#I feel like that night just be a me thing

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well���” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2 COMING SOON

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[badjokesbyjeff]

There were three race horses; ernie, bill, and ted. 

the three of them were good friends; they enjoyed racing each other and generally won and lost to each other equally. every evening, after the races, they went to a local bar to relax and drink some beer. they would often discuss racing techniques, their families, etc.

one season, bill wasn't doing so well. he rarely beat the other two, and was worried that he'd be sent to the glue factory if his luck didn't change. one night, at the bar, he talked with ernie and ted about it.

"you know, guys, i just can't figure it out," he said. "everything's fine at home; the kids are doing great, my wife is being nice, the bills are paid, my mother-in-law rarely visits - nothing could be better. maybe i'm just getting old. if things don't pick up soon, they'll send me to the glue factory."

the bartender, a big llama from peru, overheard the conversation. he looked around, to make sure nobody else was listening, then said, "hey, pal, i got something for you that'll make you feel like a young colt again." he reached under the bar and pulled out an unlabeled bottle of beer. "here, drink this; i guarantee you'll start winning again. come by each night for a week and I'll give you one. if it doesn't work, i'll give you double your money back!"

bill looked at ernie and ted, who only shrugged, then drank the contents of the bottle. "oh, just one thing," the llama said, "it'll make your ass itch, but that's okay; it's just a side effect. don't worry about it." the three horses stayed a few hours, played a few games of pool and darts, and went home.

over the course of the next three days, they went back to the bar each night, and bill continued the regimen of mystery beer. his racing times did improve! he was slowly moving back up in the rankings, and was soon back into the top three with ernie and ted. bill was ecstatic, and thanked the llama profusely.

"hey, my pleasure," said the llama.

a few weeks passed by, and ernie started slowing down. after losing three races in a row, he sobbed to himself, "i just don't get it. my life couldn't be better. i can't believe I'm getting old! they'll send me to the glue factory if i don't get back in the groove!"

that evening, at the bar, he told the llama bartender about his troubles, and asked if he too could try the mystery beer. "okay, but remember, it'll make your ass itch - but don't pay it no mind. it's just a harmless side effect."

"no problem. it'll be worth it to get back in the groove," ernie said.

a few days went by. ernie's ass did indeed itch, but after a few more days, his races improved, and he was back in the top three with bill and ted.

at the bar one evening, ernie bought a round of beers for all the horses, and thanked the llama profusely.

"i just can't believe how great that mystery beer worked!" ernie said. "you're sitting on a gold mine, there!" the llama said it was his pleasure, don't worry about it, etc.

a few more weeks went by, and now ted started slowing down, losing races. he, too realized that he'd be shipped off to the glue factory unless his races improved.

"say," he said to the llama one night after a particularly humiliating loss, "i think i need to try that mystery beer too. they'll ship me off to the glue factory for sure if I don't start winning again."

"no problem," the llama said, pulling out an unlabeled bottle. "here. come back every night, and i guarantee you'll be back in top form again, or i'll give you double your money back."

over the course of the next few weeks, ted's races continued to improve until he was back in the top three with bill and ernie. he pranced into the bar, full of vim and vigor, and thanked the llama profusely. "you know, my ass itches a lot; it's almost unbearable. but i can't thank you enough. they would have turned me into glue by now if it weren't for you. anything you want, let me know and i'll see what i can do."

"no problem," said the llama, "i make this beer at home using an ancient inca recipe. it's just my way of thanking my regular customers for their patronage over the years."

"i'm not kidding," ted said, "this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. anything, you name it, anything you want, let me know, and it's yours."

"well, now that you mention it..." the llama began -

right then, a greyhound walked up to the bar. he was obviously depressed.

"barkeep, give me something strong. i'm on a losing streak you wouldn't believe," the greyhound said.

ted looked at the greyhound, then at bill and ernie, and said, "hey, look! a talking dog!"

[moonstruckme]

I’m not quite sure if this is too explicit so if it is please feel free to decline, but I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader who has a past with sexual assault so is kind of iffy and stand offish about sexual inter course? Again, all good if you can’t because it is a touchy subject ! I hope you’re having a lovely day/night !! (p.s. I love your writing so much :3)

Thank you gorgeous, love you <3

cw: trauma response, mention of past sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Sometimes you can feel left out. Of the easy way the boys touch each other, the knowingness they have of the other’s bodies, the in-jokes about intimate aspects of their relationship that aren’t secret from you but you’re not a part of. And you know in your bones, in that thrumming, impossible-to-ignore beat inside your ribcage, that you’re not ready to be a part of them, but it still hurts to have something about your boys that’s separate from you. Some part of them you can’t access, and it’s only because you won’t allow them access to you in return. 

And sometimes, like now, things go astonishingly well. Sometimes you can let them touch you while feeling nothing but the pleasant warmth of love and lust brewing like a potion in your core. Sometimes you can let yourself tug Sirius closer as he kisses you, can swallow the soft sounds he makes into your mouth without your mind taking you anywhere other than this bed, this boy. 

Sometimes you can get so lost in them it feels like the fear can’t find you. 

“Okay?” Sirius’ breathes, setting a tentative hand on the small of your back. He tastes like coca cola, and his lips are a manifestation of every soft and earnest part of him he never shows. “This okay, sweetness?” 

You nod fervently, trying very hard not to think as you tunnel your fingers into the featherdown silkiness of the hair behind his ear. 

“Yeah?” You’re growing quite sick of all his talking, persistent in your kisses even when Sirius breaks them. His mouth curves against yours, sensing this, and his hand settles more comfortably into the curve of your spine. “Alright, you’re in charge. Just let me know if anything’s too much.” 

You make a muffled sound of acknowledgement. Truly, logically, you feel safe with Sirius, the same as you would with Remus or James. It was his idea that you be on top, after Remus figured out that you feel most comfortable when you don’t feel trapped, after James was the one to initiate the conversation on how they can make you feel good while respecting your (admittedly, nebulous and often fickle) boundaries. You haven’t worked up the courage to do anything beyond kissing, and none of them have pushed you. Really, you’ve been the one doing the pushing, wanting more and more from the kissing until it’s turned into this, you and Sirius hiding from dishwashing duty with you on top of him and sucking his face like a dementor.

You grind your hips down into his, and Sirius’ chuckle rumbles through the both of you as he grabs a greedy handful of your ass. 

Your breath stills in your lungs. 

You still completely, actually, every inch of you rigid, from your bum under Sirius’ hand to your eyes, stuck closed tight. The only part of you that seems to get that you’re still alive is your heart, thrashing wildly inside the bars of your ribcage like it wants to escape when you can’t. 

“Shit.” Sirius’ hand flees upward, skimming up your back to safer territory below your shoulder blades. “Shit, sorry, baby. You okay?” 

You want to tell him yes, in every physical, objective, important way you’re just fine. But your breath is frozen solid somewhere between your throat and your lungs, and it won’t let you speak. 

“Sweetheart.” Sirius is starting to sound desperate, though he’s clearly trying to stay calm for your sake. He sets gentle hands at your waist, sitting you up while he eases out from under you. You expect you’ll move like a statue, but your arms move of their own mind once freed, wrapping tight around your middle. “You’re okay, baby, you’re safe. I’m so sorry, I was—I should have asked. I moved too fast, I didn’t mean to scare you. Can you talk to me, please?” 

“Sorry,” you manage. Something comes loose inside you. The air comes back to your lungs, you pull your legs up onto the bed, and laughter unspools from inside you like wire long coiled tight. 

Sirius doesn’t smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that. Are you okay?”

It’s now that James and Remus decide to come and see what you’re up to. At the sound of Sirius’ panic-tight voice, their footsteps hasten down the hallway. James taps on the doorframe and you turn to him so fast your neck clicks. His face is melded by a soft worry. 

“Everything alright?” he asks. 

You nod, but Sirius must signal something different from your other side, because James and Remus advance forward the way one might approach a feral kitten. 

“Are you okay?” Sirius asks again, voice cracking now that the other two are here. 

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” Remus says gently. “Maybe stop touching her for a bit.” You hadn’t even noticed Sirius’ hand gripping your leg, but its removal feels like you’ve lost a thousand pounds. You fight back a shiver. “She’s okay. Aren’t you, darling?” 

To hear worry in even Remus’ voice is significant, and you try to make yours even to counter it. “Yeah,” you agree. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” James promises, crouching in front of you and Sirius. You’ve nowhere to hide from his melty-soft gaze. “What happened?” 

“I went too far.” Sirius’ voice sounds like it hurts, scraping its way out of him. Your heart throbs in response. 

You shake your head, insistent and perhaps a touch too fast. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I was—I—I escalated things, and then it just—”

“Take a deep breath,” Remus instructs. 

“I’m fine,” you say again. 

“Please, sweetheart. Just try.” 

You do, for his sake, pushing air in and out of your lungs like you’re trying to inflate a balloon. They won’t get as full as you want them too, but it’s not until you try that your body seems to catch up to what’s been happening. You start trembling all over. 

“Shit.” Your voice thickens, tears threatening. “Sorry, this is so uncalled for.” 

“It’s not,” James says. “Can I—can I hold your hand, or are you not ready for that yet?” 

“Please,” you squeak out. 

He grasps your hand, and you squeeze tightly, breathing until the tears don’t press at your eyes so insistently. You hate that the ugly thing of your past is touching something this good. That it’s hurting people who aren’t you, like it’s a virus you caught and now you’re spreading it.

“It’s really not your fault,” you tell Sirius, turning to him. “I thought I could handle it.” 

“I shouldn’t have moved without checking,” he replies in a similar tone. “I’m so sorry, sweetness, I never want to scare you like that.” 

You shake your head. “You don’t.” 

A dense silence lapses, not uncomfortable but full of things unsaid. James’ hand is warm in yours. 

“Hug?” you ask Sirius. 

He looks surprised. “Are you sure?” 

You nod, extricating your hand from James’ to wrap your arms around his middle. Sirius is tentative at first, palms placed lightly on the high and low points of your back, but when you hold him tighter he reciprocates. You hear Remus whisper something to James. Sirius’ fingers press into your back, the tip of his nose cold where it squishes into your neck. 

Sometimes, they make you feel completely safe. 

[jongseongsnudes]

kiss me (part three)

bff/fwb!jake. 1.4k words. ✨️smut✨️ + angst ft. lee heeseung. (part one) (part two)

“you’re so hot,” you hear him mumble into the kiss, his lips barely leaving yours as he does. his hands are everywhere, your waist, your ass, your thighs. the man was desperate for you and to be fair, you wanted him too. 

what started as a few flirty kisses with heeseung and a childish way to show jake that you in fact did not need him, turned into a full fledged heated make out session in the back of the cab, all the way into your apartment. it was the last thing you wanted yet all you wanted at the same time. someone to distract you from a particular someone else.

you were too occupied with heeseung’s lips to notice the familiar pair of men’s shoes by your door once you enter your home, ones that were surely not there when you left.

jake sim was in your apartment.

“hey- h- heeseung,” you manage to get his attention, your hand now gently pushing against his chest, “i um- i remember i had some plans tonight actually... rain check?”

you can see the disappointment wash over his face for a split second before smiling again, an understanding smile. and this was one of the many things you’ve always liked about him lee heeseung. that he respected you.

“yeah of course love,” he says while rubbing your lower back, “you need me to drop you off anywhere? it’s getting pretty late.”

“no my friend will pick me up. sorry hee, another time?”

“definitely,” he leans in to kiss you, short and sweet, “be careful okay.”

you begin to second guess your decision to abruptly kick heeseung out but the last thing you wanted was to be in the middle of a confrontation between the two best friends right now. besides, you needed to deal with jake. the thought of him currently somewhere in your apartment got you mad, especially after the fight you had earlier.

the house is quiet, the only light source coming from your living room’s television screen, exactly where you expected him to be with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. you can feel your chest heave to the sight of a topless jake, it took almost everything in you not to pull your panties aside and climb on that lap.

the things you’d do for jake sim...

“seriously? you’re just going to break into my apartment?”

your words are left unanswered as the man continues watching the screen ahead as if you weren’t standing right in front of him.

“whatever then. at least close the door on your way out when you get bored.”

you leave him be, no longer wanting to deal with the toxic situation that shouldn’t have been a situation in the first place. 

bits and pieces of your clothing and accessories are scattered behind as you make it to the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to sink into a warm bath and relax for the night. but of course the world always seems to have other plans for you.

“didn’t think you had it in you.”

sigh.

you don’t bother turning around to his newly arrived presence at the bathroom doorway, instead opting to continue slipping out of your undergarments as if he wasn’t even there, “i don’t want to talk to you right now jake.”

“so you let heeseung put his tongue down your throat but can’t even talk to me?”

you were quick to whip around this time, a frown dawning your face at how ridiculous he was being. the audacity this man had to even speak to you that way, in your home after ignoring you just a moment before.

“excuse me?” you were on the brink of exploding now, your hand balled up and ready to throw him out if you had to, “you broke into my house for what? to say these things to me?”

“well i’m not wrong! why bother fucking with me then go straight to heeseung?” he was now right up against you, his much taller frame towering over yours, gradually cornering you in against the vanity, “he’s my fucking best friend!”

you’ve seen jake angry numerous times before but never have you seen him like this. he is evidently fuming with eyes so dark, even his breathing was ragged.

“so that’s your problem? so you’re saying that i can fuck anyone else besides your best friend? easy. i’m sure sunghoon or jay would be down if i was to call them right now.”

if jake was considered stubborn, well, you were even worse. between you and the man, you were the one who always got your way. to be fair he did have a soft spot for you and you’ve used this to your advantage... when necessary. 

the bathroom then goes eerily quiet, the two of you though still visibly angry, are now much calmer than before. the heavy tension that filled the air just a moment before was now slowly turning into a different kind of tension.

the one you always felt when you both wanted each other.

“i’m tired jake... please just go-”

he leans in without hesitation, kissing you hard and cutting off your words. he even cups your cheeks, angling your face up to him so he can deepen the kiss and you let him. by now you weren’t even fighting him anymore, your entire body melting right into his hold.

as always.

you did’t want to admit it but this kiss with jake sim was the one you’ve been yearning for all night, even when kissing someone else.

you were just crazy for him.

“it’s not them, it’s you...” he whispers, his voice barely audible as he pulls away slightly, “you’re my problem.”

“what- what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t want to see you with anyone else.”

before you could even respond, jake slowly moves down your body, his lips leaving behind a trail of soft kisses on your skin. you almost scream when he reaches your panties, the man’s mouth just hovering over it for a few moments. just to drive you insane.

“you’re perfect you know?” he coos, his hands now grasping onto your waist as yours grab onto the vanity for support.

“you say that sim... but then turn around and say the same to other girls...”

“they’re nothing baby. i’ve always wanted you.”

your breath hitches when he yanks your panties aside and lifts one of your legs over his shoulders, his lips immediately pressing onto your clit without warning, eager to have you. his wet tongue laps at your heat, tasting every part of you, causing your knees to almost buckle at the intense pleasure your whole body immediately feels from it.

you watch him through hooded eyes, the view of jake sim kneeling before you, one that always pushed you over the edge, that had you seeing white. that had you going completely feral.

but despite the moment, with his tongue deep in your folds and with your fingers knotted in his hair, you just couldn’t forget all that happened tonight.

what should’ve been a strictly no strings attached situation had become something it shouldn’t have. it all somehow spiralled out of control so quickly, like the flame in your heart that grew to the point of no return for the man.

and from what you’ve learned from romance movies your whole life... this was not going to end well. especially for you.

“ja- jake...” you barely manage to push him back by the shoulders, stopping the man from doing what those lips were literally born to do. he looks at you with concern as he stands to his feet, arms immediately holding your sides to pull you closer.

“what’s wrong baby?” 

you may regret this later but you knew it was the right thing to do... before you fall even further.

“i don’t want to do this anymore jake. lets... stop.”

end(????)

2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

[hsllfirescoopsreblogs]

✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*✧.*

「 ✦ aaron hotchner ✦ 」

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all aaron hotchner stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

┌──────────────────┐

MASTERLIST ✈️ CRIMINAL MINDS ✈️ 4/25/24

✐ @luveline

✎ sick of maybe

✑You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).

✎ a solitary mistake

✑ You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped. 

✎ spontaneous phenomena

✑ Hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. Or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time Hotch does.

✎ love, an abstract concept

✑ You learn how to be someone’s girlfriend. Or, 5 times Hotch raises your expectations (+1 time you raise his).

✎ if things go bad

✑ when an unknown intruder breaks into your apartment, you call hotch. he races to make it to you in time.

✎ bau!reader

✎ bau!reader

✎ bau!reader

✎ doctor!reader

✎ pregnant!reader

✐ @dudeitiskarev

✎ my one and only

✑ It’s Derek and Savannah’s wedding, and to Hotch, you’re the prettiest person in the room.

✎ i want to hold your hand

✑ Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.

✎ jealously

✐ @kimstills

✎ some reassurance

✑ in which you try to provide aaron with some reassurance after he asks for his worst qualities.

✐ @ssahotchnerr

✎ something good

✎ rom coms

✎ according to plan

✎ makeshift

✎ something exhilarating

✎ like dad does

✎ public displays of affection

✎ stay with me

✎ not so friendly competition

✐ @greg-montgomery

✎ request

✐ @headkiss

✎ something more

✑ you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

✎ steady hand

✑ hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.

✐ @honeypiehotchner

✎ gold star

✑ You’re Jack’s teacher and Aaron is basically your nemesis. Until he’s not.

✐ @chvoswxtch

✎ baby

✐ @hotchfiles

✎ half asleep takin’ chances

✑ there was no way around it, he needed an actual babysitter. so he finds you. and then he gets home to you adorably sleeping with jack on the couch to spider-man.

✎ no rainfall, no sunshine

✑ if there was a god, he wasn’t merciful, he was bloodthirsty, and he had a vendetta against aaron. he’s cursed, he knows it.

✐ @hotchscvm

✎ three cents

✑ you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.

✐ @erwinsvow

✎ coffee, black, two sugars

✑ aaron hotchner is a lot of things. in love with you is one that you never saw coming.

✐ @atlabeth

✎ too sweet

✑ a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

✐ @ptersparkers

✎ reckless

✑ After two years with the BAU, you get the feeling that Aaron Hotchner isn’t your biggest fan. That’s too bad, because you really like him.

✐ @spacecowboyhotch

✎ in the east and west

✑ hotch and reader realize some things.

✐ @velvetcloxds

✎ bias

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

[caraphernellie]

can you write something about reader and ellie being in a new relationship! they’ve only had sex a few times and in this particular instance, ellie finds out reader has a praise kink. soft dom!ellie pls<3333

MEOWWWWWW this 😭 is 😭 the cutest 😭 idea 😭 ever 😭😭😭 softdom!ellie my favouritest ever. you will almost always find me writing softdom!ellie. um also this ended up being way longer than i intended! so... this was meant to be like, a blurb. a few paragraphs. it's over 900 words. yeah

cw: softdom!ellie, sub!reader, oral (r!receiving), finger sucking, overstim, looooots of sappy praise !!

　　　　　mdni  ,  nsfw  under  the  cut  ౨ৎ

"shh shh shh."

soft coos echo in the room, ellie trailing tender kisses up your stomach. the love is so fresh that the two of you can't help but be a little shy still, though, you more than ellie. the girl was glad to get her hands on you the very first time you'd let her. 

weeks later and she's just as enthusiastic, though reminding herself to steer things slower and gentler. you're still learning so much about each other, like what sets or ruins a mood, what's strange but stimulating, and especially for ellie – she's paying close attention to learning just how much you can take.

slicked fingers prod at your lips and without a second thought you part them. the fingers flatten on your tongue, and ellie's lips curl upwards when you accept it with a pleased hum.

"you can taste yourself, can't you?" she whispers, nipping at the skin of your jawline. the room's almost dead silent, aside from honeyed words and the lewd sounds of you sucking her fingers. "doesn't it taste good, babe? uh-huh… i know."

eager with her hands, ellie's had no issue with the physical aspect of sex. but this is the first time she's been so verbal in the moment, and she's already picking up on the difference it's making. what an effect it's having. and all it does is go straight to her head. a steep boost to that ego of hers, which to be fair, could use one.

ellie slides her fingers out of your lips and chuckles to herself, smearing spit over them, thinking about how pliable and docile you are three orgasms deep into her bed.

"just gotta have a taste," she murmurs, so close to your ear that you can feel her breath fan against you. it's so warm, as is the rest of the room, the scent of sex ruminating in the air. she dips down, resting back between your legs.

she's so focused until your hand paws at her head, taking grip of her hair, and you mumble the tiniest, "too sensitive, don't think it's a good idea, so–"

"oh, no baby, you can take it," ellie encourages, a less cocky and more reassuring smile left on her face now. "you're so good at taking what i give you, i think you can handle this. just one more for me, yeah?"

holy shit. the reassurance has such an effect– you feel it hard as you attempt to let go and let ellie continue. she pays no mind at first, hands languidly pushing apart your thighs, handfuls squishing at your skin. and yet your mind is still lost over her words. she's been borderline worshipping you all night and yet you're beginning to realise that what is setting tonight apart from all the others is her being so verbose. the praising of your body and your submission – the voice in which she says it and you can tell she means it.

first, she tucks that one temperamental strand of hair back behind her ear, and then she licks a tentative stripe down your soaked pussy. 

before your shaking hand takes leisure in ellie's hair – which she knows would end in fruitless tugging – she catches your hand in hers. "that's it, pretty girl. mmh, i know it's so intense, but you're gonna lay here and take it all, ain't that right?"

you nod so fervently, squeezing ellie's hand. she's definitely been beginning to notice this sudden affinity for her praises. it's amusing, yet at the same time, so rousing. 

a soft kiss against your clit has you bucking your hips closer, yet your hips want to wriggle away. you can't tell what you even want. but that's okay, isn't it? ellie's already decided for you.

thumbing at your clit now, ellie gives you a wide grin, watching you struggle and writhe. "oh, is that too much?" she watches you shake your head, admiring the look of sweet determination on your face. "no? good girl."

she all but dives into your cunt, lapping and sucking your cum like she's starving. she won't stop until you've covered her face in it. she's making careful, very intentional use of words now– rasping them against your hot skin so that you truly, physically feel her praise. feeling your hand squeeze hers so tight eggs her on, her eyes boring into your own. ellie watches you try at anything to ease the overstimulation, your free hand grasping and squeezing your tit. she listens to your mewls and moans over the sounds of her slurping your pussy.

"that's it, baby," ellie coos, "i know, i know. you're being so fuckin' good for me."

"ellie," you sigh, she can see it clearly, how fast your breathing picks up and how your legs threaten closure around her head. "ellie, oh, oh my god."

"you taste too sweet, baby," ellie muses, watching it all go right to your head. the way your eyelids droop, you're close. 

this has been her greatest bedroom discovery yet. with you teetering on the edge of orgasm, she makes her next words count, her voice reverberating against you. "be a good girl now, cum for me."

[mistywaves98]

Nerd Scara <3 stealinh our panties to pleasure himself

Nerd scara finding out were a virgin?!! He would go absolutely Feral, and I know he’s already on his knees sloppily eating us out <3

Or maybe he’s rutting himself into our bed sheets as he sucks on our chest <3 he can’t help himself you feel so warm and good

He's going feral if he finds out he's your first 😶

✧･ﾟ:* ->Loser Nerd! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Cunnilingus, Sub! Reader, Shy! Reader, Fingering, Overstimulation, Only one line of Dialogue!

After all those nights of jerking off with the lacy undies he stole borrowed from you and imagining what your pretty little pussy must look like beneath them, he never thought that he'd get to see or even taste the real thing.

But here you were, sitting on the couch of your dorm, legs spread to reveal your bare folds to his perverted gaze as you shyly cover your face to hide your embarrassment. He's like a kid receiving candy as his fingers hesitantly rub along your slit, the feeling of your arousal coating his hand and your soft moans making his dick harden beneath the fabric of his pants.

Once Scaramouche gets over his initial shock and accepts the fact that he's really the first person to ever touch you so intimately, he completely lets himself go. He presses his face into your pussy, his tongue messily lathering up your juices as his nose nudges your clit. His hands curl around your plush thighs, nails leaving marks on your soft skin from how hard he's gripping them as he holds them over his shoulders. The way your thighs suffocate the sides of his head is heavenly and he groans as your delicate fingers weave their way into his hair, tugging him as close as he could physically be.

Scaramouche feels like he could cum just from tasting you on his tongue, shameless moans vibrating against your sensitive folds. The wet muscle makes an absolute mess between your legs as saliva coats your outer lips. Your head is thrown back in pleasure when he shoves two fingers up your cunt, pulling back a bit to admire the way your tight walls suck them in. You're squeezing his fingers so hard, Scaramouche can only imagine how it would feel if he replaced them with his stiff cock.

He moves to work on your neglected bud, warm mouth enveloping the swollen bundle of nerves and sucking feverishly. Your face is flushed and sweaty, chest heaving as whines for more fall from parted lips. Your body spasms and shudders in his firm grasp as he makes you cum on his tongue, again and again. Moans for more eventually morph into cries asking him to stop, that it's too much. But he's too pussy drunk by now to listen.

His spit mixed with your cum covers the lower half of his face and Scaramouche is sure that he's probably climaxed at least once in his pants from eating you out non stop for the past hour or two. The glasses that now sit crooked on his face are also dirtied, making it difficult to see but he doesn't need to see when he can just taste you.

After what feels like forever, he finally removes his head from between your legs. Strings of saliva connect his lips to your cunt. He looks like a mess, hair disheveled with cum covered glasses and face but he isn't done yet. Tears of overstimulation that have now dried up stain your puffy cheeks as he pushes you onto the couch, getting on top. You can feel his clothed erection against your abused pussy, making you writhe as he holds you down to prevent you from escaping.

He grabs your wrists and holds them above your head, leaning in to whisper in a raspy tone,"You taste so fucking good... I can't get enough. I want to see you cum because of me, because of my mouth, my fingers..and my cock..."

[asapeveryday]

Breath Me In

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Warnings: Smut (Fingering), weed, alcohol

Summary: Uconn’s end of summer party brings you all sorts of highs.

A/n: can you tell I like party settings??? Anyways. We need more fics of Paige receiving instead of always giving pls!! Someone please this girl!

Summer is coming to a close. Long August days turn to colder September nights, and the students of Uconn have mostly moved in for the new semester. A new year of college calls for a party.

Uconns annual end-of-summer party was an absolute staple to attend for seniors, richer students who lived in housing nearby often responsible for hosting. Summery rap and pop blasting, coolers and twisted tea by the gallons, string lights in big green backyards, patio furniture overrun by couples making out or slowly sobering up. It was a sight to behold, and you relished in the feeling of this, the beginning of the end of school.

When you make your way throughout the house, various people stop to talk to you, including the hostess herself.

Stella DeSantos is a trust fund girl who’s in her senior year for sports marketing, and this years lucky party organizer. She has the means, obviously, because the house is massive.

“So… gonna start the year off with some dick or what?” She laughs, already tipsy.

You just smile and shake your head. “I’m chill right now.” Is your reply. Honestly you just didn’t want to pull the ‘id rather have pussy’ card on her.

The girl swings an arm around you. “I could set you up with some really athletic guys if that’s your thing.” She hiccups. “Want a drink?”

She thrusts a mango white claw into your hand and you take it reluctantly. As much as you loved getting wasted the party was a bit too rowdy to feel comfortable. You were desperately searching for someone you knew well enough to hang out with that wasn’t already drunk, with no luck.

You stick by Stella for a while, standing by as she greets people and gets drunker by the minute. You’re still holding the same White-claw, though it’s mostly empty.

You’re scoping out the scene yourself, the house is filled with kids you’ve been in school with for the past years. Your gaze stops in the kitchen, where two girls reside. One tall with dark skin, hair slicked back and clothes baggy. You’d had classes with Aubrey Griffin before, she was intimidating but attractive.

The other girl was paler and slightly shorter, blonde hair tied back into a bun and glasses on her face.

“Paige!” Stella calls out, as if sensing your thoughts. She makes her way over to the two girls and you awkwardly follow behind. Everyone knows Paige Bueckers. She’s one of those students, everyone mostly likes her and she’s friends with all the right people. It puzzled you how someone so gay still attracted so many guys.

Stella talks to Aubrey and Paige, and they politely engage despite obviously being thrown off by how drunk she is. Their shared looks almost make you laugh. You take this as a chance to get a good look at Paige. She mostly stayed out of trouble or tough rumours, and kept to her main group of friends, so aside from her talent on the court you knew almost nothing.

You let yourself stare at her, noting her blue eyes, long lashes and wide smile. She carried herself confidently, but looked uncomfortable.

Finally she turns to meet your eye, and when her tongue flashes out to wet her lips you physically feel something in your stomach drop.

“You her babysitter or something?” She smirks.

“You’d think she knows how much she can handle by now.” You scoff. Stella barely notices, fully talking to Aubrey.

Paige’s eyes dart to the drink in your hand. “Good luck finding a ride home tonight.”

Before you can respond, maybe by telling her your name or sparking better conversation, Stella’s attention is drawn somewhere else and she starts to drag you away.

You turn to get one last look at Paige, and internally celebrate when your eyes meet.

-

As the summer sun finally began to set, it got a little too cold for everyone to be outside. The inside of the house was absolutely packed, the music was louder and the air was thicker. The smell of smoke and sound of people was starting to irritate you, but for whatever reason you didn’t want to leave just yet.

Stella was nowhere to be found and you were sitting on the kitchen counter next to some other girls, quietly sipping some drink while listening in to conversations. The original plan of staying mostly sober was ruined by your boredom, and though you weren’t drunk you felt significantly warmer and a little more confident.

“Oh, it’s you again.” A voice says. You turn to see it’s Paige and your heart skips a beat.

“I have a name.” You reply, not caring if you come off rude. She doesn’t seem to care either, just raising her eyebrows at you. “And it is?”

You tell her your name and she repeats it to herself with a smile. “I’m Paige.”

“I figured.” You laugh. The alcohol was making everything seem like less of a deal, had you talked to her more before you probably wouldn’t have been so casual.

“You drunk?” She asks, leaning against the counter across from you. At this angle you’re pretty much looking down at her, she looks cuter with her eyes wide and head tilted slightly upwards. You almost let your imagination get ahead of you.

“Getting there. You?”

Paige shakes her head no. “You don’t seem like much of a drinker.”

With a shrug, you say “This party is less fun than I thought it would be.”

“I’m gonna head outside if you’re tryna come.” She shrugs back.

You hop off of the counter and are reminded of the fact that Paige isn’t short. She seems happy that she’s not looking up at you anymore.

“Sure, why not.” You smile.

She leads you to the backyard and the sudden quiet is surprising. The music is muffled and the air is fresher, it’s a beautiful night and the yard is empty for the two of you. Paige heads straight for the pool, sitting down by the edge of the deep end and taking off her shoes, letting her legs dangle in the water. You join her and do the same.

“So you came to a party and you’re not drinking or getting high?” You ask her.

“Ah ah,” she smirks. “I’m getting high for sure, jus had to be a little sneaky. You can keep a secret, right?” Paige tilts her head at you, and you almost melt right there and then.

“I’m great at keeping secrets.” You eye her, tilting your head like she does. “But can all those people?” You gesture to the kids inside the house.

“Everyone in there is gonna be too drunk to remember me sneaking out for a blunt with a girl.” She finally breaks eye contact, reaching into her pocket for a tin of pre-rolled blunts.

She said ‘with a girl’ like her being with you could be a topic of conversation. The thought makes your mind race.

When Paige lights up and gets the first hit, her whole composure loosens.

The blue from the pool water reflecting onto her face, the slight glow of the blunt against her lips, the way she blows the smoke afterwards. It’s driving you insane.

You stare at your legs in the water, her pale ones next to yours. The night is beautiful. She’s beautiful. You wonder if she’ll remember anything tomorrow.

“Want sum?” Paige interrupts your thoughts, holding out the blunt. You know you shouldn’t mix weed with alcohol, but your heart is buzzing and her lips had already been on it, so you can’t say no.

Taking it from her nimble fingers (which you cursed yourself for even noticing) you inhale, letting the smoke fill you up before letting out a long breath, trying to ignore her sharp eyes on you.

“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you around before.” She says, taking back the blunt. You let the statement linger in the air. For every hit you take, she takes three. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are already slightly pink.

“Are you not the noticing type?” You ask.

Paige’s eyes meet yours. “Are you?”

You laugh and take the blunt from her, holding the smoke in before tilting your head back and blowing it into the night sky.

“I notice a lot of things.” you say, glancing at her lips before meeting her eyes again.

“Oh yeah?” She says quietly, analyzing your features. If it weren’t for the drinks and the weed, you would’ve felt like prey under her watch.

“Yeah.” You match her tone.

She’s closer than you remember her being. The air smells like weed and chlorine, but she smells like summer.

Nobody says anything, you just keep passing the blunt.

“What was your first time getting high like?” You ask her.

“Freshman year, me and some other girls on my team decided we were gonna do it together.” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Don’t know why we started with edibles, but we were still high the next morning.”

“Oh shit.” You laugh.

“Yeah,” she huffs “and we had practice that afternoon, must’ve gone through like 3 bottles of eye drops each. What about you?”

“Senior year of high school.” You cringe and she smiles at your expression. “My girlfriend- at the time, was kind of addicted. Didn’t seem like a big deal then, but she begged me to smoke and I did. It was whatever.”

“Girlfriend?” She asks.

“You’re surprised?” You chuckle. “Shit, you really don’t notice anything.”

“Shut up.” She flicks your shoulder. “Any girlfriend now?”

“Fuck no.”

“I feel that.” She blows smoke into the crisp air. There’s a moment of comfortable silence, you looking into the water and her looking at you, before she finally says “Can I try something?”

“Like what?” You ask.

You can tell her thinking is slightly hazy, she’s moving slower and her eyes are tired, it’s attractive.

“Lemme jus show you…don’t freak.”

Paige takes a hit, then leans into you. In an instance her lips are on yours, prying you open and exhaling smoke into your mouth, then she pulls away. You resist the urge to choke, but manage to exhale smoothly. Your lips tingle where she made contact with you, and you feel your face get red at her expression. Paige is practically entranced.

“Little warning would’ve been better next time.” You cough.

“We can try again if you want.” She smirks, and you roll your eyes.

Once again Paige takes a hit then leans into you, this time placing her hand on your face. She huffs the smoke inside your mouth and you gladly take it, now knowing what to expect. When she pulls away you don’t turn your head, you just blow out the smoke, letting it cloud both your vision and hers. When it clears she’s staring dead at your lips.

Her lips meet yours again, this time without any weed. She’s taking her time with you, tongue exploring your mouth attentively, one hand still on your face while the other finds your thigh.

Her hands are calloused and controlled against your skin, her glasses bump your face as you kiss her. Her lips are soft.

You let your hands wander too, dancing under her black t-shirt and gripping her waist. You can feel her abs, toned from her athletic lifestyle. You can only imagine the things you could do with her abs alone.

Her hand leaves your thigh and meets yours under her shirt, gripping your wrist she guides you to her sports bra, letting you get under it and feel her breasts.

She sighs into your mouth when you lightly pinch her nipples, her usually confident voice now almost needy.

Paige’s kisses trail down to your neck, licking and biting into your soft skin. You let your fingers ghost against her until they reach the waistband of her sweatshorts.

“Can I?” You whisper, eager to feel her.

“Fuck, yes.” She murmurs against you, sucking beautifully painted hickeys from your neck to your collarbone.

When your fingers rub her through her boxers you can hear her breathing change, and it’s doing things to you. Rubbing slow circles on her clit, you feel yourself getting wet.

“You let every girl down your pants, Paige?” You mumble. She stares up at you, eyes wide and bloodshot.

You relish in the way she bites her lip when your pace quickens, you can feel her slick through the boxer briefs and you can’t help but tease her. “So wet already…”

Finally you let your hand slip into her briefs, finding her entrance and teasing around her hole. Her hips jerk upwards, giving you room to move, offering herself to you. “Stop talking.” She grumbles, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

You connect with her lips again as your fingers finally dip inside of her, causing her to let a soft moan out. You realize suddenly that anyone inside the house could come outside and see you two, but with all the weed and alcohol you couldn’t care less, you couldn’t stop now, not when Paige was grinding against your fingers and letting out sweet whimpers into your mouth, her hands feeling you all over.

Breaking the kiss is the best decision you make, because you can actually see her. Her face is perfect, hair falling out of her bun, glasses sliding down her nose, her expression a sexy, needy pout, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

You pick up the pace, pumping your fingers in and out of her and grinning as her whimpers get a little louder. The noise of her slick, her voice, the crickets outside and the muffled music is almost magical to you. Her blue eyes shining and glossy from the weed and the reflection of the water.

“Fuck.” She murmurs, covering her mouth. “Oh, fuck.”

Her hips are violently bucking now as you curl your fingers inside of her and use your thumb to apply pressure to her clit. Her eyes are screwed shut now, and you can tell she’s close.

“Gonna cum for me Paige? Cmon baby, let it out.”

She calls out your name, legs open and pussy throbbing against your fingers. Finally she loosens around you, reaching her orgasm.

She’s still clinging to your body and catching her breath when you pull your hand out from her shorts, licking your fingers like you’ve just finished a meal. Paige’s eyes are trained on your lips wrapped around the same digits that were just inside of her.

You just smile at her staring. “You good?” You ask her. She just chuckles and takes off her shirt. “I’m good. Might needa cool down though.” Paige eyes you as she slips into the pool.

You laugh and take your shirt off too, slipping into the cold water with her.

It’s a good night, filling your lungs with her, breathing Paige in.

[vivwritesfics]

hi 🥹🥹 idk if this is okay but can i request a os ( or a series if you think it’s worthy, you decide ! ) where lando and yn are exes and they meet during a party after soooo many years and they are still super angry at each other (no cheating because i read your rules but idk, maybe they broke up because of distance?? or lando wanted to focus on his career ??). Despite that, tension builds up and they end up having sex all night and then they confess they never forget each other and idk a lil happy ending?

a right person wrong time ex lovers to enemies to lovers again sort of idk ahahahahahah

love youuuuuu

I've been pretty away from things for the last two days and I'm sorry, but hoping to get back on track real soon

Verstappen reader

Warnings: light smut, fingering

When you break up with someone you're still in love with, it sucks. It really fucking sucks. So much that it's easier to let yourself hate them than miss them.

It was years ago, but she still hated him. And seeing him on her television so often made her hate him more. It would have been easier if he hated her too, but he didn't. Her brother made sure she was aware of it.

She'd managed to avoid races, has done for years at this point. But Max was about to win his third championship, and he wanted her there for it.

So, he flew her out to Qatar.

For the entire race weekend, she ignored him. She ignored him with everything she had. Hiding out in the Red Bull garage, walking the other way whenever anybody dressed in orange came towards her.

But then Max won the goddamn championship. That wasn't what she was mad about. She was so fucking happy that her big brother had won the championship. She couldn't say no to going out partying with him.

Neither could Lando, either.

He didn't know she was going to be there, didn't know that she was even in the country. But, the moment his eyes met hers, fuck. He couldn't stop himself from striding over to her, drink in hand.

"Hey," he said, a little breathlessly. Well, she she looked incredibly fucking good.

Her hand reached out and struck his face. Lando held his cheek as he looked down at her. "What was that for?" He asked, but he knew. He knew how he had fucked up and he regretted it so much.

""Fuck you," she spat, stepping closer. But then she backed off to find her brother.

The night kept going on like this. They kept running into each other, dancing together for just a few minutes before she remembered who she was with and backed off.

Lando hadn't kissed her at the end of the night. He hadn't climbed into her lap as she sat in a booth (something she did to her). With her situated in his lap, hands on the back of his neck, she pressed her lips to his own.

"Fuck," he grunted against her lips as he grabbed her waist.

She whimpered and began trailing kisses down his neck. "Take me to your room, Lan," she whispered.

Her voice was so soft, how could he ever say no?

That was how she ended up in his hotel. Lando laid her on his bed, his hands touching her like he hadn't forgotten how. She moaned as he pulled down her underwear, his hands touching her thighs. Even this was better than anything she'd had in the years since they broke up.

"I've missed this," he whispered as his finger ran through her folds. She tossed her head back as he felt just how wet she was.

Fuck, he needed her now.

Lando dropped his trousers. He slowly and gently thrust his fingers into her, opening her up before he entered her.

It was like he was made to fill her. And he did, over and over again, until the sun shone through the window and light filled the room.

The new day came a new sense of clarity. She'd fucked her ex. Who the hell made the mistake of sleeping with their ex? She couldn't help but feel stupid as she looked at him, sleeping in the bed beside her. She'd missed him, so damn much.

But he was the one who didn't want her.

As she slipped out of the bed, a hand reached for her. "Don't go," he said. "Stay with me, please."

She couldn't stop herself from letting a sigh loose from her lips. "Why should I, Lan?" She couldn't stop the nickname from slipping out. "You don't want me, so why should I?"

He couldn't help but groan. "I do want you," he said.

She pulled away from him and gathered her clothes up from the floor. "Then start acting like it."

[autumnywinter]

Hiii! <3 Could you perhaps write something with Reader cheating on yandere Jingyuan?

I hope this isn't ooc! I love writing for HSR characters but I don't do it often.

Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader

Tags: NSFW MDNI, cheating, spanking, patronizing behavior, light degradation, sex as punishment, gender neutral reader, implied kidnapping

You couldn't deny you felt shame. Jing Yuan was so sweet, so doting, but he could get so busy sometimes. You loved him, you truly did, but occasionally, it was too tempting to not hook up with someone else. Just a fling, that's all you wanted. Only enough attention to make up for the lack of his while he was on duty. You didn't expect anyone to get murdered over it.

Things were supposed to go out smoothly. Your husband would be gone for the weekend, so you'd have a one-night stand and sneak back home at midnight. You didn't bother hiding the hickeys since you didn't think he'd be home.

However...

"Welcome home, dear. Did you have fun?"

He was there when you walked in. He was lounging on the sofa, eyeing you as you came in, his figure relaxed with one leg crossed over the other. There was no anger on his face. On the contrary, he smiled and looked more content than he had been in a while. But you could see it.

The glimmer in his eyes, the dangerous red that clouded his pupils. He wasn't angry. He was furious.

You flinched, wanting to shrink away into your coat. How were you supposed to explain this? "I..." Your voice came out in a rasp, throat dry and tight. You swallowed down your fear and tried again. "Yes... I did."

Part of you was still foolishly hoping he didn't know about your disloyalty, that you were overthinking his mannerisms.

Perhaps he just happened to be home early because he wanted to see you, and not because he rightfully suspected anything. Maybe you could still cover this up.

He rose from his seat and came towards you. "Did you now?" His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest. Your hands shook as they hung by your sides. "Would you like to know what I did, honey?"

It wasn't a question. He didn't care if you did or didn't want to know. He was going to tell you anyway.

His face pressed into your neck, inhaling your scent, humming against your skin. "I followed you." His lips peppered your neck with kisses as his grip tightened. "I have lots of friends in the knights that patrol the area frequently. Imagine my heartbreak when I hear my darling spouse has been sneaking around. I didn't want to believe it, so I had to see for myself."

You trembled in his hold, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Jing Yuan's tone was frighteningly even, but that only scared you more. You could feel him smiling against your skin. Forced and cold.

"When I saw you enter that man's house, I thought to myself: No, there must be an explanation for this. There's no way you would do such a thing." The more he talked, the more painful his grasp got. His nails dug into your side, threatening to puncture your skin. "So I waited outside for a while and sure enough, you came out a mess." His gaze became more narrowed, trailing down to the angry hickeys covering your skin.

"You stunk of alcohol and sweat, with all these nasty marks all over you. Even on your collarbone. Absolutely shameful."

You winced. "I'm sorry-"

"Shh." Jing Yuan's lips covered your own in a deep kiss that tasted of wine. "You were lonely without me, right? You wanted attention. I understand. There's no need to apologize. I know I haven't been paying much attention to you, so it's natural for you to look elsewhere."

Despite his understanding words, you felt trapped. Jing Yuan kissed you again and again, tongue swiping against your lips. You didn't have a choice but to open your mouth and let him in, letting his tongue explore every inch of your mouth.

He usually took his sweet time tasting you, but this time, he was impatient and sloppy. You could only grip his arms, whimpering as he poured all of his pent-up anger into the kiss.

When he pulled away, your knees threatened to give out on you. His mouth remained close, the warmth of his breath grazing your lips.

"You'll just have to make it up to me." His hand slithered under your coat and slid it off, his fingers stroking the marks on your shoulders. "These look painful. I never knew you liked pain. But I guess I never knew you were a whore, either."

His words pierced you like daggers, tears spilling from your eyes as you choked back a sob. Jing Yuan's cold eyes softened at the sight, cooing at you.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. It hurts me too when you cheat." His fingers stroked your cheek, catching some of your tears and licking them off his fingers. "I'll take care of you now, okay? Let me be your husband again." He guided you into the bedroom, pushing you onto the bed. "I'm going to fuck all of him out of you, so when I'm done, you'll only remember me. And all the other men you've seen."

Before you could protest, he flipped you onto your stomach and pulled down your pants. You squealed as his hand came down on your ass, leaving a red mark that would surely bruise later.

His palm was ice cold on your hot skin, soothing the sting from the impact.

"I want to forgive you, but I'm not going to lie to myself. You hurt me. I'd never hurt you like that." He paused, feeling between your legs. "And now you're getting aroused by this? Maybe I really have been neglecting you." He stood up to unbuckle his belt. "Let me remind you what sex feels like with someone who loves you."

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, watching him stroke himself. He looked down at you, an unsettling smile on his face.

"You know I love you, right?"

Jing Yuan climbed onto the bed, fingers tracing up your leg before pressing into your entrance. You whimpered as he eased them inside, not used to being stretched so suddenly. But he didn't care.

He thrust his fingers in and out of you, moving his fingers in scissoring motions to spread you more. You couldn't stop squirming beneath him, struggling to adjust to his pace.

"Answer me," he demanded. His fingers curled inside you.

"I do! I-I do!"

He hummed and removed his fingers, staring down at his hand covered in your wetness. He admired the way his wedding ring glistened in the low lighting, but not for long.

His gaze lowered to your reddened, flustered face, making his cock twitch.

"Good. Because I really do love you." He lifted your hips up, guiding the tip of his cock to your hole. He pushed into you and watched as you squeezed your eyes shut, desperate moans falling from your lips. Your walls wrapped around him, and he wanted nothing more than to absolutely wreck you.

So he did.

His hips snapped against yours at a rough pace, hands gripping your waist tight enough to leave finger-shaped bruises. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. But the way you cried his name was the best song to his ears.

If he weren't mad with jealousy and frustration, he would've taken a few seconds to grab his phone to record. But he needed to chase the image of that man out of your mind first.

He reached around you and started rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, grunting against your skin. His touch sent you spiraling into an orgasm, juices gushing all over his cock.

Your tightening walls drove him towards his climax as well, and he came inside of you with a satisfied groan.

Your eyes were blown wide as you felt his cum fill you up. Jing Yuan panted above you, not having the energy to pull out yet. After a few seconds, he did, watching his seed spill out of you. His hips gave a few lazy thrusts into you as if trying to push it in deeper.

"You took me so well, sweetheart." He laid down next to you, bringing your shaking body close.

"Are you still mad at me?" You breathed in his scent.

He chuckled. "I'm no longer mad. In fact, I'm happy. You just confirmed my suspicions that you can't be trusted on your own."

You didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean?"

He brought a hand to your neck, stroking the skin there. "You have a wild spirit. So it's only natural that I'd need to watch over you closely, right? So you don't wander off again. How can you cheat on me if I'm the only person you see?" He ignored your frightened expression and snuggled you close to him. "This is for the best. Everything I do is for you, Y/n."

[bbydoll18xx]

Brats Get Punished

You choose to be a brat. Punishment ensues.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Themes: slight angst, smut (18+)

I got wine drunk and came up with this. This is pure filth. I'm so sorry

Today had fucking sucked. 

No. Scratch that. The whole week had fucking sucked.

You held back tears as you walked through uconn’s campus, heading back to your dorm. All you wanted was to be taken care of. This week had been wracked with a million assignments, frustrating exams, and  family drama you couldn’t escape, even all the way in Connecticut. The cherry on the top of the miserable sundae was your lack of Paige. With basketball season ramping up and finals nearing, you hadn’t seen your girlfriend in five whole days. 

It felt like five days without air.

The thought makes your heart ache once again, and you throw on your sunglasses to hide the redness of your swollen eyes.

The bitter northeastern cold of early December made you shiver as you shoved your hands deeper into your pockets.

It was finally friday. 

Tonight you could escape into the vastness of Paige’s blue eyes. You had no thoughts when you were with her, just habitual feelings of comfort and intimacy you couldn’t get from anyone else. 

You were looking forward to cocky smirks, long, talented fingers, and a mouth that had a power to shut you up in more ways than one.

Fuck.

The thought makes your bottom lip quiver. Usually, you had a little bit more of a general grip on things; you could handle your emotions perfectly fine, thank you very much. But the overwhelming shitiness makes you want to pout and whine until you get your way. You felt sorry for anyone dealing with your bratty ass tonight. Namely Paige, but you knew she could handle it.

Trudging up the stairs to your dorm and stomping into your room, you dramatically fling yourself onto your bed. You lay there momentarily before you hear a gentle knock on your door.

Groaning, you head to open it and find Paige standing there with an apprehensive look on her face. You barely have time to register why she would be anything but ecstatic to see you before launching yourself at her taller frame.

She stumbles back at the sudden force of your body but recovers quickly, wrapping her arms around your middle and bringing you into a tight hug.

You let out all the air and frustration that had been pent up over the last week as soon as you connect.

“Paigey,” you whine, “I missed you so fucking much.” Your hands roam her body, trying to cling to her in an effort to never let her go. 

“I missed you, too, baby…” she trails quietly. 

That was weird. Why wasn't she excited to see you? Paige was always characteristically exuberant around you, and she was excitement personified. This Paige was not your Paige, and your stomach rolled with worry.

“Geno is having us do an extra practice tonight,” she explains carefully.

Your heart drops into your ass. No wonder she seemed off.

As you realize that you would be spending yet another night alone, your eyes well up with thick, hot, and angry tears. You spin on your heels, retreating back into your room in defeat.

“C’mon, talk to me. It’s not like I want to be away from you. As soon as I’m done with practice, I’ll come right over. I’ll even pick up your favorite ice cream,” she tries to reason.

“W-want you now,” you stutter out. Your words start to slur together with frustration. “Don’t even care anymore; just go away.” 

Your venomous words don't dissuade the pang in your heart. Of course you didn’t want her to go. And of course you still cared. But you were feeling like a brat and you were a glutton for punishing yourself.

“Ya know, you might want to watch your attitude,” Paige grits out. Her jaw tenses in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together. 

Then you remember you were supposed to be pissed. You roll your tear-filled eyes and cross your arms with a huff. This exasperates your blonde girlfriend even further. 

“Once you stop acting like a fucking brat, give me a call, and then I’d be happy to give you some attention. Stop punishing me for shit I can’t control.” Paige says with an impressive amount of restraint. She turns around to leave with one last disappointed glance in your direction.

In her harsh exit, you fall apart. 

Sitting in your dark room, cocooned in your sadness, guilt, and general horniness, you watch the hours slip by. 

8:00

9:00

10:00

Your eyes are tired with both sleep and grief by the time the clock turns to 11:00, but you can’t ignore the way you were pulsating with desire just thinking about Paige.

Your brain wrestles with either keeping up your facade of nonchalance and running to Paige, apologies spilling from your mouth with desperation. You were so damn stubborn, never wanting to back down, but you could barely think anymore. 

Your fingers dance around the hem of Paige’s soft t-shirt you had stolen. You fight with yourself internally before pulling it over your head with a groan. Your sweatpants quickly follow.

Dating Paige meant there was rarely a need for self-pleasure. Why would you when she was always at your beck and call?

Huffing at the sheer stupidity of the situation, you close your eyes and bring one hand to your left tit, rolling your nipple experimentally. It feels nice, but you needed more. 

You always needed more.

Your right hand trails down your stomach sensually, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and lands on the swollen nub that holds all the pleasure. Circling your clit, you try to coax out an orgasm. Your pussy was sopping after spending the evening thinking about Paige, but nothing was clicking for you. You let out a small whine of annoyance.

Your hand felt too small, too cold, too wrong. 

Nevertheless, you were fucking desperate. The unkindness of the past week had been even more cruel to your sex life. You hadn’t cum in what felt like forever. You needed this. 

Hesitantly, you enter a finger into your dripping hole. Again, it feels nice, but the angle is all too wrong. If Paige was here, you’d already be panting like a whore, begging for another finger and her tongue.

You pull out of yourself, sucking the wetness off your finger before throwing yourself back down onto the pillows. 

‘Fuck,’ you thought. It was time to surrender. You needed Paige.

Before you can overthink some more and chicken out, you feel your body pull itself out of your dorm all the way to Paige’s apartment. It's as if you have no control over your idiotic, lovestruck brain.

Paige was patient, and she was so in love with you, but you knew you’d be doing some serious groveling tonight. ‘And hopefully having some seriously good sex,’ you think slyly. 

Feeling bashful, you knock on her door. You knew she was out of practice now, and you were ready to give up your tortured whining in order to finally get what you needed. 

Paige opens the door, looking down at you with a knowing smirk. “Lemme guess, babe. You need me,” she purrs in a mocking tone that makes you want to jump her bones.

You want to protest, but you know it would be no use. She knew she held all of the power over you, and she was not going to let you walk away unscathed tonight.

“Baby, I‘m sorry,” you sigh, trying to appear as solemn as you could. “This week just got the best of me. It’s not your fault you had practice.” You really were sorry, but you were more concerned about fixing the dampness in your panties than you were about coming off as regretful about your past attitude.

Paige reaches out a hand to draw you in closer, pulling you into her familiar warmth. You could feel yourself melt into her, worries evaporating quickly. Her eyes softened at your apology, but you could still see a sadistic glint in them. 

You were so getting it tonight. You didn’t care as long as it ended with your back arching off Paige’s bed, her name leaving your lips continuously, like a prayer.

The hand that was resting on your hip trails up to rest loosely around your throat. Her thumb caresses your carotid pulse, which was pounding dangerously in her wake. She smirks at your blatant anticipation before leaning down to suck right at her favorite little spot just under your ear.

You moan lasciviously, almost causing you to miss the words she whispers next.

“Get your ass on my bed. You know what position I want you in.”

Your face heats up, and your stomach lurches. You knew you were getting the dominant version of your girlfriend tonight, but to this extent? This side of her rarely came out. You swallow thickly as you grasp the consequences of just how far you had taken things earlier.

As much as Paige’s dominant side made you feel timid, your desire to get thrown around and fucked out took over.

“Now, you little slut,” she all but growls, as you hesitate, your thoughts and apprehension momentarily stilling you. The degradation of her words ignites a flame in the pit of your belly once more, and you fall headfirst into subspace. 

You stumble into her bedroom, throwing your sweatshirt over your head haphazardly and shimmying out of your pants. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your nearly naked figure in her full-length mirror, taking a second to admire the swell of your ass and the heaving of your chest. 

Leaving you in nothing but a plain black thong, you kneel on Paige’s bed, your ass resting on your heels in a display of submission that had you wanting to be good, so good, for your blonde girlfriend. 

Paige leaves you waiting for a few minutes, making you squirm anxiously. You didn’t know what to expect with her tonight. The last time you acted this childishly, you weren’t allowed to cum. ‘Bratty whores don’t get to cum,’ you recalled her whispering in your ear mercilessly. 

‘If that was the case tonight, I might just die,’ you think as you desperately shift your thighs in an attempt to feel an ounce of pleasure.

Soon enough, Paige strolls in looking smug at your visible distress.

“My poor baby,” she pouts derisively, eliciting a whine from your mouth at the mention of you being her baby. “Why don’t you tell me why you decided to come apologize tonight. I know it wasn’t just because you were feeling guilty.” She looks up and down at you expectantly, waiting for a bullshit excuse she knew she was getting.

You realize that lying would get you absolutely nowhere with her tonight, and you decide to be honest. “Need you,” you mumble, you face feeling hot once more. “Tried touching myself. Didn’t feel as good as you…” you trail off. 

Paige’s face lights up at this admission, and she grins sinfully. “Get on your back and show me how you tried to touch yourself,” she softly demands. She had tried to get you to masturbate in front of her before, but you had always been too embarrassed to do so. It felt so ridiculously private, and the thought of her seeing your failed attempts to get off without her made you want to hide under the blankets. 

“C’mon, baby girl,” she coaxes. “If you want me to touch you, you gotta touch yourself first.” 

You stare at her, jutting out your bottom lip in protest before sighing in defeat. You adjust yourself against her pillows at the top of the bed and spread your legs teasingly. 

‘Might as well make a show of it if I have to do this,’ you think, trying to find a way to feel more comfortable with the sheer act of perversion.

Paige settles in on the edge of the bed. She had the perfect view of your soaked pussy, still hidden beneath your black thong, and of your peaked nipples, begging to be licked and bitten. You run your hands up and down your body a few times, just as you had earlier in your bedroom, trying to put on a performance to appease your girlfriend. You needed her to be in the best possible mood.

After spending a few moments tending to your tits, squeezing them with an appropriate amount of vigor, you take off your panties and throw them to Paige. She catches them, and upon seeing how soaked they were, says, “this is turning you on, isn’t it? You like having to touch yourself in front of me. Such a naughty, little slut."

You bite your lip, but nod reluctantly. This was fucking embarrassing, but it turned you on, and you hated having to admit that to her. 

“Knew it,” she responded arrogantly. “Keep going.” 

You dip a finger into your folds and swirl the wetness around your weeping hole before bringing it back up to your needy and swollen clit. A few circles around it and you’re already letting out puffs of air. Just the sight of Paige in front of you has you panting. 

You sneak a glance at Paige, seeing her enthralled by your performance. The idea of being able to please her makes you want to keep going, but you hoped you wouldn’t have to be responsible for your own orgasms tonight. Your pussy belonged to her.

“Please, P,” you moan. “I need you. My fingers aren’t enough.” 

She pretends to think about it before shaking her head with a stupid grin on her face. She was getting way too much enjoyment out of this. You let out a huff in annoyance before entering two of your slim fingers into your pussy and thrusting harshly upwards towards your g-spot. 

You knew you’d never really had any luck getting off this way. The angle was too weird, and your fingers were too small to really get you anywhere. The only g-spot you could reach was Paige’s, and you whimper at the lack of pleasure you were getting. 

Feeling incredibly frustrated, you make eye contact with the blonde, and plead with her to do something, anything, to get you closer to the finish line.

“Want some help?” Paige asks smugly. You desperately nod. “Beg,” she says shortly. 

Fuck. You had told yourself you wouldn’t beg tonight. But you were feeling hopeless, so if she wanted you to beg, you would. 

“Please, please, please, Paigey, I'll do anything for you, just touch me,” you moan brokenly. “Just need you, only you, don’t want anyone else, please, baby, please,” you let out, words overlapping each other with a vicious need to prove to her that you needed her with your whole being. 

It must’ve done the trick because before you can even register what is happening, she's on top of you, fervently kissing you and groping your tits. You preen at the attention, finally getting what you’ve wanted and needed all week, and kiss her back. You welcome the taste of her tongue in your mouth, getting drunk on the way she alternates between kissing your lips and your neck.

As she trails her kisses down your neck to your chest, you watch her lips close over a nipple, sucking it in gently before biting down, causing a gasp to leave your now swollen lips. Paige grins wickedly at your reaction, but she continues her descent towards your drenched pussy.

You buck your hips to try and meet her mouth, but she presses them back down with strong hands and avoids the area altogether. She presses hot, open mouth kisses onto your inner thighs, making you squirm even more.

Her touch, or lack thereof, made you want to cry. You needed more stimulation or you might just die.

Paige studies your wetness for a moment before meeting your eyes. She has a mischievous glint in her eye that makes your belly turn in anticipation. 

“I’ll eat you out, baby,” she simpers, “but you still need to be punished.”

You wrinkle your brow in confusion. This wasn’t punishment?

“What’d you mean?” you ask reluctantly.

Paige sits up and pats her lap. “Get your ass over on my lap. Since you decided to act like a brat earlier, I’m going to punish you like one.”

Your heart pounds once more at the realization you were about to be spanked by your girlfriend. So much for thinking you were getting let off easy tonight. 

You drape yourself across Paige’s lap, suddenly feeling extra grateful for the apartment’s emptiness tonight. It was rare that you and Paige got time to yourselves, and the idea of anyone hearing you being subjected to this was enough to make you want to hide forever.

The first smack comes quicker than you were expecting and reverberates through the small room. If it wasn’t for Paige anchoring you to her, you would’ve flown off in shock. The sharpness of the swat forces blood into your cheeks.

You internally curse yourself for how much you enjoy it. Three slaps follow in quick succession, and before you know it, you’re even more of a moaning mess in Paige’s lap. You have to force yourself to stop from grinding your hips in an effort to chase some pleasure to accompany the delicious pain of your punishment. 

Paige rubs a few circles on your ass, admiring the gorgeous pinkness that blooms under her hand. 

“Fuck, you little slut,” she murmurs. “Of course you’re enjoying this shit.”

You shake your head in protest, but to no avail. You knew she could see right through your bullshit, and she rolled her eyes fondly. “I think I’ve put my girl through enough. Are you ready to be a good girl for me?” she questions. 

“I’ll be so good. Promise,” you moan into her neck, causing her to let out a giggle.

Paige lays you onto your back once more and finally brings her mouth down to your sex. She dives in, circling your clit with her hot, wet tongue, and immediately adds two long fingers into your dripping hole with no warning. You arch off the bed wantonly, relishing in the pleasure you had been chasing for days. 

She spreads your legs apart even further, attempting to get even deeper into you. For both of you, it would never be enough. The sheer amount of desire you felt for the woman between your thighs swelled in the moment, and you feel yourself inch closer to the edge. You teeter at the brink, reveling in the throes of pleasure and passion. 

You’re babbling now-straight bullshit leaving your lips, mixing apologies and pleading for Paige to let you cum.

Paige is now full on assaulting your pussy. Three lengthy digits pushing at your g-spot at a punishing pace and sucking your clit like it was a fucking lollipop. 

Moans, groans, and slick noises fill the room. It was pure depravity, and you were both loving every second of it. In a final plea to let you cum, Paige concedes smugly. She knew she had turned your bratty ass into a whimpering mess, and she was going to relish in you coming undone in front of her. 

As soon as you get the green light, you all but scream, feeling as if everything is snapping into place all at once. Your chest heaves and your thighs try to close around Paige’s head, feeling suddenly overstimulated. Pushing them back out, Paige forces you to ride out the orgasm fully. 

“Fuck,” you groan. That was the hardest you’d cum in a while, due to the absolute buildup of it all.

Licking her lips seductively, Paige meets you in a searing kiss that makes you melt back into her soft bedding once more. Paige was always so gentle with you after being particularly dominant. 

“Gonna go get a rag. Don’t move. Gonna take good care of my sweet girl. So good for me tonight,” she praises. 

Too fucked out to protest, you lay back, allowing her to pamper you. Your eyes felt as heavy as rocks, and you struggled to stay awake.

“I really am sorry,” you mumble sleepily into her neck. “Didn't want to make you mad. Just needed you.”

“I know, baby,” Paige replies tenderly. “Not sure if the spanking was an actual punishment, though.”

You giggle at her admission. It really wasn’t. 

In fact, you were already scheming ways to get another spanking. 

‘Once a brat, always a brat.’ 

[pacifierbby]

LUCKY CHARM ✧  ; - LN4

Taglist 𐙚 masterlist

* ੈ✩‧₊ lando always said that you were his lucky charm as you always kissed the top of landos helmet on every race

: ̗̀➛ LN4 x reader

: ̗̀➛ fluffy, kissing

: ̗̀➛ Word count 549

From the beginning of your and Landos's relationship, he always told you you were his good luck charm in every race that you could possibly attend. You just thought that your being there in the stands was the luck he actually needed but he always patted you on the side giving you the go-ahead to kiss the top of his helmet before jumping into his car and giving you the thumbs up with a quiet "thank you my lucky charm". You just always laughed it off. I never believed him. You knew deep down that it was all Lando.

Stopping in front of the McLaren garage you and Lando hand in hand "You okay my love" stepping in front of you so you guys are face to face nodding lightly his hand pushing a small piece of hair away from your face "Just nervous as always" you laughed lightly. Lando always knew about the consequences when joining f1 racing, and so did you when you guys first got together. Every time he invited you to one of his races, the nerves always seemed to bubble up inside of you.

"I'll be okay, you know," looking directly at you through his mirror, "I know Lan, but I always will forever have that feeling inside my gut" getting up from the sofa slowly walking towards where lando was stood placing his arm around your waist pulling you in " I know my love I understand but let's not thing about that ay" rubbing your waist gently. Giving you a kiss on the side of your head, "I should be comforting you , not you comforting me," you laughed, making him smile slightly at you.

Lando was happy that he found someone who cared about him and who just understood that sometimes his work schedule is hard to find the right time to spend with one another, but she always made sure that Lando knew that the facetimes and the spontinatious days or nights out meant something for her and that's what makes lando fall in love with her more and more.

He took his helmet from the shelf, placed it on his head, and tapped the top, signalling to kiss it. She rolled her eyes a little as Lando bent down to her height and pressed a kiss on his helmet. "Thank you, my lucky charm," he said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the McLaren garages.

Watching Lando getting in the McLaren car the technicians and everyone surrounding him. Lando giving you a little wave and slight kiss which you catched and blowing him a kiss back.

You knew one day that you would marry this man and doesn't matter how many times you had to kiss the top of his helmet giving him the luck that he truly needed just to see him on that podium first or third will forever make you proud of him being on the stands celebrating with him and watching him spray the champagne is something you will forever enjoy watching. But when he comes down and celebrates with you for the five minutes he has time before interviews will forever make your heart dance the love that you have for this man is powerful.

Just like Lando told you you are his lucky charm.

© pacifierbby works

[zyafics]

play fake | part eight

series play fake — ( masterlist )

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

Laid out on the edge of a heavenly bed, a rustling stirs you awake.

You blink through the thinly-streamed sunlight casting into the room and adjust your vision, trying to decipher where you are.

Rafe stands in front of his closet, shirtless, searching through to find something to wear. When you lift your head off the pillow, groggy sounds escaping your lips, he turns his head. 

"Shit, did I wake you?" He asks, brows furrowed together.

"Are you going somewhere?" You respond, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. "Should I go home?"

Last night, after you accepted Rafe's invitation to stay over at Tannyhill, you didn't do anything other than shower, take a Plan B, and go to sleep. It was a long day and when Rafe shuffled into his sheets, you pulled yourself to the ledge of the mattress. It wasn't done out of separation, but because of an unusual habit you developed as the sole provider for your sisters. You always stay close enough to the edge that, if any problems arise in the middle of the night, you have the fastest exit.

Rafe shakes his head, rounding the bed to approach your side. He can't believe how pretty you are, even just waking up, fresh-faced with no makeup. His chest buzzes with an indescribable feeling.

"It's fine," he declares. "I'm about to head out to brunch with my dad. We have to talk through some things that happened last night."

You don't miss the grimace in his tone.

Frowning, you offer, "do you want me to come?"

Honestly, Rafe would love that. Having you by his side while he’s conversing with his father would ground him. Because he knows, if Ward Cameron sees him as incompetent and expandable, at least with you, he isn’t. 

"You have nothing to wear."

You glance down at your sleepwear, a borrowed shirt from Rafe's closet that cuts mid-thigh, and realize he's right. It wasn't like you packed an overnight bag and your only options are to reuse the gown from last night or your bartender work attire.

There is Sarah's closet but after Rafe's whole conflict with his sister returning, you'd rather not put it on the table.

"Right." You drawl, pressing your lips together while you consider alternatives. "You could drop me off at my house. I can change."

He shakes his head, concealing a rising smile at your determination to attend. "Not enough time."

"What time is it?"

"A quarter after eleven. I have to meet him there by noon."

He's right. The drive to The Cut is going to take most of that time.

"I'll be fine." Rafe declares. "I've handled him for the past twenty-three years. I can handle a few hours."

You nod, saying nothing. What could you say? You're taking Rafe's words at face value and if he believes he can go into this meeting without having another destructive conversation, then you can only believe him.

"I should go then." You throw the comforter off your body, the coldness of the morning breeze sends a shiver down your spine. Your legs drape off the ledge. "Since you won't be here."

"No." Rafe asserts suddenly, causing you to stop in your tracks. "I'll be back. Just hang out here."

He doesn't want you to leave. Whatever conversation he'll have with his father, it would either settle on a concession or a bad ending. Rafe already mentally prepared the layout of his day and he knows he'll need you after. To talk. To comfort. To be here with him.

"Alone?" You confirm, the idea is scandalous to your ears. "In your mansion? Aren't you afraid I'm going to steal something of yours?"

You're playing into Pogue stereotypes, testing if Rafe trusts you enough.

"You wouldn't." He shakes his head with confidence and you still don't have your answer.

“You don’t know that.” You challenge with a tease. “I saw some things downstairs I would like to take home. If I just swipe them when you leave…” Your voice trails off when Rafe settles in front of you, both arms pressed on either side of your hips and he levels down his face to be inches away from yours. 

"I could just buy them for you."

Your heart sputters. You stare back at him, admiring his freshly-clean look with a faint scent of aftershave. He looks handsome. His blue eyes set on you, captivating and waiting. For a brief moment, you could see yourself letting him in. 

You expel an awkward laugh. ‘Yeah, right,” you hit his shoulders, trying to create some distance between the two of you, but it doesn’t work. The touch only further the buzz within you, stirring something from the pit of your stomach. “Like I would let you.” 

"But you'd rather steal?"

You shrug, needing to look away, pretending to admire a thread you found on his sheets. "What did I tell you that day in Topper's house?"

He hazily recounts the details. The night when you came and propositioned him. Where he got into a fight with a stranger for harassing you. Where you patched him up.

"I only remember you on my lap."

You scoff, turning back to him. "Of course you would." 

You make a move to stand, but Rafe lays a hand on your hips, keeping you in place.

"What?" You ask breathlessly, despite the limited movement.

“You promised you were going to ride me.” He recalls lowly, pushing the fabric of his tee up your thighs and creating goosebumps in its wake. “You don’t have makeup on.”

Shaky breaths leave you, trying to remain in control. But you know you’re losing it with every light caress Rafe is giving you, igniting the heat between your legs. “Are you always this horny in the morning?”  

"Just for you, sweetheart."

Your mind is warping and you fumble for excuses.

"I have morning breath."

"We don't have to kiss."

"You have a meeting in less than an hour."

"We'll be quick."

With a huff, you retort. "Do you always have an answer for everything I say?"

He chuckles. "I know you now."

You're afraid he truly does.

Your lips part when his hand cups the underside of your jaw, tilting your gaze to meet his. His eyes scans over your features, reading how willing you are, and mumbles. "That's my girl."

Your skin buzzes with his praise, and Rafe goes to remove your shirt—his shirt that you’re wearing, the sight of which drives him insane—and exposing your bare tits and panties underneath. No matter how many times he sees you naked, it amazes him every time. That it’s him that gets to see you this way. That it’s him who gets to touch you. 

"Fuck." He whispers, sinking to his knees as his hands spread your legs apart. He wants nothing more than to sink in you, but he wants to please you first. Lowering, Rafe kisses the base of your knee to your inner thighs. "You're so fucking gorgeous."

It's things like this that make your head spin. Not the mind-blowing sex—no, that's a plus—but his words. The little acts. You don't know whether to trust them because mostly, he only utters them when you're intimate. You know how different it can be afterwards.

His fingers go under the band of your underwear and take them off with your assistance. 

"Such a pretty pussy." His thumb traces up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and causing you to buckle from his slow, teasing touch.

"Rafe." You warn. "The time."

He glances over his shoulders to the digital clock sitting on his dresser and turns back to you with a smirk. "How about you watch it and tell me how I'm doing?"

"You have a meeting soon."

"Baby, you really don't want to rush me." He declares, moving closer and pushing your legs onto his shoulders. His tongue lightly grazes your cunt, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip. "I wanna enjoy this."

Rafe flattens his tongue, performing languid strokes as your fingers threads through his hair. You arch into his face when he sucks on your clit, his fingers entering you in simultaneous thrusts. Your eyes flutter close from the sensation.

"You taste so good, baby, I could have you for breakfast every morning." He mumbles against your opening, the vibration of his rasps elevates the pleasure and aids you towards your climax.

When you come on his face, Rafe guides you through your release and when he pulls back, he checks the clock. "Not bad, huh?"

You shake your head softly, a dazed smile on your lips. "I bet I can do better."

"Yeah?"

You push yourself forward to remove his sweatpants, the outline of his bulge prominent, and while you tease him with light traces on his lower abdomen, the sound of a ringtone interrupts you.

Rafe moves over to the dresser where his phone sits and answers the call from his father. "Yeah?" He greets, listening to what Ward has to say. "You said twelve."

Another exchange is made before Rafe ends, and when he does, he rolls his eyes, agitation evident on his features. "I have to go. My dad is moving up the time."

You smother the aching disappointment and nod. "Okay," you say, picking up your panties from the floor and sliding them over your hips. You glance over to the door, contemplating your own exit. He notices. 

"I'll be back, alright?" Rafe reaffirms, coming over to plant a gentle kiss on your temple and your body leans into his touch. "Just stay."

While you wait for Rafe to explain, you take a tour around the estate. Midway through your exploration of family portraits and expensive winery around the kitchen, you receive a phone call from the babysitter. 

"Hello?" You answer, while the babysitter is scrambling to produce coherent words. "Wait, wait, slow down. What's going on?"

She doesn't explain much, informing you to get home immediately and hangs up. Your heart sputters by the sudden disconnect and you race to Rafe's bedroom to collect your things before ordering a rideshare. When you hop in, your leg restlessly taps on the floor of the car while you check the battery on your phone.

You're imagining the worst possible scenarios. Something happened to your sisters. They got injured. One of them is in the hospital. The other is missing. Or, somehow, the house caught on fire and now, you're homeless.

When you reached your destination, the car didn't halt to a full stop before you hopped out, running down the driveway to the familiar, unscathed house. That calms your mind for a moment.

Before you realize it's something much worse.

"Aaron." You murmur, shoulders tense as your eyes widen, recognizing the tall dark-haired man standing in front of your door, talking to the babysitter who's blocking the entryway. He turns his head at your arrival, eyes cascading down your body before meeting your gaze.

"Y'know, you've been a hard woman to find." He chuckles to himself, the sound making all the hair on your body stand up. Aaron pushes himself off the beam of your porch. "Where you been?"

Your heart is hammering in your chest. You glance over to the babysitter to signal her and she reenters the house and barricades the door. Inhaling a sharp breath, you try to calm yourself.

"What are you doing here?"

He tsk. "Wrong answer. I asked you first."

"I know I'm late—"

"I don't wanna hear excuses." He holds out his hand, flexing the various dark ink crawling up his forearms. "I just want an answer."

His voice is calm. Too calm. It's scaring you.

"I've been busy. Business been slow—"

"Is that not an excuse I'm hearing?" He says, stepping closer to you. You can see the outline of his gun tucked under the band of his pants and your breath shortens. "Where have you been?"

With your heartbeat in your throat, you don't know what answer you can give to satisfy him. So, you remain silent.

When Aaron realizes that, he tilts his gaze out into the driveway with a huff. "I heard you been running around with a Kook," he states, matter-of-fact, and you can smell the faint stench of nicotine wafting from his clothes. "Was that him?"

He's referring to your rideshare driver. You shake your head frantically. "No. But, I swear to you, I'll get you your money if I have more time."

He scoffs in disbelief, turning back and ignoring your pleas. His dark eyes find the pendant wrapped around your neck and he lets out a cold chuckle. "And he's been giving you some real nice gifts, too."

Fuck, this isn't a good look for you. Your panic is skyrocketing and you resist the strongest urge to hide the expensive jewelry behind your palm.

"Aaron." You begin again, your voice shifting to desperation. "I just need a little bit more time. This doesn't mean—"

He holds out another hand. "Look, I've been a nice guy. Wouldn't you say so?" He prompts, tilting his head, and when you don't answer, he adds. "I mean, what kind of person would lend you thirty grand? I consider that pretty generous, right?"

You swallow hard, your throat dry. "Right."

"And I've done nothin' yet to make you not trust me otherwise, right?"

You hesitate with a shaky breath, your knees buckling. "Right."

"So, all I'm asking is to return the gesture and give me back my money. I help you, you help me, that's how this relationship works, right?"

"Aaron, I—"

"If you interrupt me one more time, I'll cut out that fucking tongue."

You let out a small whimper, silencing yourself. Both hands tucked behind your back. He smiles at your submission, dark eyes gleaming in pride. "Good."

Aaron draws closer, stopping just in front of you. His grimy fingers trails down the length of your neck, following the chain of your necklace, before grabbing the pendant between his fingers and ripping it off. The clasp breaks and a gasp leaves your lips.

With his other hand, he seizes the back of your neck.

"Three days." He threatens, the grip piercing into your skin. "I'm givin' you three more days and if you can't pay me back by then, I won't be such a nice guy anymore."

He waves the dangling necklace in front of your face. "I'll keep this as collateral."

You're shaking under his touch and he notices, smiling crudely, before he does another sweep of your exposed body. "And y'know, there's other ways of paying me back."

Aaron finally releases you, and you stumble away from him with a few steps. The dark-haired man descends off your porch and disappears on his bike, leaving you trembling at the foot of your door.

You don't move for the next few minutes. Your mind is occupied with everything going on, that when you slip into your house, you run on autopilot.

You pay the babysitter, patting her back as a silent gratitude for her assistance and protection, and gather your sisters onto the couch, holding them close. Hugging them tight. Trying to use their heartbeats to calm yours.

The rest of the night is spent with them. They wanted to watch a movie and you pulled out an old disk of their favorite films. With that on, they quickly fall asleep on your shoulders and you carry them to their bedroom.

That's when the real work begins.

Spending the rest of your time on the kitchen island, devising a plan, you hear a knock at your door.

Afraid that the loan shark had returned to make a second visit, you hoped it would go away, only for the sound to grow more intense and adamant. Your fear spikes and you were afraid he was going to do something much worse if you didn't answer. When you approached the front door, you held your breath.

Only to find a blond.

"Where were you?" Rafe demands, his expression unreadable but his words are cold. It rubs you the wrong way, reminding you too closely of Aaron.

You can't handle it. You attempt to shut the door, only for Rafe to stick his foot between the crack and push back.

"What the fuck? What are you doing?" Rafe enters into your house, his eyes searching the place for anything out of the ordinary, anything you would hide from him, before his gaze lands on you.

You cross your arms protectively over your chest, thinking this is another one of his outbursts. "Rafe, I don't have time right now. Whatever you're pissed off about, you have to wait—"

"I came home and you were gone."

That quiets you.

"Your shit was gone. Even your mess from the bathroom was wiped clean." He recounts, struggling to conceal the vulnerability seeping through his words with each reveal. "You didn't even leave a note."

Your mind is muddled. You didn't realize it would affect him this much and something about the act endears you. You were so frantic, trying to figure out how to get home before your phone dies, that you forgot your own commitment to Rafe.

"Say something." He urges.

"What happened?" You ask softly, discovering your answer when his expression twists. Like he doesn't want to think about it. You don't want to think about your problems either. "I assumed you would go to a party."

You say that because, if Rafe didn't have you conveniently-located at his disposal, he would return to his own vices. It stings him that you still thought of him as his former image, but he couldn't completely fault you because he did—he went to one of the island's parties and came out still feeling empty.

Rafe's jaw locks as he stares at you, breathing heavily. Taking you in. How just the sight of you seems to soothe him. He doesn't know how to explain it, when the tides changed, but it did. The fact that he's here, in this rundown house in the middle of The Cut after a blowout with his father, all because he misses you says it all.

"I don't want to talk." He declares firmly, the resoluteness of his tone shocks you. "Not now. But I will, after, if that's what you want."

You draw your brows together. "What are you getting at, Rafe?"

Rafe swears under his breath. These words, these feelings are difficult to him. It's uncomfortable and unwanted and all it makes him want to do is resort back to his anger, something comfortable he can express himself in. But he can't. Not with you.

"I don't want that shit anymore. I just wanna fuck you."

Your lips part. "What?"

Unintentionally, the natural response came with a tone of hurt but you disguise it well. You recognize your own feelings in that precise moment. When you got into this relationship with Rafe, you knew nothing he does is out of the sincerity of his heart. It's a committed act. A performance of a perfect boyfriend.

Yet, it breaks your heart. How you manage to fall for him, despite knowing everything he does is fake. Even now, standing before you, he's admitting his clear intentions and you can't help but envision another meaning.

It can destroy you, this hope, only if you let it. You'd rather let the clear lines be drawn. If Rafe is telling you he wants to use you for sex, so be it. You won't ask for anything else.

When your silence becomes deafening, Rafe abandons his last shred of pride.

"Please."

You inhale sharply, evening your words. You can detach too. "Ask me."

His large hand tucks under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "Can I use you?"

"Yes."

The confirmation was all he needed before his lips slams into yours. His hands lowers to capture your ass and as a signal, you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist. Rafe moves through the hallway and towards your bedroom, kick-opening the door, causing the doorknob to smash into your wall with a loud thump.

You pull back from the kiss. "Don't break my house."

"I'll pay for that."

Rafe drops you onto the bed and pulls off his shirt you took from Tannyhill. His movements are skilled and hurried, needing to see you, to taste you. He kisses down your neck, to the curve of your shoulders, before finding himself between the valley of your breasts. His mouth covers a nipple.

You tip your head back with a moan, reveling in the way his tongue twirls around the metal barbell, igniting your nerves. Rafe rocks against your spread legs and you feel his bulge teasing your core. "Rafe, please."

"What did I tell you about rushing me?" He murmurs against your skin. "I'm trying to enjoy this."

The challenge hangs in the air and when Rafe gives both of your tits equal attention, he pulls back to admire the sight of your hard nipples wet and glistening. Tilting his gaze up to you, he palms a breast in his hand.

"I'm going to be rough." He announces. "Tell me if it hurts."

Your heart swells from the gesture but you wish he would just do it without caution. It'll be easier to separate your feelings.

Leaning forward to capture a kiss, you breathe into his mouth. "You said use me, right? Then use me."

His eyes darken. "Don't say something you'll regret."

"Then make me regret it."

You're exactly what he needs.

Rafe wastes no more time and strips out of his clothes, his cock springing free from his boxer, all red and swollen. You can't help but feel a pang of pity, remembering how he had to leave this morning without release.

Reaching out to cup him, he snatches your wrists in one hand. "What do you think you're doing?"

You pout. "I'm helping you."

"Did I tell you to?" His words are commanding, shifting to a state that leaves no room for arguments. You swallow hard, feeling a thrill passing through you at his control. "Are you going to be a good girl tonight and do as you're told?" 

You nod.

"I need words, sweetheart."

"Yes." You say desperately and Rafe releases you.

Pushing you back against the mattress, he pulls you to the ledge and removes your shorts and panties. When you're open and dripping for him, he thrusts into you without warning.

"Shit," you let out a cry. Rafe pushes the back of your thighs into a bend, your kneecaps beside your ears, and this new position gives him access to enter deeper.

"Fuck, I needed this." He moans, burying in ecstasy at the way you wrap perfectly around him. "Why would I ever want to go to another fucking party when I can have this every night?"

You can't answer him, too lost in the initial pain that quickly fades into your credence of pleasure. Moans escape you, elevating in volume with each pump. You had to slap both your hands over your mouth to muffle your sounds from waking your sisters.

Rafe recognizes that immediately. That's the only reason he isn't ripping them off right now—to let him hear how he makes you feel, to listen to what he's owed—because he knows where your priorities lie.

"Please don't stop," you whimper through your fingers, which are slowly loosening as you feel the familiar tension tightening in your gut.

"Sweetheart, God can't even pull me away from this pussy right now." Rafe grunts. Your walls flutter around him. "You're about to come, aren't you?"

You nod desperately and Rafe fastens his rhythm, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as you race towards your orgasm with a loud, uninhibited moan that echoes through the room. He had to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.

Panting, you try to catch your breath but Rafe doesn't allow you to rest. Still hungry, still needing, he pulls out and flips you on your stomach, hauling your ass in the air.

Your legs burn from the way he folded you but you still get on your knees. Breathing heavily with your profile pressed against your sheets, you feel his hands flattening against the smooth curve of your cheeks, squeezing.

Rafe takes his time to admire you from behind. So willing, so wanting, he can see you dripping and making a mess on your covers. He chuckles. "Do you need me, baby?"

"I want you," you breathe, "inside, please."

"Inside where?" Rafe grips the base, tapping his tip on your wet folds. "Here?" He mocks, before shifting to the opening of your asshole. "Or here?"

Your breath hitches; the unfamiliar contact sends a shiver down your spine.

"Come on, sweetheart. I need an answer." Rafe taunts, rubbing his slick cock over your hole, anticipation pricking his skin as he sees you contract. "Would this be your first?"

You nod, too disoriented to form words.

He grins. "Are you going to let me fuck your asshole?"

The feeling of your slickness rubbing against your back entrance feels foreign but not unwelcome, sending hot desire to your core. While you struggle to produce an affirmative, Rafe leans forward to grab your throat, pulling you upright.

"Are you going to answer me, Pogue, or am I going to have to do it for you?"

You hate the term Pogue, especially when he uses it, but at this moment, with his hot breath fanning the crook of your neck, you're glad he is. It reminds you—to separate the sex and your heart.

"Whatever you want." You confess.

Rafe drops you back onto the mattress, spitting on your asshole and wets the area with the pad of his thumb. He didn't immediately enter, as you would have predicted, and instead pushed a thick digit through your hole.

You try to relax, shivering through unfamiliar contact.

"Oh, shit, you're so tight for me." He breathes out, sliding in two. "I know you're going to make me come in a second."

He thrusts in-and-out at a slow pace, prepping you, but the lack of friction is causing you to grow impatient and needy. All you want is him. 

"Do it. I'm ready."

Rafe laughs. Not listening. "But this isn't about you, is it?"

He tests you out for a couple more minutes, getting you comfortable and relaxed, and it lures you into a false sense of security. When you find yourself gathering your breath, it shifts into a sudden emptiness of his removal, and before you know it—he pushes the head of his cock in, surprising you with a scream. 

The pressure stings from the initial intrusion, and you wince, gripping onto the sheets and burying your face, but as Rafe gradually fills you, the pain fades into an unlikely pleasure, floating and amplified all over your body.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans. "Am I hurting you?"

You hesitate before nodding. "Yes..."

He stills. "Do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head. "No."

Something ignites deep and carnal within Rafe. The way your body tightens, your legs shaking, and the submission in your voice as he has his way with you. The fact that you want to continue, despite the hurt, because he wants it, drives him insane.

"You're being such a good girl tonight."

The compliment drives your enthusiasm and you wiggle your ass against his cock, feeling him twitch inside of you. It flips his control. Rafe quickly grabs your hips, holding you in place.

He grits out. "Don't do that."

"Why not?" You whine, wanting to feel him deeper, more full. "I'm only trying to help."

A laugh can't help but escape him. At how cockdrunk you are—it carves something in his chest. "God, you really are my personal slut. Doing anything to make me feel good, won't you?"

You don't answer, the call-out warming your cheeks at your own recognition. You said it once during sex, a tease on him, but now you can't help but see how true it is. Now, it feels like an attack on the independent facade you crafted as part of your character.

Rafe wants to hear you. He grips your hips harder, leaving bruises. "Say it."

You shake your head. You don't want him to know how much you're willing to give him. It's too vulnerable.

The lack of silence isn't enough for him.

Rafe rails into you, bottoming out, and you let out a cry at the intensity of his size, at the pressure buried in you, and the pain-pleasure that pulsates through your body. You understand it's your own punishment, but your teeth sinks into your bottom lip, refusing to budge.

He goes again. And again. To the point that he's rage-fucking you, abandoning all restraints and channeling his aggression from his brunch and your disobedience. He wants to know you'll be willing to sacrifice your pride as much as he sacrifices his and he's pissed that you aren't.

A tit-for-tat. 

One of your hands slips between your legs, rubbing your clit in simulation. The euphoria explodes all over, especially with how Rafe fills you from behind, and you moan wildly, causing him to discover the act and pin your wrists behind your back.

"No."

"Rafe." You beg, the ache between your legs is demanding and left without resolution. "Touch me."

He shakes his head with a tsk. "Bad girls don't deserve that."

You have a retort on your lips but it's forgotten the moment he thrusts into you, so deep, it hits a spot you didn't know existed and causes you to roll your eyes to the back of your head.

"Fuck, you're loud." He grumbles, grabbing your panties from the side and bundling them into a tight ball, shoving it into your mouth. You choke on surprise.

"Rafe–"

"Shut. Up." He warns viciously, knowing the increment level of noises you're producing is going to wake your siblings. Another reason why you won't let him in. "And just take it like a good slut."

Something about his command exhilarates you. Bounded and gagged, Rafe is fucking your ass, and all you can think about is you're letting him. You want this. Even with his harsh words.

You had to give him something.

"Like yours." You admit, the muffling of your panties works wonders at stifling your words.

Despite that, he heard it. Rafe pauses for a moment. You aren't giving him everything, but he hears it in the confession.

His command is low. "Say that again."

"I'm yours." You whimper, desperate and submissive. "Please make me come."

His chest warms and his smile is smug. Rafe slides his hand from your hips to your needy cunt, rubbing your swollen nub with tight circles, causing you to buckle and heightening your rising peak.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp with a sharp breath, "oh, god, oh, god."

When you come, your orgasm hits in waves—intense and demanding—ripping out of you despite the gag, and searing in such an elevated state that you slump back onto the bed. Rafe has to abandon everything to grab your middle, holding you up.

He continues to penetrate you from behind until he fills you up, his hot cum leaking out of you. When he pulls out, he takes his fingers and pushes it back in, causing you to contract with a low, lazy moan.

You're out of it. You thought it would be the end but Rafe's appetite is insatiable. He settles back against the headboard of your bed, breathing heavily with a sheen of sweat covering his taut chest, and beckons you.

"Rafe," you groan weakly. "What?"

"Come here."

Despite the throbbing in your muscles, you crawl to him. Settling next to his pelvis, you glance down at his softening cock. "Get me hard again."

Your eyes widen at the instruction. "Are you not tired?"

"Never of you."

You roll your eyes before your fingers gingerly wrap around his shaft, slowly rubbing him out, feeling it harden underneath your touch in a matter of seconds. You gleam in a bit of pride at your ability. You turn back to him, drawn out and exhausted. "Now, what?"

"Ride me."

"What?"

"Come on, sweetheart." He teases, grabbing your waist and moving you to mount over him. Your entrance hovers over his tip, sensitive—so, so sensitive—that you let out a small whine. "You have a promise to keep."

You try. Lowering yourself to let the head in, you immediately pull back, hissing from your overestimation with a fervent shake of your head.

"Rafe." You pant, eyes searching his face. "I can't. I–I think I'm done."

"I'm not." And with that, he thrusts upwards and into you. You collapse onto his cock, sinking down with a cry as tears prick your line of vision from the overwhelming ache of pleasure.

You still move against him, trying to produce some friction, despite your words. Rafe sees how you're working, trying to please him, that he pulls you down to capture your mouth in a tender kiss, drawing out your pain with some pleasantry.

His hand cups the side of your face and you melt into his touch, the act removes all your inhibitions. When he retreats, he whispers against your lips. "Last one, okay, baby? I know you can hold out for me a little longer."

Determination courses through you.

You, with tear-stained cheeks, nods. You straighten your posture, closing your eyes and will yourself through the pain, bouncing on his cock and ignoring the burning sensation in the back of your thighs.

Rafe watches your tits bounce and uses the opportunity to capture the bar lined between your nipples, twisting and pulling them to produce pleasure for you. The additive of his touch pushes your body into overdrive and you feel yourself growing closer once again.

"Please, please, please." You beg, to anyone, anything with a higher power, to guide you through this climax. It's the hardest to peak, and you try to quicken your pace, but your legs give out and you fall flat. Rafe, knowing the familiar twitch of your walls around him, begins to assist and thrusts into you.

"I'm close, baby," he grunts, pumping forward with enough force that pushes both of you through your orgasm and riding out your highs together. You clench so tightly around him, in the aftermath, that he can barely move. 

When you feel the familiar warm pool spilling inside of you, you let him empty it all out, and when you dismount, you fall into the space beside Rafe, leaking and complete fucked out.

Rafe knows your next move is to pull to the ledge, to separate some distance between the two of you, but he doesn't give you the chance before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. His breathing is heavy, his heart rate is fast, and he's worn out from the session.

You don't resist, letting yourself calm down with him. It isn't until he presses a soft kiss to the back of your shoulders and wipes away some of your tears that your stomach flips. "You okay?" He murmurs against your heated skin. 

You want to cry. Not from the sensation but because of how gentle he's treating you after; how it's messing with your feelings and making you think of things you shouldn't.

"I'm fine." You lie, putting your hand over his arms and peeling them off of your body before pulling to the ledge. It feels like a safety tactic nowadays.

Rafe takes it as some kind of rejection and when you move into a sitting position, back pressed against the headboard, you turn to him with a raised brow.

"Do you want to talk about it now?" You ask, doing something, anything to stop this feeling from building inside of your chest and giving you hope. You remind yourself of the transactions; the falsehood of it all.

He doesn't, especially with the distance, but he does it anyway, out of respect for your terms.

"My dad is giving away the case to Sarah."

Your lips part. "What?"

"The one with the marsh and hotel? Yeah."

You pause, taking a few seconds to gather your words. "And you're upset because it's unfair?"

He doesn't answer you immediately. He's not upset about the case itself, there's hundreds of other opportunities for him to handle business like that. Especially now knowing he could. It was the fact that it was our case, because you helped him figure it out. You were his partner.

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I worked hard on it. She doesn't deserve all the credit."

You hum in understanding. "I'm sorry."

Rafe huffs. "I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity, it's compassion." You correct. "You're pissed and you're hurt by something your dad did to you. It's okay to feel that. I'm sorry you have to feel that."

Rafe says nothing, watching you.

His heart aches.

You’re so understanding. So perfect. He doesn’t know how to explain how every time he comes in with this need for you, for you to satisfy him physically, only to come out of it a different man. Someone better. Someone more in-tuned with himself. He never had someone like that in his life. 

He looks at you like you’re a dream but he’s afraid he isn’t yours. 

You decide to move the conversation elsewhere, not wanting to end the night in such a depressive state. "Are you staying the night?" 

“Are you kicking me out?” Rafe asks tightly. 

He wants to understand you, of where you’re ranking him at. He knows he’s going to absolutely lose it if he has to go back to Tannyhill tonight. 

"No." You declare, grabbing the comforter and throwing it over your body. You should really take a shower and clean up, but you're so exhausted right now, all you want is to go to sleep and figure it out tomorrow.

"Does that mean..." He trails off, wanting to hear you say it, wanting you to ask him.

You don't.

"Whatever you want, Rafe." You yawn, rubbing your eyes. "If you stay, you stay. If you leave, just make sure to lock the door behind you."

And with that, you fell asleep.

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[moonstruckme]

the sleepy remus drabble was everything but what about sleepy james x reader just cuddling on the couch with remus and sirius teasing them omfgg

Thanks for requesting lovely! I realized halfway through writing this that I wasn't sure if you meant rem and sirius were there platonically or not, but I hope this is alright <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 870 words

Even when you hear the voices, you pretend you don’t, too comfortable on the plush cushion of James’ hoodie. Opening your eyes isn’t worth the effort. 

“Is this what they do when we’re not home?” Sirius’ voice is low and ripe with faux outrage.

James hushes him, so he’s awake apparently. His thumb moves over your tummy, big hand tucked into the warmth between your sweatshirt and your bare skin. “You’ll wake her,” he says, voice still sticky with sleep.

“She ought to be awake, it’s five in the afternoon!” 

Remus’ voice is softer, skeptical. “I don’t see how either of you expect to sleep through the night if you nap like this during the day.���

“We manage,” James yawns. 

You hear Sirius huff. If the muscles in your face were more active you think you’d smile. “I thought we were going to Marlene’s thing tonight,” he complains. 

“Still planning on it.” James’ palm splays over your middle, warm and safe. “We’re resting up.” 

“This is how you prepare for Friday nights now? Fuck, we must be getting old.” 

You whine at his volume, nuzzling your face into James’ chest. 

“Oh, so she is awake. What, sweet thing, you don’t feel like saying hi?” 

This time James coos at your protesting sound. His hand slips from beneath your sweatshirt to wrap around your shoulders, shielding you from your pestering boyfriend. 

“Oh, let’s have a bit of sympathy,” Remus says, sounding amused, “she’s had a long, hard day of napping. She deserves a bit of rest.” 

You want to remind him it’s your day off, but speaking feels like giving into wakefulness, and that is something you are not inclined to do. Instead, you try to wriggle beneath the blanket halfway up James’ torso, curling in on yourself like a roly poly. He helps you out, pulling it up to cover your head and draping an arm over your balled-up form. 

“It’s her day off,” he says, your hero. “Why shouldn’t she get to rest?” 

“That’s fair enough,” Remus allows, “but why were you sleeping?”

James hesitates. “Well, I didn’t have anything to do after training and she…she lured me in.” 

It’s true. James after rugby training is like Remus after he spends all day reading; he’s all worn out and pliable, and you’d practically only had to open your arms for him to fall right into them and then a cuddle on the couch had turned into a two-hour nap. Terribly unfortunate. Certainly not your plan all along. 

You decide it’s your turn to protect James from the others, wriggling up on his chest and covering his head with the blanket. You see his smile through half-lidded eyes, and outside of your little cave, Remus chuckles. 

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” 

“I think we should get in bed and have a cuddle they’re not invited to,” says Sirius. “See how they like it.” 

“I’m not sure we can leave them in good conscience.” The sound of Remus' smile makes you smile, your cheek smushing into James’ chest. “She’s just taken Jamie. If we let her go on like this, she’ll have them both sleeping ‘til tomorrow.” 

That actually sounds rather appealing. 

“They’re jealous of us,” James whispers. You hum your agreement, and he kisses the crown of your head. 

“We could go to all their favorite things,” Sirius proposes. “Make them remember the benefits of leaving the couch.” 

“Like what? Watch sports?” 

“And eat pastries. She loves a sweet.” 

“Mm, yeah. I could fancy a sweet.” 

“From the shop on sixth? They should still be open, yeah?” 

“Stay strong, angel,” James whispers. “Don’t let them break you.” 

“They ought to be. Oh, and the pub down that way will be showing the Manchester match tonight. We could stop and see that.” 

“Sick and twisted!” James throws the blanket off, uncovering you in the process. “You never watch football with me.” 

“I have,” Remus hedges, “that one time.” 

“Last year! And you were reading your book on the other side of the pillow!” 

He turns sheepish. “Didn’t realize you’d noticed that.” 

“But now you’re going to watch it just to spite me?” 

“No,” Sirius admits. “We were never going to watch football, Jamie, sorry.” James deflates, and you squeeze him tight around the middle in a show of solidarity. 

“But we can go by the bakery on our way to Marlene’s thing,” Remus says, adding when you perk up, “if we leave soon enough. They make those danishes you like on Fridays, don’t they?” 

“Seriously?” you ask, your voice croaky and hopeful. 

“That’s me, babe,” Sirius teases, “and I’m down to stop by, but only if I get what I’m owed.” At your blank look, he raises a dark brow. “My welcome home kiss?” 

Oh. “You’re gonna have to come down here,” you mumble. He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but obliges you, bending at the waist to take your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours firmly. He does the same to James once you’re done, straightening with a satisfied look on his face. 

“Appeased?” Remus asks placidly. 

“Yes,” Sirius answers, “the evening may now continue. Up, you two. We’ve got places to be.” 

[hotchfiles]

— help me hold onto you • aaron hotchner

fem!reader, unprotected vaginal sex, a bit of angst.

he knew he would be in trouble whenever he turned those keys. what he wasn’t expecting was how big the trouble would be. he had no idea he would open the door to three bags full of clothes and other things he left at your place as the months passed, waiting for him.

“darling? what–what are these?” he asks even though he knows the answer, hoping you want to at least talk about it before making any harsh decisions. you’ve been in a relationship for almost a year now and it works. it always worked.

normally you wouldn’t drink before an argument, still when he gets to the kitchen he sees you calmly sipping on a tall glass of wine, fingers tapping on the table, hair up, face clean but red, you were in your pajamas already, nothing like you probably looked hours before.

“what’s the only thing i asked of you, aaron?” you don’t move, don’t glance up at him, eyes focused solely on how the purplish red liquid moved in your glass, taking a big sip right after.

aaron sighs in frustration, he didn’t want this to become a fight. he was so tired. “i know, i’m sorry–”

“answer the question, please.”

“don’t make promises i can’t keep.” he takes his tie off quickly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the fabric surrounding his neck. that’s why your relationship worked, you knew he was busy and his schedule was unpredictable, so very early on you accepted it as it was, saying you wouldn’t be mad at him as long as he didn’t break any promises. if you’re not sure, don’t promise me you will be able to make it.

first months he wouldn’t promise you anything, too afraid to break it, to disappoint you.

he watches as you take the wine in a mouthful and refills the glass, the bottle now empty and starts getting frustrated, you’re a loud drunk and you’re surely already getting tipsy.

this was the first time he slipped up, it didn’t need to be such a big deal, it didn’t avail to having his things right at the door as if he was getting kicked out. all the other times he promised he could take time off, he did it. just–teens were getting kidnapped, the team needed him.

“we saved two girls today.” low blow. but it was true, he wasn’t back in time because of that, he got on the jet instead of staying back to do that. to save two thirteen year old girls. not some futile reason. it had to count for something.

“i’m proud of you for that, aaron. are you proud of me? for the promotion we were supposed to celebrate with my boss? or are our accomplishments only worth it when it’s about saving someone?” you raise your voice only slightly, the alcohol from the sweet wine getting to you slowly and then all at once.

you always tried your best to keep your voice down when arguing with him, simply because he never raised his, and it could be an endearing feature if it didn’t look like he did it to look like the rational one, the right one.

“that’s not what i said–”

“i know what you said. you want to make the fact you let me down okay because you did a wonderful thing someplace else. that’s not how it works.” you open the second bottle of wine of the night, feeling his eyes on your back. “i want you to leave.”

“you know this is ridiculous, you’re acting like a child.” sore spot. you were a few years younger and that had never been a problem. but he couldn’t go back now, he could see the anger darkening your eyes, your knuckles turning white by the strength you’re using to grip on the edge of the table.

“how am i a child?” you begin slowly and keeping your voice down, you get up finally from the chair you had been sitting, facing him directly, his instincts make him try to touch your arms, but you dodge it quickly. “we had an agreement. you broke it. am i a child for not giving you permission to hurt me again?”

he knows you’re about to snap, your chest coming up and down in rapid breaths, and he doesn’t feel particularly in the right, he knows he screwed up and he’s sorry, but your reaction is out of proportion to him, an exaggeration made to make him feel more guilty than he already does. “i said you’re acting like a child. the one time things don’t go your way and you’re packing me out?” aaron almost feels the sharpness of a slap but he’s quick enough to grab your wrist. “see? proving my point.”

“how many times do i have to accept you screwing up so i can be seen as mature?” you yank your arm out of his grip and go back to your drink, “same times as haley? how many times did she forgive you so you could go around and do it all again?”

lower blow.

hotch feels it right in his core and he’s angry at you for bringing up but more so angry at himself because you were right. still, it is anger nonetheless that guides his next actions, quickly and firmly walking up to you, caging you against the table in sudden movements.

your breath hitches from the surprise, and your attempt to move is stopped by his roughed hands on your chin, firm but never close to hurting. “i’m not leaving.” you wince, not in fear of him, but of how easy he can make your mind go blank when he’s that close.

his eyes go from your eyes to your lips, he notices your failed attempt to conceal the way you licked your lips, he glances at your chest, heavy breathing under your thin pajama shirt, nipples hardening against the fabric.

damn you for choosing wine.

hotch reads your mind almost, but his smirk doesn’t last too long displayed on his lips, your hands pulling him by the neck, a low groan followed by a “fuck this” leaving your wine tasting lips just mere seconds before gluing to his.

eager to get your forgiveness, he is quick to follow your lead, both hands sneaking under your clothes, one down the waistband of your shorts, grabbing hard on the flesh of your ass, the other drawing soft circles on your nipple.

you melt into the kiss, his lips, his hands, his scent, him. and you have no time to feel bad about it, pulled up to sit on the table, legs around his waist, you can feel how hard he is against your wetness.

a pained whimper leaves his lips when you use the new position to grind onto him, needing something, anything against your clit at this point.

aaron sinks his teeth into your bottom lip to get your full attention, earning a loud moan in response, his hands travel your thighs and you pull his shirt out his pants so you can feel his skin under your fingertips, not bothering to unbutton them and working with what you got under it.

his lips travel your neck and your collarbone, “i love you, so, so much”. his declaration comes in between kisses and the sucking of your skin, “please don’t make me leave after this.” it comes in a whisper now, but he doesn’t stop, pushing your shorts down and sliding it down till it drops to the floor with your help.

“just shut up and take your pants off.”

“you know i can only do one of those.” it makes you laugh and you sink your nails to the bit of fat on his side, the tiniest bit of annoyance at how easy he had you in the palm of his hand and how he didn’t even seem to know it truly.

on the edge of the table sliding his hard cock into your folds was an easy feat, pants, shoes and his boxers long gone, his socks stayed on almost making him lose balance as he feels just how wet you are. he drops his head, forehead on your shoulder

“fuck—oh my god, you are so wet, you’re always so wet for me.” it isn’t arrogant, it’s appreciative almost, you move his head so you can look at him, hot, sweaty already, cheeks so red as his eyes were glassy, the mix of lust and love and regret clear in his dark caramel irises.

you kiss him once more, sweet, forgiving and he takes this as his sign to continue, pushing you down the table, hotch holds your thighs for support, plunging his cock into your wet cunt with ease, bottoming out at the first thrust. you enjoyed the stretching pain and you never had the patience to wait.

lower lips between your teeth, you slide one of your hands to your clit, two fingers working your arousal, quickly replaced by aaron’s calloused fingers. you arch your back and moan loudly, “fuck, yes, and move.”

it feels like an order and for hotch it is one, he is delighted to oblige, maintaining the same finger moves on your clit and beginning to fuck your pussy, strong, firm and precise at first.

“honey, fuck—please…” his begging is meant to warn you that if you keep clenching around him he won’t be able to control himself, you almost don’t listen, fingers working on your own nipples enjoying the high he is always able to get you in.

“aaron—i’m… fuck, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

the praising, the guidance, the reassurance, it makes the moans leaving his lips seem like whining, he enjoys it too much.

“yeah? like this?” the way your hands try to grab him is enough answer to him, along with how tight your pussy is throbbing against him, you’re almost there, he can feel it.

his movements on your clit get sloppier, the sight and sound of your wetness against his digits making him go insane. your back arches once more and your whole body begin to squirm, the tight coil in your lower belly finally ripping, “yes, fuck—“ you’re breathless, weak, but you still have it in you to edge him in, “aaron, baby, cum for me, please.”

he would be crazy to do anything but, so quickly you ask him and his hands are hoisting both your legs over his shoulders, getting a new, deeper position, it doesn’t take long for you to feel him filling you up, “i can’t live without you, you’re so, so good for me” his lasts broken words before letting himself go.

you don’t move and neither does he, his dick softening inside you, his hands caging you in the table and his head dropped to his chest, both just trying to recover.

“aaron?”

“yes, sweetheart?”

“you can stay.” he looks at you with nothing but love and happiness and gratitude, “but if you screw up again do not try fucking me into forgiving you, i’ll chop your dick off.”

“you like it too much to do that.” his grin is sincere, feeling finally free to joke around you, he gets out of you and you whine at the loss. “see?”

“bite me.”

“gladly.”

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve x fem!reader exes to lovers

Chapter Four -

Honey, on your knees when you look at me

The consequences of your actions hang heavy around you neck when you wake up, so you go to the shop to tell Steve this is definitely not what he thinks it is.

warnings: 18+ slight angst, confused feelings, semi public smut, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem receiving), body worship, praise kink, unprotected p in v smut, cream pie, fluff.

wc: 10k

authors note: This chapter has been almost two months in the making between life and writers block, I didn’t think I would be here. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages about this story and about him because of you, I never gave up writing this series I was so excited about. beta’d by: @superblysubpar

series masterlist | series playlist

songs from the playlist that inspired this chapter: Unravel Me, If You Think I’m Pretty, Please Don’t Fall In Love With Me, Make Up, Eastside, Holy.

Streams of shining golden yellow make your lids still heavy with sleep flutter, lashes tickling the tops of your puffy cheeks as you surrender to the sun’s wishes to wake you up. The orange shag carpet in Robin’s living room slowly comes into focus, along with the rest of your surroundings as the ends of your palms rub the rest of the night from your eyes. Stretching your legs, they’re met with warmth like the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds still lingering on the cushions next to you. 

¨Shit.¨ 

Your muscles freeze, threatening to cramp in your calf as the night floods back into your memories. How his plush pink lips slotted between yours like they should never be anywhere else, or how they made your back arch, kissing a messy path down your neck, perfect teeth nipping, threatening to bruise your delicate skin that lights up under his touch. 

A shaky breath pushes out of your lungs as you shimmy your body deeper into the couch, fingers finding their way to your chest where you swear you can still feel his smile pressed into your skin, the tips of them hitting something smooth and warm. 

A metal chain.

The weight of it around your neck finally registers through the sleepy fog that lifts from your brain. Looking down the slope of your nose, you nearly go cross-eyed when you’re met with the rich yellow gold that matches the sun, especially because It looks just like the one that belongs to Steve Harrington. 

“No, no, no, no.”

The realization that it is in fact, Steve Harrington’s kicks in just like your feet in a silent fit, the thin throw he must’ve put on top of you before he left falling to the ground. You remember his plea for a date, and it has panic curling deep in your gut, the consequences of your actions arriving first thing in the morning before you’ve even had any coffee. 

There’s a little bit of pride that hides in a small space in your chest that you didn’t just fold and say yes. Something you would have done in high school when he was giving you much less. Still, you didn’t say no. You were just prolonging the inevitable matter of letting him down right? It’s the self-respecting thing, it’s what you told yourself you’d always do. 

Say no.

You twist the metal between your fingers, your eyes finding the dust particles that seem to float between the plastic of Robin’s blinds. There’s an ache in your heart at the fresh reminder of what it feels like to be held in his arms, something he rarely did when you were dating, at least not if it wasn’t the dead of night. The sleepovers at his big empty house were your favorite until you realized how sad it was. All his whispered secrets and deep confessions that he only shared when you were lit by the moonlight - the kind that hid all the stars in the sky and that boy he was trying to hide. The ones that kept you hanging onto hope until the last bit of rope tethering you to him, cut your skin. Those were the nights that really made you have to run. 

You’re not sure if you could survive it again, and the end of August is only a distant friend. Pushing yourself off the couch, your eyes catch the bright bold numbers on the microwave that read 9:45 AM and you try to remember all the reasons you left in the first place. Not the way he looked at you last night in the kitchen making your best friend’s favorite snack. 

Your flip-flops clack loudly against the hot pavement, the determination in your walk up to the shop threatening to set the street ablaze. The spaghetti strap sundress you threw on in a rush trying to be careful not to wake up Robin does very little to help cool you or your mood down when you’re met with the mugginess of the Midwest. 

Steve’s chain bounces against your chest with each step, the gold shimmering against the sunlight in a pretty reminder that you still haven’t taken it off yet. One that you choose to ignore in your huff trying to think of all the mean things he's done and not the way he begged you to make it right.

Reaching the end of the block, you notice Eddie’s van is missing from the parking lot, leaving only Steve’s BMW against the side of the shop. It stops you dead in your tracks because the buffer that would stop you from making the same mistake isn’t there. Your proven lack of self-control only a few weeks into the summer has your confidence waver with nerves that try and get the best of you, but with a deep breath, you force your feet to keep moving.

Steve’s side of the garage is the only one open, the faded green metal door at half-mast to keep some of the sun away. Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel bleeds out of the open space, bouncing and echoing off the cars inside, waking up the butterflies and sending them soaring. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you try not to imagine the way he’s probably singing along, or that curl that won’t stay in place, falling over his forehead as he bobs his head to the beat.

Why is Eddie not here? 

You see his black work boots first, then the legs that were intertwined with yours just a few hours ago, now adorned by blue coveralls. Walking across the grease-stained cement, he comes to an abrupt stop, and for a second you think maybe he sees you, heart thumping wildly in your chest until he shuffles back a few steps before continuing forward. 

He was dancing and you hate the way the corners of your mouth twitch because of it.

The smell of oil is bittersweet hitting your nose as you stop in front of the opening, silently working up the courage to duck under the door. Steve doesn’t notice your sneaky entrance from where he stands at his workbench with his back facing you, completely lost in whatever’s on the paper he’s holding in black-stained hands. It gives you the few minutes you need to get your thoughts together as he bops his head to the music that’s loud enough to hide you a little bit longer. 

Your gaze lands on Eddie’s empty office, successfully diminishing the last bit of hope you clung onto that maybe he just didn’t drive today, before your eyes catch the burnt orange of your car tucked away in the corner. A cherry red Corvette sits parked in front of it, making your face sour at the instant comparison. It outshines the car you scraped up enough money to get after moving to the city, sparking the kind of anger you’d been scrambling to cling onto walking up here. Maybe if your car hadn’t broken down, you wouldn’t have kissed Steve Harrington, and then maybe you wouldn’t be standing here secretly wanting to do it again. 

Clinging to that notion with everything you have, you take a deep breath, straightening your posture before clearing your throat, letting him know he wasn’t by himself anymore.

”The music’s a little loud don’t you think?” 

The pleased grin that spreads wide across your face can’t be stopped when the sound of your voice makes him jump with a ‘Jesus Christ’ so loud you can hear it over the music, crumbling the paper in his hands.

Point one - you.

Your victory is short-lived the moment Steve turns around with his ever changing brown eyes that are somehow warmer in the daylight, reflecting the flecks of green that shine and light up even more at the realization that it’s you and not some random intruder. He runs those long fingers through his hair, trying to tame the mess on top of his head that you made, while his heavy stare fixates on the chain still hanging off your neck. Right where he left it.

Leaning over to turn the volume down on his boombox, he doesn’t break eye contact, giving you that crooked smile that makes your heart skip a beat pushing up the two moles on his cheek. Raising his hands in a silent apology, you try not to think about how big they look or the way they grabbed at your hips last night. It's a fruitless effort, so you try to make up for it with a sassy tongue.

”Wow, I could have easily stolen one of these cars if I had wanted to.” 

Crossing your arms, you suck at your teeth, deciding that standing right where you are is the best move, especially when you see the sweat that glistens, beading off of his tan skin, curling the coarse hairs on his chest that’s hardly hidden by the sheer white of his tank top. At least his coveralls are fully on this time.

“Maybe I should report you to Eddie.”

“Most of the cars in here don’t run,” Steve tuts, dark eyes roaming over your curves hugged tight by the soft cotton of your dress unashamed before meeting your narrowed gaze, “You of all people should know that.”

“Sounds like maybe you’re just bad at your job.” 

You ignore the uncontrollable press of your thighs that only gets worse the more his smile widens with your attitude, reading your body language like his favorite book.

“Did you come here just to pick a fight?” Steve sighs, carding another hand through his hair, threatening to punch the air out of your lungs when he looks up at you through his lashes “Or do you just want another kiss?”

It’s impossible to sound out the word ‘no’ even though it’s just two letters because watching him lick his full bottom lip before tugging it between his perfect teeth makes you wish it was yours instead.  

“Is that it baby?” Steve taunts, pushing himself off the work bench and tossing the crumbled paper aside.

”No,” you finally manage to get out, but the venom you had less than twenty-four hours ago is gone, and it barely stings when you try to deny with a jut of your chin and a quieter than intended, “That’s not why I’m here.”

The little bit of self-control you’ve been hanging onto with an iron grip starts to slip from in between your fingers with each heavy thud of his boots that bring you closer to your demise as he closes the gap.

”Are you sure?” He asks with a glint in the darkening russet of his eyes that land on the gold wrapped around your neck again, close enough now to smell last night's leftover cologne.

“A-absolutely,” you stutter, taking a few steps back, the clack of your flip flops echoing, making you wince with embarrassment as you try to counteract his advances only for your back to hit the cool metal of a pickup truck. 

”Hmmm, I know what it must be then,” he hums, a faint hint of smirk twisting the corners of his full lips, big boots stopping with a scuff on the cement floor right in front of your pink painted toes. 

Reaching up, his bold fingertips trace the smooth edges of his chain, rough calluses tickling your collar bone daring to explore a little more. The quick rising of your chest spurs him on as he tries to hold his composure, teasing the dip of your breasts, he curls his finger around the metal, lifting the chain a little before letting it fall back into place. Mischief twinkles in his stare that matches the same color staining his hands.

“You must be here to tell me when you’ll be ready for our date later tonight, huh baby?”

It takes your brain a second to catch up, the freckles that spread across his cheeks like wildfire in the light distracting you from this close.

“The opposite actually,” clearing your throat, you try to hide the way your tongue dries when he looks at you like this, “I’m here to say that whatever happened last night doesn’t change anything.” 

The corners of his lips twitch, his gaze getting lost in the details of your features like you weren’t denying him, finally giving you the fuel you needed to make your blood simmer, the anger you thought you’d lost forever buzzing under your heated skin.

“So!”  You snap your fingers in his face, interrupting whatever daydream he was getting lost in, getting the glare you were searching for, “You better get that out of your head right now. We’re not going on a date.” 

Your words finally bite with a tone that almost seems final and for a minute it starts to feel like you have a semblance of your self-control back. Holding your head up high, you try to really end whatever started on your best friend's couch last night. 

“We can be friendly for Robin’s sake, but it’s never going to happen again. I’m not your girl, Harrington.”

Steve rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something you can’t quite put your finger on flashing behind the gold in his eyes. Leaning forward, his hand finds the chipped teal paint of the truck behind you. Caging you in, the spice of his cologne overwhelms you as it mixes with the heat in the garage, and the sweat glistening on his tan skin. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheeks that burn like they’re being licked by a flame, thighs pressing harshly under your dress as you try not to let his gaze swallow you whole. 

“If that’s how you really feel, fine.” He says cooly, seemingly unphased and it makes your blood boil more. “I’ll take my chain back now then.”

 “No.”

“No?” He snorts incredulously at your refusal, watching the way your fingers come up to play with it. Taunting him.

”I don’t even know why you put it on me in the first place,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes, channeling his nonchalance before ducking under his arm, your escape in sight.

You refuse to look back at him making a beeline to the open garage door, heart thumping wildly in your chest as you do your best not to give away the attachment you have to the weight of it around your neck that you really aren’t ready to unpack yet.

”I left it!” Steve yells hot on your heels, the cracks in his confident demeanor starting to show, “I left it so you didn’t think I just disappeared on you this morning because I personally have zero regrets about what happened last night.”

The sarcastic ‘HA!’ you let out is almost comical, picking up your pace with an extra sway to your hips because you know he’s staring.

”How about this, Steve?” You antagonize, turning around and walking backward with a smug grin that mirrors his from before, “I’ll think about it.”

Steve doesn’t take the bait, instead, he side-steps quickly to smash the round red button on the wall with a deadpan face. Letting the rumble of the garage door coming to life do all the talking for him.

”Are you serious?!“ You shriek, watching it close faster than your feet can carry you, even contemplating a tuck and roll when you see the sunlight and any chance you have at not going back on your promise start to disappear behind it.

“It’s simple honey,” he sighs with an irritated edge, “Give me my chain and I’ll open her back up so you can go run back to Robin’s and pretend like last night never happened. Just the way you want, right?”

”This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Let me out asshole!” 

A new level of stubbornness that you never thought you could reach locks you in place, facing him with arms crossed tight over your chest.

”I’m ridiculous?” Steve chuckles darkly, the steel toe of his boots echoing louder now that you’re sealed inside as he walks towards you, “Look at yourself.”

”What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap despite the way your teeth gnaw nervously on your bottom lip, greedy eyes roaming his tall frame as your body betrays you for what feels like the hundredth time today when he steps into your space again.

“I know you enjoyed drama club in high school, but you’ve always been a terrible actress.” 

“And you’ve always had way more confidence than you should.” 

Steve’s nostrils flare, his gaze threatening to set you on fire.

”I’m going to get back to work, you’re free to go whenever you give me my necklace back. I’m getting paid to be here all day baby, you aren’t, so just know that I’ve got time.” He holds your stare for a second longer, sucking at his teeth before turning around. Testing you.

“Come take it off me then, Harrington, if you want it so bad.”  

Two can play that game.

He stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing at the implication of your words, turning his head to the side, he gives you a perfect view of his sharp jawline. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, with a tone sharp enough to make your stomach flip.

“I said,” your shoulders square with a defiance that matches your glare, acting as if you aren’t sealing your fate with the next four words, “Come and get it.”

Steve’s long strides close the distance faster than you can comprehend. A big hand grabs at your hip, grease-stained fingers digging into your curves, while the other cups the side of your face, surely leaving a mark. He's getting what he really wants.

Gasping into his mouth, the force of his kiss sends a shudder through the garage door when your back slams against it. Lost in the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, you barely notice. Your fingers weave through the thick locks of his hair at the nape of his neck as if they were always meant to be there. A harsh tug on the silky strands earns you a groan that's deeper than you remember, and you immediately want to hear it again.

The clash for dominance ignites as your tongues collide clumsily, teeth grazing and noses pressing into each other’s cheeks. His grip tightens on your hip in a warning before his hand trails down to where the bottom hem of your dress rests at the top of your thigh. Pushing up the thin fabric, the blunt tips of his nails skim across your soft skin, goosebumps pebbling despite the heat.

His fingers tease the edge of your panties, tracing the curve where they meet your ass, stealing your whine with a cocky grin that he kisses into your lips. He lingers just long enough to turn you needy before he hooks your knee around his waist, getting the instant roll of your hips and more of your little noises that will haunt his every waking thought after this. 

“Steve,” you breathe, tugging your swollen bottom lip between your teeth while he starts kissing a slow, agonizing path down your jaw, tickling you with the stubble on his cheek.

He hums in between kisses, nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear, he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue before he starts to suck–hard. Your moan bounces off the metal and concrete that surround you, echoing in your ears while your greedy fingers tug even harder at his roots. His grip on you tightens when you start to squirm as his efforts to mark what’s his intensify, leaving a bruise you’ll have to explain to Robin later.

”Yeah?” He mumbles against your heated skin, the tip of his nose running along your pulse point, a saccharine smile pressing into the curve of your neck where his chain still rests.

“Shut up,” you manage to get out, despite Steve leaving open-mouthed kisses on the swell of your breasts, palming roughly at the dough of your ass, encouraging another rock of your hips.

“You're always so mean to me, honey,” Steve sighs, nipping at the supple skin, before meeting your poor attempt at a glare from under the thick hood of his lashes.

”Yeah? And? What are you gonna do about it?” You bite, but it doesn’t sting the way you want it to, not with the way your chest heaves in anticipation of his next move.

Steve flips you around so quickly that the change in position has you gasping, your palms meeting the warm metal of the garage door that bakes in the sun outside. Heavy work boots push your legs apart, while hot breath that rivals the summer dances across the nape of your neck. He presses himself into you, letting you feel just how hard you really have him, the tip of his nose brushing along the shell of your ear. Butterflies multiply, tickling your rib cage just like your lashes that kiss the tops of your cheeks.

“I think it's pretty obvious what I want to do,” he whispers against your neck, lips ghosting across the freshly formed bruise, “The real question is…”

The backs of his fingers brush along the sides of your breasts, goosebumps pebbling across your skin. His big hands follow the curve of your waist, smoothing down to the tops of your thighs. Taking his time, he curls them under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to rest on top of your hips, still giving you the chance to stop him. One you don’t take.

“Are you gonna let me?” His words are gruff coming out next to your ear, your walls fluttering around nothing because of it.

The humid air doesn’t help your sticky thighs that only get worse as two of his calloused fingers trace agonizingly slow along the waistband of the only fabric separating you now. Peppering soft kisses to all the sensitive spots that make your skin come alive, his teeth nip playfully at your earlobe, fireworks lighting up in the sky behind your eyes when he takes it into the heat of his mouth. The sensation has you mewling, jaw going slack as your toes curl into the foam of your flip flops from a feeling only Steve Harrington can give.

”I could be so nice to you, baby,” he whispers, letting you go with a pop, his fingers daring to go lower than just teasing, smirking against your cheek at the gasp you give when he drags them through your slick folds, wrapping your hands around his wrist for support, your hips chase him for more. “Don’t you want that?”

Your pride has your teeth biting into your bottom lip. Refusing to answer his question loaded with too many double meanings for your head to wrap around right now, but you still spread yourself wider for him, because the last thing you want him to do is stop.

“Gonna make me earn it, huh?” He breathes, biting back his groan at how you start dripping down his hand, “That’s okay. I’ll show you I’m worthy.”

His promise is enough to finally draw out the moan you’ve been fighting, the sound making him kick up in his coveralls, while the movements of his wrist become more pointed. Your head lulls back against his broad shoulder, and his cologne smells even better with the way sweat starts to drip from his pores. Your eyes are needy, meeting the black coffee of his and you know it, especially at the furrow of his brows when he looks at you completely transfixed.

“God, I almost forgot how soft you are. How fucking wet you get for me.” He whispers between gritted teeth, awestruck at the feeling of your silk walls begging him for more, daring him to explore, “Bet you taste even sweeter than I remember too.”

Leaning down, he runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours, the mint that still lingers on his breath tickling your lips. Your hips roll with the rhythm of his wrist, warmth spreading across your cheeks as the sounds of just how wet you are echo in the big space. Too close to falling apart all over his fingers to care, the blunt ends of your nails dig half-crescent moons into his wrist chasing it.

“Baby, are you gonna come already? I’ve barely touched you.” 

His words mock you despite the sugary sweetness they drip with, every swipe against your bundle of nerves becoming unrelenting, determined even. But it’s still enough for you to take the bait and force your eyes open, meeting his hungry stare dead on and say:

”Y- you wish it was that easy.”

Amusement dances across the hard lines of his face, his dark gaze narrowing before something between a laugh and a growl rumbles deep from his chest. The motions of his wrist come to a halt, and it takes everything inside of you not to cry in protest. Pulling his hand from your soaked panties, his wet fingers dig into your hips spinning you around, quick strides pushing you to the corvette that started your spiral. 

“What are you doing?!” You squeal, your butt hitting the cherry-red metal of the hood that sticks to your sweat-slicked skin.

He just grins, the pearly whites of his teeth showing as grease-stained hands spread your knees apart enough for him to step between, leaving raven fingerprints in their wake before grabbing at your chin, he forces you to look at him.

“Need you to keep your eyes on me, honey, and remember what you just said.” He pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb, watching it pop back into place. 

Letting go of your chin, he holds your stare, fingers ghosting across the tops of your thighs as he drops to his knees like someone praying to a god. Hooking his arms under your bent legs, he tugs you to the end of the hood with a squeak. Spread wide for him to see, your calves rest on top of his shoulders that you hate to admit you wish you could see. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose traces the wet path of your covered folds, breathing you in like the sweetest summer breeze.

When his big eyes meet yours from between your thighs, just begging you to get lost in them like you used to, it’s almost enough for you to forget the game you’re both supposed to be playing. There’s a softness that lingers inside melting caramel that manages to shine through the black that overpowers it, and you wonder if he can hear the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest. 

His touch is gentle now, long fingers curling around the waistband of your underwear, silently asking you for permission to cross the line that deep down you know there’s no going back from. Nodding your head with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you even help him, lifting your legs when he pulls them from around your ankles.

Steve stuffs the satin in his pocket ignoring the way you tell him that you want them back. His pink tongue that’s seconds away from being your undoing wets his lips, jaw going tight at the sight in front of him. Roses bloom on his tan cheeks, and he can’t help but run a hand through his hair, the reality setting in that he really has you like this. He looks completely wrecked. At least it isn’t just you.

“Fuck.” He breathes, the blunt ends of his nails digging into the dough of your thighs, shuffling himself even closer, his eyes glaze over. 

Goosebumps pebble across your buzzing skin, your velvet walls fluttering around nothing as you lose the witty response you had saved on the tip of your tongue, managing just a quiet, “I thought you were supposed to show me somethin’?” 

His lips twitch so close to where you need him most that you can almost feel the curve of them, your knees bending just a little more, urging him on by his shoulders.

“So impatient,” he tsks, the vibrations of his words only making it worse, “My girl needs me huh? She missed me as much as I missed her didn’t she?”

“Steve - shut uhhhhohmygod!”

His mouth latches onto your cunt like he’s thirsty for everything you’re offering him, collecting your dripping honey that’s sweet on his tongue. Running a broad stripe up your folds, his grip on your thighs tightens when you start to squirm, holding you in place, as he swirls messy circles on your bundle of nerves before sucking it hard enough for your head to fall back against the car. Your fingers bury themselves into the sweaty silk of his hair, pulling harshly at the roots, earning the kind of grunt that has you whimpering, dripping down the stubble on his chin as your hips buck up to meet him.

Letting you go with a loud pop, he huffs out a dark laugh at your whine, hardly giving you time to recover before pulling you even further down the hood of the car, till your ass hangs off the edge. The tip of his nose brushes against your sensitive clit while his tongue begins to tease your entrance that quivers just for him. The new angle has you practically sitting on his face, and before you have a chance to overthink it he slowly starts to work you open with his greedy mouth.

”Holy shit I -“ Your eyelids droop, jaw going slack as he starts to move side to side, licking into you like you’re the sweetest prize. His nose adds just the right amount of pressure while he eats you up like a man starved, “You’re gonna - fuck - Steve!”

His hands move from your thighs to the soft fat of your ass, encouraging your hips more, and if you weren’t so far gone, you’d be scared you’re suffocating him. You dare to look down at the scene between your legs, and it’s almost enough to have you cumming all over his face. His pitch-black eyes gaze up at you enamored, completely lost and still hungry because after all these years it’s still not enough. He moans into your folds when you meet his half-lidded stare, the sensation vibrating in all the right places, making your legs shake.

The feeling of your walls pulsing tight around his tongue, knowing how close you are already has him twitching painfully hard in his coveralls. It’s enough to ignore the discomfort of his knees, doubling down on the movements of his jaw. His name bounces off the metal and concrete, while the roll of your hips gets more and more aggressive because it feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, the tip of his tongue reaching the spot that makes you gasp.

“Right there, shit, right there, right there, I’m gonna, oh my god I’m gonna cum!”

Your scream is silent, body going rigid, giving into him already. The muscles in your legs tense, as your thighs squeeze tight around his head while your pussy tries to push him out but he only doubles down with a completely relentless tongue. He moans loud enough inside you to hear through the ringing in your ears, your fingers curling harshly in his thick locks, back hitting the metal of the hood again.

He ignores the first few pushes against his forehead when his kitten licks become too much before he finally listens. Sticky legs fall open releasing him from a trap he never asked to escape from, his shiny wet lips leaving kisses along your shaking thighs, tickling the supple skin with the stubble on his jaw. You feel his tongue dart out to collect everything he missed, earning the kind of sweet noises he can’t wait to hear all summer long. 

Steve stands up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and you try to be mad at his smug grin but your body can’t help its reaction to the way he struggles against his coveralls. The hard outline of dick reminds you of the stretch that you know will ruin you for anyone else, spent walls fluttering despite yourself. 

”Now what was that you were saying a few minutes ago, pretty girl?” Leaning down, his palms find a new home on either side of your head. 

The whites of his teeth shine at the eyeroll you find enough energy to give him, even with your legs wrapped around his waist. His nose nudges the tip of yours, the playful glint in his eyes changes into something lovesick and it brings the ache in your chest back because you know it’s going to hurt even worse walking away again. 

“Hey, what’s going on up there?” He questions, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he searches your face for answers.

You don’t give him one, pushing aside the worry for when you lay awake in the middle of the night. Instead, you let your fingers wrap themselves in the cotton of his tank top, pulling him to your lips that silently beg him to help you forget. He meets you with an eager mouth, and a big hand that comes up to rest on your flushed cheek. The pad of his thumb traces the high bone while his tongue asks you for permission for more. 

Your thighs lock tighter around his waist, granting him the access he wants, tasting yourself all over him. Shaking fingers find the zipper of his jumper, tugging down the metal, he helps your shimmy off his sleeves. The freckles that dot his shoulders like the night sky beg you to open your eyes as the top of his coveralls fall to his sides, the rock of his hips making you say his name like it’s the sweetest thing. 

“Want you,” you whisper with a nip at his bottom lip, ankles crossing at the two dips you know are on his lower back.

”Baby,” He groans, dropping his head down, burying it in the crook of your neck as you roll your pussy over the length of him that’s still covered by the navy blue material you can’t seem to get off fast enough.

He lets you do it a few more times before his hands find both your wrists, pinning them above your head, he peppers kisses along your jaw, letting his fingers glide down the length of your body, making sure to catch his chain still hanging off your neck as he stands back up. You finally get a good look at him, and the sight is enough to know the memory of today will be etched into the corners of your mind, just like the rest of them. 

Pink cheeks still kissed by the sun, and dark chestnut hair that matches his eyes twist at its golden ends in an even bigger mess now on the top of his head. The thick thatch of it on his chest curling from the sweat that drips down his neck, leaving translucent patches along the white cotton of his tank top, teasing even more of him to your starving gaze. His uniform hangs low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of the waistband of his boxer briefs, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He grabs at the sides of your thighs, his handsome face going kind.

“You came in here ready to tell me to fuck off,” he laughs softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles, “I just need to know this is what you really want.”

His words tighten in your chest, forcing you to make a decision so that when you have no one else to blame but yourself when you lay awake in your apartment with a broken heart in the fall, you can’t hate him anymore. 

“I really want it.” 

The answer stumbles past your lips before you can think too hard about it, pulling the rest of your rucked up dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed for his heavy chocolate eyes to drink in. Despite the muggy heat of the garage, your nipples pebble under it, cheeks going hot because you always feel like the most beautiful girl in the world when Steve Harrington looks at you like this. 

It’s all the encouragement he needs to let you go and do the same with his tank top, tossing it to the side before shoving the rest of his uniform down the tops of his thighs. Thick, long and heavy, your eyes widen as his hard length springs free, smacking against the happy trail at the bottom of his stomach. The pink tip leaks for you, shining with precum, while his big hand wraps around it, tugging a few times and making you drip more on the hood.

“I’ll go slow,” he coos, leaning down to capture your lips in something sweeter than the rest of them. “I know you can take it, honey.”

Nodding your head, you look up at him with glassy eyes, completely giving in, shutting off the part of your brain that’s telling you that you know better. Spreading your legs wider, his eyebrows marry in the middle of his forehead, cursing under his breath at the sight of you like this. He silently thanks whatever gods or girl that got Eddie sick, because this moment shatters any fantasies that have consumed his late nights. 

He runs the length of his cock through your slick, spreading you apart around him, earning the kind of mewl that makes him twitch in his hand. Your back arches off the corvette when he does it again only this time with added pressure to your clit. Locking your legs around his waist, you make sure he doesn’t get away. 

”So fuckin’ beautiful baby, Jesus Christ, look at you.” Steve grunts, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip into the tightening silk of your walls before both his hands find their way back to your hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. ”Wanna make you feel so good. You gonna let me?”

“Mmhmm,” you whimper a little high pitch and out of breath, letting go of all the control you’ve hung onto for the last five years with a dirty roll of your hips that begs to suck him in.

“Oh fuck, you’re still so - shit.” Steve practically whines, his jaw going hard with eyebrows that pinch together, trying to regain his composure from the way you pulse around him just nudging halfway in, the aftershocks of your first orgasm have you feeling every ridge of his cock, lighting your body up.

The stretch burns, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as flames lick deep in your gut from the feeling you’ll never get enough of. His calloused fingers grab at your chin, demanding your attention. Your lashes tickle the tops of your cheeks as you force them back open, only to find his face is closer now, both his palms landing on either side of your head, black iris’s threatening to drown you, holding your gaze with the kind of intensity that makes your heart palpitate.

”I want to look at you.” He breathes against your lips as one swift thrust has you completely filled up.

”Steve!” 

Gasping into his mouth, it takes all of your strength to keep your eyes open, focusing on the imperfect circles of the chestnut freckles that explode across the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah?” He smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, the rough hair on his chest tickling the softness of your breasts, nipples pebbling as your arms wrap around his neck.

“It feels, you feel -“

A loud moan rumbles from the back of your throat when the tip of him hits the spot that makes your toes curl into the fat of his ass, pushing him even deeper, the ends of your nails dig pretty marks all over his shoulders. 

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” He grunts, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, the roll of his hips becoming a slow grind. 

His pelvic bone hits your bundle of nerves just right while the tip of him bullies the spot that has your eyes threatening to close against his wishes, and it has you sounding like ‘Steve’ is the only word you’ve ever known. It’s a hazy mess inside your mind, especially when he looks at you like this. It’s worse than before, and you don’t know how you’re going to find your way back this time, something different inside of his gaze that you know is going to make it impossible.

”Missed you so much, so damn gorgeous angel, think about you all the time. All the fucking time.” Steve babbles, completely drunk off the way you flutter at his words, the angry facade you’ve been putting on crumbling around him as your body lets the truth come out.

The confession makes your chest tighten with all the unresolved feelings you’ve shoved down for so long, the ones you almost forgot were there until a few weeks ago. Fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck you lean up, capturing his lips to shut him up, rocking your hips to meet his thrust. He grunts into your mouth, cock twitching against your walls, eagerly licking into your mouth. 

It’s easier to get lost in him without the reminder of what used to be, teeth scraping together as the kiss gets messier. The metal of the car crunches and bends under your movements, but neither one of you can find it in you to care with noses pressing into each other's cheeks, tongues fighting for the kind of dominance your hips are at war about.

Steve is the one that breaks first, coming up for air, with eyes that seem even darker than before as he pushes himself up to stand. Big hands grab at your hips as a loose strand of hair falls across his forehead. Pulling halfway out, he takes a moment to admire the sheen you coat him, pink tongue darting out to lick his swollen lips before shoving himself all the way back in.

”Oh my god!”  You gasp, throwing your head back against the hood, your hands landing on top of his, fingernails digging into the tops of them.

“I wanna watch you cum again, can you do that for me, baby?” He tugs you closer, your body squeaking across the metal that tries to stick to your skin, the tip of him hitting that spot again.

Nodding your head, every hard thrust of his hips echoes through the garage, the car shaking underneath you as tires threaten to roll. He feels himself getting close, the pad of his thumb finding your clit to rub the kind of messy circles that have you saying his name just how he likes. 

“Come on, let me see how pretty you can get, let me have it.” He coos, finding the perfect combination to make you come undone all over him.

Your walls clench hard enough to try and push him out but he just buries himself deeper, a loud groan rumbling from his chest watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. White dances behind your heavy lids that squeeze shut as your legs start to shake around his waist. You try to shove his hand away, but he refuses, remaining relentless, milking your second orgasm for everything it's worth, making you cum even harder. 

“Yeah, that’s it, that’s iiiiit, so fuckin’ good for me.” He praises, completely lost in the way your body responds to him and it’s enough to send him flying over the edge he’d been teetering on since had you against the garage door.

A string of curse words falls pretty from his lips, twitching hard inside you and with the last bit of strength you have, you squeeze him even tighter, relishing in the way his jaw goes slack because of it. The movements of his thumb finally end its assault so he can grab onto your sides with both hands, fingers digging bruises as one last hard thrust has his warmth filling you up.

The feeling of being so full sends your body buzzing, watching him fall apart on top of you with sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. His head drops between his shoulders, body shaking as his orgasm rakes through him. Red cheeks and skin so warm it rivals the sun, he lets himself collapse on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck totally spent, still chasing his high with a slow circle of his hips.

Your nose finds its way into his damp hair, inhaling deeply because it somehow smells even better than before. You wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you know you should leave and forget this ever happened, but it feels too good to have hands sliding up your curves as he starts to drip out of you and onto the car. 

“God, Eddie’s going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin, making you squirm because it tickles, and you can feel him smile because of it.

“How’s he gonna find out?” You giggle, the metal of the Corvette popping under your shifting weight.

”Baby.” Steve snorts, leaving a kiss on the curve of your jaw before pushing himself up on his elbows, the endearment falling too easily off his tongue in a casual way, reminding you very quickly of your reality.

It’s harder to meet his eyes that search for yours, but you do anyway. They’re warm again, like a dark sand beach and it's hard not to want to lay out a towel and live inside them. Both of you wince as he pulls himself out, cursing under his breath at your walls staying greedy and trying to pull him back in. 

He doesn’t notice the shift in your demeanor pulling up his coveralls and tying the sleeves around his waist, or if he does he chooses to ignore it, grabbing your dress off the floor before offering you his hand. There’s less grease staining them now and you know it's because it's all over you, completely marked by him nearly head to toe whether you like it or not. 

Sliding your hand in his, you duck your head down as you take it, legs wobbling when your feet hit the ground, not missing the smug grin that pushes up his cheeks clocking it. You go for your dress but Steve just tuts at you pulling it out of reach, ignoring your scoff he shakes it out before lifting it above your head signaling for you to put your arms up. Rolling your eyes with a smile you can’t fight, you pretend not to feel the butterfly wings tickling your ribcage, turning around and doing as he asks, letting him drag the soft cotton down your body. Calloused fingertips tracing the goosebumps they create.

”Let’s go get cleaned up in the bathroom,” he hums softly, grabbing you by the hips, and pressing a kiss into the fresh bruise behind your ear.

You tell yourself you’ll leave after this letting him guide you by the waist and a chin on your shoulder. You think it again when the small space of the bathroom is filled with giggles and bashful smiles as he sits you on the closed toilet seat, wetting paper towels that turn into mache in his hands. You scream at yourself to do it watching him try and fix his hair in the mirror after wiping you down the best he can, pressing kisses on both your kneecaps. 

“I’ve been using this new product, but nothing hits like Farrah. I can’t believe they discontinued it. Dustin swears he can find me some, but who knows if you can even trust it’s the real deal, you know?”

Steve interrupts your inner turmoil with a face that’s far too serious for the words that just left his mouth and the thoughts running through your head. Your mood shifts almost instantly with a laugh loud enough to turn his cheeks the color of your toes, giving you an exaggerated eye roll despite the twitch of his lips.

“I can’t believe you still hang out with a middle schooler.” You tease, getting up on your feet, legs feeling a little less like jello but the reminder between your thighs only seems to intensify.

”I told you he’s like 19 - “

”Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Steve,” you grin, taking the break in the intensity of everything to try and work up the self-control to leave, wincing at the echoing clack of your flip flops that give you away instantly.

”Wait, where are you going?” Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, turning around to face you, he tightens the sleeves wrapped around his waist, biceps flexing while all the playfulness drains from his eyes.

”I should go before Robin -“

”What? No, she’ll be fine, it’s like noon. I’m sure she’s not even awake yet.” 

“Steve.”

”Honey.”

The two of you face off in a silent challenge, stares unwavering, mimicking each other with arms crossover over your chests. 

“Don’t run again.” He pleads with a whisper that’s barely audible against the beating of your heart in your ears, the room feeling smaller.

“I’m not running, I’m walking.” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, the corners of your eyes stinging but you refuse to acknowledge why.

”I’m not letting you walk home.”

“It’s down the road-“

“I don’t care! You’re not walking. Let me close up and then I’ll at least drive you.” 

You don’t argue with the hurt expression on his face, you can’t.

It’s somehow even hotter outside when the two of you sneak out the side door of the garage. A different kind of tension hangs thick in the air putting the humidity to shame, even with the sun shimmering from the highest point in the sky. His skin glows like liquid gold in its rays as he walks in front of you, your eyes following the movements of his freckled shoulders that flex with every swing on his arms. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hate the pit that settles deep in your gut because you don’t want to say goodbye just yet. Another consequence of a choice you made rearing its ugly head.

You aren’t expecting him to open the passenger door for you, the metal creaking loudly breaking a silence that’s filled with a thousand unspoken words just hanging on the tip of both of your tongues waiting to fill up the space. His gaze meets yours from under the thick length of his lashes, the corners of his lips twisting at the way you get bashful from the gesture.

”Thanks,” you whisper, catching a whiff of his cologne as you duck into the passenger seat that’s starting to feel like yours again.

He just hums in response, shutting it quickly and trapping you inside a metal box filled with every smell that reminds you of him. It pulls at your heart, and intensifies the burn between your thighs. Your fingers come up to twist the metal that still dangles from your neck, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to give it back after this. The already small space of the car shrinks even more when the driver side door opens and he slides in next to you with a huff, keys jingling loudly in his hand closing the door behind him. 

His shoulders brush with yours shoving the keys in the ignition, the seat vibrating underneath you as the beemer quietly roars to life. He keeps his hand on the stick shift, sweat slick skin pressing into yours shifting the car into drive. The radio isn’t as loud as you thought it’d be considering the way he was blasting it in the shop. Meatloaf’s I’d Do Anything For Love spills out of the speakers and you try not to laugh at the irony, scrambling to think of what to say to him as Robin’s apartment complex quickly comes into view. 

But he never stops.

“Steve, what are you doing?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest watching the baby blue paneling of her apartments whiz past. 

“This is technically my lunch break, and I’m hungry.” He shrugs, glancing at you with something mischievous in his eyes that you want to smack away because it makes your heart skip a beat, “You’re telling me you’re not starving after that honey?”

Smacking your lips together, you roll your eyes as hard as you can, trying to hide the smile that pushes up your cheeks. 

“Wow, your confidence always just astounds me.” Shaking your head, your sarcastic laugh only makes him grin.

”I think you like it.” 

You can’t bring yourself to deny it, fluttering your lashes at him with an attitude instead.

”But if you really can’t stand the thought of spending like another hour with me, I’ll turn around right now, honey.” You know he means it, feeling his foot slowly press on the brake in anticipation for your answer, “Just say the words.”

‘Say it, say turn around Steve.’

“Take me somewhere with fries.”

When you left Robin’s house this morning, you didn’t think watching Steve juggle two shakes and a large order of fries to the booth you’re sitting at with a heart so full it threatens to crack your chest, was where you’d end up at. His cheeks flush a deep shade red almost losing his footing, lovesick eyes too busy staring at you to watch where his boots land. 

God, this was not a part of the plan.

“I got you strawberry,” his grin is proud, remembering your favorite from high school when he drops your cool treat in front of you, and instead of sliding into the seats across the table, he plops down into the spot right next to you, knees bumping underneath the wood.

“What if I wanted chocolate?” You tease, body turning into a lit match pressing into his side.

“That’s what I got, and maybe, if you ask nicely,” he breathes, leaning in close enough for the tips of your noses to brush, “I’ll share.”

You wonder if he can hear the way you swallow at his tone over that oldies station that plays in the Hawkins Diner. 

“No thanks, you can keep your cooties.” Sighing, you have to fight the twitch of your lips tearing your eyes away from him to focus on the fried potatoes in front of you.

”I think it’s a little late for that baby, I’m afraid you’re completely covered in them.” He doesn’t hesitate to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek that's loud enough to catch the attention of the girls that’d been staring at him since the two of you walked in.

”Steve!” You try to scold, but the smile that spreads across your face gives you up, even if you wipe the kiss away with the back of your hand.

”What?” He smirks, grabbing a few fries and plopping them in his mouth and you try not to focus on the way his tongue darks out to collect the salt left over on his lips.

“I can’t stand you.”

It’s impossible to keep a straight face around him, even avoiding the playful gold that swirls in his gaze that hasn’t stopped showering you with adoration. 

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep better at night.” He shrugs, taking a big swig of his shake, subtly scooting closer so your thighs touch.

The two of you eat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head swimming with questions as your morning starts to really sink in. But your nerves make it impossible to focus on just one, especially every time you fingers brush, catching his small smirk from the corner of your eyes.

”So tell me something,” you try, ignoring the slight shake in your voice, “How did Steve Harrington, ‘king of Hawkins’, become a mechanic? I always thought you’d be in some big office with a suit working for your dad.” 

You notice the sour look that contorts the handsome features on his face at the former nickname again and you immediately feel bad for saying it. His thick eyebrows furrow, marrying in the middle as he tries to shake it off with a few harsh blinks grabbing another handful of fries.

”Umm, I did work for my dad’s firm for like six months actually.” He confesses, clearing his throat before tossing them into his mouth. “I think we hate each other even more now.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude that's not why I asked -“

”Honey, you’re fine.” He smiles warmly, a big palm finding the top of our thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it occupy the space permanently. 

”Turns out I’m a terrible office manager. I’d get super overwhelmed, which made me disorganized and we’d lose clients making my dad pissed, then one day I just kinda snapped after he laid into me in his office. Had a panic attack and then never showed my face there again.”

”Steve-“

“I knew he was going to fire me anyway, it’s fine” he laughs, running his free hand through his hair, the other sliding down your thigh so his thumb can rub circles into the soft skin next to your knee cap.

“So I wallowed in self pity for a month before Eddie started needing help at the shop. At first it just gave me something to do, he’d teach me a few things and turns out, I’m actually pretty good at it. It honestly feels really fucking freeing to stop being the person everyone expected me to be.”

He smiles with all his teeth, the kind of pride radiating off of him that makes the hard brick wall you’ve built around yourself start to soften, cracks forming in its foundation.

”Well, it looks good on you Harrington.” You have to look away when you say it, the butterflies becoming unbearable, because you weren’t supposed to feel like this. “I guess.”

He snorts at your stubbornness, bumping shoulders with you before snatching your strawberry shake earning the kind of glare that makes him realize he’s never going to get over you. 

Steve’s one hour lunch turns into two, almost becoming three getting lost in the kind of conversation that barely scratches the surface of everything you’ve missed. It’s all hushed tones, sweet eyes, and linked fingers that threaten to make you fold again, with the only thing saving you is the reminder of the mess you made on top of his client's Corvette, and Steve reluctantly admitting he needed to leave so he didn’t actually lose his job in the morning. 

It didn’t matter though, he got his date. 

And when he pulls up to Robin’s he doesn’t hesitate to steal your breath away, grabbing you by the chin, giving you the kind of kiss over the center console that leaves you dizzy, just like in high school. He doesn’t ask for his chain back, and you don’t offer it, bounding up the stairs to the apartment with it shimmering against your chest.

🌻chapter five