard read for me…

The Blessing of Liefe: Leave This Magical Letdown Alone! v1: The third of it those perfectly light romance reads following the two last month, and ouf. I think I ran out of steam there. MC is nicely badass, but the romance thingy kinda came out of left nowhere. If the male lead was introduced before his illustrated dashing entrance to find MC kneeling down looking for a memento trinket, to then turn out, they were childhood friends, then I must have completely missed it. The thing with having no "5-elements magic? -> defective" seems to be getting to be another staple trope? Where did it even come from originally? (Have to say, Dahlia in Bloom employs it in a much more interesting way.)

The Eminence in Shadow v3: I'm entirely not sure anymore what this even about now. Except there's Shadow doing whatever somehow badass and all his fangirls are being fangirls.

The Executioner and Her Way of Life v1: I had read some of the manga adaption in terms of tempo that one definitely reigns above the novel and probably also made it a bit of a drag to read. (Miss annoying Twin Tails did not help.) I was just considering feeling stupid for already stockpiling so many volumes when the end of the volume did raise some more interest again. I am rather simple-minded. Alternative timelines and time loops kinda reliably bait me.

Your Forma v5-6: Uh oh. I should have checked if there were more vols to come soon, because v6 is not just latest English, but also the latest JP volume. And v6 ends on such a bad cliffhanger! I recommend stopping after v5 until more volumes are out. That being said, it continues with its patterns of having an overly crimson red herring that no none seems to outright suspect, only for that one to have a double layer behind it. But v5 played that up with such ramping up the stakes and v6 completely escalated all and everything while dividing the cast into fragmented parties each with their own interests and priorities. There are so many side plot lines now, and it's juggling it while interconnecting it all and reaping some more payoffs from earlier volumes. So. When's volume 7 coming?

Der Mensch erscheint im Holozän (Man in Holocene): Oh hell darn it. I should have immediately recognized Max Frisch as the same author of Homo Faber. (Whom after that one I really had never wanted to touch again.) His works do leave a lasting impressing and footprint - and it's one I'd love to shake off if I could, because I consider it existential poison to the mind. The plots of those two titles are quite diffrent, but there is a common theme behind it. The futilness of struggle. Powelessness against your circumstances. The world. Life itsef. It'll all end for you at some point and the world will just go on, even with you out of the picture. It's a peculiar sort of gloom that is very earthly and all the more chilling for it, because it's too just a bit too realistic. And just so, so gloom. In this particular one your don't even have the kinda asspully incest inducing coincidence of Homo Farber. It's just about an old man, a widow living alone and not having any much connection to the people in the village, stuck in some real bad rainfall back in the 1980-ish, unstable electricity. And he's there, plastering notes, snippets of knowledge on the wall and slowly and steadily deterioates. What first looked like a descend to insanity because of being a man that really, really should not have been left alone, with struggling with isolation, desolation and pure boredom (this could also be about corona isolation) turns out to not be simple insanity, or not just that, but also dementia. And ouch. From Pagodas build from Crispbread to stave off the hours on the clock and night, to Genesis, Pythagoras, dinosaurs, local Swiss geography, an attempt to escape the place, abadoning halfway, books cut apart and out, chestnut cancer, and…. kitty roasted over fire, because. No real reason really. Beyond probably subtle desparing. There's just this whole sense of helplessness and the ending is just the daughter coming and talking to him like a child full of sorrow and then the place just goes on. Just without him. And there's the whole escape episode where he tries a mountain hike in the rain to go from that village over to Basel. And it's just "what does Herr Geisar want in Basel!". The sheer pointlessness of all. Like humans are pointless. Very much. Somehow we're strangely still there tho.

(Classified) v1 finished: There is a scene where the male MC goes like "How could I, to this day, not know about this?" and my first sentiment on that line was: Right, how did I not about this series? Not that it didn't cross my radar before, but never in a way to really make me pick it up before. There is a sense sense of alienation to the world, while still being perfectly integrated to its social structure, but still maintaining optimism and just doing your best bit by bit to improve the world and the lives of the people in there one way or another, is a mood that probably is just healthy. Also the female MC is still giving me all the aroace vibes imaginable. And (well of course T_T) the other MC has gone cheese infected. Pretty badly, too. But is in full blown denial for the perfectly followable reasons. Which makes this a sort of my second worst personal nightmare, and I was wailing a lot when that descended. I'd have loved them to continue what they had decided on, but maybe, it'll actually find a middle ground of how to reconcile one with the other. Could ramble a whole lot more on this, but it'd have to come end of the year.

Wandering Earth, Three Body Problem Wikipedia Pages: Well, it got there from the fan MV to the Wandering Earth movies and Zhou Shen's Mirage song the month before. And as usual these days I just don't get myself really to actually watch the thing (beyond the trailers anyway). So I read the wikipedia pages instead. And then I clicked on the author of the short stories it was based on and then landed on Three Body Problem. Which I wound up reading all the summaries, too. Sounds rather very interesting, so onto the book queue it went, but then I missed the timing to actually start it because JNC expiry deadlines. Oh well… Maybe still this year.

Domestic na Kanojo v18-20: v18: This buning cheese dumpster suddenly got queer, accompanied by a suicide story, which was kinda not trash, only to then follow up with some very horny-porny show-offs doubling down. And then it ends on a really creepy note. I think this may be the most packed vol so far of having multiple plot strings strung along. (The gay part actually ended wholesome, but looks like Miss Doomed to Suffer MC is getting the creep card, I'm starting to wonder if she is going down a checklist of everything cheese bad.) v19 while reading: Creep. Creep. Also, why shove that that mundane cheese side quest in, can we get the creep arc over already? CREEEEP 🤢 Blegh. The author has it in for Hina, does she? Okay, that sure escalated…. v20: near death netherworld drama, but of course. Also that Elephant Trumpet Rising to the Sky…. well, I give it, the visual presentation was pompous and it does its job to lighten the mood. Also Hina has just signed her final death by cheese suffering-sentence after all. Everything in that world truly is in to torture her, including herself. Everything after…. is being back to to roots that is its dumpster ecchi antics trash form. Can't say it is all that interesting in terms what follows, I mean, this is Natsuo's harem member 4 or 5 or something, and she clearly stands no chance anyway…. And as for the main trio. Just really, bigami is your solution. Even if it's not lawfully allowed, just do it already. How come nobody's even contemplating the idea? (Especially when it actually already made that queer side quest trip.)

Haikyu v42-43: That last game in their school days was honestly…. kinda boring to me. That after time skip felt a bit more fresh. Not much to the ending anymore, but still some volumes. It's nice to see not just soem short epilogue, but a whole arc about folks being adults later on past the school setting.

Kemutai Hanashi Skimming up to ch31.1: I was following it on pivix, and while I had a vague idea that there were more chapters you could buy single I stuck to pixiv, because the slow release there kinda just sit well with how it has this contemplative nature. And I am buying the print books anyway. (Which are also ahead of pixiv as of v4.) Turns out, it's mainly released on some other plattform and over there's it's vastly more ahead. With yet too little time to read through it all, I skimmed through it and there's a whole bunch, like a real whole that can be said and then some more that can't be said yet, so just this one thing for now: I mentioned this in my rambling of ch12 (the final chapter of v2 btw) before. This series's use of black for a mood is spectacular.

Like spectacular.

Breathtakingly so. (I gulped somewhat hard at that scene.)

Koisuru (Otome) no Tsukurikata ch84-87: Oh my gosh. I also did not have too much time to carefully read at first and I got a cheese arrow strinking me down, when skimming it (funnily the same happened for Hiura, but for diffrent reasons), but upon actually properly reading it, it goes on about some youthful existential crisis while also reminding you that it's still a RomCom, a compf fluff one at that. The Swooning arc is forthcoming! (Probably)

Seraph of the End ch131-140: I'm not entirely sure what I am reading here now. Beyond the two MCs kinda trolling everyone. Also Mahiru is having some more screentime and she's still cool and can her sister please stop trying to steal the show.

Shojo Null ch2-33 (finished): This showed quite some potential, but somehow it seems misplaces with Jump. It felt more like it would be more fitting at a place where series like Eden it's an Endless World would feel at home. There are some panels and pages that have quite striking artwork, but then it at many places tries to be an action manga and that's not something the author excels at, at least not yet. Felt rather stiff and more trying and succeeding there. Other than that the ending came fast, downright anticlimatic and while it still manages to have a somewhat round ending, it also feels more axed than not.

The Emperor's Caretaker ch1-6: MC who knows what she wants. art that isn't to shy to have a whole deal of a wardrobe and ornaments. You have my interest. Also looking like having upcoming amounts of cheese. … I will wail about that when it comes to it.

The Royal Tutor v10-17 (finished): Finally read down that pile. After it all: It was boring for me. It's trying to have some sort of compfy humor, but the humor just completely falls flat for me. If one liked the beginning mood tho they'd likely continue to like it. It doesn't really ever stray much from that specific mood.

Unnamed Memory ch39.1-2: Reaching the climax of volume 2's novel. Tinasha smirk towards Lanark after she grabbed the spell from him is just cool. Quite curious how badass the coronation will turn out~

Yakuza Reincarnation v1-4ch16 - Euh. Nope. Not for me. Lots of Beating them up and I kinda got vibes from Wind Breaker just more bloody and deadly and isekai and old geezer instead instead of yourthful puberty. Considering WB wasn't at all for me, I guess that one will remain dropped.

Yomei Ichinen to Senkokusareta Boku ga, Yomei Hantoshi no Kimi to Deatta Hanashi ch11.3-13.2: Darn it, some chapters expired on me again, so more gaps skipping it be… But color me surprised. This is the trope of terminal illness girl leaves guy behind whose world was turned upside down, but then looks like it's ALSO terminal illness guy leaves girl behind. (Who was the best friend of terminal illness girl, so her world gets toppled twice of sorts.) Curious where it goes now.

A Royal Princess with Black Hair ch66-107 (finished): The MC rocks. She so completely rocks. The plot itself is decently round and okay, nothing too outstanding, but Eucienne is just such a great character. Kinda trolling, kinda ridiculous, in her way just upbeat, has wits, is strong and steadfast and quick to act, has a heart full of steadfastness and kindness, while inbetween being a natural and a perfect actress she is pretty, elegant and just badass. I mean just look at this perfect smirk!

And paired with a guy who can keep up with and handle her. How nice that it even gets pointed out at the end as the one big firstmost thing why they are such a good match. It's also nice, that despite the obligatory cheese upcoming, while it may have used a bit of a timing asspull to seperate them, it also skipped over the awkward feelings have changed and by the time they meet again they are perfectly in synch as ever and more than anything they actually know it. No big awkward needs to figure an if out, rather just a short why. So the whole confession stuff at the end is more a thing of a matter of course (she did literally decided to not even try become empress and come back to him), no drama and then it's also seasoned with their usual snides and bantering. Most importantly it was kept crisp and short while adorned with some self-aware humor. Me likes. Somebody take those characters and put them together with some stellar plot, please? ._.

(The only thing that may have irked me, is that it had the need for the obligatory kisses and paint it as the grand curtain lowering climax. So much great build up and then it just has to find its goal in that? Tho the last chapter somewhat mitigates it, as Eucienne kinda goes and half crashes her own wedding. That's pretty cool.)

September's Music: Some more from last month continuing and 浮光 came back from earlier the year. 春雪 came in new and struck a pretty strong chord for several days on loop. Upon looking up the lyrics, it was of course another cheese song (something one sided, but anyway). After that I hit upon some songs of Three Body Problem, which, it turns out were in my to check out playlist already anyway. (It feels like Zhou Shen seems to pop it in and out of just about anything Chinese media by now.) The drama has some tracks of his and Endless Sailing is a terrific case of Enrish to behold. The Chinese version 永恒孤独 definitely sounds a tad better also I do wonder why love songs? Does the book have any? The summaries don't sound that way. Anyway even as such it's refrain line "Please don't answer" is kinda haunting while it also relevance to plot of Three body Problem. I have no idea wherefrom G.E.M.'s 面壁者 is – doesn't look like it's from the drama, but some animated thing? It has a nice melody to kinda just sink into. And then there's Tan Wei Wei/Sitar Tan's 歌者 and also that cover version from 咻咻满 (how bizarre that the cover video is the only place to find some english subs). What a terrific earworm. The first lines/refrain just keeps stiking in my head. "I glanced upon my love / I flew by her side / I presented her with a gift / which is a small piece of solidified time". Maybe it's because I had just learned "gift" from 春雪 and that made me understand the lines pretty much without having to do too much looking up, once I actually listened for the words? Not that I wanted to believe it, because, darn it. Another love song again? (Also why, does this series really have a lot about it?) Also yet again a song that isn't part of the drama series, but rather some radio drama's final season's opening theme? I did find some Chinese audio book reading on youtube, but doesn't look like it's this one. Anyhow tried some more Tan Wei Wei und then 小娟 (化名) struck out melodically, but upon looking up the lyrics it's. Uh. A song about domestic violence referencing some real murder cases. From whining over love songs that's a bit of a cold bucket of water… Then by the end of the month dropped Diffrent Kind of Beautiful by pure coincidence. Just another random play from youtube, but the moment I listened to it was basically when some certain other classified news dropped and it's also been around the same hour where I discovered that other plattform with all those up to date latest Kemutai Hanashi chapters. And while I was skimming those I wasn't perfectly listening to the song either, but the title line stuck and it's melody was a stragely fitting mood for this series, as were some fragments of its lyrics. "A diffrent kind of beautiful / …/ the kind that makes me turn around / … / The kind that takes my breath away and leaves me without air / maybe I'm delusional, it's just that kind of beautiful / … / I was hoping that I'd run into you here / but now I'm stumbling / and I can't seem to figure this out / … " Whiiiich, is a bit of a mishearing of it, and the gaps that I didn't pick up at first totally just make it another (one sided) cheese song, but what I selectively did pick up there in that moment kinda is felt exactly fitting to what Kemutai Hanashi is (specifically had to thing of the scene ch15).A whole series about stumbling and "I can't seem to figure this out", about a diffrent kind of beautiful. Breathtakingly so, a kind that makes me turn around.

[finelinefae]

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 

She read his bio beneath. 

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message. 

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really? 

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 

. . . 

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi. 

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered. 

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 

. . . 

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . . 

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled. 

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

[sturniphone]

𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . . 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃

in which . . . mean!chris fingers you in the library stacks, licking you stupid until you cum all over his hand, dazed and trembling

Chris is popular. Loud. The kind of boy who walks through the halls like he owns them, always flanked by his friends, laughing too loud, chewing gum with zero respect for the rules. He’s tall, tan, always in trouble, and never takes anything seriously. You’d never think someone like him would even look twice at someone like you. But he did. Or maybe he was just desperate to pass algebra.

He asked for tutoring with that cocky little smirk, voice slick with fake innocence. You had said yes because you were polite, because your teacher encouraged it, because even though he was mean, he was also stupidly beautiful, and it made your stomach flutter when he looked at you like that. You’d suggested the library. Quiet, safe. He’d just grinned. But he hasn’t touched his textbook once.

Now, you’re tucked between the shelves, hidden in the far back, where the older reference books gather dust and no one really wanders. It’s secluded. Still, it’s risky. And your heart thunders with every creak of the floorboards. but now The library is quiet, sun leaking through the tall windows in buttery streaks, dust dancing in the light. But you’re not in one of the open study areas—you’re tucked between the shelves, hidden in the far back, where the older reference books gather dust and no one really wanders. It’s secluded. Still, it’s risky. And your heart thunders with every creak of the floorboards.

You’re pressed back against a shelf, spines digging into your back, the hard edge of the metal uncomfortable against your shoulder blades. But you barely notice. Your glasses are slipping down your nose, breath shallow and fast. Chris is crouched between your legs, big hands pinning your thighs wide apart, and he’s got that awful, smug look on his face—the one that makes your stomach flip and your knees weak. ❝Stop squirming, nerd,❞ he mutters, mouth already glistening, eyes dark and hungry. ❝You’re the one who wore this little skirt.❞

You try to speak—some small protest, a whisper maybe—but it comes out as a pathetic little gasp when he hooks your panties to the side and dives back in like he owns you. His tongue licks a long, slow stripe up your cunt, and your knees threaten to buckle. ❝Don’t make a sound,❞ he warns lowly, pausing just long enough to drag his fingers through your slick and push two into you, slow and deep. ❝Unless you want someone to come see what the school nerd gets up to during study hall.❞

You shake your head frantically, biting your sleeve to muffle the pitiful whimper that escapes when his thumb circles your clit. You’re so wet already, soaking through the thin cotton of your panties, and it’s humiliating how easily you take his long fingers, how loud the wet sounds are in this quiet, sacred space. He chuckles against you, lips brushing your inner thigh. ❝Thought you were supposed to be shy, baby. Didn’t think you’d let me finger you in the damn library.❞

You look down at him through thick lashes, face burning, completely unable to form words. You’ve never done anything like this—never even thought you’d let someone see you like this. But Chris is relentless. Mean, cocky, gorgeous. His dark hair falls into his eyes as he works, mouth open and panting softly against your heat, licking messily like he knows how ruined it makes you. He flattens his tongue, dragging it over your clit again and again until your head thumps back against the bookshelf behind you. ❝Fuck,❞ he mutters, voice muffled, ❝tastes even better than I thought. Are you going to cum already?❞

Your thighs shake, and you try to close them, but he just grips tighter, spreading you even more. He slips another finger in, groaning at how tight your hole clenches around him, soaking and fluttering, sucking his fingers back in every time he pulls them out. ❝None of that, sweetheart,❞ he growls, curling his fingers inside you with practiced precision. ❝Take it. Be a good little slut and let me make you cum.❞

You cry out, barely holding it in, face buried in the crook of your elbow as you tremble. His fingers fuck into you fast now, slick and filthy, knuckles deep as he chases the way your pussy flutters and clenches. He tongues your clit at the same time—nasty and focused, licking you stupid, tongue soft and quick while his fingers thrust into your weeping cunt. Your free hand finds his hair, gripping and tugging, hips grinding shamelessly against his face.

❝Chris—❞ you sob out, ❝gonna—❞ ❝Yeah? Cum on my fingers, nerd. Let that pretty little pussy show me how grateful she is.❞ The coil in your belly tightens, then snaps all at once, your body jerking as you cum hard around his fingers, your tight little hole spasming, clenching and pulsing with desperate, wet sounds. Your thighs tremble, glasses slipping crooked on your nose, eyes wide and glassy.

He keeps going through it, mean and slow, licking between your folds like he wants every drop, tongue circling your clit again as your overstimulated hole sucks his fingers back in, milking them. Then finally, finally, he pulls back, fingers slipping from your pussy with a filthy squelch, licking them clean like he’s still hungry.

❝You should be thanking me, nerd,❞ he says, standing and dragging his thumb over your bottom lip. ❝Best tutoring session you’ve ever had.❞ And you just nod, dazed and flushed, clutching your notebook to your chest like it’ll keep you steady, brain still too foggy to remember your own name, let alone the equations you were supposed to be studying.

𝐋𝐎𝐋𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒 . . .  based on this ask, sorry if this is bad

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 . . .  @chrepsi @ph3ebssturniolo @sturnsxbbyeilish @j21l91 @pip4444chris

⌗ © sturniphone

[luster-less]

i think the weirdest part about falling into the haikyuu fandom is realizing how i used to see these characters one-dimensionally. like, you start the show thinking they’re just a bunch of volleyball dorks. nothing more, nothing less. you watch kuroo show up with his messy hair and snarky comments and you go "ah. the flirty one." and that’s all you think about him. you move on.

but then you’re on here for too long. you start reading things. fanart. fics. metas. suddenly you’re seeing posts about how kuroo’s actually smart—like nerd smart. how he’s a science guy. how he’s majoring in biology and tutors underclassmen and probably owns glasses he only wears in private. and the worst part? it starts making sense. you start going, "yeah… he would quote scientific metaphors during sex, wouldn’t he?" and boom. he’s not just the flirty one anymore. he’s the kind of man who’d press you up against a chalkboard and ask if you want to learn about anatomy.

and it keeps happening.

like sakusa. the fandom got him so wrong and so right at the same time. everyone saw the mask and immediately screamed "germaphobe!" and now every post is like "he won’t even hold your hand" but that’s not even canon. he’s cautious, not afraid of germs. the man wipes a volleyball, not your soul. he’s not squeamish. he’s careful. and that changes everything. because now you realize, oh. he’s not afraid to touch. he’s just particular. so when he does touch you? when he’s intimate with you? it’s intentional. it means something. and that thought? way filthier than "germaphobe" ever was.

then there’s mattsun. i watched the show thinking, "he’s chill. background character. probably smokes." but now? i can’t not associate him with the phrase "horse cock mattsun" like it’s his legal name. no one questioned it. we just saw him with that slow smile and relaxed posture and said, "yeah, he’s packing" and we believe it.

hinata? i used to think he was just cute. just energetic. little ball of sunshine. then he comes back from brazil all tanned and toned and suddenly the fandom’s like "he fucks now" and i didn’t even fight it. i just accepted it. post-timeskip hinata isn’t just confident. he’s got that kind of raw, unbothered, i’ve-been-around-the-block sex appeal that radiates off him. and i feel like i didn’t agree to that but also… thank you?

and osamu. osamu was just "atsumu’s twin who makes rice" that’s it. until the fandom made him tired and stern and warm. now he’s dad-coded. husband-coded. dilf-coded. sleeves rolled up, calloused hands, says very little but feeds you like it’s love. i didn’t plan to simp for a fictional small business owner but here we are.

what gets me is how natural it all feels. like the fandom didn’t invent anything. they just found it. they looked at crumbs and somehow baked an entire meal. and now i’ll never be the same. i watch the show now and all i can think is "you have no idea what tumblr’s done to you."

[ruebossanova]

her watch: the series - part 4: under the surface

bodyguard!abby x female!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: SLOWBURN, eventual smut, olderlabby x younger!reader, reader is spoiled & bratty but sweet, nyc rich socialite vibe (think gossip girl)

summary: tension lingers in the aftermath of the weekend's closeness, as you and abby navigate the blurred lines between duty and desire. moments of vulnerability build beneath teasing smiles and shared space. a visit from a flirtatious family friend ignites jealousy in abby, cracking her composure. you begin to push, sensing something deeper behind abby’s silence. a tutoring session brings more tension, more lingering looks—until abby finally breaks, revealing just how closely she's been watching. a shift takes hold, subtle but undeniable, leaving you both teetering on the edge of something neither of you can name out loud… yet.

masterlist

————————————————————————————

you woke up later than usual, sunlight stretching lazily across your bed, warming the soft cotton sheets tangled around your legs. your room was quiet, the whole house still, save for the faintest murmur of birdsong through your cracked window. it was the first time in days you hadn’t woken up with a racing heart — and maybe that had something to do with the memory of last night.

the kiss hadn’t been a kiss, not really. just your lips on her neck, a gentle, teasing press that lingered longer than it should have. but the tension it left in its wake was real. thick. electrifying. you could still feel the way abby tensed beneath your touch — not pulling away, but not giving in either. not yet.

you stretched and rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling for a long minute. your skin still buzzed from how close you’d gotten. how warm she was. how much you wanted more.

a soft knock on the door broke your thoughts.

“you up?” her voice. rough from sleep. guarded, like it always was. you smiled to yourself.

“yeah. come in.”

she opened the door slowly, standing there in her black tank and joggers, hair tied up in a lazy knot, a coffee in hand. “your mom texted. they’ll be out of the city until tomorrow night. meetings in D.C.”

“lucky me,” you said sweetly, sitting up. “guess that means it’s just us today?” abby raised a brow. “looks like it.” you leaned back on your hands. “good. i like it that way.”

her eyes flickered over you just for a second before she took a sip of her coffee. “go shower. we’ll figure out the rest of the day after breakfast.”

⸻

you met her downstairs, your outfit casual but still curated. soft cream-colored shorts and a baby tee. abby was already at the counter, slicing fruit like it was second nature — hands steady, movements efficient, always so composed. you watched her for a moment before sliding onto one of the stools.

“you always up this early on sundays?”

“used to be earlier,” she said without looking at you. “old habits.”

“military?”

“mm.”

you tilted your head. “that explains the muscles.”

that earned you a glance — nothing more, but it was enough to keep you grinning.

you ate in comfortable silence. the sunlight through the tall windows painted gold over everything — her tan skin, the sharp slope of her nose, the tired strength in her posture. there was something about watching her exist in your home like she belonged there that made your chest feel warm in ways you weren’t ready to unpack.

“what?” she asked, catching you staring.

you shrugged, popping a piece of pineapple into your mouth. “nothing.”

⸻

you ended up on the couch, legs thrown over her lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. she didn’t protest — just leaned back, one arm resting behind you, eyes half-watching the movie you picked.

your fingers toyed with the hem of your shorts, restless.

“why did you take this job?” you asked after a long pause.

abby blinked, eyes shifting to yours. “figured it’d be quiet. private security usually is.”

you laughed. “you thought i would be quiet?”

“i thought you’d be spoiled. didn’t realize you’d be…”

“what?”

she looked down, jaw ticking like she was holding something back. “sweet.”

you blinked, caught off guard.

“not what i expected,” she added softly.

you didn’t answer. just let your hand rest lightly on her thigh. she didn’t move.

⸻

the afternoon dragged you both outside. you lay in one of the pool loungers in your two-piece, the top small and pastel, the bottoms just a little cheekier than necessary. abby stayed in the shade, perched at the edge of the patio with a bottle of water and her ever-present distance.

you called her over eventually. “you don’t swim?”

“not today.”

“you’re gonna burn in all black,” you teased.

she shook her head. “i’m fine.”

but she did come closer, standing by the edge of the pool as you floated lazily on your back. your hair fanned around you like a halo, skin glowing under the sun. you watched her through heavy lashes.

“tell me something personal.”

she hesitated. “like what?”

“anything. a scar. a secret. something only i get to know.”

abby exhaled, hands on her hips. “when i was sixteen, i broke my arm trying to climb a roof to impress a girl.”

you grinned. “did it work?”

“she laughed. and kissed me anyway.”

“see? sometimes recklessness pays off.”

her eyes held yours. “sometimes it gets you hurt.”

⸻

dinner was simple. takeout eaten from mismatched plates at the island. you kept stealing glances, watching the way her muscles flexed as she leaned forward, arms folded on the marble. you wanted to ask more. press more. touch more. but you didn’t.

not yet.

later, she was outside making a call while you showered. you changed into your usual silky set — this one lavender — and sat on your bed waiting for her to say goodnight like she always did.

but this time when she came to the doorway, she didn’t leave right away.

“you good?”

you nodded. “stay a little.”

a beat.

then she walked in, slow and careful, sitting beside you on the edge of the bed.

you curled toward her, chin on her shoulder. “abby?”

“hm?”

“what are we doing?”

she didn’t answer.

you leaned in, close enough to feel her breath on your cheek.

and then, like every time before — she pulled back.

just barely.

but enough.

“we’re not doing anything,” she murmured.

you smiled, despite the ache. “yet.”

she stood slowly, brushing your hair back.

“goodnight.”

“goodnight.”

and when the door clicked shut behind her, you let yourself fall back into the pillows, heart pounding.

she was slipping.

and you were falling.

⸻

you woke to a soft rustle and the faintest creak of a door — not your own, but close enough to make your eyes blink open in the morning hush. pale light seeped through your curtains, casting everything in that still, silvery glow that only happened on slow mornings. your body was warm beneath your silk sheets, tangled somewhere between sleep and the lingering heat of last night’s almost.

you stretched slowly, arms above your head, your camisole sliding slightly as your ribcage expanded. you thought of the kiss you’d left on her neck. just one. but it echoed in your mind like thunder. the way her muscles had twitched beneath your mouth. the way her jaw had clenched. the way she hadn’t stopped you. not really.

you took your time getting ready that morning — moisturizing, brushing out your curls, picking a delicate outfit you knew would hug your figure just enough. casual, but curated. something sweet. your nerves were soft and low like a pulse in your stomach. you didn’t know what today would bring, but you hoped she’d still look at you like she had last night.

downstairs, the house was quiet. your mother was already gone, probably halfway to some uptown meeting. your father was always more of a night owl, so the morning hours were yours. and hers.

abby was in the kitchen when you walked in. coffee in one hand, the other wrapped lazily around the back of a dining chair. she looked… still. like she’d been standing there for a while, eyes fixed on something far away. her hair was tied up again, a few pieces falling out around her face, softening the sharpness of her jaw.

“morning,” you said, voice light, as you padded into the room.

she looked over at you slowly, eyes dragging from the hem of your shorts to your face. unreadable.

“morning.”

you walked past her, brushing close enough to smell the coffee on her breath, to feel the heat radiating off her. you could feel her eyes on your back as you reached for a bowl and some fruit.

“sleep okay?” she asked finally.

you glanced over your shoulder, a coy smile playing on your lips. “eventful dreams.”

her jaw ticked. she looked away, sipping her coffee like it might save her.

⸻

later in the afternoon, the two of you found yourselves in the sunroom, sprawled out on opposite ends of the long velvet sofa. the house was silent except for the distant hum of the AC and the occasional horn from down the street. you had a book in your lap, but your eyes kept flicking up — to her forearms, to her lips, to the way her legs stretched long and solid in those grey sweatpants.

“so,” you started, licking your bottom lip. “what made you want to be a bodyguard?”

abby didn’t answer right away. she shifted, resting her elbow on the arm of the couch, chin on her hand.

“i don’t know if i ever really wanted it,” she said finally. “it just made sense. after everything.”

you tilted your head. “everything?”

she looked at you. straight through you, almost. “i was in the military. it… wasn’t what i thought it’d be. when i got out, i didn’t want to sit still. didn’t want a desk. this was close enough.”

you blinked, surprised at the honesty. “do you like it?”

she looked at you again, something unreadable in her expression. “some days.”

you didn’t push, but you didn’t back down either.

“have you ever had to… protect someone like me before?”

“spoiled and nosy?” she teased, finally cracking a small smirk.

you gasped, laughing. “rude.”

“just honest.”

“but really,” you said, quieter now. “have you?”

she hesitated. “not like you.”

you met her gaze. “what does that mean?”

she didn’t answer. but she didn’t look away.

⸻

it was evening when things began to shift again — the sky painted in orange and pink outside the tall windows, casting long shadows over the hardwood floors. you were in the kitchen, barefoot and humming as you sliced strawberries for dessert. abby stood across from you, leaning against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest, watching you work.

“you always do that?” she asked.

“do what?”

“hum when you’re nervous.”

you glanced at her, cheeks warming. “who says i’m nervous?”

abby didn’t reply, just tilted her head slightly, studying you.

you held up a strawberry. “want one?”

she didn’t move, so you stepped closer, holding the berry just in front of her mouth. she looked at you for a second too long, then finally leaned in, biting it gently from your fingers. her lips brushed your knuckles.

you didn’t breathe.

her eyes were heavy on yours, unreadable.

“you’re playing a dangerous game, princess,” she said quietly, voice low.

you stepped closer, just enough that your knee brushed hers.

“maybe i like danger.”

and then — for a heartbeat — she leaned in. slow. so slow. her nose brushed yours, her hand resting at your hip, fingers flexing like she was already trying to stop herself.

“don’t,” she whispered. “don’t make me cross this line.”

you didn’t move. “then don’t make me feel like you already have.

her breath hitched.

but she stepped back.

⸻

that night, everything felt like it pulsed. every glance, every brush of her hand as she passed by you in the hallway. you were in your bed, blanket thrown off, one leg tucked under you as you scrolled through your phone in nothing but a long sleep tee and underwear.

a soft knock.

“come in.”

abby’s head appeared around the doorframe. “everything locked up. just checking on you.”

you nodded, biting your lip. “you always do your rounds in my room last?”

she didn’t answer.

you stared at her. “stay a minute?”

she hesitated. but then — she stepped in, letting the door close behind her with a soft click. she stood near the bookshelf, hands tucked into her hoodie pocket, jaw tight.

you sat up straighter. “you don’t have to be so tense around me.”

“i do.”

“why?”

she looked at you, really looked at you. “because you’re not a job anymore.”

your chest fluttered.

but she turned away, reaching for the door again. “get some sleep.”

you whispered, “night, abby,” as the door clicked shut behind her.

you lay back against the pillows, heart pounding, lips aching.

this was going to get worse before it got better.

and you couldn’t wait.

⸻

monday crept in on soft feet — slow, hazy light pouring through your curtains and settling into your bones. the quiet of the weekend had left a mark; it still pulsed behind your ribs, the way her hand had hovered near your hip, the warm trace of her breath at your cheek, the whispered almosts that clung to every silence.

you spent the morning in your room, curled into your textbooks and notebooks, headphones around your neck, a faint hum of music playing as you tried to focus. your tutor was due any minute — your father’s assistant had arranged it weeks ago, and you barely remembered until the buzz of the gate stirred the house.

you jumped a little, peeking out your window. and there he was — parker, tall and good-looking in the way boys like him always were. soft brown curls, a button-down just casual enough to suggest wealth without effort. parker had gone to your middle school, moved away for prep school, and somehow wound up circling back into your life through your father’s work.

you padded down the stairs barefoot, pink lounge shorts and a ribbed tank top hugging your frame, trying not to smirk as abby stood by the foyer — straight-backed, arms crossed.

“parker,” you greeted with an easy smile, brushing hair from your face. “you grew up.”

he chuckled, stepping inside with confidence and cologne. “so did you.”

abby’s gaze followed every word like a shadow. she said nothing. just hovered, watchful, silent.

parker leaned in a little too close as you led him to the study room. “your place is insane.”

“thanks,” you said lightly, tossing your hair as you glanced back — and caught abby watching. jaw tight. eyes hard. but her posture never slipped.

tutoring started as expected — you and parker seated side by side at the table, laptops open, pens scattered. he was helpful, surprisingly, and charming in that easy, practiced way. compliments slid from his mouth like second nature.

“you always this smart?” he asked, tapping your notebook with his pen.

you laughed softly, tapping his arm. “you always this flirty?”

“only with girls who can keep up.”

you felt the air shift behind you — abby had relocated to the doorway, arms still crossed, face unreadable but cut from glass. her eyes flicked between the two of you like she was tracking something much sharper than words.

you kept stealing glances at her, heart fluttering in your throat.

after parker left — lingering too long in the entryway, complimenting your hair and grinning like he owned the place — you shut the door behind him with a little sigh. abby was already halfway down the hall.

“you didn’t like him,” you called after her, teasing in your tone.

she paused, slowly turning to face you, arms still folded. “he’s not your type.”

you padded toward her, playful. “you don’t know my type.”

a beat.

then another.

abby’s eyes met yours — heavy and unreadable and full of static. “don’t i?”

the silence wrapped around you both, warm and dangerous. you didn’t say a word. neither did she.

but something cracked in her then — just a little. her jaw shifted. her gaze dropped to your lips, then your throat, then back up.

“abby,” you whispered, barely breathing.

she turned away.

“go finish your work,” she said, but her voice had lost some of its edge.

that night was a quiet one. no teasing. just low music in the background as you finished your homework at the dining table, while abby worked out in the living room — the weight of her presence pressing against you with every passing second. you tried not to look. you failed.

later, after a quick dinner and separate showers, you padded into your room in a fresh pair of shorts and a cropped sleep tee. you sat on the bed, scrolling through your phone when there was a soft knock.

abby again. her silhouette filling the doorway.

“everything secure,” she said, voice low, more tired than usual.

“thanks,” you replied, curling your legs under you. “goodnight?”

she nodded once, like she couldn’t trust her voice.

but before she left, you called after her. “abby.”

she stopped. turned.

you got up. walked to her. close enough to touch. and you did — just barely, fingers brushing her forearm. she didn’t move.

you leaned in, gentle. slow. your lips didn’t go to her mouth. instead, you brushed a soft kiss just beneath her jaw — right where her pulse lived.

she exhaled, sharp. her muscles flexed beneath your touch.

but she didn’t move.

you stepped back before you pushed your luck, eyes searching hers.

“goodnight,” you whispered.

she didn’t speak. just turned, slowly, and walked away.

but this time… she didn’t shut the door all the way.

and it felt like permission.

[gumigirl]

middle school sweethearts pt.2: highschool sweethearts — ft. megumi f × fem!reader

“you're supposed to use tangent, not pythagoras' theorem..” megumi groaned, his head in his hands at this point. despite being his best friend, that didn't make you any easier to tutor. it was almost like you were a total dud in mathematics. he feared you had dyscalculia.

“well, maybe it'd be a little easier if you'd actually explain it properly.” you scoffed back at him, eyes squinted at the large textbook infront of you both, fiddling with a mechanical pencil in your hand.

“what's so hard to understand? to use tan, it's just 'adjacent over opposite'. if you want to find theta, use tangent inverse.” he explained, for what felt like the millionth time with an exaggerated sigh. clearly it went through one ear and out the other, considering the almost incredulous look you gave him.

“whatever. can we just drop this entire thing? it's pointless, anyway.” you responded with a roll of your eyes, slumping against his side, your chin on his shoulder as you pouted.

“no way. if we don't fix this now you're gonna fail finals. up up.” megumi ushered, gently nudging you off of him, back into your original sitting position on the ground of his dorm room. you could only kiss your teeth while adjusting your position.

“c'mon, not even a tiktok break?” you pleaded, pouting at him. unfortunately, you weren't eleven anymore.

“it's barely been fifteen minutes.” he deadpanned.

“yeah, well it felt like two hours.”

the room would fall silent briefly, megumi simply staring at you like if you were a complete idiot— but in his own, weirdly affectionate way. until he sighed. “fine. ten minutes. but i'm teaching you trigonometric functions tonight whether you like it or not.”

[luigisbambinaaa]

Soft Spot Pt. 2 ~

summary: spring break trip to cabo, luigi gets wiped out, and you’re sent to help him ;)

content warning: smut, oral (both receiving), p in v, luigi gets bruised

an: hi!! thank you to everyone that liked, shared, and commented on part 1!!!! also thank u to my homie palmersluvr for help with the formatting tho im still figuring it out. idk the word count but this shit is sooo long but i had so much fucking fun writing this so i hope you all enjoy :)! take a shot for every single time i said “rhythm” lol.

part 1

————————

weeks passed, and despite the playful texts shared between you and luigi, he wasn’t able to come back for a second “appointment”.

not because he didn’t want to. but because midterms had everyone busy— especially him.

sleep schedules were fucked up, group chats barely active, and every inch of the library taken over by students running on iced coffee.

luigi had practically disappeared— only proof of his existence being the many students that he tutored making jokes about how their TA had a spot reserved in heaven for all the hard work he’s done for them.

and yet, despite the chaos, there hadn’t been a single mention of back pain from him or his friends.

if anything, everyone noticed he seemed lighter. maybe your hands really had worked some sort of magic.

and eventually you were all able to taste the sweet freedom of spring break. friends of friends all headed to cabo for a well deserved get away.

instagram buzzing with photo dumps of tan lines and tiny bikinis, camera roll full of coconut drinks, beach sunsets, and grainy late-night dinners.

the resort ridiculously beautiful— picked out by luigi and others. shady palm trees stretching over the infinity pool, balconies overlooking the ocean, music a constant hum in the background no matter the hour. every corner full of beauty.

spending mornings with your girls walking the shoreline, tucking cute little seashells into your beach bag. afternoons spent exploring, wandering through colorful local markets, vendors beckoning you over in spanish, taking polaroids of everything. chaotic dinners with messy seafood platters, one too many margaritas, and tables full of friends cramming in every space they could.

and always, luigi was there, lingering just close enough to keep you on your toes. the flirting having been buried under study guides and endless cups of coffee— but not entirely gone.

you felt it in the way his eyes lingered on you in your sundresses, in the way he saved the empty chair next to him for you, in the way your fingers would brush when passing certain items across the table, yet neither of you said anything.

it was the kind of tension that hung in the air without needing to be addressed aloud. sweet, aching, and unbothered— until it wasn’t.

all the boys had decided to go out early that particular morning to catch some waves, lugging huge surfboards down to the beach while you and the rest of the girls stayed behind for some late brunch at the resort cafe.

you were mid-bite into a piece of french toast when someone burst into the outdoor patio, face red and out of breath.

“luigi wiped out bad on a huge wave,” they panted, trying to catch their breath, “board slammed him in the back, he should be okay, but he’s out for the day. they took him back to the room to rest.”

your stomach dropped. you honestly didn’t even realize how much you’d been hoping he’d show up that day, maybe just for lunch or just to sneak a few glances at you.

“can someone go check on him?” one of your friends asked, glancing around the table. “he’s probably fine, just milking it. but still.”

many of them shrugged, too caught up in their delicious breakfast food or downing their drinks to volunteer.

“you’re the nicest one here and have the expertise,” another added, pointing her fork at you with a smile. “can you go make sure he’s still breathing? im sure he won’t bite.”

they didn’t know. shit, nobody knew about you two. and so you nodded, wiping your hands on a napkin and standing slowly.

you headed back to your room first— not wanting to show up empty-handed. grabbing some essentials from your suitcase like some peppermint oil, aloe vera, the same lotion you used on him in your dorm, all thrown into your tote bag.

when you stepped back out into the hallway, one of the guys had caught up to you and handed you a spare key card.

“he’s in one of the oceanfront suites so i figured you might need this since he’s probably bed ridden”

you mutter a thank you and walked a few doors down the hallway. with the door clicking shut behind you, you stood still for a second, just admiring.

everything was nicer, sleek, clean, and expensive. the king sized bed resembling a cloud , a perfect plush comforter thrown over. floor to ceiling windows letting in sunlight that kissed every surface in gold, and a soft sea breeze drifting in through his open balcony door. and then there was a hot tub, massive and polished. half sunk into the floor near the balcony, something out of a dream.

your breath hitched.

“luigi?”

you called out gently, stepping further into his room. and then you saw him.

sprawled out across the bed, shirtless, eyes half closed, with a pillow or two tucked under his lower back.

his swimming trunks were riding low, dangerously low. low enough that your eyes traveled down the faint trail of hair leading down his stomach— the one you didn’t get to appreciate too much before.

your fingers clenched slightly around the strap of your tote bag, heart skipping a beat.

“…hi.” he replies softly and shyly.

you don’t say anything at first, tossing your bag on the dresser and kicking off your sandals without a second thought.

the bed dips slightly under your weight as you carefully climbed up beside him, leaning in slowly, one hand going to cradle the side of his face, your fingers instinctively tangling themselves in his curls, scratching his scalp softly.

“what the hell happened?” you murmured, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheek. “how bad is it?”

he leaned into your touch just a little, lashes low and heat radiating off of him.

“hurts like a bitch,” he admitted, lips twitching into a tired grin, “but seeing you kind of helps.”

you rolled your eyes, but your thumb still stroked gently over his cheek.

“you’re such a baby,” you muttered, “let me see.”

he blinked up at you, hesitant. you pull back enough to sit on your knees, glancing down at the way his arm was draped over his stomach.

“come on, turn over so i can see, or do i need to do it for you?”

he grumbles something about you being bossy, but shifts anyway to let you get a good look. wincing slightly as he moved his arm, revealing an angry red mark blooming across his lower back and side— already beginning to bruise, dark and raw.

you sucked in a quiet breath.

“jesus, luigi…”

you reached for your tote bag and rummaged through it, pulling out the lotion and peppermint oil, warming it up in your hands.

“this might sting a little,” you warned.

“i trust you,” he murmured, eyes falling closed again.

your hands pressed carefully to his skin in slow, gentle circles at first, barely any pressure. and his breath hitched, not from pain, but from you and how you knew exactly where to touch without asking.

you kept your focus low, jaw clenching and unclenching, pretending not to notice the way his hips twitched slightly when your palms smoothed along the curve of his waist.

“relax,” you whisper, “I’ve got you.”

your fingers moved in slow, practiced motions, the familiar rhythm calming the both of you. he was quiet under your touch, face buried into a pillow, muscles slowly uncoiling under your hands.

“you’re so dumb,” you said gently, a little laugh slipping out. “what were you even trying to do? show off? impress the ocean?”

luigi letting out a small groan and barely lifting his head mumbles, “was tryna ride the wave,” his words slurred with exhaustion and comfort.

you pressed your thumbs in a little deeper to the sides of his bruises, careful but firm.

“and it rode you huh?”

“mhmmm…”

you smiled, shaking your head, continuing— moving a bit lower, tracing along the edges of his blooming bruises. he let out a low whimper, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, his fingers slightly curling into the sheets.

“seriously gi,” you murmured, softer now. “you could’ve really hurt yourself.”

“m’sorry,” he breathed, voice small now. “didn’t mean to.”

you leaned down just a little, hair falling over your shoulder as you whispered near his ear. “you gotta stop being reckless. who’s gonna fix you up next time if i’m not around?”

his only answer being a quiet, needy whine— his head tilting slightly towards you.

and with you leaning over him like that, face being close and hair brushing his skin, he lifted his chin just enough to press his lips to yours. soft and tentative. you froze just for a second, then kissed him back just as gently.

you’re the first one to pull away, giving his hair a light tug. “you better behave,” you whispered, breath warm against his mouth. “or i won’t finish your massage.”

he grinned, lazy and dazed. “im behaving,” he mumbled, already slumping back into the pillow like your kiss was enough to sedate him.

you scooped up a little more oil into your palms and worked quietly for a few more minutes— slow and careful movements over the bruising, his muscles loose now.

and then, a soft murmur:

“i think my back’s good now… think you could get my shoulders?”

…

“…and maybe my chest too?”

you smirked and glanced down at him.

“whatever you want princess”

he began to turn over, shifting on his side with a groan, but as you were about to guide him onto his back—

“wait not like this.”

before you could even reply, his hands slid over your hips and in one quick motion, he brought you right into his lap.

you let out a quiet gasp, straddling him now, palms braced on his bare chest as he looked up at you— eyes dark and blown out.

“like this.” his voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t say anything, just swallowed hard and nodded once. your fingers dipped back into the oil, rubbing it between your palms to warm it up before sliding your hands over his chest.

he was pretty still beneath you, save for the tiny shifts of his body. sharp inhales when your thumbs pressed into his skin, the subtle twitch of his thighs when you pressed too low.

“shit,” he breathed, voice hitching higher this time, soft and strained. “feels so good…”

your hands moved to his shoulders, thumbs circling into tight knots just beneath his neck. it was a bit of a stretch from your spot in his lap, so you leaned forward, your chest brushing against his, your breath grazing his jaw.

and then his lips found yours again, lazy and slow. he kissed you without urgency, one hand sliding to the small of your back, and the other on your thigh, trying to keep himself grounded.

you kissed him back, just as slow. before pulling away slightly, catching your breath, and going back to his shoulders as if nothing happened.

he groaned again, though not from the massage this time.

“not fair,” he muttered.

you laughed under your breath, going back to press into a particularly tight spot behind his shoulder blade.

“too bad.”

you leaned back down, lips finding his again and this time it gets heavier. his mouth opened beneath yours, teeth dragging your bottom lip between his, and his hips shifting beneath you.

he groaned into your mouth, deeper, and then—

his hips rolled up. just once. slow, instinctual, and desperate.

he sighed, lips parting as he dropped his head back into the pillow, his chest rising and falling fast under your palms.

“fuck…”

you didn’t move at first. just stayed still in his lap, enjoying the rise of fall of his chest. and then softly, you leaned in again.

you kissed the corner of his mouth— a gentle peck, then another, and another. then along his jaw. then that sensitive spot just below his ear, that always makes him shiver.

you worked your way down slowly, kissing along the edge of his throat, his collarbone, your mouth lingering all over as he tilted his head back to give you more access.

“baby…” he whispers, his voice wrecked.

his hands slide up your sides, slow and kinda unsure. when his fingers brushed the hem of your swimsuit coverup, you let your arms fall to your sides, silently giving him the permission he wanted.

he sat up slowly, groaning softly at the movement and peeled the fabric from your body in one slow motion, letting it fall somewhere in the room.

then his fingers reached the tie of your bikini top. he tugged at it gently, watching you the entire time. when you didn’t protest, he undid the knot with shaky fingers and let the top slip away.

his breath hitched.

“fuck, you’re—“

he didn’t even let himself finish before his mouth was already on you. soft kisses at first, then his lips closed around the swell of your breasts, tongue flicking, hands pressing you closer to him as you arched your back.

your quiet gasp became a whimper.

“oh…”

his groan followed instantly. he sucked a little harder, peppering warm, open mouthed kisses near your nipple.

“ you sound so pretty,” he mumbled against your skin. “don’t stop.”

then, without another word, he took your nipple into his mouth, gentle and almost hesitant at first. his tongue swirled around it, his lips closing in a tight, wet seal as he suckled, like you were his favorite lollipop.

you let out a sharp little moan, surprised by how sensitive you were and how good it felt to have him care for you as well. he groaned in return, the sound vibrating through your chest.

his hand slid up your spine, holding you steady as he moved over to your other nipple, showering it with the same attention— his tongue flicking, lips tugging just right to make you whimper again.

you threaded your fingers through his curls, breathing uneven, your thighs tightening around his hips as his mouth latched onto you. each moan that escaped your lips, pulled a groan from his— almost like he couldn’t help it, like your sounds were enough to unravel him.

your hips started to move before you even realized with small, slow rolls against his lap, the friction sending sparks between your thighs with every pass.

luigi’s breath hitched.

his hands gripped your waist tighter, thumbs brushing over your bare skin as he tried to ground himself, his eyes fluttering shut as your bodies rocked together in a lazy rhythm.

“fuck… that feels so good,” he murmured, forehead resting against your chest.

your fingers carded through his curls, your lips brushing over the top of his head, all tender and affectionate while your hips kept working him over.

but then—

a sharp inhale.

“ah- shit-“

he winced, body tensing up beneath you, and you froze instantly.

“your back?” you whispered.

he nodded, jaw clenched, and brows drawn tight.

“just moved a little weird, m’okay,” he exhaled, trying to wave it off.

you shook your head and cupped his cheek.

“nope. lay down babe. let me take care of you.”

he didn’t argue. just sank back into the pillows with a groan, arms falling to his sides like he had no fight left.

you kissed down his chest as you moved, slow and deliberate. letting your mouth explore every inch of his skin, from the curve of his pecs to the soft dips between his abs.

he was already breathing harder by the time you reached for the faint trail of hair leading down— that happy trail you admired earlier.

you licked a slow stripe down it and then another, watching him twitch slightly under you. his hips shifted again, his swimming trunks now tented and clinging low to his hips.

you hooked your fingers into the waistband, tugging them down in one smooth, letting him spring free, the weight of him softly slapping against his lower abdomen. his hissed, not from pain, but from need.

you hovered above him, eyes locked on his face as you leaned down and gave him a single, teasing kitten lick across the tip.

he groaned, loud and frustrated.

you did it again, this time even slower. and then another, barely brushing his sensitive underside.

his hips flexed, but you pulled back just in time, smiling softly.

“be patient,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his thigh.

you kept it at that— delicate little licks of your tongue that barely counted as relief. just enough to make him squirm, to make him whine, to keep him right there on the edge.

“please,” he gasped, hips twitching upwards only for you to press them down.

“please, i can’t— i need—“

but you didn’t give in. instead, your hands held his hips steady, fingers digging into his warm skin, and your tongue tracing lazy circles around his sensitive tip.

another kitten lick, then met with a breathless groan.

he was shaking now, head turned to the side, eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep his composure. his thighs tensing under your touch and his voice falling into almost incoherent whimpers.

“amore, please— im gonna—“

and then he did.

luigi’s whole body arched beneath you with a strangled moan, hips stuttering as he came hard against his stomach, all hot, messy, and sudden.

you kept going, soft and unrelenting, licking up everything he gave you with gentle care. every flick of your tongue making him twitch and sigh, oversensitive but too far gone to protest.

once you had cleaned him up, you leaned in close and pressed a tender kiss right to his tip. he let out a breathless laugh, eyes glassy and lips parted.

you smiled, resting your head just above his hips as you looked up at him, taking him in. you stayed like that for a bit, fingers tracing light circles on his thigh as he caught his breath.

his chest rose and fell in soft waves, his skin still flushed and forehead a little damp with sweat, lips parted in a dazed smile.

you leaned in again, pressing a kiss to his abdomen, another to his chest before moving upwards to curl into his side. your palms smoothed over his stomach, resting there while your nose brushed his jaw.

“how’s your back?” you whispered.

he chuckled weakly, still breathless, “honestly? im not even worried about it anymore.”

you scoffed and giggled into his neck, letting your fingers shift lower again, brushing over the curve of his hip.

then he turned his head, eyes burning behind the softness they had.

“let me return the favor,” he murmured. “please.”

your heart skipped a beat.

“luigi…”

but he was already moving. hands finding your bikini bottoms, fingers sliding against the strings at your hips as he untied them, tossing the fabric somewhere into the room.

his voice was hoarse, low and pleading.

“wanna taste you. been thinking about it since the day you made me take photos of you in that tiny bikini with your polaroid on the beach.”

you didn’t argue with that and let him guide you up his chest. letting his lips brush your skin the whole way up, until your thighs framed his face and your knees sank into the mattress on either sides of his head.

his hands gripped your hips, eyes looking up to meet yours as he exhaled, “let me take care of you too.”

he barely gave you time to settle above him before he was pulling you down hard. his grip tightening around your thighs, dragging you fully down onto his mouth, his tongue already parting you before you could even exhale.

your gasp nearly hit the ceiling, luigi wasnt soft nor gentle, he was hungry.

he moaned into you like he was starving— like just the taste of you was enough to keep him alive. his mouth moved so recklessly, tongue licking broad, wet stripes before curling into where you needed him most, lips sealing around you in a filthy, perfect kiss.

you tried to lift yourself just slightly, just enough to catch your breath but his arms locked tighter around your thighs, pinning you down against him.

“luigi—“

you barely got his name out before— crack!

his palm landed a sharp slap to your ass. not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind you he was in control right now.

your whole body jolted, letting out a surprised moan as you instinctively ground yourself down harder against his mouth and started grinding. slow at first, trying to find the perfect rhythm, and then faster and messier, as he just let you ride him, his pretty nose nudging against your clit.

he sucked, licked, devoured.

“fuck baby— you’re so good.” you moaned, voice shaking as your fingers tangled themselves in his curls, tugging hard.

“you’re making me feel so fucking good— i can’t—“ and he groaned under you, the sound vibrating against your pussy, making your thighs clamp tighter around his head. and still, he didn’t let up.

just kept licking like a man possessed, grip tightening, strong hands digging into your thighs, keeping you locked in place.

your body was trembling, skin flushed, that heat ready to snap— and luigi knew it.

and right when you were teetering, mouth hung open and breath stuttering— his lips latched onto your clit.

not soft or teasing, just purely desperate.

he sucked hard, his tongue flicking mercilessly, drawing fast, tight circles that made your vision go white.

“oh—fuck—luigi!”

the loudest moan tore out of you, sharp, raw, and damn near broken as the pleasure slammed into you. your thighs crammed around him, fingers yanking on his hair, hips jerking uncontrollably as your orgasm hit with a violent force.

and he held you there, through every gasp, twitch, and tremble. sucking, licking, chasing every last drop of your cum like he couldn’t fathom letting any of it going to waste.

even as your body gave out and you tried to pull away— he didn’t let you. he stayed there, moaning into you, drunk on your release.

your body still trembling when he released the tight grip he had on you, letting your thighs relax, pressing soft, tender kisses along the inside of your legs. and when you looked down at him, he was already watching you with wide eyes, swollen lips, and cheeks tinted pink.

“c’mere,” he whispered. barely having the strength to move, but you wanted to be close, needing it. you climbed down slowly and he met you half way— sitting up, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his lap.

your chests pressed together and noses brushing as your foreheads touched, “you okay?” he murmured, stroking his thumb over your hip.

“yeah,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “are you?”

he smiled, just a little, “never been better.”

your lips met again, slow as his hands roamed your back, your thighs, and your waist— like he couldn’t get enough of you.

and as your hips instinctively shifted against him, he let out the softest groan against your mouth. you felt him, already hard and ready, pressing against your pussy.

he reached down, lining himself up carefully, and you sank down on him, both of you letting out content sighs. both stilling for a moment, getting adjusted.

and then slowly, you began to move, grinding, rocking, and meeting him half way every time he lifted his hips. his hands held your waist to anchor himself in the moment, just feeling all of you.

your name left his lips like a prayer and your moans soft and breathy as your bodies rocked against each other in perfect rhythm.

your lips brushed over his jaw as your hips rolled against his, “you feel so good,” you whispered against his skin. “So deep…”

luigi groaned, tightening his arms around you, the sound buried in your shoulder, “you’re fucking perfect, pussy’s so fucking tight.” he breathed, voice low and thick.

his hands slid from your waist down to the small of your back, guiding you gently, helping you move just right— until his cock hit that sweet spot inside you that made your body jolt.

“yeah? right there?” he asked, lips brushing the shell of ear.

you nodded, nails lightly digging into his shoulders. “yes—right there, baby.”

he adjusted his angle slightly, and then a slow, precise thrust upward, so deep. and it hit, your whole body clenching around him, and your moan came out softer, higher than before.

he pulled back just enough to get a good look at you, eyes glassy, lips swollen, and tits littered in love bites. your forehead pressed to his, your bodies meeting in such an intimate rhythm.

“you make me feel so good, so full,” you whispered, barely able to speak through the heat pooling low in your stomach.

he kissed you, harder this time and then he took over, just a little. guiding your hips with one hand while the other slid down to hold your thigh as he angled his next thrust perfectly into that soft, sensitive spot inside you.

“there we go,” he rasped, dragging his lips along your neck.

“let me take care of you, baby. let me give you everything.”

his rhythm had started to slow, a bit overwhelmed. from the way your body clung to his, from how tight, how wet, how delicious you felt wrapped around him. his head dipped to your shoulder, breath ragged against your skin, big hands grasping your hips attempting to ground himself.

but you felt ready now, your body humming with energy again—refueled by every groan, every helpless twitch of his hips, and every shaky breath that tumbled from his lips.

so you started to move. a soft bounce at first, just enough to shift the angle, taking in more of him. then another. then faster. luigi gasped, back arching slightly, eyes squeezing shut as you rode him with more control.

your lips hovered near his ear, voice warm and broken in between moans, “you’re so deep inside me, gi...” he let out the quietest whimper, hands trembling against your skin.

“so big… stretching me so good. you feel it, don’t you? how wet you make me?”

he could barely speak, just nodded. barely.

and then—click. the door handle turned.

your bodies froze, just for a second, before luigi pulled you tighter against him, shielding you, even as your hips never faltered.

“yo luigi! how you holding up man?” a familiar voice called through the narrow crack in the door. he hadn’t fully stepped inside, just peeked the door open a few inches, only being able to see the edge of the bed and maybe luigi’s bare shoulder. the rest, being you fully naked and still grinding in his lap, was completely hidden by the angle.

luigi’s eyes blew wide, his breath catching in his throat.

“you—you gotta stop,” he hissed into your neck, biting back groan. “please—“

you leaned in, brushing your mouth against his ear, voice was sweet as candy while your hips rolled again, deep and slow.

“answer him.”

“let him hear how good you’re feeling.”

luigi’s hand flew to your waist, attempting to still you, but it was no use.

“i—uh,” he choked out, voice shaking. “yeah—i’m good man, just resting.”

his friend paused, “cool, just making sure. let us know if you need anything.”

you didn’t let him get a chance to recover. the second the door clicked shut, you pushed him backwards, your palms resting on his chest as you eased him down against the bed, his eyes still wide and wrecked under you.

his head hit the pillow, curls sticking to his forehead, and his chest heaving as you straddled him fully again.

“you’ve been so good,” you whispered, voice shaking with need. “but now i need more.”

and then you started to really move. your thighs burned as you began bouncing harder, hips slapping against his with wet desperate sounds, so intense, overwhelming, and fast. luigi’s hands scrambled to hold you, his fingers digging into your waist like he might slip through the bed if he didn’t anchor himself to you.

“f-fuck baby—“ he gasped, voice breaking. “that’s—too much—“ but he didn’t stop you.

he bent his knees suddenly, feet flat on the mattress and thrusted up. hard. your whole body jolted, a choked moan spilling out of your mouth as he met your bounces with the same fervor. each thrust slammed deeper and harder, matching the way you rode him until all that could be heard was skin slapping and both of you chanting each other’s names over and over.

“yesyesyes—lu, just like that—“ you cried out as he fucked up into you like he was trying to split you open from the inside.

“you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, eyes hazy and voice raw. “such a tight little pussy amore— so perfect, can’t even hold back anymore.”

your movements became sloppier, desperation seeping through, your bodies completely lost in each other. just full of need. just you and him, chasing that sweet finish with matching desperation.

your name tumbled from his mouth in broken gasps, sweat slicking his chest where your bodies met, the heat between you two unbearable in the most delicious way.

and then his voice cracked out, desperate and strained, “i—fuck—i should probably pull out.” but his hips never slowed, because he didn’t really mean it and you both knew it. you leaned forward, pressing your chest to his, mouth by his ear as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist.

“don’t,” you begged, breath heavy and hot. “i wanna feel you. want you to stay inside me.”

his groan was guttural, almost pained with how badly he had been waiting for that permission.

“fuck—fuck—“

your nails dragged down his back, your body grinding back into every one of his thrusts, and then everything shattered.

you came first, gasping, shaking, clinging to him like you wouldn’t survive without him.

“luigi—oh god baby, don’t stop—don’t—“

he followed instantly, crying out your name into your neck, hips buried to the hilt as he spilled inside you, his body trembling beneath yours as the outside world faded away.

your bodies stayed tangled for a while, skin to skin, limbs loose, and breathing slowly coming back down. the room was quiet now, except for the soft hum of the ocean breeze drifting through the balcony door.

luigi’s heartbeat thudded gently beneath your cheek as you laid against his chest your fingers tracing absentminded shapes against his ribs. eventually, he shifted beneath you, careful and slow, kissing your shoulder as he murmured, “be right back.”

he slid out from the bed with a little wince, his legs shaky and muscles drained. you watched with a sleepy smile as he padded naked across the room, grabbing a small towel from the bathroom and returning a moment later.

“here,” he whispered, eyes soft as he knelt between your legs and cleaned you up. “i got you.”

your heart fluttered.

luigi had already crawled back into bed, arms stretched behind his head, eyes half-lidded and warm as he looked at you with a soft, post-bliss smile.

you sat up slowly, reaching for the bikini top that wads left at the edge of the bed. “i should probably head back to my room,” you murmured, voice gentle. “so you can rest comfortably…”

you didn’t even get to finish your sentence when his arm reached out fast, firm as his fingers curled gently around your wrist to stop you.

“what?” he asked, brown furrowed slightly as he tugged you back down towards him.

“baby no.”

you blinked as he guided you back into his arms, your body slotting effortlessly into the space next to his.

“i wanna rest here,” he whispered, lips brushing your shoulder.

“with you.”

your heart skipped a beat as he tugged the covers up, over both your naked bodies. he nuzzled into your chest, one arm round your waist, the other lazily cupping one of your tits.

“m’tired,” he murmured. “wouldn’t be smart of you to leave your patient alone away.”

your fingers threaded into his curls, your other one rubbing up and down his spine.

“how’s your back?” you asked softly.

“feels perfect,” he mumbled, voice already dying down. “because you’re here with me.”

within seconds, his breath evened out, warm against your skin. and you were left with a sleeping, heavy luigi tangled into your bare body, like his life depended on it.

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 5)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: Mentions of reader's fictional father passing away.

Word Count: 3065

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Notes: UGH, sorry if this is shit, it doesn't feel right to me rn but i'm powering through.

_________________________________________

“I’m sorry about the other night,” you tell James when your Athletic Training Techniques class breaks to practice wrapping injuries the following Monday morning.

You don’t know why you’re apologizing for Rhysands behavior. He’s the one who should be doing the apologizing, but you can’t help the prickle of guilt that has wedged itself into your chest for the way he treated James when he so rudely interrupted your chat with his teammate at the hockey party you and Mor had attended.

Rhysand had crashed into your conversation like a F5 tornado, his violet eyes set in a glare so harsh you’d think that James Attor was his biggest rival and not one of his teammates. That stormy look on his face had only made you rage in return, utilizing the crackling irritation in your veins and wielding it like lightning, snapping at him for his disrespect.

James’ brows furrow at the pre-wrap you’re applying to his wrist. His tan hand in warm in yours as you keep it steady, and you wonder if all hockey players hands are this calloused.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he says, russet eyes flicking up to meet yours. He swings his legs softly from where he’s perched atop one of the tables. It’s cute, even more so when he shrugs innocently. “That’s captain, you don’t mess with what’s his.”

What’s his? You almost scoff but catch it just in time. “I’m not his,” you respond stiffly.

James’ cheeks turn bright red and for a moment you’re worried you’ve wrapped the athletic tape too tightly but he’s quick to blurt out his response. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I was trying to say that he told the entire team to stay away from you because you’re his cousin’s best friend, not because he, like, owns you or anything.”

And well, that’s a lot better than him insinuating that Rhys wants you all to himself, which, the longer you think about it, leaves you with a gooey feeling in the pit of your stomach. One that you’re not sure you should like given the knowledge that he warned his entire team away from you.

Yeah, that thought strikes you just as harsh the second time around, and this time, you latch onto it like a leech.

“He put a teamwide ban on me?” You almost shriek. You knew that he didn’t want you talking to his team, he made that perfectly clear to you the other night, but you had no idea that he talked to the entire damn team about you!

You ignore the glare a crimson haired girl beside you shoots you. Whatever, she should mind her own business and focus on her wrapping because that girl’s arm would be drooping like a limp noodle if it were really injured.

She breaks the stare off first and you go right back to stewing. What the hell? Rhys is acting like a total barbarian over this entire situation. It’s not like you’re related to him for fuck’s sake, you’re an accessory to his cousin, and if you want to shack up with one of his players, you will, because damn his rule. “He can’t do that! I don’t even know most of the team!”

“I think the term he actually used was banished. Or was it forbidden? I can’t remember,” James trails off thoughtfully. All you can do is gape in response, completely frozen at Rhysand’s audacity. When your partner notices the look on your face, he winces. “Maybe you could bring it up with him?”

Damn right you fucking will.

There’s a pinch between James’ brows when you continue your assignment. You’re too lost in your head, brewing over Rhysand and how he forced you to pretend to be his girlfriend the other night and the fact that he told his entire team to keep away from you. It’s embarrassing to say the least.

You’re so stuck in your head that you don’t notice that you’ve pulled the tape too tight around James’ arm. He’s trying to stick a finger under your work, tugging at the bandage to get his blood flowing again. You huff and begin to unwrap, letting the news fall off your shoulders for now with a heavy exhale. “Sorry,” you mutter.

A twinge of guilt hits you. Here you are, dragging poor James into another awkward position that has nothing to do with him and everything to do with his pig-headed captain.

You have half a mind to tug your phone out of your pocket and send chew Rhys out over text. He’d given his number to you after your first tutoring session so that you could set up the next one since you were in much too of a mood after running into Amarantha and giving you the ultimatum that made your view of him go from hot and gentlemanly to hot and an absolute fucking douchebag.

And this has certainly not helped his case.

It doesn’t take long to make up a plan for yourself. You’re going to stay far, far away from the hockey house from now on. You won’t be attending any more games, no matter how much Mor begs. And you’re going to email your psychology professor about finding a replacement tutor.

If Rhysand doesn’t want you around his team, you’ll make sure that the message was well received.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m distracting you,” James says, and before you can respond, he holds a hand up, halting you. It looks silly because his hand is wrapped stiffly with your handiwork, and the both of you crack smiles at the sight.

“How does it feel now?” You ask, examining his arm. It looks good, and as you poke a prod, you think it’s tight enough, but you want a second opinion before your professor comes over to evaluate.

James twists his arm this way and that, tries to bend his wrist to feel the tension. He looks impressed, and a surge of pride overtakes the lingering irritation. “Feels good. You’re a natural at this.”

Your cheeks heat at the compliment. “Thanks, James.”

Professor Maeve makes her rounds, and echoes a job well done when she reaches your table. With a soft smile, she continues to the crimson witch beside you, and you try your very best to keep your face neutral when the professor critiques her work. You tuck your lips carefully between your teeth and switch positions with your partner.

“You know,” James says as he begins wrapping your wrist. “The hockey team’s athletic training student graduated last year and the positions open. I don’t have much sway with the coach, but if you want it, I can put in a good word for you.”

He says it like it’s no big deal. Like you haven’t been banned from interacting with any of the hockey players. Like they haven’t been warned away either.

You stare at James in confusion, until he lifts his head, and you notice the cheeky grin on his face, the glint in his amber eyes. If you’re willing to play with the captain a little bit, he’ll take your side.

And fuck do you want to stick it to Rhys right about now.

“I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all week, James.”

“You know it.”

You come out of your psychology quiz feeling light.

You may not have scored a perfect hundred, but you have a feeling that you did a lot better than you have been doing thus far in the semester, and reluctantly, you have Rhysand to thank for it.

The both of you had spent Wednesday night studying in the library. You hadn’t brought up the ban, much too tired to deal with him more than you had to. He’d shot you a look of confusion when you immediately tucked into his notes and study guides without an utterance of a sarcastic remark. It had been the longest day of the semester so far, as you played catch up in psych while he worked on a paper for an astronomy class he was taking as an elective.

You don’t know what surprised you more, that he’s as nearly as good with astronomy from what you’d read of his paper, or how he managed to stay so on top of everything in his life. He’s an excellent student, excelling in all his classes, whilst being caption of the hockey team, and a tutor? You don’t know how he finds the time for all of it, because just the idea of adding anything more into your courseload this semester makes you want to melt into the floor.

But you will be, because you’re determined for the spot as the hockey teams athletic training intern.

Rhysand doesn’t have a clue, and it takes more effort than you thought it would not to blurt it out just to see the look on his face. James has been a tremendous help, setting a meeting time with his coach to meet with you at the beginning of next week. Apparently, coach Devlin cares a lot about his team. He might be harsh on you at first, James had advised, but he’ll warm up to you quickly. I think everyone will.

And well, you didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Hi honey,” your mom greets when you call her on your way back from class. It’s a brisk day on campus, and you’re cuddled in a bright orange sweater because it was the least you could do to celebrate Halloween. Students all around are either dressed to the T or in their normal garb, saving their costumes for when the night falls and they can really show out.

“Hi, mom,” you respond, biting back a laugh at a particularly funny costume. It’s one of those blow-up ones that you’re sure would not be a fan favorite in a lecture of a hundred students. It’s shaped like an alien stealing a poor human, and you’re thankful you don’t have any classes with him because sitting behind that would not be fun.

You wonder if he might be in Rhysand’s astronomy class, and debate snapping a photo to send his way, questioning his stance on aliens.

“How are you? How are classes going?”

“Good, mom, everything’s good,” you say, and it’s almost the truth.

Your mother keeps a very busy schedule and has since you were twelve, when your father suddenly passed. As her way of coping, she threw herself into her work, giving it more than 110%, and in return, she was promoted. Now, she spends most of the year traveling across the country to visit and meet with different suppliers for her company.

Usually, you’re fine with it, because she’s trying her best and you’re in college, but when you do have the rare time off for holidays and breaks, sometimes your schedules don’t quite align.

Which you know is the bad news about to come from the other side of the phone as soon she sighs heavily.

“What is it this time?” You grouse, and the good mood you’d been in after taking your quiz plummets. “No time off for parent’s weekend? No winter break this year?”

She says your name in a scolding manner. There’s a tinge of regret that you know she doesn’t expect you to pick up on, but it’s been the two of you for so long that you don’t even need to see her face to tell that she’s as sad as you are about the news. “It’s not Christmas. It’s Thanksgiving. They’re sending me over to London for a convention. I’d love for you to join me but—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you reply solemnly. “Not enough time off.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. But I promise I’ll see you for winter break. I’ll make it up to you then, and I’ll even pick you up from the airport personally.”

You have no doubt about that. Your mother spoils you, even if she isn’t the one doing the actual shopping. You love that she’s so important to her company and that she adores her job, it’s what you’re striving for too, but sometimes you wish she was around more, to give your life advice and rant to her about boys and class and anything. You spend more time talking to her voicemail than you do her.

“That sounds good.” You swallow around the lump in your throat. Tears sting the back of your eyes because you really were looking forward to seeing your mom. You haven’t seen her in months. She’d been halfway across the world when you left for college, and it had felt weird packing in your empty home and leaving it with one last longing look over your shoulder, with the memories of a happy family growing up there turned silent and eerie. “What do they have you doing instead?” You ask to be polite.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you pull the device away from your face to check the incoming message. You’re not really paying attention to your mother’s rambling anyway, and all you really want to do is hang up on her for the sour knot she’s unknowingly put in your stomach.

Rhysand: How did it go?

You ignore the warmth that fills your chilled veins at his thoughtfulness. You’d mentioned in passing when your quiz was, and you certainly didn’t expect him to remember this on top of all the other things he has going on in his busy schedule right now.

You: Pretty sure I aced that shit.

His response comes much faster than you expected it to, especially considering you know he’s about to walk into the arena for practice. You wonder if he’s going to dress up for the party at the hockey house Mor is dragging you to, or if he’s going to be sporting something lame like wearing his jersey.

Yes, you told yourself you wouldn’t step foot in that house again, but it’s Halloween, and Mor is way more persuasive than you ever gave her credit for.

Plus, if you’re near Rhysand, it’ll be much easier to get back at him for your ban.

Rhysand: Is that so?

You bite back your amusement, typing a reply.

You: So it may not have been a 100, but I’m pretty sure it was an 85% or higher.

Rhysand: Pretty sure? I guess we’ll have to study harder so next time you’re 100% sure you’ve aced it.

You don’t know why you like the sound of that so much, but his words are encouraging, a nice change from the way your mom’s shouting spills from your speaker, snapping you back to attention.

“Sorry, mom,” you apologize, “I just remembered that I’m late for a study group. I’ll see you for winter break, okay? I love you.”

She makes a noise that’s somewhere halfway between unimpressed and amused. “Okay sweetie. Study up and stay safe tonight, okay? Happy Halloween.”

“Happy Halloween. Bye, mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says, and you end the call, refocusing your attention on your phone.

You: Sounds like a plan, cap.

Rhysand: Cap? Not sure I like you calling me that, if I’m being honest.

You: Why? Because I’m not allowed to talk to hockey players? Which, by means that I shouldn’t be talking to you either, right?

You shouldn’t snap, especially since you’re going to have the pleasure of being around him and can chew him out tonight, but you can’t help yourself.

Rhysand: Ugh, I’m never going to live that down, am I?

You: Not a chance.

Rhysand: How about I make it up to you? You’re coming tonight, right?

He replies to his own message before you can even answer.

Rhysand: Of course you are. It’s going to be the hottest party on campus. Why did I bother asking?

You: WOW! This tops the cake on being full of yourself, I think.

You: But if you were wanting to make it up to me…what that might look like?

You don’t realize just how much you look like another one of his simpering conquests until you catch yourself in the reflection of the door to your dorm building. A cheesy smile on your face, head stuck in your phone, oblivious to everything around you.

Jesus, get it together, girl.

You mentally scold yourself, but when your phone buzzes again, all of that is lost to the ether, and you too, diving back into your phone.

Rhysand: It might look long and hard, around eight inches I’d guess.

You choke. Eight inches? There’s no way.

While you work out the schematics of how that works with anyone, Rhysand sends a follow up.

Rhysand: I can tell you’re thinking about it. If you ask nicely, I’d be more than happy to show you. ;)

You can’t help but scoff. Where does he get off? You’d ask, but you know he’d have another cheeky response to the question.

You can’t believe this is how he messages you. This is less than professional, but you have already felt his hard body beneath yours, and how nicely you fit under his arm. It’s not difficult to picture how he might be in bed.

But he’s sworn you off! And now he’s flirting with you like he didn’t enforce those laws when he caught you speaking to James at their last party.

This boy is making your head spin.

You punch the button to call the elevator, mulling over how to respond. Maybe no response is the best response? You can’t help but feel a little fuzzy at his sweet words, and the thought sours when you realize that he’s probably talking to a multitude of women the same way. You’re not sure you want to go to the party anymore by the time you reach your dorm, not even for your revenge, because there’s no way you want to see any other girls draped all over him all night, but when you open your door, you step into chaos.

The chaos being, your roommate Mor with costumes strewn about the living room, with a wild grin on her face and a tired looking Gwyn trying to hide beneath a pile of fabric on the couch.

“Happy Halloween, bitch! It’s party time!”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd @bookishbroadwaybish @405rry @itsinherited

[honeybeedrabble]

Kinktober Day 13: Size - Tutor!Miguel x AFAB!Reader 🎃

can you tell i hate my math class this sem ?? :D

CW: unspecified age gap (reader is in college miguel is in grad school), trauma inducing stats vocabulary, piv (unprotected don’t be stupid), creampie (don’t be stupid), mean miguel, harsh grabbing, fingering (kinda), finger sucking, general size difference.

18+ MDNI

It was getting late, you and your roommates Machi and Gale having dinner with you. You huffed, slumping in the chair you sat on.

“This is such bullshit, I’ve been stuck on this problem for like half an hour already. Nothing’s clicking.” You pushed your dinner aside and looked at Gale for reassurance. She tilted her head at you with a raised brow.

“Girl, you know damn well I’m not getting it either. Just call it quits for tonight, it's not due for another two days.” She said, sipping a chilled can of coke. 

“Oh, come on. Neither of us are understanding this shit. I mean, this symbol looks like a backwards three! I miss when math used to just have numbers,” you complained, squinting at the statistics homework in front of you.

“That looks ridiculous,” Machi laughed. “Never have I been more glad to be an arts major.” She said, getting up to put her dish away. 

“If it bothers you that much, why don’t you just visit the tutoring lab? I think they’re still open.” Gale said, grabbing your dish and following Machi to the sink. 

“Really?” You asked, checking your watch. 8 pm. 

“Hey, we pay thousands of dollars in tuition, okay? If they can’t stay open or help when students need it what's the point in taking all that money from us?” Gale shrugged. You sighed, standing up from your chair. 

“Well, I guess I better get moving if I want to make it to the tutoring center before 10. Let me know if you guys need anything while I’m out.” You grabbed your keys and left the apartment after grabbing your bag and slipping your shoes back on. 

_____________________________________________________

You arrived at the building, glass doors sliding open as you walked through them, the cold air conditioning giving you goosebumps. You walked over to the sign in sheet, looking through available tutors for the next hour or so. 

“Crap…” You sighed, looking through the sheets. It seemed like you needed an appointment before hand, at least electronically. 

There was the sound of laughter down the hall, you turned your head towards the sound. There was a much larger man along with a guy who seemed about your age. You recognized the shorter individual from your statistics class. 

“Well, I’m glad we could get your problem figured out.” The tall man said, a big hand patting the younger guy's back heavily. 

“Yeah, it only took us all night.” More laughter. 

“Hey, if its due in two days all night is nothing.” The tall, tanned man said. He was massive, you could practically see his muscles bulging underneath his white buttoned shirt. His chocolate hair slicked back, a few strands messily framing his face. You were in a trance when his almost red eyes met yours. You felt your face flush. 

“U-Uh, Hey! You’re in my statistics class arent you?” You asked the shorter guy, desperately avoiding the older mans gaze. The shorter guy said your name questioningly, you nodded. 

“Yeah, thats me.” You said, clutching your bag tighter. “So… you got help with the homework?” You asked, motioning to the taller man.

“Oh yeah, this is Miguel.” He said, patting Miguels back. 

“Hi, nice to meet you.” You said, grabbing his large hand and shaking it. You felt your palms become sweatier, his hand practically enveloping yours. “I didn’t see your name under the statistics sign up sheet.” You said, voice almost trembling. 

“Well as a grad student my major is scientific research so that's why I’m not under statistics.” He said, a slight smirk across his face, his grip on your hand becoming tighter. 

“O-oh,” you said softly. 

“But I use statistics in almost everything I do, so I can help out with any problems you’ve got if you need it.” 

“Miguel’s not a bad tutor, it only took us so long to finish cause I haven’t shown up to class in weeks.” Your classmate laughed. “I’ve got to get out of here but thanks for your help, man.” He waved before walking out the sliding doors into the dark night. 

You and Miguel turned to each other, you suddenly felt very nervous. 

“So… Would you… tutor me?” You asked, rubbing your arms for warmth. 

“Well, it's not quite 10 yet and I don’t have any other sign-ups, so why not?” He shrugged, walking down the hall with you following after him. 

You two walked down the hall, reaching a small study room at the end of it. 

“This is the room I reserved for the night, so don’t worry about anyone coming in here super late and trying to steal it from us.” He said, opening it up for you to walk through. 

You walked into the room, a table with a few chairs in the center with a whiteboard behind it. It seemed fine to you as you walked in, sitting down on a chair, slightly taken aback when it rolled underneath your weight. You looked down and noticed wheels at the feet of the chair. You looked up again when you heard the door shut, Miguel locking it behind him. 

_______________________________________________

“And that's why your z score is going to be 20.99. Does that make sense?” He asked. You were fucked. 

The whole time you were supposed to be paying attention you were completely distracted by his being. He sat next to you, his large frame practically caging you in between him and the desk. He was everywhere, and if you weren’t staring directly at the paper, you were scared you were going to faint. You nodded, eyes looking down at the problem, refusing to tear away from the mathematical mess you made. 

“Yeah…”

“Then tell me how you got it.” He said, deep voice rumbling in his big chest. 

“Well, first you uh…” You circled a random number in the world problem then looked up at him with helpless eyes. He raised a brow. 

“You start with the standard deviation?” He asked, clearly unamused. 

“Well… You definitely use it somewhere…” You said half joking. Miguel was still unamused. He sighed deeply, throwing his head into his hand. 

“I’ll explain it one more time, okay?” He said, grabbing the pencil from your hand. His hand brushed against yours and held your pencil as if it were a toothpick to him. “So, we’ve identified the mew, right?” He asked, underlining the foreign symbol. 

“Yeah…” You said, asking yourself what the fuck is a mew? 

You were determined to stay focused but that man made it difficult. You turned to look at him while his eyes were fixed onto the paper, scribbling out equations and typing into your calculator- which he also made look puny in his grasp. You watched him as he spoke, the way his soft lips moved as he talked, revealing sharp canines every now and then between words. You felt your face flush, entranced by his presence. You eyed his large shoulders, following them down to his massive arms. You looked back up at his face, admiring his features while he was so deep in thought. He looked down at you.

“So now we just divide and… hey?” he said almost harshly. “Are you paying attention?” He asked in a snarky tone. You felt your face drop. 

“I… um…”

“Distracted again?” He tossed the pencil onto the surface of the table, muscular arms crossing as he almost glared at you. 

“I’m sorry.” You felt exhausted, covering your face with your hands in defeat. You felt like crying. 

“Maybe if you weren’t so focused on undressing me with your eyes and more focused on these problems, you’d understand this shit by now.” He grunted. You stilled, face buried deep into your palms before you peered at him through between your fingertips. 

“W…What?” You asked, looking at his almost red eyes. 

“I said what I said.” Miguel's voice was low, he grabbed your seat and pulled it towards him, the wheels moving you with ease. You felt your core tighten, as your face continued to burn hot, regardless of the air conditioning. 

Miguel's eyes practically violated you, staring deep past your own and into your soul before looking you up and down, clearly enjoying how you cowered. 

“That pretty little head not used to thinking this hard?” he asked low in your ear. You shuddered, hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention. “Pathetic.”

He grabbed your waist with his large hands, daring to crush you between his palms. He slowly stood up from his chair, face inches away from yours. You took that as invitation enough and crashed your lips into his, those soft lips felt even better than you imagined, a whimper escaping your lips as his grip increased. He pulled you off of the chair and slammed you onto the table, papers flying and pens scattering around you. You let out a grunt as the air escaped your lungs from the impact. 

“I’m taking time out of my night to try and teach you this shit and you can't even meet me halfway and try to learn it?” He huffs yanking down your frumpy sweats to your ankles. You kicked them off, laying on the table in your tight shirt and panties. 

“I-I’m sorry, you're just so-” he cut you off with two thick fingers plunging into your mouth, you gagged when they hit the back of your throat. He smirked, watching you drag your tongue around the knuckles of his fingers. 

“That ought to shut you up.” He ran a finger from his other hand to your clothed cunt, you moaned around his thick digits when he caressed your clit. Your hips moved on their own accord, grinding against his large hand. “Would you look at that? I didn’t know they accepted whores into this school.” Miguel hummed, voice smooth like honey and deep like an ocean. 

His single finger moved to where your pussy and thigh met, yanking aside your black cotton panties to reveal your wet cunt, which clenched around nothing at the sudden cold air. 

“Jesus… I bet you were thinking about this all night, huh?” Miguel teased, the calloused tip of his finger just barely grazing along your seeping hole, spreading the warm slick higher and higher up your folds until he could smear it along your sensitive bud, eliciting another moan from behind his drooly fingers. 

“Needy, aren’t we?” Miguel withdrew his fingers from your mouth while his other hand unzipped his dress pants, the metal of his belt buckle clanking together as he pulled it out of its loops. The belt hit the floor with a small thud and with his drool-soaked fingers he freed his massive cock and ran the slippery fingers up and down his shaft. 

Miguel tore your underwear off of you, as if it was like taking a sticker off a piece of fruit. You felt yourself drip down your thighs, unsure whether or not it was okay to touch yourself while watching this Greek god of a man pleasure himself with your spit, watching your tense cunt beg him to stuff it. 

“Like what you see?” He asked, slipping his finger into his mouth and moaning long and deep when he tasted your sweet slick on his tongue. You nodded vigorously, grabbing one of your tits to entice him even further. “Why don’t you take that off while we’re ahead?” 

You quickly tossed off your shirt and bra, completely naked on the desk. Miguel softly laughed, watching how nicely you obeyed him. 

“You're too easy, y’know that?” With a few more pumps to his shaft, he harshly grabbed one of your thighs and spread your legs even further, admiring your wet pussy. 

The moan you two let out when he put his cock inside of you could've been heard by the whole building if it hadn't been well past 10 pm and everyone had gone for the day. His girthy member dared to split you in half, the sheer size of him was far too much to handle, especially all at one. We watched with pleasure as your breathy moans turned into agonized whimpers the further he drove into you. When he had finally gone balls deep inside of you, there was an obvious cock bulge deep inside of you as he stretched out your pussy wonderfully. 

“M-Miguel…” You sighed, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. 

“Oh, so this can keep your attention but me slaving away on your homework can’t?” He smugly asked, pulling out before slamming into you with a grunt. You wailed, scratching the hard surface of the desk underneath you, crumpling stray pieces of scratch paper into your palm while arching your back. 

Miguel started at a rough pace, making room out of your tight pussy for his intimidating cock, juices slicking the shaft of his member, and sounds of your wet pussy gushing paired with the creaking of the table filled the room, moans, and mewls adding to euphonious music of your fucking. 

“So fucking tight… so fucking tiny… I bet I could fold you like a pretzel,” He said amusingly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and pushing the fronts of them against your chest. You cried out loud, new depth being explored by his commanding dick while he used you for his pleasure. 

With his massive hands, he spread his fingers out, his thumbs on the backs of your thighs and his four fingers on the small of your back, grabbing onto you so he could bring you up and down on his deep thrusts. 

You were seeing stars at this point, scared your arousal would drip onto your homework papers and soil all the progress you’ve made. But it didn’t matter anymore when you threw your head back onto the table and shook in his hands, pussy clenching around his meaty cock and milking him for his own cum. 

“Ngh- What did I say? Easy…” He moaned, thrusting inside of you a few more times before he shot a huge load inside of your tiny pussy, cum leaking out between where your sexes met and rolling down your asscheeks. 

You lay there on the table, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Miguel watched entranced as your shared cum leaked out of you, finger fucking it back inside of you, wondering if it he could stuff it all back in. He quickly realized your overstimulated cunt couldn’t take it as tears welled in your eyes. 

“Sorry,” He said, removing his fingers. “Now uh… where were we?” He picked up the page of work, then his face dropped, looking at the splotch of cum that had spilled out on accident. 

“On second thoughts… you might want to turn this in online.”

Tag List: @fuckmachine42069 @pasdasin @alien-girl-violet

Next: Cloning - Kakashi x Reader

[cherryredstars]

Hi Cherry!

Could you do a part 2 to fear (f)or lust? There something about mean dom miguel that makes me ✨️tingle✨️

Maybe sprinkle some fluff at the end?

You are an amazing writer ❤️ Love everything you do!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Mean!Miguel, Penetrative Sex, Bruising, Face Slapping, Creampie, Cum-Stained Panties (LMAO)

Summary: He still has one last thing to prove.

A/N: Hihi, love!! Thank you!!

Not Edited

Part 1

It's been a week.

Far too long for Miguel's taste, if it wasn't evident from how much harsher he's been on the field lately. His mood is effectively soured from your disappearance lately. It's partly to do with you avoiding him and the fact you're at some nerdy competition for the school. You had told him in text the day before you left, and his mood has been getting worse ever since. His life has become surprisingly dull without you around to scare and stuff his fingers into. He hates to say it, but he missed his little Bambi.

But his suffering finally comes to an end when he's walking the halls and the familiar tweeting of your voice passes him. He looks up from his phone, turning his head the same time you turn yours, his threatening eyes meeting your shiny ones. He gives you a smirk before you're pushed away by the crowd of students, continuing his path forward as he presses a few buttons on his phone. He wished you were in front of him so you can squeak at the dark look on his face when you pick up the phone.

"Can't hide from me forever, Bambi."

---------------------------------------------------

The scene looks familiar as you stand outside his door, the only difference this time is he's not wearing a shirt or sweats. He leans comfortably against the frame of his door, acting as if he isn't just in a pair of black boxer briefs. His hair is a bit limp over his forehead, beads of water still clinging to his tanned skin. He must have just gotten out of the shower, remembering vaguely that he had practice today so you knew to avoid taking any outside paths that pass by the field. You try your best to not stare at his muscular chest, but you find it hard to meet his eyes too. They always have that dark, hungry look in them. You opt to stare at his ear, your cheeks flaming.

Miguel on the other hand, doesn't care if you watch him take you in. His brow is quirked up, looking at the slight changes you think he wouldn't have noticed. You're wearing a bit more makeup than you usually do, your lips glossier and more colored than they usually are. The top you're wearing is tighter than what you're more comfortable wearing, different from the slightly baggy shirts you like to wear for tutoring sessions. He hopes for your sake you wore it specifically for him and you didn't come from something as silly as a date.

He moves slightly out of the doorway, leaving just enough room for you to squeeze through. You eye the empty space, something bubbling in your stomach as you slowly walk forward and squeeze yourself through. Your entire side brushes against Miguel's front, and his skin is burning hot against yours. You avoid looking at him at all costs, praying in your head to keep yourself together. You're so lost in throught that you yelp when Miguel suddenly grabs your arm, pulling you back into him.

You finally look him directly in the face, your eyes wide as he smirks down at you. Your eyes squeeze shut when he leans down, warning bells sounding at top volume in your head. You really regret closing your eyes because you're unprepared when you're suddenly lifted off the ground, a large and startled gasp leaving your lips as your eyes are snapped open. Your stare meets the ground, and Miguel's muscular shoulder digs into your stomach. His arm is wrapped around the back of your knees, and it's the only precaution he's taking to make sure you don't fall. You almost feel like crying when he purposely jolts you on his shoulder, loosening his grip slightly so you slide forward a bit. He laughs darkly as you claw at his back, having nothing to hold onto.

You can feel every step he takes as he takes you away from the front door, walking down a hall until you both enter a room. It smells so heavily of Miguel, and the air is slightly thick from the shower's steam that flows into the room. It makes your head dizzy, and it doesn't help when Miguel throws you off his shoulder and onto his bed. You bounce from the force as you land on the bed, landing partially on the towel he used to dry his hair before answering the door.

He looks so menacing standing over you, his body blocking the light from the hallway from entering his dark room. It makes him glow, like some dark angel that is determined to take you with him. His movements are slow and predatory as he walks to you, the faint light doing just enough to show how his muscles shift. He forces his large frame between your legs, his rough hands grabbing your calves and spreading them wider to accommodate him. The stretch slightly hurts, and you wince slightly when he forces his body forward so he can be face to face with you. Your legs rest on either side of his waist as he rests his hands on either side of your head, one of his hands rubbing at your cheek.

"You're so silly," He chuckles, he red eyes appearing to be glowing down at you. "Want to hide f'me, but then y'come here all dolled up."

You open your mouth to protest, but Miguel sticks his thumb through your parted lips, pressing down on your tongue. You gag around the finger in surprise, eyes widening as a distressed sound leaves your mouth. Miguel's thumb presses harder on your tongue, and he quirks his head to the side.

"No need to lie. I know it was all for me." He smiles. His other hand snakes down your body, stopping until the heel of his palm presses against your cunt through your pants.

You squirm in his hold, trying to pull away from him. It only makes dull pleasure shoot up your body, and you buck your hips harder with a whine. Miguel shakes his head at your foolishness, pulling his soaked thumb out of your mouth and wiping the saliva across your trembling bottom lip. He gives your face two soft pats, causing your pulse to jump as you remember the last time he slapped your face. He seems to know what you're thinking about as he coos down at you, reassuring you that he isn't going to slap you. Not unless you give him a reason too.

The promise- or is it a threat?- causes your body to flame, and you try to look away from his face. He scowls, his hand squeezing your cheeks together, puckering your lips as he forces you to face him. His brows are furrowed in distaste, and his other hand begins to undo your pants. He leans down, your noses almost bumping as he glares down at you.

"Who told you to look away? It sure as hell wasn't me."

You try to mumble an apology through your puckered lips, but barely any sound comes out besides incoherent hums. Miguel roughly throws your head to the side as he lets go, moving his hand down to get rid of your pants. He does it without your assistance, pressing your hips up himself to slide them off your legs and throwing them to the side. He hums as he spots the dark patch in your underwear, his fingers pressing on it and letting it sink into your hole. Your hips jolt, the uncomfortable wetness making you squirm. Miguel chuckles, moving the panties to the side, to see the way your entrance pulsates in a need to be filled.

He hums darkly at the pleasant sight, his fingers circling your hole. The stimulation distracts you for only a moment before Miguel harshly yanks your panties to the side, gasping in pain as you feel the fabric rub and snap around the crease of your thigh. The useless fabric is tossed to the side, and Miguel starts fishing his leaking cock out of his boxers. Your eyes widen at how large he is, and you try to push yourself away from him. Miguel tuts in annoyance, grabbing your thigh and roughly pulling you back into place. You gasp when his heavy dick slaps against your cunt, his angry tip pushing against your puffy clit. You freeze under him, finally learning that squirming gets you nowhere.

Miguel finally seems pleased for once, liking the way you've wordlessly submitted to him as you try to relax your body. He slowly moves his hips back and forth, sliding his cock through your glossy folds. You whimper slightly at the feeling, your body caving in on itself as your cheeks flame. Miguel pays you no mind, his eyes trained on where he slides through you as he lets out a low groan in approval. The underside of his cock is getting sticky from your arousal, and his tip catches against your entrance every now and then.

The teasing makes you ache for more. You open your mouth, only for a loud scream to escape as you're suddenly full. The stretch is quick and painful as Miguel unexpectedly thrusts inside of you, filling you to the brim in one move. You can feel him pressed against your cervix, and you let out choked breaths as your cunt squeezes around him. Miguel moans lowly at the feeling, gritting his teeth as he tries to pull out. Your cunt makes it almost impossible with how desperately your walls cling to him, but with some effort he begins to thrust into you.

You make pathetic little noises every time he bottoms out inside of you, his thrusts rough and fast as the sound of skin hitting skin echoes in his room. You already know the back of your thighs will be red and aching by the time he's done. You squirm on his dick, your shaky hands pressing on his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him off of you. He finds it to be a stupid move on your part as he gathers your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head as he ruts into you. Your hands clench in his hold, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan.

"Y'know, I was thinking about how easy it would be to fold you. Wanna test it out?"

Miguel's eyes are concentrated as he stares at where his cock penetrates you, watching the slight shine that coats his length and tuning his ears in on the squelching of your pussy. He groans as you clench around him, his hands coming to your thighs as he moves your legs to rest over his shoulders. You whine at the movement, his cock seeming to hit deeper inside of you. If you thought your thighs ached before, they burn now as the tops of your thighs press against your chest. Miguel ruts rougher into you, his teeth gritted as your cunt pulsates around him. You can feel that tight ball in your stomach, and you squeal when Miguel starts toying with your clit.

Your body trembles under him, the heels of your feet beating down on his muscular back as the onslaught of pleasure makes you're mind dumb. He's sure he'll get bruises from how hard your heels are hitting his back, but it doesn't deter him from fucking into you. Your nails dig crescents into your palms as you explode, your body twisting in an attempt to escape Miguel's consistent thrusts as you gush around his cock. Miguel groans as your cunt milks him, sweat beading on his forehead as he tries to find his release as you convulse.

He gives your cunt a few more brutal thrusts before his hips slow, slowly fucking his cum into your abused pussy. You mewl up at him as his hand releases your wrists, his hips finally stopping. Your chest rises and falls with quick breaths as you calm down, your body already feeling sore as Miguel moves your legs off his shoulders. His chest isn't moving as rapidly as yours is from his years spent on the field, his heart used to the hard physical demands Miguel puts his body through. But he does let out a slightly shaky sigh as his large hands softly knead your thighs. It makes the ache fade slightly, and he reaches besides you to grab the towel he used before. You jolt slightly when he wipes down your sticky cunt, hesitating a bit as he watches the glob of cum leak from your hole.

When your breaths start to regulate, you lift yourself slightly up. Your eyes catch the outline of your ruined panties on the floor, and your brows furrow as you wonder how you'll get home without any underwear. Miguel follows your line of sight, eyebrow raised as he takes in the tattered fabric. He crawls off you, walking to one of his dressers and rummaging through it. You expect him to pull out a pair of boxers, but what he pulls out is much too small for him to fit. Miguel throws them at you, and you pick them up hesitantly. Miguel can't help but chuckle as you gasp, staring wide-eyed at the stiffened pair of panties at the end of your fingers.

You feel like crying thinking about the perverted things he must have done to your poor panties.

Part 3

[comradeghosty]

Not a Study Session (NSFW)

NSFW Stoner!Ace x reader fic

Summary: You are supposed to meet your friend Luffy to help him study, but run into his older brother instead.

Tags: College AU, first time, corruption, fingering, vaginal sex, recreational weed use, praise

!!! 18+ !!!

I also posted on AO3

You walked up to Luffy’s house, backpack in hand and ready for your study (tutoring) session with the guy. Both of you were in this pre-calc class together, you because it was required for your major and Luffy because it was a required credit to graduate college. Needless to say, the man was hopeless on his own, but you helped pull his grade up to a C last quarter.

Usually he met you at your place, but your roommate had guests over for a party. Luffy offered for you to meet him at his house, telling you that his guardian wasn’t home for the weekend so it was free. So when the door swung open to a tall, tan man with long, dark hair, you were surprised. You adjusted your grip on your bag, shifting a little nervously and intentionally NOT looking at his bare chest. Seriously, who answers the door in just sweatpants?

“You're… not Luffy…?” you said dumbly, not expecting anybody to be at home. 

The man leaned against the doorframe, cocking his head slightly. He wore a slight smile. “So,  you’re Luffy’s friend from college?”

You avoided looking at his dark eyes, which felt like they pierced straight through you. It was a little uncomfortable how exposed you felt standing in front of him, watching his eyes flick down to take in your outfit. You wished that you had worn pants instead of a skirt. Of course, you couldn’t ignore that he was… very handsome. His long hair brushed his broad, freckled shoulders. You saw the way his strong jaw flexed when he spoke. 

“I, uh- yeah. Um… is Luffy home? We were supposed to study for the test next week,” you mumbled. The man in the door barked out a laugh.

“Ahh, I see. You’re the one helping him pass. You must be such a smart girl,” he smiled, his grin wolfish, like he might eat you up at any moment. “Nah, he’s at soccer practice right now. Since you came all this way, might as well stay. He’ll be home in maybe an hour.”

You felt your fingers fidgeting nervously, not wanting to be annoying by staying while Luffy isn’t even home. “Oh, no it’s fine. I can wait at the coffee sh-” you tried to protest, but the man already ushered you in by a large hand on the small of your back. 

Once inside, he closed the door behind you. He turned toward you with that huge grin on his face again. You swore his teeth sparkled. “I’m Ace, by the way. Luffy’s older brother. I’m sure you’ve heard of me,” he chuckled, winking at you. You stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Ace walked past you into the living room, flopping down on the couch in the living room. He was so relaxed, his lithe body moving in what you could only describe as a saunter.

Ace pulled out a large bong from somewhere you didn’t see, looking at you while packing a bowl. “You look so tense. Relax, I’m not gonna force you. Put your stuff down and come sit with me,” he offered, patting a couch cushion to beckon you over. 

“O- okay,” you stammered out, setting down your backpack near the front door and kicking your shoes off. Ace smiled at you when you sat down, leaving a bit of space between you. Slowly, you looked around the living room to distract yourself from your proximity to the man. The TV was on, featuring some pirate cartoon that Ace was probably watching. There were pictures hanging up that featured the brothers, and you shook your head when you felt yourself staring at a picture of Ace on the beach. You felt Ace’s knee press against you, and you were startled out of your trance, your body stiffening and eyes widening. For some reason, Luffy’s brother put you on edge, and now he was touching you. Ace chuckled at your reaction, and you felt a blush dust your cheeks.

“You’re a good girl, aren't you?” 

His words had your thighs tightening slightly, your eyes flitting quickly to his. “I- uh.. I’m sorry?”

“Like… in school?” he clarified, his eyes shifting back to the bong on the coffee table. You looked down, a bit mortified at your reaction, missing the smirk that stretched across Ace’s face. 

“O- oh… I guess… I’m a straight A student, if that’s what you're asking,” you mumbled out quickly, trying to move on. Swallowing hard, you tried to relax a little. It was embarrassing how jumpy you were.

Ace just hummed in response, lighting the bong. You watched as his mouth moved to the mouthpiece, the way his hand flicked the lighter, the rising of his chest as he inhaled the smoke. He knew you were watching him, but you were too focused to notice that he caught you. The bong was placed back on the table, and Ace exhaled. Fine ribbons of smoke drifted out from between his lips, and it was mesmerizing, you felt entranced. He licked his lips before turning to face you. You felt his eyes studying your face.

“You ever smoked before?” he asked. You shook your head, your eyes shifting to the cartoon on the TV. God, Ace thought you were so cute. His head tilted a little, grinning. “You wanna try?”

“Oh, uh.. I- well… okay,” you stuttered, feeling your face get warm again. If you could just stop blushing around him, that would be great!

“Ha, cute… okay,” Ace murmured, scooting closer to you. Your legs touched now, thighs pressed against each other. A shiver rolled through your body at the contact. “So here’s what we’re gonna do. Since you’ve never smoked before, I don’t want you inhaling directly from the bong. How about you shotgun a hit? It’ll be easier on you.”

You looked down, just nodding in response, when you felt Ace’s hand snapping in front of your eyes. He prompted you to look at him, and you had to look up to see his face. How had you not noticed how tall he was before?

“You gotta use your voice, you wanna try to shotgun? Hm?” he asked again. How he stayed so easy going while you were practically trembling, you didn’t know. All you could focus on was the way his skin was freckled across his nose and his bare chest. He was so close to you, warmth emanating from him. You could smell him, like smoke and sandalwood. God, he even smelled warm. You shifted in your seat.

For a second, you just nodded again before remembering you were supposed to speak out loud. “Ah, yes. But… I don’t know what that is,” you admitted shyly. It was sometimes embarrassing how inexperienced you were for a college student.

Ace chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’m a good teacher.” You felt reassured by his easy demeanor, like he wouldn’t judge you for not knowing. That put you at ease, and you started to really relax around him. You turned slightly, facing him while he explained how to shotgun a hit.

The way his lips moved was almost hypnotizing, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. As he explained, you intermittently nodded at him, your eyes flitting between his eyes and mouth. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. He finished up his explanation and looked at you, his eyebrows lilted. You watched as he wet his lips. “Alright? You got it? Think you can do it?” He looked for your confirmation, to which you nodded fervently. You had never been particularly interested in weed before, but you really wanted to impress Ace.

 “Y- yeah, I can do it,” you said, looking for his approval. You smiled up at him, your eyes wide and eager.

A large, warm hand rested on your knee. Ace smirked at you, “good girl. Now, I need you to move here so it’s easier for you.” Before you could react, the brunette's large hands took yours, and you let him guide you off the couch to kneel between his legs. You faced him, looking up at him with your hands resting on your thighs. Nerves started itching at you again before he picked up the bong. “Ready?” He wet his lips again, looking down at you.

“Mhm, I’m ready,” you nodded again. The anticipation made you so antsy to just do this. Ace flicked his lighter, but before he put the flame to the stem, he paused.

“I forgot to say,” he began, his eyes half lidded, “you have to put your lips against my lips to take the hit.” A smirk graced his lips as he flicked the lighter again and lit up the bong. Your mouth parted slightly, your eyes wide as you just nod dumbly up at him. Ace took the hit, a mouth full of smoke as he gripped your chin in his large hand. He angled your face up towards his, thumb brushing over your bottom lip to silently ask you to open. 

Your lips parted as he got closer to you, and you closed your eyes. When his lips touched yours, you felt yourself slightly jump but relax quickly as he inhaled the smoke into your mouth. You breathed in, the smell of weed and Ace filling your lungs. His lips were soft, and you briefly imagined kissing him before he pulled away. The smoke scratched at your throat when you breathed in, and you tried to hold the hit in your lungs as long as you could before you broke out into a coughing fit. The smoke was harsh on your throat, but you didn’t anticipate that since Ace made it look easy and effortless. Coughs wracked your body, and you found your forehead resting on Ace’s knee as you tried to catch your bearings. His hand stroked your hair, and you heard his soft voice murmuring to you.

“Gooooood girl. You're taking it so well,” he cooed. Ace’s large hand moved to your neck, cradling the back of your head and tugging slightly at your hair. You were pliant for him, letting him move you back so he could gaze down at you. His eyes were half lidded, and you could say he looked almost sleepy if it wasn’t for a stark alertness in them. A bottle of water materialized in front of you.

You coughed a little more. “Please, ‘m thirsty,” you whined for the water. Ace smirked, and god he looked like he wanted to eat you up.

The hand in your hair leaned your head back a little as Ace brought the bottle to your lips. You parted your lips for him, blushing at how intently he watched your mouth. “There you go… open… so good at following directions,” he breathed. The bottle of water tipped a bit, and he poured the water into your mouth, feeding you. His thumb rubbed firmly against the back of your neck, and he smiled. “Swallow… yeah, that’s it.” You looked up at him as you drank the water, small moans and noises coming from your throat as you drank greedily. A few drops of water dribbled down your chin before Ace pulled the bottle away, his thumb brushing away the droplets and dragging slightly against your cheek. “Atta girl, so good for your first time.” 

Ace drew away from you, the thumb that wiped the water from your lips coming to his mouth. You felt frozen as you watched his thumb disappear between his lips, seeing his pink tongue lick lazily over the digit. An ache formed in your abdomen as you knelt, entranced as you watched him lap at his thumb. You didn’t even realize the way your mouth parted and your breathing got heavier, the weed slowly hitting you and relaxing your boundaries and awareness. “F- fuck,” you whined, your face getting red as you realize you just moaned out loud. Ace’s eyes met yours, mischievous. You watched as he cocked his head to the side, raising one of his eyebrows.

“Yeah? You like that?” he hummed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Your faces were so close. All you could do was nod, you were speechless. Ace smiled, “you want some more?” You nodded again, quickly. Anything to get him to touch you again. He chuckled, his hand cradling your head once more. “Cute. Open your mouth for me.” 

Your lips parted in anticipation of more water, before you saw him lift the bottle to his own lips. There was barely any time to register what was happening before Ace took a mouthful of water into his own mouth and leaned down to your mouth. His lips were on yours and you felt a gush of liquid enter your mouth as he transferred the water to you. A moan bubbled up from your lips as you swallowed against him, your lips still touching. You felt Ace smirking against your mouth at your moan, and that was enough for you to abandon all shame and inhibitions. 

In one fluid motion, you gripped his thighs and pushed yourself up into him, kissing him messily. Your body stretched up to meet his mouth, and you devoured him like you were starved. The kiss was wet from the water, but neither of you cared, relishing the feeling of your tongues sliding against each other. Whines and moans escaped your mouth as your lips greedily mashed against his. His name escaped your mouth in a whimper, and Ace chuckled against you. “Ha, so needy… C’mere,” he murmured, biting at your lip before pulling back.

Ace bent down and wrapped his hands around your ass, cupping your cheeks as he pulled you up into his lap. Both of your legs rested on either side of his thighs as he squeezed you firmly. Your skirt bunched up around your hips, and you desperately pressed your lips back to his, whimpering and whining as your teeth knocked against his. If you were sober, you probably would’ve worried that Ace could feel your inexperience, but you were so desperate for him that it didn’t even cross your mind. You just wanted, needed, him more than anything. Ace’s hands wandered up your ass, gripping your waist and pressing you down into his lap. You gasped, feeling his hard length against your panties.

“Ahh,” you whined, your eyes wide as you stare at him. A blush spread down your neck as you felt Ace pressing himself up against you. A whimper left your lips as the brunette’s large hands moved your hips, grinding you down against his cock. “A- Ace…”

You saw Ace concentrating, letting out shaky breaths as your clothed cunt rubbed against him, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. His hands squeezed your waist and you felt his deep voice radiate through your chest as he asked, “You ever done this before?”

A shiver shot down to your stomach, and your face burned. You looked up at Ace, eyes wide and mouth parted as you breathed heavily. Ace’s half lidded gaze made you feel naked, bare before him, the way his dark eyes saw straight through you. “Uh uh,” you shook your head, knowing that he already knew the answer. Ace smiled, one of his hands snaking up your side to touch your breast. 

“Don’t worry, cutie, you’re doing great,” he praised you, thumb skimming over your hardened nipple that peeked through your shirt. Your eyes fluttered shut at the contact, the foreign feelings sending shocks right between your thighs. As Ace’s hand moved back down to your waist, you felt yourself losing yourself in the feelings. Your body moved on its own, your high making everything more sensitive. Every time his bulge brushed against your clothed clit, a moan slipped through your mouth. Ace felt it too, sensitive and wanting as he rhythmically pressed himself into you. His quiet moans and sounds went right to your cunt, and you could feel your wetness soaking through your panties. 

You felt Ace’s hands move down your waist to your skirt, tugging slightly at the hem. “May I?” he asked. His knuckles skimmed against the outside of your thighs.

“P- please, Ace, please,” you begged, needy as you grinded against him. Ace smirked as his hands dipped under your skirt, gripping your thighs. It’s so sensitive, the way his hands danced against the delicate skin of your inner thighs. Your head slumped over, your forehead resting on his shoulder as you whined against him. All of the sensations were so new and amplified and overwhelming in the best way. Your hands rested against his bare chest. “Oh… god,” you moaned out when you felt his thumb brush against your panties. 

“Fuck… you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” he asked you, smirking and rubbing his thumb more insistently against you. “You respond so well to me, pretty.” 

You felt yourself get lost in the sensations, your mouth parted as you pant against his shoulder. “I need you to do something for me,” he urged. Ace’s hands disappeared from your body and you whimpered at the loss of contact, looking up at him with wide eyes. He smiled down at you, kissing you and biting at your bottom lip. His hands found yours, and he moved them to your skirt hem before pulling back. “I wanna see. Hold this up for me, alright?” You nodded, using both of your hands to pull your skirt up. Ace’s gaze darkened as he watched you expose yourself to him, shuddering as he watched your white cotton panties rub against his hard on. 

“P- please Ace, please… do something. Please,” you begged, your eyes squeezed tight as you grinded down desperately. Ace was flushed and panting as he watched you move. His hands gripped your thighs again, moving upwards along your sensitive skin. You felt his thumbs press against you though your panties, slowly and arduously rubbing your slit. 

“Like that? Is that what you want, angel?” he crooned, his voice breathy with want. You clenched the skirt in your hands, bucking your hips for more friction. It was so frustrating, you wanted more but it was so embarrassing to ask. Your face was flushed, eyes shut tight and breathing heavy. Ace couldn’t take his eyes off you, mesmerized by how responsive you were. “God… you look so cute like this.”

His thumb moved quickly across the wet spot on your panties, Ace’s gaze on where he touched you through your clothed cunt. A smirk crossed his face as he dragged his thumb up, brushing the digit over your clit. “Ah, fuck, Ace!” you cried out, clenching around nothing. You heard his breathing grow ragged as he watched you shudder as he rubbed circles through your panties. “Please, please please, Ace…” you chanted, so desperately needing more.

You heard Ace mutter under his breath, sighing out a breathy “fuck” before sliding your panties to the side and dipping two fingers into your slit. “You're so wet, so good for me,” Ace groaned. If he could’ve gotten any harder, he would’ve. He pulled his fingers off of you, moving them to his mouth and tasting you, moaning around his fingers as he greedily sucked them. You watched him, confused and turned on as his soft tongue worked its way around the digits. Ace opened his mouth, eyeing your expression.

“That’s… weird,” you breathed, the action being completely foreign to you.

Ace chuckled around his fingers before pulling them out of his mouth. “Nah, you taste delicious. Here,” he offered you his fingers, pushing them in your mouth before you could protest. “Suck.” 

His fingers pressed against your tongue as you hesitantly sucked them, the taste of yourself on his skin was interesting but not bad. The moan that Ace let out was unholy, his head leaned back as your tongue swirled around his digits.

“God,” he moaned, pulling his fingers out and returning them to your cunt. The middle finger dragged through your slit and pressed against your hole. “You ready?” he asked, checking in with you that this was still okay. 

You nodded, still holding up your skirt as Ace watched his finger sink into you. The feeling was so strange, but it was so enjoyable and you moaned out loudly. Ace wanted nothing more but to bury his cock in you as soon as possible. Slowly, he pumped his finger, letting you adjust to the feeling. Ace could feel you shaking. “How does it feel?” he asked, wanting to gauge your reaction.

“Haa, so good, so good Ace…” you whined, feeling yourself move against his finger. “Want more… please…”

Ace grinned widely, slowly pushing a second finger into you. “Your wish is my command,” he murmured, still hazy from his high. It was so hot to him how needy you were, how bad you wanted him. He fucked his fingers into you at a quicker pace as he watched your chest rise and fall as you panted. “God.. you're so pretty on my fingers,” he praised you, watching you grind against him harder in response. 

“I- I want…” you whined, flushing dark. “Ace… P- please…” One of your hands dropped your skirt, moving down to touch his clothed cock, rubbing a thumb against the shaft.

“F- fuck… God... You’re so perfect for me,” he moaned, his eyes fluttering shut. You watched as he used one hand to undo his pants, pulling his cock out. It was thick, with dark hair at the base. A moan escaped your mouth as you clenched down around his fingers, making Ace grin. “Yeah? Like what you see?”

He pulled his fingers out of you, using your wetness to slick his cock. One of your hands wandered down to meet his, touching him as he stroked himself. You felt him take your hand and place it on his cock, wrapping his hand around yours to show you how he likes it. Ace’s head leaned back with the sensation of your hand on his cock, moaning out your name and mumbling about how perfect you felt on him.

“Mm, Ace… want you… please…” you whined. One of his hands gripped your waist, adjusting you so you hovered right over him.

“Keep holding that skirt up… Wanna see…” Ace mumbled, need ravaging his brain. He pushed you down a little so he could run the tip of his cock through the wetness of your cunt. “Fuck, so wet for me.”

You struggled to hold the skirt up, trembling as he pressed against your hole. “A- Ace,” you whined as the hand on your waist pushed you lower, feeling the head of his cock push into you. His eyes were glued to the sight, loving watching himself enter you.

Ace breathed out, whispering a string of “fuck,” “so good,” and “so tight.” You sank down on him slowly, inch by inch as he filled you. “Breathe, make sure to breathe,” he reminded you and probably reminded himself as well. Your cunt squeezed around him, he was so thick as he bottomed out in you. Ace held you against him as you adjusted to the feeling of being full. “You’re doing so good for me, there you go,” he murmured. 

He started slowly, shallowly fucking up into you as you whined and moaned. The sensation was so new but so good, the head of his cock dragging against the sensitive spot in your cunt. Every time he filled you completely, the base of his cock bumped against your clit, sending fireworks down to your toes. You clenched around him every time, egging him on. “Oh, god, fuck Ace… feels so good… ‘m so full… please…” 

Ace felt himself losing his composure at the whines and moans you made, wanting to fuck you hard and fast. The way you were so innocent and willing made him want to absolutely ruin you. He started pulling you down as he fucked up into you, lightly at first, but slowly moving you faster. You felt your head slump forward, blissed out with the quick and rough thrusts. A small string of drool dripped from the corner of your mouth as you panted.

“Ha, fuck…” Ace groaned as he watched his cock thrust in and out of you. He could feel himself getting closer, so he moved a thumb to your clit and rubbed circles on it as he fucked you. He built up your orgasm quickly, and you could feel yourself tensing up. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you rocked yourself against him, bouncing yourself on his cock. The sensations were so much, the feeling of fullness when he bottomed out, the thumb on your clit, even the lingering high made you feel good and sensitive.

“Please, please…” you whined. You were so close.

“C’mon baby, I wanna feel you cum around me,” he moaned, feeling you tighten around him. 

A few more thrusts and you were cumming hard, clenching down on his cock and crying out. “God, fuck. Ace, I’m cumming. ‘S so good. Fuck,” you moaned, stringing together words and mumbled nonsense as you rode the feeling out against him.

“So fucking perfect,” Ace gritted out as he gripped your waist harshly. He held you up as he pounded into you, fucking you with abandon. You cried as you slumped against him, overstimulated. “So good, you feel so fucking good, god, fuck,” he whimpered, pulling out of you and cumming all over your thighs. You felt his shallow breaths against your neck as you both laid there, spent and exhausted. 

Both of you were sticky and wet. After a moment, you felt Ace lift you and carry you to the bathroom. He sat you on the counter, getting a warm, damp washcloth and wiping you off. You felt boneless, slightly slumped over but more clean. Ace pushed your hair back behind your ear, kissing your cheek. “How are you feeling?” he asked. You couldn’t really formulate a response, nodding your head and grunting out an affirmative noise. He chuckled at you. 

“You did so good for your first time. Let me take you home, I don’t think you’re gonna be much help studying today,” Ace smirked. “Guess that means you’ll have to come back later this week.”

[moonyscribe]

Oc!! (I was inspired by @honeycaksy ‘s Alphie <3 I love him so much)

Wolfstar’s adoptive child, her name is Elena (meaning bright/shining light referencing Sirius being the brightest star in the night sky), she’s Native American/Filipino, she’s more similar to Remus (personality-wise) but more similar to Sirius’s style. Her patronus is a Runespoor (a three headed snake (critical and clever) and she is a Gryffindor (but was a hatstall similar to Remus between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw). She loves 70s and 80s music and sometimes, you can hear her singing with her guitar in the astronomy tower. She speaks French and is well versed in Astronomy (due to her closeness to her uncle Regulus). By third year, she is Gryffindor’s star chaser and can usually be found studying either for class or different quidditch strategies. She doesn’t speak unless she must but when she does, she’s usually advocating for Hermione’s SPEW and other rights programs. She’s the same age as the Golden Trio and mainly intermingles with other houses because she thinks that house prejudice is stupid (until it comes to quidditch). Her favorite class is Defense Against the Dark Arts (despite the plethora of horrid teachers, she has always excelled in offensive spells and dueling).

Nicknames: Lena, Lu, Black, Lupin, Ellie, Lane

Parents (Adoptive): Sirius Black and Remus Lupin (she was adopted at 7)

Birthday: December 14, 1980

Blood status: unknown

Nationality: Filipino, Native American

Features: 5’3” tall, chin-length, wavy black hair, hazel eyes, tan skin, freckles across nose and cheeks, beauty mark below right eyebrow. Usually clips hair back with colored barrettes and small black hoop earrings

Style: 80s-90s grunge, wears similar clothes to Sirius (believes clothes have no gender)

Character: observant and quiet to people she doesn’t know very well. She can come off as very introverted to those who don’t know her. She is the one her friends go to for tutoring or advice (when Mable isn’t around). When she’s upset, she can have quite a temper and can get petty or sarcastic especially when someone’s dissing her friends or family. 

Personality type (MBTI): ISTP

Hobbies: reading, writing poetry and music, listening to music, practicing guitar, singing

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Favorite Classes: Defense Against the Dark Arts, Muggle Studies

Wand: Vine, 10 3/4 inches, phoenix feather core

Patronus: Runespoor

Pet: (does Padfoot count?)

Quidditch Position: Chaser

Relationships with others:

Alphie & Harry: cousins, practically blood related (very close)

Mable & Luna: besties

Carmen: Likes her (perhaps romantically)

Lucian: Friend but “rivals” on the Quidditch pitch

Hermionie: friends (and roommates)

Ron: friends but nothing close

Draco: had a fight in 1st year, there’s been a rivalry ever since

[m4iya]

──★ ˙🧷 @yiooobb37 has chosen to study Languages, 2 hours a day for 1 week with Hinata! He isn't too sure how he'll do though! Let's see how they go...

Hinata, who has been pretty stressed lately. Ever since the groundbreaking news was dropped that he had to pass all his exams in order to make it to this years training camp, his head has been buried in the books for hours on end.

You, who'd been doing alright for most of your subjects, only feeling the nerves hit as exams inched closer and closer.

Hinata, who stumbled on his words as he struggled, shifting between Japanese and English as you quizzed him on a variety of different vocabulary words.

Hinata, whose thick Japanese accent makes you giggle. His English translations weren't necessarily incorrect, quite the opposite, actually. 'Rice' would become 'lice' , and 'very', would become 'bery'.

Hinata, who would flare up when you teased him, ensuring you that it wasn't a speaking exam, and that his pronunciation wouldn't be marked!

You, who'd attempt to stifle your laughter, and he'd snap back, challenging you to an accent competition.

Hinata, who made sure to organise study sessions with you, whenever he was free. During weekends, during lunch breaks, and even after practice—with the two of you meeting at the local library together, or at each other houses.

Hinata, who'd sometimes fall asleep during these late-night study sessions, breathing softly as the mechanical pencil he held slowly slipped out of his grip. Gently swiping it from his hand, you noticed that the tip of his index finger had dented from how hard he'd been gripping it.

Hinata, who brought his friend, Kageyama, along at one point, joking that you'd 'definitely be able to tutor a numbskull' like him!'. It wasn't long before the boy told him off, remarking that their grades were practically the same.

Hinata, who'd sometimes ring your number in a panic, asking you about a word that he'd never heard before, and how it would be structured in a sentence. You'd answer his question as much as you could, continuing to give him pointers on other things he needed to know.

Hinata, who definitely wasn't a slow learner when it came to grasping a language concept. He knew his vocabulary, vowels, punctuation and sentence structure more than most of the people in your class. He'd been stressing for so long, complaining that he wasn't sure how he'd ever come close to passing this exam, but you'd seen how much he was working, knowing his skill level well.

Hinata, whose score on the last practice test you gave him was 100%. His eyes widened, taking the paper from you with a gasp. Laughing, he shoved the paper in his friend's face, who turned away, wearing a scrunched frown.

Hinata, whose final score on the official exam didn't necessarily align with the practice one despite the countless sleepless nights you'd shared.

You made sure to let him know that what he learnt wouldn't necessarily only be used in one exam throughout his entire life. After all, if he really wanted to play professionally around the world, wouldn't he need to learn a variety languages to communicate with all the different people he'd meet?

Hinata, who never stopped hanging out with you after exam season, inviting you to come watch his team's games sometimes, always reminding you that he wouldn’t forget what you'd done for him.

extras:

Hinata, whose newly tanned face one day appeared on your TV, playing in his debut match for a national team in Brazil. Sticking around for the whole game, you watched as the interviewer asked him how he learnt to speak Portuguese so fluently in such a short amount of time.

Hinata, whose eyes softened at the question, a breathy chuckle leaving him before responding "A close friend of mine from high school gave me the push I needed."

From my exam season event ✩ other works

[g1rld1ary]

lifeguard!james x fem!reader 2

wc: 1587

cw: nowhere near as horny as the first one (my period ended), still mentions of sexual feelings, swearing

you went back to the pool the next day. was it for james? no. was it not for james? you weren't answering that. but there he was when you and the girls walked in just after lunchtime, sunglasses on to avoid the reflection from the water. you had to admit you were glad he was working, you'd forgotten your book at home and needed something fun to look at when you were tanning.

you were allowed to observe him shamelessly for a minute and a half whilst he was preoccupied explaining something to hilda, one of the old ladies who possibly spent every day of summer at the public pool (she was big on aqua aerobics). it was even better when he did see you all, though, his face breaking out into a boyish grin as he waved. the girls all waved back and you pulled your sunglasses down past your eyes with one hand, raising one eyebrow with a smile. he responded with a silly exaggeration of his heart beating against his chest with his hands, drawing an unwilling giggle out of you. he looked pleased with the reaction.

james left you all alone for a little, actually doing his job while you soaked up the sun, discussing your summer readings with lily. marlene and mary were filling out magazine quizzes next to you, occasionally asking for opinions. about a half hour later james approached you with an excited "ladies! it's good to see you back again!" mary laughed with a polite greeting in return, twisting in her beach chair to face him. you all followed, and you couldn't resist teasing him.

"hope you don't think it's because of you, baywatch." james shook his head sagely.

"i would never dare. i mean, clearly, this is the place to be." he gestured around the facility, obviously referring to the fact that you and your friends were the only people there aged between 15 and 30. lily laughed then, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair to look at him properly.

"is this your way of asking where people actually hang out?" james shrugged. "to be completely honest, most of our age group sleep through the day to do dumb shit at night, it's the best way to escape the heat," she explained.

"the few that are awake usually hang around the arcade," marlene added, "or the village -- that's the shopping centre. usually our group hang out there if it's horrid weather, there's a decent cinema and a music shop, passable food as well." james nodded, looking genuinely interested in what marlene had to say about it.

"maybe you'll all have to show me around it one time," he said cheekily, and you all made entertained noises at his forwardness.

"desperate for our company, are you?" you teased, but james just shrugged easily.

"i told you yesterday, i literally have zero friends here." there was something charming in his openness about being a complete loser, and you could tell the others felt similarly.

"don't be silly, james, we'll be your friends," lily said kindly, using the same tone she did when talking to the kids she tutored.

"yeah," marlene agreed, "you can't be any worse than the other tossers we're friends with." you all laughed at that, thinking of the boys who refused to accompany you to the pool.

"and they've not come with you?" james asked, catching onto the unsaid easier than he probably should as a relative stranger.

"they wouldn't be caught dead. sirius cares about his hair too much to even be around all these germs, and remus tries not to be in the sun if he can avoid it. poor peter refuses to be the only guy hanging out with us, I think we still scare him a little after all these years," mary joked, and james looked utterly delighted to be hearing about your lives.

he excused himself not long after to get back to the job he should've been doing the whole time, and you admired the way his arse looked in the swim shorts as he left.

"he seems nice," you muttered, and the others agreed. lily raised one perfect red eyebrow.

"are we talking about his personality or the body you can't stop staring at?" you gasped, not offended at her statement but more than willing to pretend.

"are you calling me a whore?" you asked with a hand over your chest.

"you said it," marlene quipped and you cried out in protest, lines of mock outrage spilling from your lips.

you got bored of bickering quickly, the heat taking most of the fight out of you. you sat in relative silence for a while until lily declared it time for more water, taking marlene to go buy you all bottles from the corner shop down the street. the ones at the tragic pool bar were never cold and she wanted ones from the fridge. that left you and a sleeping mary on either side of your line of chairs. you pushed yourself up to a sitting position, leaning over to grab the magazine lying on marlene's towel.

you flipped through it lazily, but couldn't stop your eyes from drifting up to where james sat in his lifeguard's chair, wiping sweat from his brow. there was something about him that interested you (aside from the god-like body). he had an easy openness that you scarcely found in guys your age; he wasn't afraid to be lame or honest and didn't seem to be interested in making himself sound any better than he was to a group of four hot girls -- if you did say so yourself. he was refreshing, and not just visually.

as if he could read your mind james started approaching, and you quickly busied yourself in an article you couldn't care less about.

"hi," he said, standing in front of your chair. you looked up, feigning slight surprise, as if you hadn't been listening to his flip-flops grow closer.

"couldn't stay away?" you asked, closing the magazine in a way you hoped didn't look eager.

"you caught me," he sighed, smile making its way onto his face.

"shouldn't you be working?"

"i'm taking my break. thought i'd come keep you company."

"how generous," you mused, "would've thought you'd gotten enough of a view of me during your shift from up on that seat of yours." james had the decency to look mildly embarrassed for a moment, but it passed quickly and he took it in stride, sitting on the edge of your deck chair, careful not to drip water on your belongings.

"i'm only appreciating the natural beauty of this town. besides, someone's gotta do it if your boyfriend won't bother coming here with you, wouldn't want such a nice bikini to go to waste." you felt hot at the compliment and you knew it wasn't just the sun. you tried to play it off.

"are you asking if i'm single?" james paused for a moment, possibly thinking through his options, then nodded, unashamed. "you don't even know my name."

"you won't tell me."

"touché." you let yourself smile a little, loving the way james' eyes crinkled when he returned it. "done anything to earn it yet?" you could see him genuinely thinking and wondered whether he'd make up a miraculous story about an epic save he made just before you arrived at the pool.

"no, guess not." he settled on, disarming you again. the near-constant earnestness in his way of speaking hadn't stopped catching you by surprise yet, and you wouldn't be shocked if it never did.

"and what, no girlfriend up north to scold you for staring at my tits?" you teased as james' eyes flew back up to yours, only relaxing when he saw you weren't upset.

"free as a bird," he confirmed quietly, "though I'm sure it's of no interest to you." the air felt electric between you, had he always been this close? you were face to face, only a few inches between you. you could feel butterflies erupting not just in your stomach.

"obviously," you answered, similarly quiet. the moment felt inappropriately intimate despite the people around you. you were equal parts glad and furious when lily and marlene returned, unsure of what you might have succumbed to right there on the deck chair if you hadn't been interrupted. james looked equally worked up, hazy look in his eyes making him appear already fucked out. he stood with a start, excusing himself to get back to work.

"see you around, baywatch," you said, strategically reapplying some lipgloss. you didn't miss his glance at your lips.

"hope so, dollface." you were glad james was leaving because the nickname made you falter, going straight to your ovaries. you'd done it to yourself yet were no more prepared, staring dumbly after him.

you tried to play it off quickly, picking the magazine up where you left off and flipping through noncommittally. you could feel your friends' eyes on you and pointedly ignored it, eyes trained down at some 'best-dressed' list you'd found.

"just your luck that you get first dibs on the hot new guy," mary complained, but you could tell she wasn't all that bothered.

"you are going to eat him alive," marlene laughed and lily nodded, the two of them already sharing condolences for james. you didn't say anything, but judging from the coil still wound tight in your lower belly, maybe it wasn't james they had to be worried about.

i need him fr

next

[bettelaboure]

⊹The Art of The First Time⊹ | Choi Seung-Hyun

fourth part in series "Course in Chemistry"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ Pairing: Choi Seung-Hyun x Reader

⊹ Warnings: sexual tension, explicit sexual exploration, embarrassment, mature language, peer pressure, and high school dynamics involving gossip and judgment

⊹ Summary: the reader reluctantly agrees to be tutored by awkward and quiet Seung-Hyun, she fullfil her side of the deal to be the one teaching him life’s more intimate lessons

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

​​It was Thursday and you needed to blow off some steam.

"Come onnnn!" you groaned under your breath. "Just do it!" Your fingers moved faster, desperation tingling under your skin. "Please... please, God, let me."

Your eyes stared up at the ceiling, your other hand gripping the sheets. You were so close. So needy. So—

Knock, knock.

"Y/N?" your mom's voice rang through the door. "Is everything okay in there?"

For fuck's sake.

"Yeah! Everything's fine, Mom!" you called out, scrambling to pull the hoodie down over your legs.

"Okay. Your dad and I are leaving now. We won’t be back till late."

"Tell everyone I said hi," you muttered as you heard her footsteps fade.

You got out of bed, your legs still trembling slightly, frustration boiling just under the surface. You walked over to the mirror and looked at yourself—just a hoodie and your underwear. Your tanned skin stood out against the creamy white cotton.

"Why can't you just do it?" you whispered, cheeks flushed, hair a tangled mess. The irony wasn’t lost on you—here you were, tutoring Choi Seung-Hyun about sex, and you couldn't even finish yourself off.

Shit. Seung-Hyun.

You glanced at the clock. Less than thirty minutes to get to his place, and it was a twenty-five-minute walk if you didn’t stop.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cursed as you scrambled to find pants. Where the hell were they?!

Tripping over your own feet while pulling them on, you barely made it into the bathroom. As you brushed your hair and splashed water on your face, your mind raced.

What the hell were you going to teach Seung-Hyun today? You'd covered kissing. You'd made out. Was it time for... fingering?

Did you even want his fingers inside you?

You shook the thought off. It was too soon. Probably.

When you arrived, only a couple minutes late, he didn’t mention the time. Instead, Seung-Hyun opened the door and let you in, his usual soft-spoken manner putting you at ease.

It was another Past-tense session. You went through the basics. Another test sheet. A five this time. Better than a two.

"Do you even attend English class?" he asked as he handed back your paper.

You shrugged, eyes averted. It was a clear 'no'.

He sighed. "Y/N, you'd improve a lot faster if you went to class. One tutoring session a week isn't a miracle cure."

"Yeah, but you're supposed to be the best tutor, right?"

"Did you even watch the documentary I sent you? The one on the History site?"

You didn’t need to respond. Your face answered for you.

"I'm not Superman. You gotta meet me halfway."

You knew he was right, but it was hard to admit. School felt like a void you were floating in, each class draining more energy than the last. Most of your teachers gave up on you last year. So what was the point?

"Have you ever dry-humped before?" you blurted, the words flying from your lips before your brain could catch up.

What. The. Fuck.

Seung-Hyun looked completely stunned. "What?"

"Never mind," you muttered, pretending to be absorbed in your test paper.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way he kissed you. The feel of his lips, the scent of spearmint gum and apple juice. He was surprisingly good at it. Better than you expected.

"What is it?" he asked, still watching you.

You looked up and took a breath. "I can show you. If you want."

He hesitated, nerves warring with curiosity in his eyes. But then he nodded.

You led him to the living room and gestured for him to sit. He did, cautiously, like he was stepping into unknown territory.

"Shit," you muttered, checking your phone. "Two percent battery."

"I got it." He handed you his phone. A playlist started streaming through the speakers.

The Blackstreet.

"You like them?" you asked, surprised.

"Yeah. They're cool. You?"

"Never listened much, but Jae-mi says they have the best sex songs."

You walked back over to him and asked, "Is it okay if I... get on you?"

His nod was small but clear. You straddled his lap, adjusting your legs to fit over his tall frame. It was intimate, awkwardly so.

"Okay," you said, steadying yourself. "Kiss me."

His eyes widened. "I thought you were—"

"Are you or are you not trying to knock Se-mi’s socks off with your sexy skills?" you raised a brow.

He knew you were right. Again. He straightened up, lifted a trembling hand. He was so nervous.

You touched his cheek. "Look in my eyes. If you're gonna kiss a girl, start there."

He met your gaze. A storm of blue and gray, with silver specks flickering near the center.

"Now look at my lips," you whispered. He did. You could see his throat bob.

"Ask to kiss me."

"Huh?"

"Consent is sexy. Ask."

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

"Yes."

He kissed you, and this time, he meant it. His lips were soft but eager, his hands cradling your face. As your mouths opened and tongues explored, something shifted. The kiss grew desperate. Messy.

You shifted your hips, rising slightly before settling your core directly against his.

He gasped and pulled back, eyes wide. You met his gaze. "Is this okay?"

He took a shaky breath. "Yes."

You began moving your hips, slowly, letting the friction build. His breath caught.

"What... w-what are you doing?"

"Follow me. Move with me."

His hands found your lower back, tentative at first. Then he moved, hips pressing up into yours, matching your rhythm.

"Like this?"

You nodded, breathless. "Yeah. Like that."

The friction increased. Your lips returned to his, tasting each soft groan he let slip. The tension built. Your thighs trembled.

He bucked up harder. You gasped as you felt it—the pressure against your core. He was hard. Really hard.

Holy hell.

You cursed under your breath as a sharp jolt of pleasure pulsed through you.

His breath hitched. He moved faster. Desperation took over.

Until—

"Holy shit," Seung-Hyun grunted suddenly, voice strained. "Fuck."

He pushed you off him. You fell to the rug with a soft thud.

He bolted.

You sat there, dazed, staring after him as he fled into the kitchen.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered to himself.

You stood, smoothing your hoodie as you followed him.

"Seung-Hyun? You okay?"

He looked pale. Terrified.

And then you saw it. The dark stain across his jeans.

Oh.

You tried to keep your expression calm. "Hey. It’s okay. This happens. Especially the first time. Let me—"

"No!" he backed away like you’d just tried to slap him. "C-Can you leave, please?"

You wanted to laugh, but held it in. Poor guy.

He wasn’t just embarrassed. He was humiliated. Like it was something shameful.

Unless...

Wait. Was that... his first orgasm?

You blinked.

Holy shit. You just gave Choi Seung-Hyun his first orgasm.

Damn, girl.

“Soooo…” Jae-mi slammed her lunch tray onto the table with the kind of dramatic flair only she could get away with. She plopped down beside you, her eyes glinting like she’d been waiting hours to say what came next.

“What does Choi Seung-Hyun’s cum-face look like?”

You choked—full-on spluttered—your water going down the wrong pipe as your face turned red. You coughed into your sleeve, struggling to recover while she looked on like she'd just asked what you thought of his shoes.

“What?!” you wheezed, clutching your chest like she’d personally tried to kill you.

She just shrugged innocently. “Haven’t you guys even... y’know?”

“We didn’t.” Your voice was flat, immediate, automatic.

But your stomach twisted because it wasn’t entirely true. He had, but the way Seung-Hyun had reacted afterward—embarrassed, fragile, wide-eyed like he’d broken something inside himself—had left you reeling. Talking about it felt like betrayal. He was new to all of this, and you couldn’t throw that sacred little moment into the lunchtime gossip pile like a used napkin.

“You didn’t?” Jae-mi tilted her head, her voice slow and disbelieving. “Then what did you do?”

“Nothing,” you lied, fiddling with your spoon.

She stared at you.

You sighed. “We just kissed again.”

Still staring.

“Oh, come on,” you groaned, feeling cornered. “You have no idea how innocent he is.”

She raised an eyebrow. You dropped your voice lower, almost whispering.

“He’s never had an orgasm before. Like... ever.”

Jae-mi paused, processing. “Wait. He’s eighteen. That’s, like, against nature.”

“I know! Every guy in ninth grade was obsessed with dick jokes and watching porn behind the bleachers. But Seung-Hyun? He’s like... a virgin Buddhist monk reborn as a K-pop visual.”

“But he must’ve gotten hard before. I mean, he’s still human, right?”

“Oh, he definitely has. Yesterday, actually. And girl, let me just say—he’s packing.”

Jae-mi almost dropped her fries. “Y/N!”

You fanned your face dramatically. “Don’t look at me like that. I wasn’t trying to see it. But the boy’s got a nuclear weapon tucked in his pants, and it went off—without warning.”

She let out a wheezing laugh.

“But he skipped tutoring today,” you added, growing more serious. “I think he’s embarrassed. Do you think he even knows how normal all this is? I mean, he’s obsessed with science books. How can someone who studies biology not understand how his own body works?”

Jae-mi’s smile softened. “It’s not about knowledge. It’s about experience. Textbooks can’t teach you what sex feels like.”

You bit your lip and looked around. Soo-ah was definitely glancing over.

“It’s like he’s never done anything,” you whispered.

“When you say ‘anything’...”

You just gave her a look.

“Well, damn.” She leaned back. “Bathroom?”

“Bathroom.”

Everyone knew what ‘bathroom’ meant. Not ‘I have to pee’ bathroom—but the ‘I need to whisper secrets where the walls are tiled’ bathroom.

The echo of your boots hit the floor as the two of you entered the empty space. No stalling girls. Just quiet and the low hum of flickering lights. Jae-mi leaned on the sink. You paced.

“I seriously don’t know what to do,” you confessed. “I can handle that he hasn’t kissed many girls—or any. But how do I teach him without making him feel like a science experiment? It’s not like I can hand him a manual.”

Jae-mi started applying lip gloss like this was just another day in her guidance counselor fantasy. “Maybe you should show him.”

“You mean jerk him off?” you deadpanned.

She paused. “I mean—yeah, eventually—but start by showing him what he’s missing. Get him used to the idea of sex. The idea of women.”

You slumped against the tiled wall. “So... a porn movie night?”

Jae-mi chuckled. “I’m serious. He’s going to drown if you throw him straight into the deep end. You need to get him comfortable with the water first.”

You crossed your arms. “Most porn is terrible. It’s all fake moans, bad lighting, and men who act like jackhammers. If he learns from that, he’s going to think choking someone is foreplay.”

“That’s why you have me,” she said, tapping the gloss to your chest like a fairy godmother. “I know the sites for women. I know the books. We’re talking detailed, healthy, educational... and hot.”

You blinked. “You think this’ll actually work?”

“I promise. That boy will be rubbing one out daily by next week.”

You snorted. “Just don’t give him any of that BDSM crap you’re into. I don’t want him asking me to tie him up before he’s even seen a naked woman.”

Jae-mi turned scarlet. “I do not—”

You cut her off, grinning. “You literally have books with whips on the cover. And don’t think I didn’t see the ‘leather harness tutorial’ tab you left open last week.”

“Okay!” she shouted, flailing her hands. “Okay! I’ll pick the right ones!”

“Perfect.” You kissed her cheek and strutted out of the bathroom.

Behind you, her voice echoed, “And stay out of my sex life!”

You laughed. “Never! As long as your short ass is still my best friend!”

Later, after school, the mall practically called your name.

Jae-mi had gone home to study like the responsible gremlin she was, leaving you to wander Victoria’s Secret on your own.

You stood in front of a wall of thongs, debating.

Dark green? Mysterious seductress. Light blue? Virgin who says "oops" after moaning your name. There was also one in blush pink that made you feel like a cupcake with a secret.

Back when you were with Jun-ho, it was always babydolls. He liked them. You didn’t. They were itchy, got in the way, and made you feel like you were trying too hard.

But the yellow lace set the salesgirl handed you? That was a whole different vibe. You stood in the dressing room mirror, staring at yourself.

Curves highlighted. Chest lifted. Ass? Glorious.

“Damn, girl,” you muttered, a satisfied smile tugging at your lips.

You bought it. And a plum set too. Because why the hell not?

At the register, just as you were feeling peak hot-girl energy, fate decided to spice things up.

“Se-mi?” you asked, spotting the petite girl a few feet over, clutching a pack of neon booty shorts.

She turned, wide-eyed. “Um... yes?”

She hadn’t expected you to talk to her. You were enemies. Most girls like her thought girls like you only existed to ruin their GPA or date their crushes.

“I didn’t peg you as the booty shorts type,” you said with an easy smile.

Her face flushed. “I... Kim Jong-in said they were sexy.”

Of course. Of course it was Jong-in. High school’s answer to a walking STI.

“You should never listen to that idiot,” you said. “He thinks Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are the same characters.”

She blinked. “They’re not?”

You sighed. “Never mind. Point is—impress someone who wants more than ass. Someone who sees you.”

Like Seung-Hyun.

“He’s not that dumb,” she defended weakly.

“The guy thinks Catcher in the Rye is a baseball drama.”

Her face fell as she stared at the booty shorts like they’d just cheated on her.

“Oh.”

Then she looked up, smiled—genuinely. “Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot.”

You shrugged. “Us girls gotta stick together, right?”

She nodded, paid, and left.

You didn’t love her. But you’d be damned if Seung-Hyun ever thought she was better than you.

He owed you. Big time.

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