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sugoi-writes · 5 months

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Nun! Alastor X Reader - Part 2 - The Confessional

HahahaHAH ITS HERE!

Warnings: serious filth and sacrilege, mentions of tentacles, some choking, fingering, oral (surprise for whose receiving~) and some really depraved confessions and convos. Cursing!!! Yay, sin! I hope you guys enjoy 💗 there will be a VERY important poll at the end, so be sure to give it a look 👀

Edit: I noticed a few mistakes on my 100th read-through, and made some changes. Apologies for that!

Never had you felt more nervous when stepping towards a chapel, hands wringing themselves soothingly. The sweat clung to your palms as you looked up towards the looming structure, head straining to take in the full magnitude of the building. The intricate stained-glass windows were illuminated under the moonlight, casting grand scenes across the earth at your feet.

In Hell, most sinners were more active at night. Depending on the Ring you would visit, you would likely run into 'unsavory' company. But thankfully, this humble part of the Pentagram was lulling with sleep, as if abiding by the arbitrary notion of a "Sabbath Day". How ironic.

You wet your lips, cursing yourself for not taking better care of yourself, before you quietly enter the building. Your eyes scanned the main hall, the room you had sat in not too long ago. Candles lit up the pulpit faithfully at the front of the chamber, while torches lined the perimeter. In this lighting, the room seemed so different, giving off the air of a deathly calm and peace; a juxtaposition to its normally bustling, jittery energy.

You almost called out into the dim room, but restrained yourself. You bowed your head, looking down cast before uttering a gentle apology for the intrusion. When you looked back up, you nodded, hyping yourself up before coming into the room further.

It is by this point that you hear something shuffling, your head snapping towards the sound. Your bravado was instantly dashed as you flew into a panic. Your eyes flash with fear, hands flying defensively upward... before you sigh with relief. You caught sight of a small, fuzzy mouse, scurrying away from you. False alarm, for now...

Your eyes scan your surroundings again, before you spy a short hallway. You step towards it, noticing that there appeared to be a private area. You squint in the dim light, spying a humble looking booth within the room.

Bingo. This must be where "confessions" occur.

You start to make your way down the hall, eager to meet with the Priest about redemption. Your head was high; you had genuine, innocent hope that this wouldn't be some money laundering, bait-and-switch scheme. And if it was... well, you just might punch a priest.

Your eyes observe paintings on the wall; you were surrounded by familiar depictions. The birth of Jesus, the Crucifixtion of Christ... the First Fallen Angel, Lucifer's decent. The rise of both Lilith and Lucifer in Hell... all of the depictions reminded you just how dire your predicament was, and how much you desperately wanted to leave hell.

In the last frame in the hallway, you spy a photograph, pausing to get a closer look. In the center, arms folded pridefully, there stood the Priest, St. Vox... among him, to both sides, stood honest though demonic looking nuns. You squint at the form to his right, unable to make out the face of the tall, slender Nun. All you could make out was a set of yellowed, razor sharp teeth smiling back at you. You shuddered, unable to shake the feeling you were being watched, before you entered the private room.

You were welcomed in perfect silence, your eyes trained on the confessional booth before you. A simple construction, for sure, but the carvings and finishes made the booth seem... expensive. You walked up to it, hand tracing intricate carvings of religious iconography. Snakes, the Forbidden Fruit, Angelic wings... a myriad of designs and carvings litered the enter frame. Had you had better lighting, you would take the time to appreciate it more... but you were here on strick business.

Without hesitation, you entered the booth, having a seat in the left side. You were not comforted by a cushion or pillow, the seat creaking under you. You flinched, the noise almost deafening in the resounding silence. And then, you waited, waiting for a sign of the Priest you sought to speak to.

When the bench in the booth to your left suddenly creaked, you nearly banged your head on ceiling. Your heart was in your throat, frightened; did the door even open??? How did someone get in there so quickly???

A throat was cleared, the sound of static crackle replaced with a low hum, before a familiar voice cut through.

"Child, I apologize for keeping you waiting. Sadly, there's no rest for the wicked, nor those who seek to help them." You sigh in relief as Vox speaks to you, shoulders instantly relaxing. You fold your hands neatly in your lap, looking towards the booth's door as you spoke.

"No worries! It uhh-- it wasn't for long, if that's what you're worried about. I... well, your Nun informed me that you had a chance to hear me out? I hope that I came at the correct time..."

Midnight, on the nose. Though some cultures differed, you were sure you were correct on this notion...

"My Child, you came at the perfect time. But, I must fulfill my duty to you; to listen first. What have you come to speak about?"

You leaned back as your thumbs twiddle, suddenly sheepish," Well... I know your methods of redemption usually come through... err, "offerings". Monetary ones, at that. I was wondering if you had ever seen anyone be saved? Redeemed and brought to Heaven on just... good will and sinless lifestyle alone?"

A dark chortle... then, an uproarious laughter fills the booth as you look in shock.

"Oh, dear Child, you are mistaken! A sinner is not capable of change! Nor is a sinner able to even fathom walking to the Heavenly Gates. No... the actions taken can never be washed clean... at least, not in Hell. What's done is done. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. But..."

You feel your skin crawl as you feel the Priest facing you, still unable to see him in the darkness of the booth, just behind a lattice-patterned divider.

"You mention humble offerings... now those have proven to make life in hell more... comfortable. Much more so than that of anyone. Offerings have the ability to keep you safe; make you privy to things that others are not." You shrink back from the voice as it draws closer, a characteristic glitch setting in the tone.

"I-- your money can make you safe. It can welcome you to my fold, dear... Or... if money isn't on the table... there are... other ways to earn favor in this sacred place."

Your face instantly morphed from bafflement to rage, anger brewing in your core," What-- what are you saying?!?"

The voice past the partition seems to smile a wider," Dear, I believe you know that your soul could be traded... for freedom. For pleasures. Who best to give it to than a Priest who can promise you untold riches? No salvation, but, comforts in this life time? I can give you that-- and SO much more!!!"

"Forget it!!!" You shrieked, standing firmly on your feet and slamming your fist into the wall," I do have a confession to make, after all!"

You feel your eyes welling with hot, angry tears as your words spew out, unabashed," I LOATHE your methods! I think that taking people's money for their loyalty is-- it's sick! Almost as sickening as buying their love with promises of salvation! You're just-- just some pompous, religious twat!"

You slam your fist into the partition again, feeling your anger bleeding into your physical form," I'll tell you-- I'll tell you that I think you're a fucking sham.. this whole Chapel is! The only GOOD thing you have in this building is your fucking Nun, Alastor!"

The voice from the other end does nothing to interrupt you, seemingly silenced by your fury.

"In fact-- I think I will go seek her-- him??? THEM out!!!"

The door to your booth is slammed open by your hand, as you trudge towards the door.

"I've had it with this discussion. You aren't here to help me. You're here to coerce me. And I'm not gonna listen to another word of your warped gospel, you cheap, conniving, greedy fUCKER--!"

You gasped when you were suddenly slammed into the wall, body pressed flush to it as someone pinned you from behind. You struggled, choking as the air was unintentionally pushed out of your lungs. You became frantic as the hot breath of the demon behind you fanned across your ear. Shit-- shit!!! You fucked up!

A sickening, twisted laughed bellowed in the chamber, the tone of voice morphed and unable.

"At last, Sweet Lamb... you've begun to see the light!"

You freeze, eyes straining to look behind you. The voice of the Priest was no more, replaced with the familiar, velveteen tone of the Nun. You opened your mouth, struggling to speak with no support," Y-You! This is-- please explain!" was all you could squeak out, before a neutral hum sounds behind you. You shuddered as it reverberated through you, no time to think as you were spun around.

Again, the Nun's body pinned your own, craning downward to look at your frightened face," Sadly, the Priest could not make it to Confessional tonight... But, I was more than happy to step in, in his absence." You trembled as his arms left deep rivets in the wall beside you, swallowing hard," And, to be frank, the help he would have offered you would have been the same; inadequate, even."

You stopped struggling as you locked eyes with the demon above you, swallowing shallowly as he spoke again.

"Now, as for helping you: I'm afraid the only entity who can divinely interfere with your predicament is the Lord and his Seraphims. Not even the Ruler of the Hells could hope to overwrite God's Will." You eyes turn downcast, face heating at the words. Of course... that would make sense. Only God and the angels can open the gates, right? How foolish an idea you had...

"However..." You felt a clawed finger beneath your jaw, beckoning you to look up. You were faced with the same, wide smile, eyes narrow slits filled with delight.

"There are things that a Saint, such as myself, can still offer to you..." Your eyes widen in recognition: Aha! So he WAS a man, afterall. You blink, shaking your head quizzically.

"I have SO many questions-- for one, why would you be parading as a Nun, if you're a Saint?" Alastor's grin grows a touch mischievous, before a weighed sigh leaves him," Alas, the Priest here struggles with... containing himself. He has a history of giving in to Earthly desires, time and time again. I can bring him much discomfort with just my voice, let alone my body... I am merely a vessel for the Lord, and yet he wishes to, well, lay his claim. And so, the habit conceals everything he can't keep his eyes off of; everything he is not permitted to touch by the Lord."

His neck tilts, cracking with the harsh angle as he looks to you," I think it's quite the sound idea, don't you think?"

Alastor leans back, his hips still pinning you to the wall. Your face heats hastily with embarrassment. He seemed to be gauging your every move, calculating what you may try while under his trap.

"Sure, right-- Okay... perverted Priest. Wouldnt be the first time I've heard of that..." You looked up shakily to the nun... saint...? You aren't sure what to call him anymore. Alastor quirks a brow up at you, egging you to speak.

"Okay, okay, second question: what are you implying that you can help me with?" You yelp as a knee comes between your legs, caging you again. Alastor bends down at the waist to match your height, his face growing closer to yours. With hands at either side of your head... you were still so close... and so, so trapped.

"I think we both know that you have something else to get off your chest... Thoughts that you've been plagued with, My Lamb." A slender, warm finger runs down your cheek, knuckle first, ending the trail just below your jaw. You gasp as Alastor comes impossibly closer, his fringe nearly brushing your forehead.

"Wh...what do you mean...?"

The Saint chuckles darkly, shaking his head," Oh, wayward one... your eyes betray you. They betrayed you the moment you looked into mine." You nearly squeaked as his other hand brushed through your hair, ensuring he could see your entire face.

"I saw you, even from across the room... Eyes wide in awe, wonder... You were completely spellbound by a riveting performance. You tried to look away, you shifted in your seat to silence your nerves... And yet: your eyes never strayed far from this Servant of the Lord."

You could feel his breath ghosting over your lips, subconsciously parting them as he continued to speak," Your body kept betraying your internal struggle, Little Lamb."

A choppy gasp as the hand in your hair ran down to your neck, lightly caressing and pressing to your pulse.

"I could sense your heartbeat, quivering and loud, with each movement I made, each inhale I had to take to sing. Each time I smiled just a touch more... I could almost taste the sweat that ran down your brow, your eyelids fluttering during the final chorus. Your thighs could only do so much to relieve the pressure that built up in you. You were enthralled... but not by the Lord's gospel: but by me."

His hand drifted down to your chest, settling over the very spot your heart should be. Your breathing quickened, your eyes never leaving his. You cursed yourself, biting your lip to stifle any shameful noise you might create.

St. Alastor's smile never wavered as he leaned over you, that familiar heat ghosting over your neck.

"I didn't miss the way that your pulse quickened when I walked closer... you hadn't even been a part of my original section, you know. But Sister Eunice was more than willing to switch. Your palms became clammy, eyes glassy as you tried desperately to plan your escape... And the moment my arms caught you, I knew for sure: you also struggle with impurities of the flesh. Specifically..."

You watched with baited breath as his hand drifted lower, until they landed on the hem of your bottoms, ghosting just above your core,"... you struggle to keep your thoughts, your body's reactions, at bay around me."

You gasp as you are groped by the large hand of the Saint, breath already ragged from his words," But... to know for sure, I need to hear these impurities come from your lips. The first step to forgiveness is confession; honesty. You must repent for your actions, in order to properly atone. So... is there anything you need to confess to, Bashful One?"

Your eyes glazed over, a familiar heat brewing downstairs as you felt his palm grind against your clothed sex. Your head rolled back, lip quivering as the Saint waited patiently. Your mouth fell open, a quiet sigh escaping you.

"Yes, there it is... let it out, Lamb. Don't hide in shame from the Lord. Embrace it-- embrace this--" You whined as your arms grabbed at his habit, his hands shifting and rubbing you through your clothing torturously. You try to stifle another moan, eyelids fluttering," Th-This is-- haaah!" You let your eyes fall closed, brows furrowing," Y-You have the wrong idea, I didn't come here to f-fuCK--"

You could barely contain yourself as you felt the hands of the Saint slip into your bottoms, fingers tracing a sensual line from the bottom of you slit, up to the pearl that sat atop it. You whined as Alastor pressed against it, unable to think clearly as he began to swirl two digits around your clit. His movements are slow, not to overwhelm you, eyes taking in your expressions to monitor your progression.

"St. Alastor! I--" you caved to the feeling, grinding into the saint's hand," I-I didn't come for this, but... I-I did think immoral things about you." Good choice, Alastor thought.

You bit your lip as you were rewarded a pinch to your bud, back arching off of the wall as you wailed," I-I-- fuck-- y-your voice was really-- mmph!" You grabbed onto the demon's shoulders above you, rooting yourself in place as you felt Alastor's pace increase.

"Hah... y-your hands looked-- feel-- so warm! Uhhn! Y-your eyes were--" Alastor pinches again, correcting you," A-Are--! Your eyes are s-so deep-- it feels like you were-- i-it felt like you were undressing me with them!"

A sly smile graces his face, leaning in to place chaste, innocent kisses to your neck," ...and perhaps they were, clever Lamb... Perhaps they were~" You whined at the notion, mouth hanging open as you continued your confession. You could hardly think straight as you felt his fingers quicken, your eyes beginning to lose focus. You trembled, knowing that this confession had been doing lewd thing to your mind and body.

"W-When you caught me, for a moment I felt- hah-- saAAaafee~" You mewl as Alastor's fingers move lower, teasing your entrance, where you desired his fingers the most. Your face was tilted further to the side, before you felt a wet, hot mouth suckling at the junction of your neck. You shuddered, fighting the mewl he tore from you so easily. Unsatisfied, you felt sharp teeth biting down, making you shriek with surprise. Pain was quickly replaced with a soothing pleasure, Alastor kissing and licking at the wound apologetically. You sighed, working up the mental capacity to speak again.

"I-I felt, no-- I needed those arms around me again. I wanted..." Boldly, you moved your arms from his shoulders, pulling lightly at Alastor's veil," I really wanted to see what was underneath all of this, too... call it a sin, but... I... I have nothing to hide anymore; not from you or the Lord."

You watch as Alastor's head doubles over, a shaky groan escaping him. When he looked back up at you, his eyes blended in with the rest of the room: they became pitch black.

"What an obedient, honest fucking pet you are, Little Lamb~"

Without warning, two fingers made their intrusion, but your silken heat was relaxed enough to take him. You cried out in bliss from the reward, tugging at the head dress again. Alastor simply kept going, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he thrust his digits up into your welcoming, quivering heat.

"Ahh, ahh~ I've taken an oath, little one. No one is permitted to see such secrets~"

You whine as you clamp down on his wet fingers, brows furrowing. You needed more; you demanded to see more. You didn't miss the way that Alastor hissed, brows furrowing at how tight you were. It seemed that he enjoyed the display far more than he let on...

Attempting to ground himself, his hand landed on your neck, holding you in place. The effect seemed to make you wetter, eyebrows raising with realization as your moans deepened. What an interesting revelation~ The Lord most certainly worked in mysterious ways!

He leans down to your ear, voice low and dripping with a sacrilegious heat," ...Tap once if you would like me to tighten my grip. Tap twice to stop it immediately." Your eyes, wide with desire, fluttered and rolled towards the ceiling, but you nodded nonetheless. If this was how all of your confessions would go... then you would become a zealot of the Lord and the Saint before sunrise.

You gave his shoulder a tap, hand landing there as you let his fingers explore and scissor the walls of your pussy. Alastor was happy to oblige, his hand squeezing your neck gently.

The action made your mouth run dry, your eyes glazing with desperate, passionate tears as his fingers thrust deliberately in your core.

Another tap to his shoulder, your eyes gazing into the flickering radio dials that had become Alastor's pupils. Again, Alastor was happy to amuse you.

You couldn't contort or stifle the noises you made, grunts and mewls the only music to leave your delicate throat. St. Alastor's hand squeezed as promised, making you flutter pathetically around him. You whined as you took in the nun turned god, your tongue hanging precariously out of your mouth. He smirked, a dangerous chortle bouncing off the chamber walls.

"Already at a loss for words, Lamb?" Alastor's fingers inside of you flex inward, pressing against a spot that made you see the pearly gates.

"My, my, your confessions will fall unto deaf ears at this rate~ Speak up, won't you? The Lord and I are granting you an audience~" He knew you couldn't speak; he knew and he didn't care. He just wanted to see you keen and struggle against him, unable to do anything but beg for more or stop this all together.

You couldn't even think of a sentence, let alone speak it into existence. Your lips flapped desperately, hands snaking up to grip at the wrist and hand on your throat. Your legs quaked, your eyes threatening to roll back as you gave a singular tap. Just one.

Alastor's eyes gleam with insidious joy as his smile expands.

Even tighter.

You felt your hips guiding themselves along Alastor's devout fingers, chasing a feeling that was hastily approaching. Alastor did little to stop you, intrigued by the display. At the intrusion of a third finger, a wanton dribble of saliva cascaded down your chin. A strangled groan: you certainly didnt mind the delicious stretch that your entrance underwent.

St. Alastor returned his attention to your face, licking a heated stripe across your parted, swollen lips. You sputtered with ecstacy, the feeling further spurring you on. You felt your coil tighten, your throat burning as you panted with reckless abandon.

"Come unto me, Little Lamb."

You needed little motivation, a silent scream gracing your face as you completely shut down. Your legs spasmed and stilled, heart racing as Alastor finally let go of your neck. Your voice was hoarse for a beat or two, hands instinctively going up to your neck. You felt a small, dried blood trail from the bite on your neck, trembling with the notion that he visibly marked you. If he didnt intend to own you, then he made a grave mistake.

You only whine as the feeling of his warm fingers left your core; this only managed to light a fire in you. You look back towards the Saint as your eyes lidded, a heavy sigh his only warning as you pushed him off of you. Alastor, surprised, caught himself with a pitch black tentacle that manifested behind him. You start to unbutton your bottoms, pushing them off of your hips before kicking them to the side. You start trudging towards the Saint with a renewed heat in your eyes. Alastor's grin nearly split his face in half as he watched you, completely overtaken by your desire to commit more sins.

Alastor tilts his head, taking deliberate paces away from you and towards the confessional booth. He had a grand idea!

"It seems that you are still plagued with impure thoughts. Tell me, Dear Lamb..." Alastor practically chuckles as he takes you by the wrist, tugging you off your feet and into the booth. You land harshly on his lap, the both of you groaning as you grind down on his firm, tall erection.

His tone was dangerous, a myriad of tenacles materializing around your limbs," What other impurities trouble you, my Lamb?" You grow impatient, boldly reaching for his lap before your hand is held aloft. Cursed tentacle!!!

"P-Please, Sister-- Saint Alastor," Your tone comes our more like a plea than a demand, as your other arm is held over your head. Your legs are spread apart, your bare cunt dribbling your essence; it drips down your glistening thighs in a tantalizing way.

"I have had thoughts of you f-fucking me... a-and I don't know how to b-b-- AHH!!" Your hips buck at an unfamiliar feeling, one of Alastor's tendrils caressing and teasing your entrance," I-I don't how to-- How to banish the thought... I-I may need higher intervention. I-I need your blessing, St. Alastor."

A prideful, malicious smile replaces the amusement on his face, long, slithering tongue dragging across his lips," Well, that is certainly a hefty demand! You poor, sinful wretch!"

You cry out in pleasure as the tentacle spears you, exploring parts much deeper than his fingers could reach. You felt your arousal slicken the foreign body, making the intrusion easier. A wanton moan sounds in the air everytime the tentacle thrusts into you.

Alastor stands on his feet, flicking a wrist as the tentacle's speed picks up. You were completely helpless to his whims, your eyes threatening to roll back as you are overcome by the tentacles' hold and movements. The Saint looked all too pleased as you heard the rustling of fabric. You tried to look down, but a tentacle covers your leering eyes, making you wail in frustration. Alastor tuts like a disappointed teacher, shaking his head.

"And here I was, about to reward you for your blatant, unabashed honesty... Should I stop? Should I call the Priest to finish the job? Or should I leave you here, tied up and aching for relief... Just to let any-old-sinner find you in such a state?"

You freeze, biting your lip as the tentacle slows to a painfully slow slog. You whine again, thrashing your head in protest," N-No, no, no...! Ughhnn, no please! Don't stop! I-I still want your blessing, Alastor! Pl-Please!"

A wicked laugh sounds in front of you as a hand snakes up your top, finding and fondling your right nipple. You jolt at the sensation, the feeling multiplied due to the lack of sight. You weren't expecting the tentacle inside of you to stir to life at the same time, now with a renewed, brutal pace. You were practically screaming at the onslaught, bouncing from every thrust you were gifted.

"Ohh, I knew you would succumb to God's Will, my dear... You see, we all fall helpless, begging at God's feet."

You feel yourself being dragged down until your knees hit the floor , your hands still held high above your head. You weren't expecting warm, firm flesh to land on your face, gently slapping at your parted lips. You could only speculate what it was, your thighs unable to clamp together.

"I must warn you, receiving my blessing can be quite taxing... do you still wish to accept it, Lamb?"

Your tongue comes out from your lips, swiping along Alastor's cock. You feel his hips stutter as you lick all that you could reach, your head already lightheaded from your desire to please him. You swirl your tongue around the head, the tip of your tongue teasing the slit in your movements. You heard a warning growl, a hand fisting your hair and holding you in place.

Still unable to see, you look up towards the noise, mouth wide open," G-Grace me with your blessing, Oh Shepard..." You could feel Alastor's breath hitching, trying to restrain himself.

"Guide this Lamb to the light of the Lord. Please.."

You were given no time to prepare as Alastor thrust into your mouth, his animalistic grunt your only solice. You were shell-shocked as he and the tentacle worked in tandem to break you. You swiveled your hips and met the thrusts from below, arching your back as your head was used as a personal cock sleeve. Though you wished to see Alastor's own lips, bruised and panting, his hair clinging to his forehead as he thrust into you... the feeling would have to surfice. And though you wanted to run your hands along his abdomen, raking your nails across his pistoning hips... you couldn't deny that the feel of the whole ordeal verged on the precipice of Nirvana.

You groans and mewls made his cock twitch and leak more precum, making your mouth even more slick for his movements. He couldn't deny how good this felt; he, himself, would have a lot to answer for later, in the privacy of the basement. He moaned as he thought of his future atonement, limbs spread and head to the floor to form the cross before a statue of Jesus. His fingers would be clawing into the floor as he recited his virtues and prayers, pleading forgiveness for a sin he felt no guilt for.

His mind clouded with visions of you, trying to seduce and distract him. Your hands would trace along his body and caressing his traitorous, sensitive tail. This information, for now, was still unknown to you...

He practically shouted from the pleasure your mouth offered him, one hand holding your face still while the other braced himself against the confession booth door and splinted the wood.

He was already approaching his climax, and by the looks of it, you were nearing your second. His smile strained as his hips lost their rhythm, opting to seek the feeling and not the motion.

"Fuck-- fuck, Lamb... oh, my sweet Lamb!!!"

You whined around Alastor's cock, your hands struggling against their restraints as you cunt throbbed with the desire to cum.

"You are so-- fuck, so fucking warm!" You felt your orgasm bubbling in your core, your tongue doing its best to carress and snake around his cock, welcoming his release with open mind and body.

"An obedient Lamb... worthy of my blessing!! Arggh-- b-blessings upon you, Lamb!! Take it! Take every last drop-- Hah--"

You gagged as Alastor bottomed out in your mouth, unable to pull away as his 'blessing' painted you white as snow. You shrieked around his cock as a new tentacle traced fast circles around your clit, forcing your release to hit you by surprise. You screamed into the climax, feeling a warm gush between you legs as you finally came undone.

Alastor pulled out of your mouth, his tentacles still touching and pulling you through your release. Your eyes are uncovered as Alastor kneels before you, kissing you hard and passionately. Your hands were soon freed, and so you tore off the damned veil. You began tangling your hands into the Saint's red and black locks, your euphoria starting to die down.

Once you felt like you were back in the right state of mind, you parted from Alastor's lips, a pleasant smile on your face. You looked down to your lap, embarrassed at the unmistakable puddle you left behind from your passions. Alastor looked too, eyes flicking back to yours as his grin softened.

"Worry not. I will handle this, Lamb. No one will know of this night. And your confessions will be safe with me."

"...REALLY now..."

The both of your freeze, looking to one another as a familiar voice sounds behind you.

"Y'know, confessions: they're supposed to be in a private, sacred place... and from your actions, this place has been sullied and desecrated."

The door to the booth flies open, Alastor and you both jumping from the sudden BANG. Your eyes widen in horror at the Demon who stood in the doorway.

"What do you both have to say for yourselves?"

#nun!alastor #@st-alastors-confessional #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel drabble #alastor hazbin hotel #radio demon #heheheheh whose at the doooooor? i guess you guys need to find out... NEXT TIME #i hope you enjoy this filthy piece of mine ❤️❤️❤️#i hope it lives up to the hype #hdhdjsjsj #gdusjs #hehe #ice bath time #nun alastor

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saintsenara · 5 months

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honestly is there a single competent teacher at Hogwarts? Any teacher I can think of with more than 10 lines of dialogue is a pedagogical disaster. Very shippable disasters though, for which I am grateful because your page has made me giggle all week.

maybe Sprout.

honestly, anon? no.

that school is a basket case and the older i get the more my sympathy for cornelius fudge increases. imagine getting the call where dumbledore says "heyyyyy... so, i hired what i thought was an ex-auror who was retired from the service because of serious ptsd, gave him no teacher training, let him perform illegal curses on children for fun, and then it turns out he was an escaped convict trying to resurrect the dark lord all along. lmao."

i'd have devoted myself to trying to discredit him too.

and so, for fun and profit, i think it's only fair for us to establish an official competency ranking of the teaching staff at hogwarts during the period 1991-1998... points on for having a basic grasp of the material, points off for anyone who nearly dies in your class.

1. wilhelmina grubbly-plank, care of magical creatures

genuinely, professor grubbly-plank is the only person we meet in all seven books who seems to be an uncomplicatedly good teacher. she's got a series of well-defined lesson plans which feature a mixture of guided and independent study and which work in a tangible way towards exams, she has clear authority in the classroom but is never unreasonable or cruel, she's demonstrably able to lead a practical class which involves wild animals which might behave dangerously or unpredictably without there ever being any concerns about student safety, she takes an active pastoral role [such as when she helps heal hedwig's injured wing, reassuring harry enormously], she's collegial [she shares her lessons plans with hagrid in goblet of fire, and she refuses to criticise his teaching to umbridge], and she's admired by all of her pupils except harry [who is nonetheless begrudgingly forced to admit that she's incredibly good at her job].

plus, her aesthetic is iconic.

=2. filius flitwick, charms; pomona sprout, herbology

in joint second place, we have these two.

both sprout and flitwick spend canon seeming to be pretty good at their jobs - they have interesting lesson plans which seem to balance theoretical and practical work well and which prepare their pupils properly for exams, their pupils like them and enjoy their lessons, they're both excellent at the pastoral side of their jobs [sprout's gentle encouragement of neville is really lovely], and they're adored by their colleagues.

they lose marks for lax classroom discipline. harry, ron, and hermione are constantly yapping away in both charms and herbology - with harry and ron frequently failing to understand what they're supposed to be learning because they were too busy have a chat.

=4. remus lupin, defence against the dark arts; septima vector, arithmancy

two teachers here who earn their placement on the list by having one pupil who considers them life-alteringly inspiring.

for lupin, this is dean thomas - whose constant state of readiness to throw hands to defend his honour is one of his greatest character traits. for vector, it's hermione.

obviously, they're both well-qualified, well-prepared, engaging, and [at least in lupin's case, but i can't see why it wouldn't also be the case for vector] well-regarded by their colleagues.

they don't rank higher because lupin loses marks for endangering his students by not disclosing his knowledge that the presumed-to-be-a-death-eater sirius has a means of entering hogwarts without detection [i understand why he does this from a characterisation point of view, but it's inexcusable from a safeguarding one] and because vector teaches an elective subject which is implied to only attract bright, engaged pupils - and therefore has an easier time in the classroom than someone trying to get a student like crabbe through their exams.

5. minerva mcgonagall, transfiguration

in comes minnie mac at number five.

unsurprisingly, her solid curriculum, excellent classroom discipline, high-regard among her colleagues and pupils, support of student extracurricular activities, and investment in helping her pupils pursue the careers they want all give her points.

she loses marks, however, for the fact that she is so casually disdainful of pupils who aren't instinctively good at her subject - which suggests that she doesn't know how to adapt her material so it can be understood by every student she teaches. like dumbledore, she seems to have an identifiable favouritism for brilliant students - who she seems to permit to get away with much more than students she considers average or dull - which probably doesn't endear her to anyone who doesn't get that treatment.

on her pastoral approach, though, i don't think that it matters too much that she's not particularly nurturing - even though she's a head of house. she seems to be good at responding to genuine distress and managing genuine crises with empathy, and the "pull yourself together" vibes she takes in response to more trivial dramas is because she's a presbyterian scotswoman.

6. severus snape, potions & defence against the dark arts

the one on this list that i imagine will be controversial...

because snape is a dick in the classroom - not denying that - but he's also, in terms of his pupils' exam performance, clearly the most successful teacher in the entire school. he can fill his newt-level classes despite only admitting those with outstanding grades, and he expects every pupil he teaches to pass owl-level potions and seems not to be disappointed. hermione reveals that he does teach the theory of potions and the discipline's wider application - harry and ron just don't listen - and that she thinks his lessons are interesting.

snape loses marks - obviously - for his general vibe, although i think he should be allowed some leeway for his dickhead behaviour since potions is clearly a subject in which not paying attention and not being able to follow instructions properly is dangerous [hence why i've been a trevor hater since day one].

i suppose he should also be allowed some leeway because it's a genre requirement for a school story to have a theatrically evil teacher. but he's not getting it - since he clearly enjoys the role so much.

7. horace slughorn, potions

marks on for encouraging independent thinking and for clearly being able to hold a classroom's attention. marks off for not learning the names of pupils he's indifferent to, getting his favourite pupils drunk, and for having no follow-up questions to "hello, sir. i'd like to commit some murders."

8. charity burbage, muggle studies

entirely because i think it's genuinely admirable - and, indeed, far more admirable than the fact that the order of the phoenix all happily keep working for the state following voldemort's takeover - that she publishes an article in the daily prophet, to which her real name is attached, explicitly refuting blood-supremacist rhetoric when she must know that a blood-supremacist government is about to come into power.

marks off because the fact that even wizards who've taken her class appear to know fuck all about muggle society means that she can't be particularly good at her job.

9. firenze, divination

marks on because his pupils love him, marks off because that's a tremendously low bar to clear given... trelawney.

him telling his classes that divination is a bullshit, made-up subject is iconic, though.

10. "alastor moody", defence against the dark arts

i think it's genuinely impressive that he manages to go from being imprisoned under the imperius curse for a decade straight into planning a full year's lesson plans [which his pupils love] and doesn't have a breakdown.

marks off because of literally everything else.

=11. all the miscellaneous teachers: aurora sinistra, astronomy; silvanus kettleburn, care of magical creatures; bathsheba babbling, ancient runes

they seem fine.

14. rolanda hooch, flying

full respect to her for managing to wangle a full-time salary out of an annual workload made up of teaching one lesson [badly] and refereeing six quidditch matches.

15. quirinus quirrell, defence against the dark arts

all the proof those of us who hate professor riddle stories need that voldemort would have been a dogshit teacher, if he can't even get his meat-puppet to inspire a room full of eager eleven-year-olds in a subject which is about the coolest ways possible to kill people.

=16. cuthbert binns, history of magic; sybill trelawney, divination

they're terrible, obviously, but the fact that they remain in their jobs despite being so clearly incompetent is entirely dumbledore's fault. are you not giving the staff performance reviews, albus? come on now.

18. dolores umbridge, defence against the dark arts

umbridge deserves to be in prison, but she did at least bother to plan out a curriculum.

=19. gilderoy lockhart, defence against the dark arts; rubeus hagrid, care of magical creatures

both victims of dumbledore's "lol this will be so funny" era of hiring practices. both deservedly regarded as completely fucking incompetent by all but one defiant brownnoser. both possessing jazzy taste in textbooks.

21. amycus carrow, defence against the dark arts

he beats his sister simply because his pupils do appear to know how to perform the unforgivable curses correctly.

22. alecto carrow, muggle studies

literally nothing positive can be said.

#asks answered #where is ofsted?#albus... get the performance improvement plans out babe...#educational decrees they could never make me hate you #safeguarding tonite? safeguarding tonite queen?

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starstruckgrrl · 3 months

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CAn u do one for dr stone

Senku tbh js do anything

a/n: i came out of hiding to make this 😛 also i did get another request at the exact same time for a senku x reader so i’m hoping this was also you bc i don’t wanna do 2 in a row 😭

‧₊˚ ෆ synopsis: you came to visit your favorite future nobel prize winning scientist in the school chemistry lab, but you were bothered on your way there.

~ warnings: smut, afab!reader, no pronouns used on reader, reader has a crush on senku, senku knows, kissing, oral (f receiving), seniors in high school, sweet!senku, confession

as you walked towards the grand science lab at the end of the hall (aka senku’s lair), you fished out a pocket mirror from your backpack to check on how you looked at the moment.

“checking your appearance before you see the mad scientist?” taiju asks you, and you nod in response.

“i’m gonna try to tell him today, so i need to look perfect.”

“good luck!” taiju shouts, “i’m gonna tell yuzuriha tomorrow!”

“i believe in you!” you reply as he runs off to find her.

you swing open the door to the science lab where you find senku writing notes as a solution bubbles before him.

“hello, y/n.” senku greets.

you greet him back and sit next to him, and he finishes his writing and closes the notebook. he turns to face you, looking at you seriously.

“y/n, we should talk.” he says.

oh no… isn’t that YOUR line? you’re the one who came to confess! is he mad you intruded on him? he looks so serious too… this can’t end well.

you immediately begin to worry, and he picks up on that.

“don’t overthink, i’m not upset with you!” he says to stop your train of thought.

“not even one millimeter?” you reply teasingly, looking at him through your lashes with a sly smile.

he grins back at you and shakes his head.

“y/n, you know i’m not one for formalities and tradition. i believe in innovation and science. having a partner always seemed like one of those stupid traditions to me…”

tears begin to well up in your eyes. he knew about your crush, and was trying to let you down easy, you thought.

“but, even so, i am human, i can’t deny how i feel.”

senku grabs your hands and holds them in his, a complete change for the usually non-physically intimate man he is.

“y/n, i… like you. i can tell you like me too, and you just understand me in a way other people don’t.”

senku cringes before he finally says, “will you be my partner?”

“of course i will, senku!” you reply, throwing yourself onto him to wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close for a hug.

he hugs you back, relishing in the moment for a while. he pulls back to look at you, face to face, before he says, “we’ve been together for 52 seconds.”

you smile wide and laugh, sweet and genuine.

“are you going to be keeping count from now on?” you asked.

“obviously. i will have to know when to buy you anniversary presents.”

you reach up to cup his face and leaned in to kiss him. it starts slow, experimental from the both of you. senku begins to get more passionate, though, to have confessed in the first place, he must be pretty passionate about you. he only involves himself in things he truly believes in or cares about.

senku breaks the kiss to breathe, your foreheads still connected as you inhale and exhale quickly. he let his hands rest on your sides, above your ass, and pulls him towards you, gesturing for you to sit on his lap.

the two of you kiss again, and you begin to feel the familiar heat pool in your lower half as you grind on his thigh, ever so slightly. however, senku being as attentive as he is, of course notices.

putting his hand on your inner thigh and rubbing your core through your pants, he says, “let me help.”

you end up laying on your back on an empty table in the science lab, with senku between your bare legs, your pants and underwear laid next to you.

senku is, for once, vulnerable looking as he sits on his knees. you don’t have time to tease him at the sight, though, because his fingers are working so well at your clit, rolling the sensitive bud and drawing circles on it. his mouth is too occupied to tease you for the way your face is so flushed, as his tongue is drawing figure 8s in your cunt.

the two of you are lucky everyone is gone from the school, as the moans you’re letting out would immediately notify anyone nearby.

#anime smut #dr stone smut #dr stone #senku smut #ishigami senku #dr stone senku #senku x reader #dr stone x reader #senku ishigami x reader

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atalana · 14 days

Text

second thing from the book of bill i wanna overanalyse! ford's journal entry right before he sent that postcard to stan (written out for ease of reading)

CONS: 1) S is an overgrown child with none of my rigorous mental training. Who knows what could happen if Cipher stepped inside Stanley's mind for even one minute... 2) What if Stanley somehow manages to destroy the portal like he destroyed my perpetual motion machine? I suppose that machine did work in it's own way... It kept me perpetually angry for thirty years! [Coded message: Have I been too harsh all along?] 3) What if he tries to rope me into his latest get-rich-quick scheme? His latest commercial was for "Stan Sauce: The Miracle Sauce that's too cool for the FDA!" 4) What if... he mocks me? What if he sees that I abandoned our family to become a recluse on the brink of madness? Could I risk admitting that I was... wrong? PROS: I have no one else.

like okay, to take this point by point

1) i keep comparing this one with "you would have seen him for the scam artist he is" in the finale. it took ford that long to come around on the idea that stan actually does have areas where he's the smarter twin. the idea that stan could be better equipped than ford to handle bill is something that never occurred to him, ford was just focused on "only the most intelligent person could beat bill and i can't so what hope does stanley have??". which is exactly how bill suckered him in the first place

2) it took me a few rereads on this one to realise what it was ford was actually afraid of? like, yes, he wants to shut down the portal, he doesn't want bill to use it. but just like with his journals, he's terrified of the idea of the portal being destroyed. it doesn't matter that it was furthering bill's plans, or that leaving all of these things intact just increases the chance of them being used for harm in the future - that's his life's work! it's his ticket to being recognised by the whole world for how great he is!

ford you are full on "fairytale king can't let go of his fortune even when it dooms the world" here. you can blame other people all you like, but the reason you got sucked through the portal (starting the chain that would eventually cause the apocalypse), is that the portal was still fully functional. like! you could have stopped all of this by just taking the portal apart. but you would never be able to rebuild it, because it was a joint effort between you bill and mcgucket, and neither one of them will ever help you again. you got addicted to the idea of the glory you would get for this, and your self esteem is rapidly dwindling the more you realise how wrong you were, so as far as you're concerned, this is all you've got. and just like your dreams of going to that college, you're scared stan will take it away from you

2.5) the fact that "have i been too harsh all along" is the part in code. because even while you're considering it, you don't want to acknowledge it. of everything you wrote here, that's the part you're ashamed of, and so you're hiding it where no one could possibly read it.

3) this is just an excuse to rag on stanley and feel better about yourself. do not pretend for even a moment like this is a genuine worry. what could stan possibly do to rope you into a scheme that would be worse than the situation you've already cooked up for yourself? it's not like you have a problem saying no to him

4) there's the meat of the issue! the shame is back! it's been motivating you your entire life, it sure ain't stopping now you've got something to legitimately be ashamed of!

but this is also the most clearheaded and honest about the whole situation we've seen ford be. it really does feel like a tipping point where it could have gone one way or the other - if the portal hadn't split them up again for another thirty years, it's possible stan might have been able to get through to him here. it wouldn't have been easy, but there was a chance

and then god that last line hits so hard, i had to stop for a moment when reading and just let that one sit with me. like you have a whole page of reasons why you don't want to involve stan in this, and you could probably come up with several more if someone asked you to. but at the end of the day, none of those objections actually matter. you know they're superficial, compared to that massive glaring truth - you have dug a hole for yourself so deep there's no way to get out of it on your own, you've pushed away absolutely everyone who could try and help you, and there's only one person who's stubborn enough and loves you enough to come anyway

#gravity falls #the book of bill #stanford pines #stanley pines #ford pines #stan pines

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undercover-smutlover · 1 year

Text

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley…💀

main masterlist📌

*·˚Don’t forget to reblog, follow, like, and comment on the authors’ or artists’ pages. Show them some love!

*·˚Broken link or @? Pop a note in the comments or my ask box.

Works by @ghostsareeverywhereblah2

Guard Dogs Pt.1: “He’s even cuter in person”

Guard Dogs Pt.2: “She’s always listened, just not to you”

The Progeny Series: “Shit, Lt. Looks like you actually have a real admirer”

Grumpy x Sunshine: Who in the world can be in a relationship with Simon?

Works by @lethalchiralium

Delicate + König: You were glad you had them both, satisfying your needs

Raindrops: He’s trying to remember every moment

Works by @ghosts-cyphera

Bloodied Bullets, Soft Confessions: “I guess I’d been lucky so far.”

Pornstar Ghost: All genuine, from both of you

Works by @peachesofteal

Dead Disco: The one that’s always left behind

Light On: Simon has a new neighbor

Through Me (The Flood): Still, even in this moment, you leave him breathless

Works by @lvrxly

Singledad!Ghost: "Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease

An Odd Feeling:

Works by @chaosandmarigolds

Among the Bullets Ch.1 Pt.1, Ch.1 Pt.2, Ch.2 Pt.1 , Ch.2 Pt.2: “Adrenaline makes the body do some pretty insane things, sir.”

Pre-K Universe

Works by @tojisun

My Baby Swinging: Simon and his pretty little sweetheart’s adventures

The Apple that rolled over to The Tree

It Takes A Rampage (to be a dad)

Works by @bi-writes

Final Girl

Pregnant!Reader Snapping at Simon

Clean Up Call

Works by @writersdrug

Training For Two

Tea and Cigarettes

Works by @halcyone-of-the-sea

Sole Survivor: “Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”

Digging Gaze: But he was afraid, as well. Terrified

Three Is A Crowd by @xyziiix: Well your Captain always like proving you wrong

Cherry by @barefoothighlander: Ghost finds out about your side gig

The Captain by @as-is-above-so-below: Ghost’s wife joins the team on an op agaisnt his wishes

Bleeding Out Pt.1, Bleeding Out Pt.2 and Bleeding Out Pt.3 by @constantcrisis19: A bomb almost levels the entire town. Ghost extracts you.

Oneshots & Multichapter and Price’s Birthday by @rileyslibrary: An entire collection of Simon Riley oneshots

The Things I Never Said Pt.1 and The Things I Never Said Pt.2 by @lvlyghost: When the inevitable happens, you run

Ghost in the Austrian Asylum by @prazinos: The two of you want him as well

Painless Bruises by @tacticaldiary: Avoiding Simon’s gaze is harder than it’s ever been

The Experiments by @diaryofanidiot: Forced to fight and claw her way to live

The Accused by @amoristt: You fucking ran. What choice did you have?

Badges of Honor by @clairdelunelove: Ghost always recieves the biggest stickers

King!Ghost x Princess!Reader by @hyperactively-me: Stubborn Princess who warms up to the King

Ghost x Civillian Masterlist by @sim0nril3y: How he met his civillian and fell in love

The Twins by @princessdimondheart: He saw his own eyes

How many fingers am I holding up by @sprout-fics: “Don’t hate me for this, Si.” You think weakly

Lime-Sized by @imperihoe-writes: Sighing happily, she wiggled a bit deeper into his embrace

Bodyguard!Simon x Popstar!Reader by @xo-cod: Simon looks on in pride

Phantom Frost Line by @diejager: You’re a new face, unknown to Ghost and he isn’t too keen about the news

Nothing’s New by @thewriterg: He held you like he always will and as he always had

Unmasked Love by @springtyme: she turns her head to look over at you with an excited expression on her little face

Welcome Home by @babygirl-riley: but when she was around wow, he would make sure everyone knew who she was

Odds On by @bits-and-babs: The smirk that had been threatening to break finally cracks across your lips at the confirmation of your victory

His Heart, His Light, His World by @thexsilentxwordsmith: "You deserve it all, Simon. Every once of it."

Unexpected by @dammn-dean: Simon felt a pang of something up his spine, similar to jealousy but close to disappointment in himself.

If Only You Would Have Trusted Me by @ltghosty: That was the only thing that helped you come to peace with the things you were forced to do in order to protect your family.

Husband!Simon by @ahqkas: he didn’t hesitate to scoop the smiling baby up into his arms

Glory Days by @sstormyskyesss: If you weren't focused on calculating the best strategy out of this particular setback, you’d be able to see the stars in Simon’s eyes

Simon Riley Collection by @starstruckmiraclekitty:

Cure For Me [zombie!ghost] by @groguspicklejar:

Who Wants to Live Forever by @writeforfandoms: Then his lips twitched. “Took you long enough.”

Vegas Wedding by @ceilidho: When he stretches an arm up to scratch his upper back, you almost whimper at the way his arm bulges.

Secret Haven by @lightwing-s: and the moment his eyes caught yours you could clearly understand his message.

Lovely by @daisies-daydreams: “Even though this isn’t on my finger while I’m at work, I’ll always act like it is,” you reassured him

Homeward Bound AU by @writeforfandoms: You spared a brief thought of thanks that your mother had taught you everything about this job.

Firefighter!Simon Riley by @thelaisydazy: He loves the ones handed over the counter by the cute worker that smiles at him and fusses over the dog every morning.

Simon’s Favorite Hair by @lovifie: And in that moment, with your hair still in his hand, he knew he was in trouble.

Coffee Shop by @sinkovia: His life was good, and he couldn't ask for more

The Next of Kin by @soapybutt17: Many eyes had lingered on you when they heard your last name

Nurse by @jayybugg: Ghost stayed silent. His eyes stay trained on you, no words or sounds coming from him.

Gold Rush by @midnightarcheress

Soft Spot by @cordeliawhohung

Hatred For You Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5 by @mangowafflesss

Dad!Simon by @tacticalgirlboss

Accidental Sugar Baby Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3 by @brainoutofstock

Special Eye on Singlemom!Reader by @bi-writes

Meeting Single-mom!Reader by @zvdvdlvr

Russian Roulette by @writingangst

No More by @mayflysdie

Footballer Simon by @dante-mightdie

Transferrable Skills by @dragonnarrative-writes

implied fat!reader x bluecollar!simon riley by @drgnflyteabox

Was Warm by @eevee-of-eternity

Ghosting Series Pt.1, Pt.2 by @bittersw33t-lotus

Weird by @fivechapters

Beaded Bracelet by @manicrouge

The Poor Decision by @ceilidho

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#undercover-smutlover #call of duty #modern warfare #cod smut #task force 141 #lieutenant simon riley #ghost #simon riley #lieutenant #favorite fics #fic recs #fluff #slow burn #smut #angst #x reader

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summerclementine27 · 2 months

Text

Meet Me in The Hallway 🌷 pt.2

Summary: Y/N finally admits her feelings to Mr. Styles, feeling a wave of honesty as they have a drink together to celebrate their debate team’s win. However, what Y/N doesn’t expect is that he feels the same or the escalation of events that happens when he admits to his feelings.

Warnings: smut, argument, and fluff.

Word count: 14.5k

(sorry it’s long but there is a happy ending if you stop at the line and ignore the rest)

We made it to the semi-finals, and the pressure was palpable. Every debate round brought us closer to the goal, and I could feel the weight of my team’s expectations on my shoulders. I wanted us to win, not just for the glory, but because I believed in our hard work and dedication.

Amidst the stress and excitement, my mind often wandered to Harry. There was an undeniable chemistry between us, a spark that flickered in our shared glances and lingering touches. It was thrilling and confusing all at once, adding an extra layer of intensity to an already charged atmosphere. As we prepared for the next debate, I couldn’t help but hope that our connection would somehow bring us luck, pushing us to triumph in the competition and maybe, just maybe, in our budding relationship.

I started to truly see potential for this after we won the first few rounds, when Harry hugged me tightly for the first time, rather than his usual awkward side hugs, his enthusiasm matching my own. His embrace felt warm and reassuring, a silent promise that we were in this together. The way he looked at me, with pride and something else I couldn't quite define, made my heart race. It was in those moments of victory, amidst the cheers of our teammates, that the chemistry between us became impossible to ignore. His hand would linger on my back, his eyes would lock with mine a little too long, and every shared smile felt like a secret.

The debate team gathered in the hotel conference room, the air thick with anticipation. As president, it was my job to rally the team, but today, I wanted to give Anika, our vice president, a chance to lead. She had worked tirelessly alongside me, and I knew she had the passion and skills to motivate us all.

"Alright team," I began, "today's the semi-finals, and we've fought hard to get here. But I'm not the one who's going to lead the debate or give the pep talk today. Anika, take it away."

Anika stepped forward, a mix of surprise and determination in her eyes. "Thanks, Y/N," she said. "We've all worked incredibly hard to reach this point, and I couldn't be prouder of each and every one of you. Remember, it's not just about winning. It's about representing our university with pride, about supporting each other, and about showing everyone the power of our ideas. Let's go out there and give it our all!"

The team responded with cheers and words of encouragement, their spirits visibly lifted. As they filed out of the room to prepare, Harry stayed behind, his eyes fixed on me. Once we were alone, he approached me with a curious look.

"Did you do that as the president, or as Anika's friend?" he asked, his tone both gentle and probing. "Are you feeling less confident about today?"

I shook my head, meeting his gaze steadily. "How could I feel that way when you’ve been by my side, supporting me? I believe in myself, in this team we’ve trained, and I genuinely believe Anika can do this."

Harry smiled, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. "You’ve got a way of inspiring confidence in others, Y/N," he said softly. Then, his expression softened further as he noticed a strand of hair on my face. "Hold still," he murmured, reaching out to gently tuck the stray hair behind my ear.

I laughed softly, feeling a rush of warmth. "Oh, are you fixing me up now?"

"Yeah," he replied with a playful grin. "We have each other's backs, right? Do I look okay?"

I glanced over him, my eyes lingering a bit longer than necessary. "You look more than okay, except your tie is a little loose."

Feeling an inexplicable pull to be closer to him, I stepped forward and adjusted his tie, my fingers brushing against his chest. I let my hand rest there for a moment too long, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.

Harry's eyes darkened slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Y/N," he said, his breath warm against my cheek. "You’re quite the motivator."

A shiver ran down my spine at the intensity of his gaze. "Well, Mr. Styles," I whispered back, my hand still on his chest. "If we win tonight, maybe we should do something to celebrate. How is that for motivation” I teased, knowing the influence I had on him now.

“I don’t know, Y/N. All the teams are having a party on their floor, don’t you want to join them instead of hanging out with your old professor”

“Hey you’re not that old, your maybe ten years older than we are. Plus I would rather escape the noise.” He didn’t seem convinced so I felt compelled to change his mind. “A few drinks could do us some good." I tried to add without sounding too desperate.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Is that your professional opinion, Madam President?"

I smiled, my heart racing. "Absolutely," I said, reluctantly stepping back. "Now let's go out there and win this."

As we left the room, the playful tension between us was palpable, making me feel both exhilarated and grounded.

The room buzzed with anticipation as the semi-final debate was about to begin. The stage was set, with the opposing teams seated at their respective tables, their expressions a mix of determination and nerves. Our team, representing our university, was positioned confidently, with Anika at the helm as the lead debater. I stood to the side, trying to maintain my composure, knowing that Harry was somewhere in the audience, his presence a constant source of support and encouragement.

Anika opened the debate with a strong introduction, her voice clear and authoritative. She outlined our position on the topic, highlighting the key points we would be addressing. As she spoke, I could see the judges nodding, their interest piqued by her articulate delivery.

"Our stance on the issue of renewable energy is not only based on environmental necessity but also on economic viability," Anika stated, her eyes scanning the room. "We believe that investing in renewable resources is the only sustainable path forward."

The opposing team responded, presenting their arguments with equal fervor. They challenged our points, bringing up counterarguments that were well-researched and thought-provoking. The back-and-forth exchange was intense, each side trying to outmaneuver the other with logic and evidence.

I watched Anika closely, admiring her composure under pressure. She deftly countered their arguments, pointing out flaws and inconsistencies with a calm confidence that was impressive. The rest of our team supported her with well-timed interjections, reinforcing our position with additional data and examples.

As the debate progressed, the atmosphere grew more charged. The stakes were high, and every point made felt like a small victory or a setback. Harry’s eyes met mine briefly from across the room, and I drew strength from his steady gaze. He believed in us, and that belief was contagious.

In the final round, Anika delivered a powerful closing statement. "Our commitment to renewable energy is not just a policy choice; it's a moral imperative. We owe it to future generations to act responsibly and sustainably. The evidence is clear, and the time to act is now."

The room fell silent as the judges deliberated. The tension was palpable, each of us holding our breath, waiting for the verdict. Finally, the head judge stood up and announced the results.

"The winner of this semi-final debate, based on the strength of their arguments, clarity of presentation, and overall impact, is...Manchester University!"

A wave of relief and elation washed over me. The team erupted in cheers, hugging each other in celebration. Anika beamed, her hard work and dedication rewarded. I glanced towards Harry, who was clapping enthusiastically, his eyes shining with pride.

We gathered our things and began to exit the stage, the exhilaration of our victory still coursing through us. As the team dispersed, Harry made his way towards me, his smile warm and genuine.

"You did it, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "You led them to victory."

I smiled back, feeling a rush of gratitude and affection. "We did it, Harry. Together."

He reached out, his hand brushing mine. "So, about that celebration tonight..."

I nodded, the excitement of the win mingling with the promise of a quieter, more intimate celebration. "I think we’ve earned it."

Harry and I agreed to meet in the hotel bar later that evening. The entire debate team was planning a celebration on our floor, but the idea of escaping the noise for a quieter moment together was far more appealing

I arrived at the bar first, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. I had changed into a neat black dress that hugged my figure modestly, paired with black tights and a burgundy cardigan for a touch of color. I had clipped half of my hair up, hoping it looked as polished as I felt. The bar was dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere, and I chose a corner stool where we could talk without interruption.

A few minutes later, Harry walked in, looking effortlessly stylish in a fitted navy blue blazer over a crisp white shirt, paired with dark jeans. His hair was slightly tousled, and he wore a charming smile as I noticed him, in the middle of trying to take off my cardigan in the heated up space.

“Here” he said as he helped tear away the fabric from my arms. He draped it over my bar stool chair as he placed a hand on my back and gave my cheek the most subtle kiss, his lips barely touching mine though I felt the heat of his cheek.

"Y/N," he greeted before I could thank him, taking the stool next to mine. "You look amazing."

"Thank you, Harry. You clean up pretty well yourself," I replied with a grin.

He laughed softly, signaling the bartender. "What are you having?"

"I think I'll start with a glass of red wine," I said.

He nodded, ordering a glass of wine for me and a whiskey for himself. As we waited for our drinks, he turned to me, his eyes reflecting the warm light of the bar.

"So, how come you’re celebrating with me and not your friends?" he asked, genuinely curious. “Not a party girl?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” I replied with a playful grin.

“Would I?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“Well, not too surprised, I suppose,” I said, making him smile that smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “I go to Uni parties often, once a week maybe, or twice if there's an occasion. Less if I'm busy or tired.”

“Hmm, I pegged you for the quiet type. Do you dance?”

“I try, but my years of ballroom dancing proved to be useless,” I admitted with a laugh.

“It often happens that way,” he joked. “It seems you had a strict upbringing—cursive, ballroom dancing. What else can you do?”

I took a sip of my wine, considering his question. “Well, let’s see. I can play the piano, though I’m a bit rusty. I also learned how to paint, mostly landscapes and still life. Oh, and I can bake a mean batch of cookies.”

Harry chuckled, clearly amused. “A woman of many talents. I’m impressed.”

“What about you, Styles?” I asked, turning the tables. “What hidden talents do you have?”

He leaned back, swirling his whiskey thoughtfully. “Well, I’m not much of a dancer, but I can play a decent game of football. I also dabble in guitar playing, though I’m no rock star. And I can make a pretty good cup of tea, if I do say so myself.”

“Guitar, huh? Maybe you can play something for me one day,” I suggested, feeling a warmth spread through me at the thought.

“Maybe I will,” he said with a soft smile. “But only if you promise to dance to it, ballroom style.”

I laughed, the tension between us easing into a comfortable camaraderie. “Deal. Just don’t laugh if I trip over my own feet.”

“I would never,” he said, his tone serious but eyes twinkling with mischief. “Besides, I’m sure you’re a wonderful dancer.”

“So, can you sing too, or just the guitar?” I asked, shy at his compliment but beaming at his words, nonetheless. I was fearful I was coming off as too excited but I couldn’t play it cool if I tried. Besides, I think he liked it.

Harry’s eyes sparkled. “Yes, I do sing. I enjoy it a lot, though I wouldn’t call it a talent. I like Karaoke” he said as though compensating for the former part of his sentence.

“Do you know about the karaoke bar near the School of Literature?” I asked

Harry nodded, a playful glint in his eye. “Yes but you’re forgetting one very important thing, Y/N.”

“And what’s that?” I asked, intrigued.

“It’s always packed with students,” he teased.

I laughed. “Hey, I’m a student too, you know.”

“You’re different,” Harry said, his voice taking on a softer, more thoughtful tone. “There’s something special about you. I’m not sure how to explain it, but it’s not the same.”

I felt a thrill at his words. “So are you.” I said as he hummed quietly.

As the night went on, the conversation between Harry and me flowed effortlessly, shifting from lighthearted banter to deeper, more personal topics.

“And your parents are divorced too?” he asked, his tone casual but curious. After sharing that his mum still lived in Holmes Chapel, Manchester, and that he visited her on weekends when he wasn’t working, he continued, “I don’t mean to pry, but you mentioned how you visit your mum in London and your dad in—”

“—In various places,” I finished for him, smiling. “Yes, they are divorced. I guess I’ve gotten double the vacations out of it.” I chuckled, leaning in a bit.

“That must be nice, where have you been?”

“My mum loves to take me to places rich in culture, like Bali or Thailand, but we usually end up spending most of our time cooped up in a resort. Not that I’m complaining; the food is incredible. But, I guess you can say my mum and I have our differences”

“Hm” Harry said, nodding. “And your dad? You take more after him I suppose”

I smiled, considering his question. “I guess you could say that. My dad’s got this adventurous spirit, always seeking out new experiences. He’s the one who took me on those trips to Morocco and Kenya. He’s the kind of person who’s always on the move, exploring different cultures and cuisines.”

Harry’s eyes lit up with interest. “Sounds like you inherited the best from both worlds”

I tilted my head, intrigued. “How do you mean?”

“Well,” Harry began, leaning in slightly, “it seems like you’ve got this adventurous side from your dad, always seeking new experiences, and a taste for the finer things from your mum. It’s like you’ve got the curiosity and zest for life from one side a sort of classy stillness in your disposition that I suppose is from your mum. It makes sense why you’re so dynamic and interesting.”

I smiled, feeling a warm glow from his words. “I guess I never really thought of it that way. But I suppose it does make sense.”

Harry’s gaze lingered on me, a playful glint in his eye. “I think it’s a great combination. It makes you someone incredibly interesting while still being elegant and poised.”

I laughed softly, touched by his thoughtful observation. “Thanks, Harry. That makes me sound like – well its quite the compliment. Changes my mind about what I inherited from my mum.”

“Is that why you didn’t stay in London for university? Because of your differences with your mum?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I replied with a laugh. “I always tried to get as far away as possible without raising too many eyebrows. I even took a gap year to study French in Paris, which my dad was actually quite enthusiastic about.”

“Wait I wouldn’t have guessed you took a gap year, you were born in 2005?”

“2004,” I corrected with a smile. “I’m a bit older than you might think.” I teased though I still worried the 10 year age gap would feel more pronounced once I mentioned something about it.

Harry’s interest was piqued. “And you can speak French now?”

“Yes, fluently,” I replied, trying to hide my pride.

“Say something in French for me,” he prompted with a teasing glint in his eye.

I hesitated, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. “Oh, Harry, I don’t think I should, My accent is not the best and-.”

“Come on,” he urged with a playful nudge.

I took a deep breath, my cheeks warming as I said, “Je t’aime beaucoup, Harry, plus que tu ne pensées.”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. “What did you say?”

I bit my lip, deciding to be honest. “I told you that I like you very much, Harry. More than you think.”

Harry looked at me, his gaze intense. “Do you really mean that?”

I met his eyes, my voice steady. “I wouldn’t say it if it I didn’t.”

Harry’s gaze softened, his brow furrowing slightly as he struggled to find the right words. “Y/N, I need to be honest with you,” he said, his voice earnest. “I feel the same way you do. I am in awe of you, truly. And I have found this adoration for you outside of academic contexts. You mean so much to me and you don’t even know it” he laughed. “I find myself thinking about you day and night and I want to be more.

My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of his words sinking in. “You mean more than just as my professor, don’t you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the nervousness in my tone palpable.

Harry’s eyes searched mine, a mixture of vulnerability and hope in his gaze. “Way more than just your professor,” he said, his hands reaching out to hold mine gently. “I want you. I want you in ways I don’t think you’re ready to hear coming from my mouth. But I would never forgive myself if I forced my feelings onto you.” He said nervously, sweat appearing on his forehead.

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through me, and I held his hands tightly, trying to steady my racing heart and with it, calm him down. “I’ve been feeling the same way for a while now, and I’ve been thinking of you too. Thinking of things – inappropriate things. and you’re my professor, I mean” I admitted, my voice trembling with a mix of excitement and anxiety. “I was always afraid of how it might complicate things between us.”

Harry’s gaze was tender as he brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. “It doesn’t have to be complicated, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. “We can figure this out together.”

I felt a flutter in my chest at his touch, the electricity between us palpable. His hand lingered on my cheek, his thumb gently caressing my skin. “I’ve been so confused about how to handle this,” I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. “But hearing you say that makes me feel so much better.”

His eyes held a mix of vulnerability and determination as he leaned in closer. “I care about you, Y/N, more than just as a colleague or a student. I want to have you, I want to feel you. In every way I can. I want to savor every bit of you.” He said, slowly closing the space between us.

As his lips brushed mine, the kiss started off soft and sweet, a gentle exploration of feelings that had been building between us. But as the seconds passed, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and passionate. I could feel his need and longing, and it ignited a fire within me. I responded with equal fervor, losing myself in the intensity of the moment.

Suddenly, the kiss became overwhelming. I pulled away slightly, searching his eyes for some clarity. The passion that had ignited between us made me feel both exhilarated and slightly apprehensive.

“Harry,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against his. “Maybe we should find somewhere more private. Otherwise, someone might see that you’re kissing your student.”

His eyes were filled with understanding and affection as he nodded. “You’re right. But between you and me, you are so much more than my student,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I think I’m starting to understand that” I replied, my heart racing as I intertwined my fingers with his.

We walked hand-in-hand to the elevator, the anticipation building with each step. The elevator doors slid open, and as soon as we were inside, Harry’s lips met mine again, this time with an urgency that mirrored my own. The kiss was fierce and passionate, our bodies pressed together in a way that made the world outside disappear.

When the elevator reached our floor, we stumbled out, still wrapped up in each other. We made our way quickly to Harry’s room, our connection more intense than ever. As we reached his door, he unlocked it and pulled me inside, his hands never leaving mine.

In the privacy of his room, we continued to kiss, our passion for each other evident in every touch and embrace.

Our kisses were feverish and unrelenting, our breaths mingling as we paused briefly to catch our breath.

“I’ve thought about this,” he murmured between kisses, his lips lingering on mine.

“Yeah?” I responded, my voice breathless.

“Mhm,” he said, his hands sliding down to my waist, pulling me closer.

“What did you think about?” I asked, my fingers tangled in his hair.

“I thought about finally getting to kiss those lips,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. “About holding you like this, my hands on your waist, your hips, in your hair. About having you against me like this.”

“So have I,” I admitted, my heart racing.

“You have?” he asked, his lips brushing against mine, his eyes locked onto mine.

“Of course I have,” I breathed. “All those times we were alone in your office, I was wishing in my head that you would kiss me. That you would even undress me.”

“And what then?” he asked, his voice low and filled with anticipation.

I looked into his eyes, the intensity of the moment consuming me. “And then… and then you would do things to me.” His expression softened but his eyes darkened as they filled with lust.

“You really want that?” he searched my eyes to make sure

“Harry, I want more than anything to feel you, in every way possible.”

“Then I'm ready to give you everything you want. Just say the words,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

“Fuck me, Harry,” I said, watching a groan escape from his parted lips before they returned to mine, more urgent than ever.

“Jump,” he ordered. When I did, he lifted me effortlessly, allowing me to wrap my legs around him. My cardigan slipped to the floor as my hands found their way into his hair and around his neck.

As he lay me down on his bed, a rush of anticipation surged through me. He lifted me slightly to unzip my dress, slipping it down my body before releasing me back to the bed. I barely noticed where he discarded it before his hungry lips were on my neck again, trailing down to my breasts with sloppy kisses.

He began by kissing my cleavage, then wrapped his arms around me to strip off my bra. An eager gasp escaped his lips as he finally unveiled my breasts. With one hand on my left tit, he kissed the right one passionately, my nipple caught in his teeth. Despite the urgency, his touch remained soft as he licked and teased my sensitivity.

Finally, he looked up, his gaze softened entirely. “Y/N,” he said breathlessly, as if words were failing him.

“I,” he began, lips on the top of my stomach, just under my breasts, giving me a wet kiss.

“Am,” he continued, kissing just below the first one.

“So,” another kiss.

“In,” yet another kiss.

��Awe,” he said, finally looking up at my face, which rested on the mountain of hotel pillows that decorated his bed. “Of you, my angel.”

He finished, his fingertips grazing the inside of my black sheer leggings. Slowly, he pulled them down, lifting himself until he was almost upright to tear them away from my legs. I lifted my feet to help, and he tossed them aside, his eyes never leaving mine.

The moment hung between us, electric and tender. His hands roamed my body, exploring every inch with reverence and desire. As he leaned down, his lips met mine again, the kiss deepening with each passing second. The intensity of our connection was undeniable, and I knew that whatever happened next would be unforgettable.

I used the chance to lift myself up as well, unbuckling his belt. He removed his shirt to help me, revealing a toned and tattooed chest. By the time he was done, I was working on his pants, which he slid off the bed briefly to take off along with his shoes and socks. When I finally saw him, in nothing but briefs, I was struck by the sight of him.

For once, all his tattoos were on full display. I had briefly seen a few on his lower arms and, of course, the cross on the back of his hand, but never would I have guessed he was covered in ink. Swallows on his chest, a butterfly on his stomach, and an array of intricate designs and symbols covered his skin, telling stories I longed to hear.

When he noticed me staring, he smiled. "Do you like it?" he asked.

"I love it," I replied, my hand moving to his chest, feeling it heave under my touch. He returned to kiss me before lowering himself to the only clothed part of my body: my pussy.

"I'm going to take this off now, baby," he said, placing a finger on my clothed clit, feeling my wetness drench the thin black fabric. "And you're going to be a good girl for me, right?"

"Yes. Yes, Harry, I will be a good girl for you," I promised, my voice trembling with anticipation.

"Good. Now, you may squirm, and God knows how much I want to hear your pretty little moans. I've been dreaming of you moaning out my name, but you can't cum unless I tell you to. Understood?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Good girl," he said before placing a final kiss on the clothed fabric, another on the inside of my thigh, before pulling off my panties at once. The air shocked the area, making me gasp as he looked at me with a mixture of hunger and admiration.

He began by giving soft kisses on my clit, making me squirm just as he said it would. His hands gripped my thighs, and before I knew it, my legs were over his shoulders. I gasped and moaned at the feeling of his lips against me, my hands gripping the sheets.

“Harry, oh my god,” I gasped, my body arching towards him.

“Mmm, you taste so good, love,” he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my spine.

I felt him reach a hand up to mine, which was clenching the sheets. “Take off my rings for me, love,” he said, referring to the rings on his right ring finger and middle finger.

I did as he asked, my fingers trembling as I slid the rings off. He looked up from where his tongue was working magic on my pussy and simply said, “Atta girl,” which weirdly worked well with his accent.

His voice got thicker as his fingers returned to my wetness. “How many can you take?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” I said, breathless. “Only two, probably.”

He laughed knowingly. “You’re going to need much more than that to prepare for my dick, angel.”

“Do whatever you want with me, Harry, I just want to feel you,” I said, knowing that if he took off his briefs at that moment, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself from sucking him off, wanting to taste every bit of him.

Returning to the moment, I realized Harry was here, actually fucking me, and before I knew it, I felt two of his fingers inside my pussy, already hitting my G-spot carefully. I moaned, my hips moving against him.

“Fuck, Harry,” I whimpered, the sensation overwhelming me.

“You like that, don’t you?” he said, his voice a low growl. “Just wait until it’s my cock inside you.”

“Yes, please, I want it,” I begged, my body trembling with need.

He smirked, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on my G-spot. “Patience, love. I want to make sure you’re ready for me.”

I moaned louder, my hips moving desperately against his hand. “I’m ready, Harry, please.”

“Not yet, baby. I need to make you come first,” he said, his thumb brushing against my clit as his fingers worked inside me. The combination was too much, and I felt my orgasm building rapidly.

“Harry, I’m so close,” I gasped, my body tensing. “please” I begged, not knowing when he would let me come.

“That’s it, love. Come for me,” he whispered, his voice filled with command and desire.

With a final, skilled movement of his fingers and thumb, my body shattered around him, my orgasm crashing through me in waves. I screamed his name, my hips bucking wildly as I rode out the pleasure.

As I came down from my high, he slowly withdrew his fingers, licking them clean with a satisfied grin. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he said, his eyes dark with lust.

I pulled him up to kiss him, tasting myself on his lips. “Now, Harry, I need you inside me,” I said, my voice desperate and needy.

“Patience, love,” he murmured against my lips. “ I was just inside you” he teased as though he was truly oblivious to how desperate I was for his lips. “I’m going to make this worth the wait, sweetheart.”

He slowly removed his boxers, making me gasp at his length which sprang up against his stomach as soon as it was released, hard and aching for me. I reveled in the idea that I got him this hard, for me, and as though he could read my thoughts he said, "Look what you do to me, angel. Are you proud of how hard you've made your professor?"

I nodded, my eyes wide with a mix of awe and desire. “So proud,” I whispered, reaching out to touch him. His cock twitched under my fingers, and he let out a low groan.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. He leaned down to kiss me, his lips capturing mine in a heated embrace. I could feel the tension between us, the anticipation building with every touch.

I kept stroking him as we kissed, trying to distract myself from how much I wanted to put my mouth on his dick. Once I felt his precum drip over his entire length, I used it as a lubricant to stroke him harder, my grip tightening. He groaned into my mouth, his hips bucking slightly in response.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice strained with pleasure. “You’re driving me crazy.”

I smiled against his lips, feeling a surge of confidence. “Is that so?” I teased with an unknown confidence, my strokes becoming more deliberate, teasing the sensitive head before sliding down to the base.

“Yes,” he gasped, his hands gripping my hips as if to steady himself. “You have no idea.”

I moved my mouth to his neck, kissing and nibbling on his skin as I continued to work him with my hand. His breath hitched, and I felt a shiver run through his body.

“Harry,” I whispered, my lips brushing against his ear. “I want to taste you.”

He let out a deep groan, his eyes darkening with desire. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” I interrupted, my voice firm yet sultry. “Please, let me.”

He looked at me, his gaze intense and filled with lust. “Okay, angel,” he murmured, his hand gently caressing my cheek. “Anything you want.

I slid down his body, my lips trailing kisses along his chest and stomach. When I reached his hips, I looked up at him as he sat down for me, my eyes locking with his as I slowly placed kisses on his sensitive head before I finally took him into my mouth. His cock twitched against my tongue, and he let out a shaky breath.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his hand tangling in my hair. “You’re perfect.”

I moaned around him, the vibrations eliciting another deep groan from him. I took him deeper, my tongue swirling around his length as I bobbed my head. His grip on my hair tightened, guiding me as I pleasured him.

I glanced up at him, seeing the raw need in his eyes. His chest heaved with each breath, and his lips were slightly parted, his expression was one of pure ecstasy. I increased my pace, my hand working in tandem with my mouth as I used the other to grasp his balls, bringing him closer to the edge.

“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice trembling. “I’m so close.”

I pulled back slightly, my hand continuing to stroke him. “I want you to come for me, Harry,” I whispered, my voice filled with desire. “Please, I want to taste you.”

His eyes darkened even more, and with a final, shuddering breath, he willed himself to tear my hand away.

“Fuck,” he panted, his hand gently caressing my cheek as I looked up at him with teary eyes. “As much as I love what you’re doing, and the thought of coming in that beautiful dirty mouth that I never thought could do such obscene things, I don’t want to come until I am inside of you, my angel.”

He gently threw me back until my head hit the pillows again. “What a gorgeous sight, baby.” He moaned as he loomed over me, hands on my hips already.

His touch was both gentle and demanding, and I felt myself climbing higher and higher, the pleasure overwhelming. "Harry, please," I begged, my voice a breathless whisper. "I need you."

He looked up, his eyes filled with lust and affection. "I need you too, love," he said softly. "But remember, you have to be patient for me, my girl." He murmured as he reached a hand towards his nightstand, opening a drawer quickly to grab something.

I nodded, biting my lip to stifle my moans as he continued to tease me with his fingers. The anticipation was maddening, and I felt like I was on the edge of a precipice, waiting to fall.

When I moved my head to see what he was doing, I realized he was grabbing a condom, bringing it to his mouth as he used his teeth to unpackage the elastic. The sight sent a new wave of desire through me, my anticipation heightening with every second. He rolled the condom on with practiced ease, his eyes never leaving mine.

Finally, he moved back up my body, his cock pressing against my entrance. "Are you ready, angel?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes, Harry," I whispered, my hands gripping his shoulders. "Please."

He entered me slowly, stretching me in a way that felt both painful and exquisite. I gasped, my nails digging into his skin as he filled me completely. "You feel so good," he groaned, his forehead resting against mine. "So tight and perfect."

"Move, Harry," I urged, my body aching for more. "Please."

He began to thrust, each movement deliberate and powerful, driving me closer and closer to another orgasm.

His movements grew more urgent, his breathing ragged as he drove us both closer to the edge. "You’re incredible," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear.

Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through my body, making me arch against him. "Harry," I moaned, my voice trembling with need.

"That's it, baby," he panted, his lips trailing down to my neck, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive skin. "You’re doing so fucking well. Taking my cock so well my angel." He soothed me.

I could feel the coil tightening in my lower abdomen, the pressure building with each powerful thrust. "Harry, I'm so close," I whimpered, my hands moving to grip his back, my fingers digging into his muscles.

"Come for me, angel," he whispered, his voice low and commanding. "I want to feel you come around me."

His words sent me over the edge. My body tensed, my toes curling as my orgasm ripped through me, my walls clenching around him.

"That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his pace quickening as he chased his own release. "You're so perfect."

I could feel his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breathing harsher. "Harry," I whispered, my hands moving to cradle his face. "Come for me."

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside me, his body shuddering as he found his release. "Fuck, Y/N," he moaned, his forehead resting against mine as he rode out his orgasm.

We stayed like that for a moment, our bodies intertwined, our breathing slowly returning to normal. He pulled out gently, discarding the condom before collapsing next to me on the bed.

“You're incredible,” he said again, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words. “So are you, Harry. I can’t believe I was able to take you. You’re the biggest I’ve ever had.”

Harry's eyes widened slightly, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Is that so? Glad to hear I’m making an impression,” he said, his tone both teasing and affectionate.

I chuckled, feeling a mix of satisfaction and shyness. “Definitely making an impression,” I confirmed, my fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest. “It was more than I expected, but in the best way.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I know, I was overwhelmed too, your body is fucking incredible, you know that? Must be all that yoga.” He joked.

I laughed softly, playfully swatting his shoulder. “Oh, so you’re saying I should thank my yoga instructor for this?”

He nodded with a smirk. “Absolutely. And I have to say, your pussy is as phenomenal as your body. It’s been a pleasure getting to know it up close.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my smile. “Glad I could meet your high standards. You’re not too shabby yourself, Mr. Styles.” I said, surprised to earn a faint huff from his pretty pink lips.

The mention of his name clearly had an impact on him as it made his eyes darken with a mix of desire and amusement. He pulled me closer, his voice a low, heated whisper. “Oh, you’re playing with fire now, using my full name like that. It seems you’ve got a knack for turning me on.”

I grinned, feeling a playful thrill at his reaction. “Just giving you a taste of your own medicine, Mr. Styles.”

Harry’s hand slid down to rest on my lower back, his touch igniting a fire between us. “Well, I must say, you��ve got quite the talent for it. You’re making it very hard for me to keep my composure.”

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, “You’ve got me all worked up, Harry. It’s only fair you return the favor.”

He grinned, his fingers lightly tracing my arm. “Well, I’m glad you think so. I’d hate to disappoint after all the anticipation.”

I leaned in closer, teasing him. “So, was I everything you hoped for? Or do you have any complaints?”

Harry chuckled, his lips brushing against my ear. “No complaints at all. Everything was perfect. In fact, I think I need to get to know that body of yours even better. Maybe a few more yoga sessions are in order.”

I playfully raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation for more intimate… workouts?”

“Definitely,” he said, his voice full of promise. “And trust me, I’m looking forward to every single session.”

We both laughed, the light-hearted banter easing any lingering tension. Harry’s hand continued to caress my back, his touch tender and affectionate. I snuggled closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my cheek.

“So, any other compliments I should know about?” I asked, looking up at him with a teasing smile.

Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, just that you’re absolutely incredible. And I’m one lucky guy to have you here with me.”

I felt a rush of warmth at his words, and I leaned in to kiss him softly. “Well, I’m pretty lucky, too. I’m glad we finally got this chance.”

Harry’s gaze softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Me too, angel. Let’s stay like this for a while. No rush, no pressure. Just us.”

“Yes,” I agreed, my fingers tracing the lines of his tattoos. “Let’s. Maybe I’ll finally get to know the stories behind all these tattoos.”

Harry’s eyes lit up with a mix of amusement and intrigue. “Oh, you’re in for quite the storytelling session,” he said, his tone teasing. “But we don’t have enough time tonight. I already kept you up and you need your beauty sleep.” He joked, as if the final tournament weren’t tomorrow, or I guess, today seeing as it was almost two in the morning.”

We lay there, entwined, our breaths slowly evening out as the intensity of the moment faded. His hands gently caressed my back, his touch light and soothing. I could feel his warmth radiating against me, a comforting presence that made me feel safe and cherished.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, he shifted slightly, reaching for a nearby box of tissues. He carefully cleaned me up, his movements tender and considerate. “I hope that was okay,” he murmured again, his eyes searching mine with a hint of concern. I worried that maybe regret was setting in.

“It was more than okay,” I replied, my voice soft and filled with affection. “It was amazing.”

He smiled, his eyes lighting up with a mix of relief and happiness. “I’m glad,” he said, his hand brushing along my arm in a soothing gesture. And so was I, realizing that he wasn’t feeling guilty after all.

He kissed my forehead gently, his lips lingering in a tender touch. “You’re something else, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “I never expected to do this.”

I snuggled closer to him, my head resting on his chest. “Neither did I,” I confessed. “But I’m really glad we did.

He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as if afraid to let go. “Me too,” he whispered. “I want to make sure you’re okay.” He said again, clearly anxious about my feelings.

“I am,” I reassured him, my fingers tracing small patterns on his chest. “Just enjoying being here with you.”

He sighed contentedly, his hand gently stroking my hair. “Now get some sleep, angel” He finally said.

“Okay,” I murmured, my eyes already growing heavy. “But just one more kiss before we fall asleep?”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with affection. “I think I can manage that.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. It was a sweet promise of the connection we shared, a reminder of the intimacy that had brought us together. As we settled into a comfortable embrace, the quiet hum of the city outside became a soothing lullaby.

With his arms securely around me, I closed my eyes, feeling a profound sense of contentment. In Harry’s embrace, I felt like I had found a piece of home, a place where I belonged.

—————— ——————————————————————

I didn’t feel myself falling asleep; it washed over me so naturally, like a gentle tide pulling me into a serene, dreamless rest. Normally, I had to fantasize about Harry until I was too exhausted to stay awake, but tonight was different. I was enveloped in a cocoon of comfort and warmth, his arms around me making me feel safe and cherished. It was as if nothing else mattered.

When I awoke, it was to an empty bed. The space beside me was cold, and a pang of worry shot through me. I usually never got up for anything in the middle of the night, but the absence of his warmth made me uneasy. I slipped out from under the covers, searching for my underwear and bra, but they were nowhere to be found. I ended up pulling on one of Harry’s shirts, the fabric hanging loosely on me, and padded across the cold floor, shivering slightly as I walked toward the balcony.

As I approached the sliding glass doors, I heard Harry’s voice, raised in frustration. “Yes, I know that, Horan,” he spat into the phone. “Don’t you think I’m aware of the code of conduct? Maybe I haven’t been a professor here as long as you have, but I know the rules.”

I paused, hidden behind the door, trying to piece together the conversation. Harry’s tone was defensive, his words filled with exasperation. “I didn’t call you to gloat. You know I didn’t.” he said but I couldn’t piece together what professor Niall Horan was saying on the other end of the line. Until:

“I guess I just called you to talk about it. I am freaking out mate.” He said, making me shudder at what he might think of me now, at how things will be.

“Yes, Niall of coursed I asked her. Before and after.” He said like he was hurrying to defend himself in between Niall’s questions. “No I didn’t tell her that. There was no reason to, but she knew. She knew she could leave and that we could stop but trust me it takes two and she was definitely as complicit as I was.” He said before being silent for a long time.

Finally: “I was not trying to be a dickhead, okay? I didn’t think about the power dynamics but either way, she gets good marks, she wouldn’t have been scared to tell me no. Either way what’s done is done. I already slept with her. What is there to do now? I can’t undo what I did.”

My heart sank as I listened, the realization of the situation hitting me with a sharp sting. I turned to walk away, feeling ashamed, scared, and hurt. The cold floor beneath my feet seemed to echo my anxiety until my knee cracked loudly, causing me to wince. Harry’s voice abruptly cut off as he heard the sound, and he quickly hung up the phone.

“Y/N?” he called, his voice tinged with concern as he turned toward me. I stayed silent, not meeting his gaze. “Did you hear that?”

I nodded, feeling a surge of emotion. “Yes, I heard.”

Without saying a word, I began to remove his shirt, searching desperately for my bra. Harry stepped forward, his expression a mixture of frustration and regret. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I just... I didn’t know how to explain.”

“Was this just a one-night stand?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Did you only want me for tonight, and now you’re done?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Harry said quickly. “If it were, I wouldn’t have let you sleep here. I care about you, Y/N.”

“Oh, really?” I snapped, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “How noble of you, Harry. Thanks for letting me sleep here after sleeping with me.” I said because it was not even up for discussion, of course I was going to sleep with him, it was the least we could do. Not just as a favor to me – as to avoid stumbling back to my room, half-dressed at 2AM, but as a way to spend time together, to hold each other as a non-verbal agreement that we were content and happy and there for each other.

His face fell, but he tried to maintain his composure. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just... I didn’t plan this. It’s more complicated than that.”

“Complicated?” I echoed, feeling tears well up. “Is that what this was all about? The dynamics, my beauty, or maybe because I’m smart? Were you just tempted?”

Harry stepped closer, his voice softer. “No, it’s not just lust. I’ve developed real feelings for you. It’s not just about physical attraction.”

“But then why were you talking to Niall like that?” I asked, my voice breaking. “What, now that the novelty is gone, you’re going to leave too?”

“Do you think you’re just a hookup to me?” Harry asked, his eyes widening in hurt.

“I don’t know,” I replied, my voice filled with anguish. “But if you’re planning on ignoring me and leaving me completely, what does that make me? How do I go back to class now? How do we continue our friendship or even our professional relationship if I’m just a source of guilt for you?”

I knew I was unreasonable. That he was probably feeling the weight of his job and the complexities of managing a relationship with a student, but the fear of the unknown possibilities, one of them being him getting fired or penalized in some way, worried me. And I was more worried that under the pressure of a job he is so passionate about, he would be willing to let me go. And that would make me feel like a one night stand, because everything would fade away after a tipsy night together.

Harry’s face was a mixture of pain and resolve. “You’re not just a source of guilt. I genuinely care about you, Y/N. I just need to figure out how to make things right.”

I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed. “So I am a source of guilt? Among other things but still, you’re guilty?” I said searching for an expression amidst his anxious disposition. “I need more than just words, Harry. I need to know where we stand. I need to understand if this is something real or if I’m just a temporary distraction.”

His expression softened, and he reached out to touch my arm gently. “I want to make this work. I truly do. But I understand if you need time to process everything.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “I just need clarity. Right now, all I have is confusion and hurt.”

Harry nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and hope. “I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that I’m committed to this, to us. Just give me a chance.”

We stood there, the weight of the situation hanging heavy between us. The cold air from the balcony seemed to mirror the chill in my heart, but there was a flicker of warmth, a hope that maybe, despite everything, we could find a way through this tangled mess of emotions and uncertainty.

“Look, it’s late,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. “And we’re both tired. Let’s just get some sleep.”

I went to grab my clothes, feeling the weight of the night’s events pressing heavily on me. As I began slipping on my dress, Harry’s eyes followed me, his expression shifting from confusion to concern when he saw that I wasn’t just putting on my underwear but was dressing fully.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

“It’s best if I sleep in my room,” I replied, trying to sound as composed as possible. “I need some space to clear my head.”

Harry’s face fell, a mix of guilt and distress evident in his features. “Y/N, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you.”

I could see the pent-up emotion in his eyes, the frustration and regret that mirrored my own feelings. “I know, Harry. But I need some time to think. This isn’t something we can just gloss over.”

He reached out, his hand hovering in the air before he dropped it, clearly conflicted. “Please, don’t go. I want to work this out.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Look, I’ll leave you my spare key card. You can come to my room tomorrow morning before we meet for practice.”

Harry nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and apprehension. “I will. I promise. I’ll be there.”

I walked to the small table where I had left the key card and handed it to him. “Goodnight, Harry.”

As I turned to leave, he reached out and gently touched my arm. “Please, don’t think that this changes how I feel about you.”

I gave him a small, weary smile, feeling the ache of the night’s events. “I know. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

I made my way back to my room, my mind racing with thoughts and questions about the future. When I finally lay down in my bed, the silence was almost deafening. The warmth and safety I had felt earlier were now replaced with a deep sense of uncertainty. Despite the exhaustion tugging at my eyelids, sleep was elusive, my mind replaying the night’s events over and over.

I woke up feeling the heavy weight of last night’s unresolved tension pressing down on me. The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the heater. I forced myself out of bed, the events of the previous night replaying in my mind. I needed to start my day, even if it felt impossible.

I stepped into the shower, the hot water cascading over me, trying to wash away the lingering anxiety and uncertainty. I let the steam envelop me, hoping it would clear my thoughts. As I dried off and began to style my hair, I focused on the routine as a distraction, meticulously curling and arranging each strand, applying makeup with steady hands despite the tumultuous emotions beneath.

I ordered a breakfast bowl from room service, hoping that the normalcy of breakfast might ease the sting. I even thought of Harry and how he liked his breakfast: eggs and black coffee. I ordered those for him, too, placing them beside my own meal, hoping he’d show up and we could discuss what had happened.

But as the minutes ticked by and my breakfast grew colder, Harry’s absence became more pronounced. The food was untouched, the coffee growing cold, and my heart sank further with each passing minute.

Finally, Anika’s text came through: “Everyone’s downstairs waiting for you. Even Harry.”

My stomach twisted at the mention of Harry. The realization that he hadn’t shown up was a fresh wound, deepened by the thought of him making me look bad and embarrass me by not being there. I’d spent the morning waiting for him, hoping for a resolution that never came.

I took a deep breath, grabbed my stuff, and headed downstairs. As I walked through the hotel lobby, I could feel the stares and whispers, my unease growing with every step. The team was gathered in a cluster, and Harry was among them, engaged in conversation with a group of people. He looked composed and detached, a stark contrast to the turmoil I felt inside.

Anika immediately noticed me and came over, her eyes sharp with concern. “Hey, the debate topic was announced. We don’t have much time. You look rough, Y/N. What happened?”

I gave her a tired smile, knowing she could always read me better than anyone. “Something happened with Harry last night,” I admitted quietly, my voice heavy. “But we can’t talk about it now. Let’s discuss it after the tournament.”

Anika nodded, her face reflecting a mix of sympathy and curiosity. “Okay, we’ll talk later. Let’s get through this.”

As we joined the team for practice, I couldn’t help but notice Harry’s avoidance. He seemed distant, his demeanor colder than usual. Every interaction felt strained, as though he was trying to keep a deliberate distance. It was clear that something had changed, and the tension between us was palpable.

Despite my efforts to focus on practice, the weight of the morning’s events and Harry’s apparent coldness overshadowed everything. The anticipation of the debate and the upcoming celebration party felt hollow, a stark contrast to the excitement I had felt just a day before.

Throughout the practice, Harry’s demeanor remained defensive, his interactions clipped and formal. It was clear that the connection we had shared was now a chasm filled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

Anika found me sitting alone in a corner, trying to steady my nerves. She approached with a concerned look, her eyes searching mine for reassurance.

“Hey, Y/N,” she started, her voice gentle but firm. “I know things have been a bit...off lately. Are you sure you’re up for leading the debate today? You look pretty shaken.”

I looked up, meeting her gaze with determination. “I’m fine, Anika. I can do this. I know it’s been rough, but I’m ready to lead. I’ve got this.”

Anika nodded, her face softening with a supportive smile. “Alright, if you’re sure. Just remember, you’ve got this. We all believe in you.” She said as we made our way to the hall.

The tournament hall was abuzz with energy as teams prepared for their debates. The atmosphere was charged with intensity, and my nerves were a tangle of excitement and dread.

Midway through my opening statements, I glanced up and saw Harry sitting in the audience. My heart skipped a beat, and I momentarily froze, struggling to gather my thoughts. The sight of him, a reminder of the unresolved tension between us, was almost too much to handle. I could feel the weight of his gaze, adding pressure to an already challenging situation.

I managed to pull myself together, but the distraction happened again and again throughout the debate. Each time I saw Harry, my focus wavered, and I could sense the team’s score slipping as a result. I cast a desperate glance at Anika, who nodded in understanding.

“Anika, I need you to step up,” I whispered urgently. “I’m losing it up here. Can you take over?”

Without hesitation, Anika took the lead, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. As she spoke with confidence and clarity, I found myself more relaxed and able to contribute effectively as a supporting member. The pressure of being in the spotlight was lifted, and I made stronger arguments, though the unease still lingered in the back of my mind.

Finally, as the debate concluded, the results were announced. Our team had won. The relief and triumph were palpable, but I couldn’t shake the anxiety that my earlier performance had almost cost us the victory.

Harry approached, a look of mixed concern and congratulations on his face. “Congratulations, Y/N. You did great, despite...”

I cut him off, grabbing my things and heading towards Anika. “Thanks, Harry. I need to go.”

Anika and I headed to her room, the quiet and familiarity offering a respite from the day’s chaos. We got ready for the party as I tried to tell her everything, sparing her the details of me and one of her own professors.

As we sat on the edge of the bed, I recounted everything that had happened. “I thought I was falling in love with him, Anika. It’s so embarrassing. I don’t even know how to process it.”

Anika listened patiently, offering a comforting presence. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to feel how you’re feeling. We’ll figure it out.”

Just then, my phone buzzed with a series of texts from Harry. I glanced at the screen, my heart sinking as I read his messages:

Hey, Y/N. Can we talk?

I just left your bedroom.

Is there any more to do?

I know there’s a party, but I’m hoping you’ll come around.

Just let me know ill be at your door.

Please. I really hope you’ll come around.

Please just let me know, I’m on the floor.

Maybe we’ll work it out.

I just gotta get better at this.

But still, we need to talk about this, or else we never will. It will become something we don’t do, ever.

Cause once you go without it nothing else will do.

Meet me in the hallway, Y/N.

I stared at my phone, struggling to make sense of Harry's messages. The words seemed to jumble together, each text blurring into the next. The thought of him sitting outside my door, slumped against the wall with his phone in hand, sent a pang of confusion and empathy through me. How desperate must he have felt to use my key card to get in and to send these pleading texts?

Yet, Harry's messages seemed to be an emotional puzzle I couldn’t quite piece together. The need to resolve things was overwhelming. If I didn’t confront him now, he might be right—perhaps this was our last chance to address what had happened between us. Ignoring it would mean losing whatever we had built, potentially ending our connection for good.

I knew that if we didn’t talk, our relationship—whether personal or professional—might never recover. The thought of walking away without understanding where we stood left me unsettled. I realized I needed to face him, to hear him out and try to make sense of everything. Only then could I decide whether we had a future or if it was truly over.

Determined, I took a deep breath and made my way towards the hallway, resolving to find out what Harry truly wanted to say.

I stepped out of the elevator and into the dimly lit hallway, the soft chime of the doors closing behind me fading into the background. The hallway stretched out before me, a quiet, almost eerie space illuminated by the occasional flickering light. My heart raced as I saw him—Harry—sitting at the end of the corridor, his back resting against my door. His posture was slumped, his legs sprawled out in front of him. The exhaustion etched on his face was unmistakable, and his eyes were fixed on his hands, which rested in his lap.

He looked weary, almost broken, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy as I approached him. The way he sat there, isolated in the dim hallway, spoke volumes about how troubled he must have been. The soft, muted light from the hallway accentuated the dark circles under his eyes and the tense lines on his face. His disheveled hair and rumpled clothes suggested he had been there for a while, lost in his thoughts and waiting for a chance to make things right.

I dropped down beside him, my knees brushing against the cold floor. Without saying a word, I reached out and gently took his hand in mine. The contact seemed to stir him from his reverie. He looked up, his eyes meeting mine with a mixture of relief and apprehension.

“Harry,” I said softly, my voice breaking the silence. “Get up.”

He blinked, the surprise in his eyes giving way to a tender vulnerability. “Y/N?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, my gaze steady despite the hurt I felt.

His face fell, and he looked down at the floor, his expression one of deep regret. I reached out and helped him to his feet, his hand still clasped in mine. As he stood, I unlocked the door, the soft click of the lock echoing in the quiet hallway.

“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course you can, Harry,” I replied, trying to keep my tone as warm as I could manage. “It’s what I want.”

We stepped into the room, and I closed the door behind us, the soft click signaling our transition into a more private space. He stood there, looking around the room as if seeing a hotel room for the first time, his emotions palpable. I gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed while I took a seat next to him, our hands still intertwined.

“Are you okay?” He finally spoke.

“I’m fine,” I replied, though my voice wavered slightly. “But I’m disappointed you didn’t show up this morning.”

His face fell, and he looked down at the ground, clearly pained. “I didn’t mean to let you down. I got caught up with Niall last night...” he tried to defend until finally he relented, I could tell by the change in his expression which was more honest now.

I looked at him, the ache of disappointment still fresh. “I was waiting for you, Harry. I wanted to see you. You said you’d come by before practice, and when you didn’t, it felt like... like you didn’t care.”

He shook his head, his eyes filled with remorse. “No, Y/N, that’s not it at all. I was just... overwhelmed. Niall was really laying into me, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I know that’s no excuse, but it’s the truth.”

I nodded slowly, processing his words. “What did Niall say?”

“He... he was furious. He didn’t hold back. He told me I was breaking all sorts of rules, that I should’ve known better. And he’s right. I know it was wrong. I didn’t call him to brag or to make excuses. I just needed someone to talk to, and it turned into this whole argument.”

He slowly began again, “He called me. It was an hour earlier in Manchester and he had just gotten home. I wasn’t going to tell him at first but then he made a joke about how I’m holding up while on this trip with you, pining for you and –” he spoke as if afraid of his own feelings for me. “that’s when I told him.”

I frowned, feeling the sting of his earlier words. “So, you were talking about me?”

“Yes,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “He was right about one thing—this has to stay a secret. At least until next year, when I’m no longer your professor.”

The gravity of his confession hung between us. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. “Is that what I am to you, Harry? A secret?”

“No, it’s not that simple,” he said urgently, his voice cracking. “You’re not just a secret or a one-night stand. I—” He paused, searching for the right words. “I was afraid. Afraid that I’d ruin everything, that I’d lose you. I thought if I could just get through this, we could find a way to make it work.”

I looked down at my hands, my mind racing. “But what if that’s not enough? What if I’m just a fleeting distraction? You were saying with Niall...”

Harry’s face contorted with frustration and sadness. “No, Y/N, that’s not how I see you. But you have to understand that it actually is complicated. My job is on the line, and your reputation. I know it’s a 10 year age gap but everyone will still know you as the girl who slept with her older professor. But you’re not a secret. We would have to take it slow the next term, obviously. And for us too, I mean I will take you on a proper date, believe me I’ve wanted to do that before sleeping with you, but we can’t exactly be the most public. Maybe next year we could be more public if you were ready to not take any more classes with me, and for the scrutiny we would face, because I would be. I am willing to deal with anything, I would work through any conflict with the university for you.”

“Wait, you have really thought about this haven’t you? Logistics and all?” I asked.

“Of course I have, I told you, you are not a one night stand. You have been the only thing making me this happy Y/N. All year, you have been the source of my joy, even if all I get is a glance one day and a stroke on my arm another day. I will have you in anyway you would let me, just please stay in my life.” He looked at me as I was trying to believe him.

Finally, he cupped my cheek and said, “If it wasn’t clear already, I have been falling madly in love with you. I love you Y/N, with all my heart.”

The intensity of his confession, combined with the raw honesty of his words, made my heart ache. I reached up and gently cupped his face, my thumbs brushing away the stray tears that had begun to trail down his cheeks. “I love you too, Harry,” I said, my voice trembling with emotion.

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and desperation. The gravity of our feelings pulled us closer together, and as we leaned in, our breaths mingling, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of us in this fragile, sacred space.

Our lips finally met in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The initial touch was soft, exploratory, as if we were both savoring the long-awaited contact. His lips moved gently against mine, his kiss full of the longing and regret he had expressed. I responded in kind, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, growing more intense as we both gave in to the emotions we had been holding back. His hands slid up to cup my face, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were afraid to break the spell. I felt a surge of warmth and love as he pulled me even closer, his body pressed against mine.

We broke apart slowly, our foreheads resting against each other, breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. The kiss had been a release, a way to bridge the gap that had grown between us. As we looked into each other's eyes, the words were no longer necessary. We both knew what this meant and where we stood.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated softly, his eyes searching mine for any sign of lingering doubt. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

I smiled, the last traces of tension melting away. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “You love me?” I asked, though it sounded more like a statement I was repeating to reassure myself.

“Yes, Y/N, I love you. So fucking much that it aches.”

“You love me.” I said again more confidently. “God and I love you too, to bits and pieces.”

In that fragile, intense moment, our world seemed to shrink to just the space we occupied together. With a trembling breath, he closed the distance between us, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.

His kiss was full of longing, each press of his lips a silent plea for forgiveness and a promise of something more. It was as if he was pouring all his heartache and love into that one contact, his kisses alternately soft and urgent. I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin, the fervor in his touch as he cradled my face, his fingers splayed against the sides of my neck. It was a kiss that spoke of regret and hope, of an intense, almost overwhelming desire to make things right.

My hands moved instinctively, sliding from his neck and through his hair down to his collar. My fingers fumbled for a moment with the buttons of his shirt, the need to be closer to him driving me forward. I could feel his heartbeat quicken beneath my touch, his breath hitching as I managed to open the shirt, exposing his chest.

He pulled back slightly, his brow furrowed in concern. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “We don’t have to—”

I cut him off, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of feelings inside me. “I want nothing more, Harry, than to love you.”

His eyes locked onto mine, the vulnerability in them giving way to a deep, earnest emotion. The sincerity in his gaze was a balm to the tumult inside me. As I removed his shirt completely, the urgency and tenderness of our connection grew even more palpable.

With a mixture of hesitance and yearning, we drew closer again. Our lips met with a renewed intensity, the kiss deepening as we both gave in to the moment. His hands roamed over my back, pulling me closer, his touch both reverent and possessive.

As I sat beside him on the bed, the charged atmosphere between us crackled with intensity. His hands were careful and deliberate as he began to slip my cashmere sweater off. Each movement was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment of this unwrapping.

When the sweater was finally off, his gaze fell on the collared shirt I wore underneath. A smirk played at his lips as he looked at me with a teasing glint in his eyes. “God, woman, how many layers are you hiding under there?” His voice was husky with a mix of desire and amusement.

I met his gaze with a playful smile, my fingers already reaching for the buttons of my shirt. “This is the last one,” I teased, unfastening the buttons one by one.

As the shirt came off, revealing my bare chest, his eyes widened in appreciation. “No bra?” he said, his voice low and tinged with surprise. “You’re killing me.”

A soft laugh escaped my lips, filled with both nervousness and anticipation. “I figured you’d appreciate the surprise,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his lips to my skin, his kisses trailing a path of fire down my chest. Each touch of his lips was electric, causing shivers to cascade down my spine. His mouth was warm and firm, brushing against my sensitive skin as he explored every inch with tender reverence.

Unable to hold back any longer, I guided him gently until he was lying back on the bed. His head rested on the pillows, and I straddled him, feeling the heat of his body against mine. I leaned down to kiss him, our lips meeting in a fervent, hungry embrace. The kiss was deep and full of longing, our breaths mingling as our tongues danced together.

I broke the kiss just enough to press a heated mark on his lower neck, my lips lingering with a firm, deliberate pressure. He groaned softly, a sound that fueled the fire within me. My kisses continued their descent down his chest, my lips tracing the lines of his tattoos with reverent care.

“These tattoos,” I murmured between kisses, my breath warm against his skin, “You’re so fucking hot.” I said slowly and breathlessly.

He responded with a deep, appreciative chuckle, his hands gripping my hips as I explored him. “They’re nothing compared to you,” he said, his voice a mix of admiration and need.

With a mix of anticipation and eagerness, I began to slip his pants down. As I worked, he lifted his hips to assist, his eyes never leaving mine, filled with a desperate need that mirrored my own.

Once his pants were discarded, I paused for a moment, my hand resting on the waistband of his briefs. I could feel the heat radiating from him, and his breathing grew shallow with anticipation. His cock was already straining against the fabric, a hint of its length visible.

“You’re taking care of me so well,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

I looked up at him, my eyes softening with affection and desire. “Anything for the man I love,” I whispered, my voice filled with sincerity.

Slowly, I palmed him through the fabric of his briefs, feeling the heat and firmness of his growing arousal. I leaned down, placing tender kisses along his V-line and lower stomach, my lips brushing over the sensitive skin of his thighs. Each kiss was deliberate, making him whimper and writhe with barely-contained need.

Finally, I tugged his briefs down, revealing him fully. As the fabric slipped away, his cock sprang out, partially erect and throbbing with need. The sight of him, vulnerable and exposed, only heightened my own anticipation. The head was already glistening with pre-cum, and I could see the veins running along the length of his shaft, pulsing with every beat of his heart.

His body tensed, and he let out a desperate groan as I looked at him with a mixture of admiration and desire. The sight of him, so eagerly waiting, made my own need intensify.

He moaned softly as I began to lick up and down his shaft, placing little kisses everywhere and using one hand to stroke the bottom as I teased his head.

“Such a fucking tease” he remarked breathlessly though I knew he was enjoying what I was doing with my tongue, intending to savor him more than I did last night.

I continued to lick at his slit before he moaned “Y/N please, I need you.”

“Need me to what, Harry?” I asked innocently.

“I need your mouth, please – ”

Before he could continue I took him in my mouth at once, bobbing my head until I could feel him in the back of my throught, my eyes tearing up slightly as my hair fell down to drape my face. He somehow managed to pull himself up, despite rolling his head back in pleasure only a few seconds prior, and grabs my hair, willing it into a tight ponytail with one hand, using the opportunity to reach his long arm to place his other hand on my boob, grabbing it harshly as I continued to pleasure him, his dick pulsating in my mouth.

Finally I stopped to stand on my knees, the excitement of the moment coursing through me. I quickly removed my skirt, tossing it aside with a playful flick. As I positioned myself over him, I looked down into Harry's eyes with a mix of anticipation and affection. He was already sprawled out on the bed, his breathing heavy and eager.

With a teasing smile, I placed my hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him back until he was lying against the bed. He looked up at me with a mix of desire and admiration, his eyes locked on mine as if trying to memorize every detail.

I positioned myself over him, my knees bracketing his hips, and took a moment to enjoy the way he was watching me. His cock was already hard and waiting, twitching slightly with every move I made. I rubbed my clit against the tip of his cock, eliciting soft moans from both of us as the sensation made me shiver with pleasure.

Harry’s voice was rough, filled with need. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his eyes searching mine for confirmation.

I leaned forward, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “I want nothing more than to be with you, Harry. This is what I want.”

I was poised over him, my heart racing with anticipation. Harry’s eyes locked onto mine, a mix of desperation and adoration. “Do you have a condom?” he asked, his voice rough.

I bit my lip, shaking my head. “Shit, no. But I’m on birth control.”

His expression softened with relief, though the hunger in his gaze remained. “I’m okay with going raw,” he said, his voice filled with raw intensity. “I want to feel you fully. I want to feel myself inside you, filling you up.” He said, making me smile wide.

“Anything for you, Mr. Styles.” I teased making him moan before lowering myself onto him in one smooth motion.

I gasped as he filled me, the sensation of being stretched and full making me moan softly. I began to move, my hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles as I found a rhythm that felt right. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me as I rode him, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

The heat between us was electric, every thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of us. Harry’s hands roamed over my body, his fingers exploring my curves as he whispered praise and affection.

Harry’s moans grew louder with each thrust, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he guided me. “You feel so amazing,” he groaned, his eyes never leaving mine. “God, I can’t get enough of you.”

I bit my lip, focusing on the pleasure building within me. “You feel so incredible inside me, Harry,” I whispered, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

As the intensity of our movements built, I began to tire, my energy waning. Harry sensed it and took over, his hips bucking up to meet mine with an urgent, powerful rhythm. The sensation was overwhelming, my body trembling with every thrust.

He gripped my hips more firmly than before, his voice husky with desire. “I loved having you ride me, but now it’s time to fuck my princess like she deserves.”

With a swift, practiced motion, Harry flipped us over, his body pressing mine into the mattress. He took control, thrusting into me with a relentless pace that left me breathless and desperate. “You’re mine, angel,” he murmured, his voice a heated whisper in my ear. “I want to make you feel everything.”

As his rhythm became more intense, I felt a familiar pressure building inside me. I could no longer hold back, and I came with a shuddering cry, my body clenching around him. The feeling of my orgasm triggered Harry’s release, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he moaned deeply.

“Fuck, Y/N, my angel,” he groaned, his voice filled with both pleasure and awe. He collapsed onto me, his body pressing into mine as he emptied himself inside me. The sensation of him coming within me was almost too much to bear, and I clung to him, my own body still trembling from the aftershocks of my orgasm.

We lay there, entwined and panting, the world outside forgotten. Harry pulled out slowly, his movements gentle and careful as he retrieved a wet towel from the bathroom. He returned and cleaned me up with tender care, his touch soft and reassuring.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” he murmured as he gently wiped away the traces of our passion. “You were amazing.”

I smiled, my heart full as I watched him clean me with such tenderness. “Thank you, baby. I feel so good, euphoric.”

“Good. I want to make you feel like that always, my love” he said, and before I could reply “Lets clean up, yeah?”

We made our way to the shower, the warm water cascading down over us as we stepped under the stream. Harry pulled me close, his hands gently tracing along my back as he started to lather soap into a sponge.

“Here, let me help you,” he said, his voice tender as he began washing my body. He took his time, his touch soft and careful, as if he were savoring every moment.

“Harry, you’re making me feel like royalty,” I laughed, tilting my head back to let the water run over my face.

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, if I’m going to pamper you, I might as well do it right.”

He moved his hands in slow, deliberate circles, starting from my shoulders and working his way down. His fingers caressed my arms, then slid down to my waist, paying special attention to every curve. He was gentle, making sure the soap was thoroughly rinsed off.

“You’re so meticulous,” I teased, laughing as his hands moved lower. “I didn’t realize I was getting a full-service treatment.”

Harry smirked, his gaze lingering on me with affectionate amusement. “I aim to please. Plus, I want to make sure you’re clean and comfortable before we get out of here.”

As he continued to wash me, his hands occasionally brushing against my skin in a way that made me shiver pleasantly. He took extra care around my neck and shoulders, where he knew I liked it best. Each touch was tender and loving, and I found myself smiling as I relaxed under his care.

“Is this what you do every time you’re in the shower?” I asked playfully, raising an eyebrow.

“Only for the people I love,” he replied, his voice warm. “And right now, you’re the lucky one.”

After he finished washing me, he turned to grab the towel and started drying me off, his movements gentle as he patted my skin dry. The soft fabric of the towel felt comforting against my body, and Harry’s careful attention made me feel cherished.

Once we were both dry, Harry pulled on his boxers and I slipped into a pair of cute pajamas—a matching set of black pants and a black tank top with lace on the neckline. Harry’s eyes lit up with admiration as he saw me.

“Well, don’t you look gorgeous, angel” he said, his voice full of affection. “I think I’m in love with these pajamas. They’re almost as cute as you.”

I leaned in for a kiss, feeling content and happy in his embrace. “And you look pretty good in just boxers, you know.”

He chuckled, giving me a quick peck on the lips. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

We settled onto the bed, still wrapped in each other’s arms, enjoying the peaceful intimacy of the moment. It felt perfect—like everything was exactly where it should be.

“Do you want to talk to Anika now?” he asked, his voice soft and full of care.

I shook my head with a smile. “No, I’ll catch up with her tomorrow. Right now, I just want to be here with you.”

Harry nodded, his smile warm as he held me close. “I’m glad. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Harry,” I whispered, snuggling into his side. “Always.”

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

hope you enjoyed reading this :)

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles story #harry styles fanfic

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timeslugarts · 6 months

Text

Core Competency

Vox x Fem!Reader

(NSFW)

You and Vox have a little competition on if you can last all the way through your meeting. (Also known as you have a Voxtech vibrator in you during a mandatory meeting)

A/N - Based around @voxsremotec0ck post, I hope this is good. Also, if you want a part 2, I could maybe do that. Also the buisness jargon was making me laugh so much.

It was the weekly end of sales report meeting. You as well as other execs from different sectors had to report directly to the big boss himself. If your numbers were in the red he would probably kill you, but it did give you the chance to beg for your life at least.

You always had the highest grossing sales amongst your peers so you weren't worried… about that at least.

What no one else knew was you and the boss man had a secret arrangement. You and him would rendezvous regularly for some one on one, "interpersonal relationship" training.

That's why when Vox called you in 5 minutes before the weekly report, you were a little confused. There was no way 5 minutes was enough time to "complete your tasks." Vox explained thoroughly that if you were a good girl and did what he said, then an extra special bonus could be in your future. You agreed eagerly, of course, not wanting to disappoint your boss.

That's why you were now sitting in the boardroom, surrounded by your coworkers with a vibrator inside of you controlled by your boss, who was currently talking about sales.

In the beginning the constant thrum of it was almost easy to ignore, you felt pretty confident about getting your after meeting bonus. All you had to do was make it the entire meeting without cumming.

When it was your turn to proudly discuss your sector's income report Vox's grin grew malicious. No one noticed however because all eyes were on you, that's when he turned the tiny pill to max.

You gasped, hunching over the table, papers scattering. The person next to you hopped up, putting their hand on your shoulder. You immediately shrugged it off. You couldn't bear the idea of anyone but him touching you right now.

"Are you ok?" They asked, voice laced with concern.

"Y… yeah I'm fine, just a dizzy spell, I'll be ok." You felt the slick between your legs growing, heat climbing up your neck.

"You sure doll?" Vox grinned leaning forward, claws crossed in front of him, "You're looking awfully flushed, maybe you should go home?" Red lines drooling from his teeth as he continued to stare at you, eyes shining with delight.

"No, I'm fine." You said through gritted teeth. Damn this man.

Your knees were starting to wobble.

Vox kept asking you questions about new employees, if you needed anything for your shops, what the fucking weather was like. He was drawing out your presentation as long as he could. He was a bastard. Your pussy ached, needing contact so bad. Each word was a struggle, you were panting trying to get things out.

If Vox took you here in front of all these people you don't think you'd care. You needed him to fuck you. The coil in your belly was so tight you thought you were going to faint. Saliva was pooling in your mouth and could feel the wet dripping down your thighs.

Vox stared, he seemed almost genuinely interested in your presentation for the first time ever. You knew the glee in his eyes was for something entirely different though. The only hint that something was happening on his side came everytime he had to readjust himself, he was constantly shifting in his seat, or his hand would subtly sneak down to his pants to grab himself. He was enjoying this so much.

The thought of his hard cock was too much, your thighs clenched, trying so hard to keep yourself contained.

The meeting was over, finally, you were saying your goodbyes, lingering behind everyone else to have a private word with your boss. You were shaking your last coworker's hand when the vibrating became even more intense.

You crunched their hand, moaning as your body instinctively curled in on itself. You saw stars.

When you finally regained a bit of composure you met the eyes of the person whose hand was still in yours. They were blushing wildly, avoiding all eye contact. You could've died on the spot.

"Don't worry," Vox said coolly, slinging his arm around the other employee, "they're just not feeling well," he walked them over, pushing them out the door. "I'll make sure they get all the help they need."

#hazbin vox #vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox smut #vox fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #also literally you can read this as Handsome Jack #because theyre the same

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astral-cookiery · 1 year

Text

Hugging Headcanons. || Ft: Dark Cacao Kingdom

A/n: Surprise surprise! Guess who's alive? Such absence was caused by me being bad at keeping a solid schedule and then wanting to play Crk more than I wanted to write. Things are now being worked on heavily though!

Maybe a tiny spoiler warning for episode 14 on Affogato's? It's the last two bullets, so you can just scroll right past it if you do not wish to see spoilers. It doesn't spoil too much, I don't think.

Dark Cacao Cookie

You low-key might suffocate a tiny bit depending on the context of your hug.

If he hasn't seen you for a while, (I.e. on an adventure with the other ancient heroes) you can expect to be trapped in his armored arms until he decides to go and rest after a draining trip.

If you happen to spontaneously hug him whilst somewhere public, he'll give you an awkward side hug in response, since he doesn't want to break the stony demeanor he maintains to the other cookies.

If you're having an emotional moment while hugging and someone else walks in, the expression he gives the intruder is enough to send them scrambling away and mumbling apologies.

The cape goes around both of you. And then you're trapped in a cave of warmth.

Affogato Cookie

Smug bastard. If you ask, he'll give you some holier than thou remark before obliging, making a grand gesture with his arms and inviting you to come closer. Don't worry, he won't bite.

He'll wrap both his arms around your shoulders and pull you into his chest.

Probably gives you some stupid (not) reassuring words if you happen to be upset about something.

Bestie is not good at comforting. He's had a hundred and one problems, but a sad cookie has not been one of them.

If his vibe wasn't totally off, he'd probably give pretty comfortable hugs, seeing how his elegant clothing is made with soft silks and lined with fine fur.

If, after the events of episode 14, you do encounter him again (and don't hate him), he will most likely gladly accept a hug. His holier than thou demeanor will not falter, but he was secretly looking for a little comfort after so much work went to waste.

His hugs are probably a little more genuine than they were during his time as Royal Advisor.

Caramel Arrow Cookie

Older sister vibes

She'll hug you pretty tightly more often than not. Usually in the child way where they intentionally squeeze you like a boa constrictor, except she's an adult with wilderness training and she is significantly stronger than a child.

Awkward sibling hug? Awkward sibling hug. *pat pat.* /ref

H o l d. She'll grab you under your arms and lift you up into a hug. She will attempt to do this regardless of if you are taller or heavier than her. Caramel Arrow is strong, do not underestimate her determination.

(Using the bow and arrow gives you good arm strength last I checked)

If she's feeling playful, she'll outright throw you into the snow afterwards. And then she'll sprint off as quickly as possible. Unless you happen to drag her down with you.

Hugs often turn into snowball fights.

Crunchy Chip Cookie

He was embarrassed the first time you hugged him, and probably hid his face against your shoulder.

Really aggressive hugger. He'll probably squeeze you as hard as he can.

H o l d. (pt 2.) Crunchy Chip Cookie is the type to try and pick you up with a hug, do the awkward backward lean so that he can actually get your feet off the ground, and then drop you. Believe it or not, picking someone up via hugs is not the easiest feat.

When he's determined to hug you after being out at his post for an extended period of time, he'll outright charge at you and then knock you into the snow.

Prepare to get mauled by an excited cookie and his equally excited cream wolves.

If Caramel Arrow wasn't there to pry him off, you'd probably freeze before you got the chance to get out of the snow again.

He will pretend to be sparring with you if anyone happens to walk by (ahem, Dark Cacao.) He doesn't want to look soft or anything! (Please imagine the thing cats do where they randomly attack you while petting them.)

End.

This is not beta-read, probably very ooc, and probably a little self indulgent, unapologetically.

#I was half awake while writing most of this lol #dark cacao x reader #dark cacao crk #dark cacao cookie #affogato x reader #affogato crk #affogato cookie #caramel arrow cookie x reader #caramel arrow crk #caramel arrow cookie #crunchy chip cookie x reader #crunchy chip crk #crunchy chip cookie #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk #◞◦ ☆ -➛ Posts: Writings #◞◦ ☆ -➛ Posts: Headcanons

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twistedlovelines · 20 days

Note

Part two of the sub sebek post 👉👈 (same person who asked last time, was gonna ask sooner but I forgot...if you can do some more intended for male readers I'd be delighted and will owe you my soul, lungs, kidneys and eyes. It's okay if not though, you can still get my soul)

Have a lovely day/night

Sub! Sebek with a M! Reader (18+, MDNI)

Sub! Sebek, oral, (reader giving) anal, fingering (m! receiving), creampie, m! Human! Reader

Service. Sub.

He's far too prideful to initiate a quickie, but he'll shoot you desperate gazes the whole day in the hopes you understand his meaning. A firmer-than-necessary squeeze on your shoulder or waist as he moves past you, letting out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a moan when you pin him down during training, etc.

Genuinely loves being between your thighs and serving you. He doesn’t have to worry about anything but your pleasure during this time, and he trusts you wholly, allowing him to relax and let his worries slip away with every thrust in his mouth.

While he’s more focused on your pleasure at first, he does enjoy being the target of your affections in private (key word: private- he can’t handle too much PDA and prefers to show more overt forms of affection in private because it feels more genuine).

Generally, he’s never really cared much for exploring his own body and preferred to take care of things as quickly as possible (aka getting off by his own hand). He’s not familiar with toys, and never really seeks them out unless you introduce them to him ^^

As a result, he's quite nervous the first time you play with his ass and penetrate him. He's tense!! Anal in general requires the receiver to be relaxed, but Sebek in particular is so wound up that you need to work him through an orgasm or two before you can even insert a finger.

When you’re able to work your way up to stuff him with your cock, he’s wonderfully prepped for you. His hair is completely disheveled, his calloused hands having run through it in (failed) attempts to reign in his reactions. Spread completely for you, his cock is erect, leaning over his stomach as the flushed pink tip drips with pre-cum. “Well? What are you waiting for, human?” He snarls breathlessly. Frankly, it comes out weaker than he intended, but he can’t quite get himself to care. His nipples are sore from how you had toyed with them earlier, and he can feel himself clenching around nothingness as you pump yourself a few times before lining up with his hole.

As much as you try to ease yourself into him, Sebek can’t help but gasp at how full he feels whenever you fuck into him, and tends to hook his legs around you in response, wanting to feel as close to you as possible.

He cums fairly quickly given how overwhelming this experience is for him the first time, but he finds it a waste for you to allow your cum to leak out of him, so he whines and tugs you closer after you cum inside of him <3

Sebek finds himself surprisingly clingy after sex- even as you both give aftercare and collect yourselves. He can’t help but want to hold you close after such intimacy, and you’re happy to reciprocate.

a/n: reblogs and comments appreciated <3 requests are closed right now, but feel free to brainrot about any ideas or ask for me 2 elaborate in my inbox <33

#moth.flutters #nsfvv #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst smut #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt smut

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slime-sandwhich-nom · 9 days

Text

Anyway I love how Cosmo is not just a goofy stupid incompetent man,

No no, he's far from it.

Yes, he IS a goofball and yes he IS a little dumb but he's actually so many things.

He can drive, he can cook, hell he even went to military school before AND went through training for godparenting which has MILITARY TRAINING, it's safe to assume he knows a thing or two about a physical fight AND he is trained to use his wand in specific ways to grant a variety of wishes, to have great reflexes (both in military school and godparenting) and to have a great resistance and it's not even all, but just by this we can see he's not incompetent at all.

and he's not just a little nice innocent goofball either, he's much more than that.

These two posts (post 1 and post 2, which I love btw.) summarize his character very well, but hell he was pregnant, in the show Wanda makes some adult jokes that imply that her and Cosmo do have sex, both do parties and do get drunk (like in "power pals") and dude apparently he wrote two books that talk about topics that a "dumb incompetent man" shouldn't even know !

(This depends if you count it as canon or not.)

And in terms of personality he's not just nice either.

He can be salty, VERY salty at times, he can be petty and hold petty grudges, he can be sly and smug and shows it in the og, and sometimes he uses his own reputation of "idiot" and pretends he knows "nothing". (Which is the opposite of anti cosmo who pretends he knows everything, which is very funny.)

Like, juandissimo even tells us how Cosmo is "a warrior" and a "calculating and cunning foe" and big hand pointing at the line "Remy, I'm lucky to be alive, he almost turned his hand into a fist!" And seemed genuinely afraid. Like, he is a dramatic fellow but come on, which Cosmo? It's more accurate if juandissimo acted confident and strong towards him rather than scared.

And this doesn't mean Cosmo is suddenly a giant evil manipulator, it's just that he isn't JUST one trait. He isn't just stupid or an innocent sweet little man, he's genuinely a grown adult (NOT a grown child that can't take care of himself like the show later on tries to portray him as) with his own flaws, story and personal traits, and it's very fun to me.

like deep down he's still that funny pilot Cosmo, just put in a more goofy way. At least to me.

[^^^ delusional ^^^]

#this fairy shit srs #the fairly oddparents #fairly oddparents #cosmo cosma #analysis #character analysis #yes I've been taking points from those two posts and explaining them in my words :3 #so all the credit from the og posts and account !!!

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jesuistrestriste · 1 year

Note

sage I have art donaldson ideas and ik it's 3 am but HEAR ME OUT.....

he wins for the first time in like forever and reader let's him o whatever he wants and hes like dominant but not in a bitchy way he just took control and it's making me 🥴🥴

bri omfg u have me thinking thoughts rn. . .

this type of dom!art is what i'm trying to incorporate into pt. 2 of you're such a loser, but i'm making this a separate drabble bc im thinking abt this concept too hard now

the way that i'm writing this instead of finishing pt. 2 of YSAL is crazy

content warnings: soft dom!art donaldson, switch(sub)!reader, praise, gentle throat fucking, kinda fluffy.

word count - 2k

---- ✩ nsfw below, 18+ ✩ ---

The large crowd in the stands behind you burst up from their seats and roar with praise and cheers as Art successfully wins the volley against his opponent, resulting in the winning score of 7-5 for him. You can't help but jump up from your seat too, clapping your hands together and shouting things like "YES!" and "there we go!"

Weirdly, you felt like crying on behalf of your player. This had actually been his first win in over several months. He had hit a real slump about a year ago, and beat himself up for it, which only worked to decrease his overall morale and result in more losses down the line. You never actually told him this, but you were genuinely worried that his career might be over.. that he might never win again. But here the two of you were: many long mornings, afternoons, and nights of training and practice later, and he had fucking won.

A huge grin was splayed across his pink, sweaty cheeks as the score was announced and he went to shake his opponent's hand. The other player put on a brave face, shaking Art's hand, but as soon as your husband's back was turned, the player's face dropped into a display of resentment and anger. You scoffed at this, feeling a sense of pride in your partner and smugness at his win. This might have been a slightly hypocritical reaction on your part, though, as Art had been the resentful loser one too many times in the past year. You shrug the feeling of cognitive dissonance off. Who cared? He had his mojo back now.

Art jogs off of the court and makes a b-line right for your open arms, which he joyfully runs into before lifting you off of the ground and spinning you a bit. Once your feet are back on earth, you pull away to look into his eyes, and they are positively beaming with happiness and confidence. It was like looking at a whole new man! You brushed some wet pieces of hair from the middle of his forehead back into place, and then cupped his cheek. He smiled into your touch, and then pulled you back into his chest.

"You did such a good job, pretty boy. I'm so damn proud of you," you spoke quietly in his ear as he held you. He squeezed you tighter, letting you know how much he appreciated your praise.

"Thank you," he whispers.

You pull back and take one of his hands in two of yours.

"Let's get back to the hotel, yeah?" you smiled, and he nodded tiredly with a grin before using the back of his free hand to wipe beading sweat from his temples.

The taxi drops the two of you off outside of the huge hotel, and you both exit the vehicle after you pay the fare with your credit card. Art takes your hand in his with a renewed sense of self-assuredness, and you smile at him as you both walk into the building and take the elevator up to the twelfth floor.

Upon arrival, you pull the key card from your pocket and hold it gently over the red light above the door handle. A brief beeping noise is emitted and then the light is green. You turn the door handle and step inside, Art so close behind you that you can actually feel his body grazing the back of yours, and the door shuts quickly after. As you begin to pivot your body and congratulate him once more, he's suddenly all over you before you can even speak--

He's grabbing hungrily at the fabric of your dress, hiking it up and gripping your soft thighs, as he leans in to bite and suck at your neck. You can actually feel his canines nearly puncturing your skin as he places one of his palms at the nape of your neck so that you can't pull away from him.

"mm-! fuck!" you moan softly, using one of your hands to grab a handful of his hair while the other wraps around his upper back. He groans as you press your body against his, almost grinding into him.

"wh-what.. what are you doing?" you breathe out, swallowing thickly as he continues to leave bruises and bite marks on your flesh that are wonderfully sore and stinging.

He licks at your neck before responding, "I'm just so proud of us, and I want you to understand how proud I am."

The warmth of his breath kind of tickles and gives you goosebumps as you reach for one of his hands and bring it down to your panties.

"You can do whatever you want, love. You've earned it," you whisper into his ear, and then he's hooking his middle finger onto the inside of your underwear and pulling them down to your upper thighs in one smooth motion.

"I know I have, now jus' let me play with you a little,"

He rubs circles into your clit with his thumb, while his other fingers slide through your slick folds.

"You like this? Me having complete control over you?" he coos.

You nod, whining as you lift your leg to wrap it around the back of his legs and give him more access to your parts. He plays with your needy pussy for a couple of minutes more before you can feel his clothed erection pressing against your leg. He pauses his finger's movements, and breathes heavily against your shoulder.

"Kneel."

A beat of silence. There is no noise, except for the faint echo of your heavy breathing. You buck your hips against his hand.

"Wha-?" you mumble, still riding the high of your previously fast-approaching orgasm.

"You heard what I said, babe. On your knees for me," he saids gruffly, before pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

Without hesitation, you drop down to the floor, kneeling in front of him and making direct eye contact with the tent in the front of his white athletic shorts. He runs a hand though your hair, peering down at you with admiration as you begin to reach down and rub at your own clit. Art smiles at your desperation, and then he's pulling down his shorts and boxers until they're almost to his knees.

He holds his stiff cock out and gives it a couple stokes, which makes him toss his head back in pleasure, before he wiggles it slightly in front of your nose. He bends down and forward to give you a sloppy, warm kiss on the lips before he's back to standing upright. Two of his fingers from his free hand tap the underside of your chin.

"Open up, baby. I wanna put it in your mouth so bad.."

You oblige, opening your mouth up wide and letting your tongue loll out and rest against your bottom lip. Your brows turn up in arousal as you continue to get yourself off with your fingers, staring up at your pretty husband. This whole situation was so incredibly hot, given Art's lifelong streak of submission. He rarely took the reigns, but you guessed that today's win must have flipped a switch that had previously been off and lying dormant within him.

He takes a step closer to you and places his leaking tip onto your tongue, which you promptly wrap your lips around and engulf in the wet heat of your mouth.

An involuntary whimper tumbles from his lips at the feeling, but he tries to stifle it by pressing his lips tightly together. He grabs a fistful of your hair, and shallowly bucks his hips into your mouth. Your tongue swirls incessantly around the limited portion of his cock that he's gifted you, and you make sure to swallow whatever drips out.

"Okay, honey, listen to me," he groans, hips still twitching, "I'm going to fuck your throat now, but I promise I'll be careful. You can tap my leg twice if you want to stop. Nod if you understand me."

You nod, his erection still filling your mouth, and you look up at him with pleading eyes. You want this just as much as he does.

"Good girl," he says softly, praising your obedience.

He slowly pushes his hips closer to your lips, successfully stuffing his length down your throat. It takes a second for you to get adjusted to the slightly unpleasant feeling, and you choke a little around him. He studies your face as he continues to stuff your mouth full, making sure that you don't look too uncomfortable or uneasy.

"There you go, baby.. taking me so well, oh ffffu-uck-"

His hips are now pressed flush to your lips, and your eyes well up with tears as you feel the stretch of your throat. You feel a bit of drool drip down your chin and land on your leg below.

Art delicately grabs your head with both of his hands now, brushing some of your hair behind your ear, and then he starts to thrust needily into your mouth. At first, it's small jerks of his hips, but these jerks soon turn into full-on pumps of heady cock in and out of your throat. Your head feels fuzzy at the sensation of this, plus your approaching orgasm and the lack of direct access to oxygen.

"mm-mm-mm-mf-!" you whine high in your chest as he fucks your mouth mercilessly, lost in his own storm of arousal and desperation. Your other hand moves to grip his leg and steady your body from rocking back and forth. You wanted to be a good toy for him right now. After all, he had worked so hard today.

He moves one of his hands to cup your lower jaw and uses his dominant one to grab your hair and hold it back from your face in a make-shift ponytail. All the while, he's still pumping your throat full of his dick, as he lets out low groans and muffled whimpers.

Your body starts to tremble and you squeeze your eyes shut as your fingers rubbing your sensitive nub bring you closer and closer to the edge. Art immediately takes notice, and you can feel the way his length twitches and jumps with interest as it pummels your mouth.

"Are you close..? I'm getting close.. I'm so close.." he moans out loudly, gripping your hair with ferocity.

You release a drawn-out whimper, alerting him that you were ready to cum any second, and he looks down at you with unadulterated delight.

"So pretty when you're cumming, babe, let me see you cum while you're sucking me down,"

At the processing of his words, your eyes quickly glaze over as you start to squirt all over your hand and the floor beneath you. Your body shakes with the waves of your orgasm as you cum, yet you still make sure that you're lavishing his erection with adequate attention.

He moans as he watches your hips arch in the aftershocks of your release, and then his hips are stilling as his balls draw up-

"Oh FUCK, oh fuck me, I'm cumming I'm nnnghh-!"

You feel a warm and rapid flow of liquid down your throat that follows the sound of his cries of ecstasy, and you instinctively swallow it all. Every single drop, and this effectively works to milk his cock dry as he continues to spill into your mouth and whimper with each throb and pulsation of his orgasm.

After he rides out the last bit of his high, Art attempts to catch his breath as he slowly pulls himself out of your mouth. You cough and splutter a bit, having gotten used to the full-feeling, and then swallow a few times to soothe your used throat.

"Where did that.. where did that come from?" you gasp out, also trying to regain the steadiness of your breathing.

He laughs softly with raised brows, before blowing out a harsh breath of air through puckered lips. His brows knit together in genuine surprise and contemplation.

"I honestly have no idea, but I kinda liked it."

You smile up at him, wiping at your spit-covered chin.

"Me too.. maybe this will be a new incentive for you to win," you tease.

"If that's how it's gonna be, I'll win every match from now on," he smirks, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

"You're on."

---

im thinking so many thoughts.

ps. sorry if there's any errors, i wrote this at 3 am :,)

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dimonds456 · 9 days

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Billford and Abuse: An Analysis

Honestly, as someone who ships both Billford and Fiddauthor, the thing I like about the toxic yaoi ship is the fact that it IS toxic. Like, the jokes are great, but its depiction of abuse is so, like... genuine. Without getting personal, I've been in a really fucking bad toxic (platonic) relationship before, and Billford deadass helped me come to terms with it.

Cuz here's the thing: most fictional abusive relationships just start with the abuse itself. It shows the victim and the perpetrator at the height (or almost at the height) of the abuse, and we see as either one of them is destroyed by it or the victim becomes free. But Billford actually shows the WHOLE timeline.

Something that bothers me about a lot of fictional abuse reps is the fact that you cannot sympathize with the victim aside from "aw that's horrible :(". Cuz it just starts AT the abuse. We don't see how they got there or what's causing the victim to stay. We just know they need to escape.

But with Billford, we see EVERYTHING. How it started out as something Ford genuinely loved, seeing Bill as a friend and someone he could trust, how it made him feel better because he was actually making progress on his research and he wasn't lonely anymore.

To Ford during those early days, Bill was the highlight of his time in Gravity Falls. We can follow his train of thought exactly to where he let Bill possess him with basically no strings attached (pun intended).

That's what makes it all the more devastating. Bill isolated Ford from everyone. He sabotaged his friendship with Fiddleford by planting that seed of doubt in the engineer and pulling Ford further and further into his plans. Then the thing with the portal happened and Ford had NOWHERE to go. Plus, Bill kept trying to get Ford to stop thinking about Stan, to move on and let him rot. So he kept planting seeds of doubt in his own brother as well, causing Ford to further and further slip away.

Then Ford confronts Bill. And the monster is unleashed.

Once Bill realizes he's lost control of Ford's devotion and the illusion has shattered, Bill just LEANS into it. In order to take control back, he started tormenting Ford and just being horrible to him, to try and make him fall in line. Love and fear ARE right next to each other in the brain, after all. And there's NOTHING Ford can do but just fall further and further into paranoia.

Bill demonstrates many real-world abusive/manipulative tactics on Ford, the big one being isolation, since that allows the rest of the everything to even happen, but the way he turns Ford against LITERALLY EVERYONE using paranoia is really true to real life.

Now obviously your toxic boyfriend cannot possess random strangers irl. But you know what he CAN do? Start spreading rumors behind your back. Stalk you. Harass you. Make you feel unsafe everywhere except home (which isn't safe either, but it's better than the outside world). He can spend your money or break your things. Slash your tires. In Ford's case, LITERALLY abusing his body. There's the sticky notes, the threats, the roof incident, all of it just piling one atop the other.

I cannot imagine how fucking terrified Ford must have been to finally send that postcard to Stanley. He was at a point where he assumed Stan would hate him, or at the very least wouldn't respond so why even bother, and he'd just gotten the "steal your eyes" threat. He was out of options, and was absolutely sure he was putting Stan in danger by getting him involved (another irl abuse thing that happens).

He was scared to reach out for help because 1) he didn't want others getting hurt (like Fidds had), 2) he was ashamed he'd let this happen, and 3) he, on some level, felt like he deserved this.

Justified? To a paranoid, scared, abused, irrational brain: Absolutely. In reality? Never. But HE'D built that portal. HE'D allowed Bill to possess his body basically freely. HE'D basically helped start the apocalypse. And that shame would have lead to SO much self-hatred and despair.

His reaching out to Stan was his last resort, his only way out. THAT'S what intrigues me about the ship so much.

I do not want them to make up and get back together. They're horrible for each other. But I do enjoy exploring the dynamic of it, fully seeing the cycle and how it happens, and seeing a whole new side to Ford that we only caught a glimpse of in the show and Journal 3. Plus Bill but his side is more comedic and sad to me I do not take him seriously FSDGHJ

The jokes are great and I love it here, but if I ever write a fic or draw art for these two it's going to be toxic as hell man. And not in the fun way fgsjd

#billford #book of bill #the book of bill #book of bill spoilers #bill cipher #stanford pines #ford pines #gravity falls #abuse #tw abuse #abuse tw

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supercutszns · 8 months

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A best friends to lovers between Luke and a Ares reader where some how Ares ends up at Camp-Half-Blood and gets to meet all his kids, and despite his seemingly uninterested demeanor when he meets the 2 best fighters of his cabin (Clarisse and the reader) he’s genuinely impressed but doesn’t show it. Reader ends up feeling like she disappointed Ares due to his lack of emotion despite the days and nights full of intense training she’s put in since being at camp and ends up ranting about it to Luke who ends up confronting Ares despite the intimidation he feels when doing so because he wants reader to know how amazing she truly is and knows that if it comes from the father she looks up to so dearly that she’ll believe it finally. Ares reluctantly ends up talking to the reader and says something along the lines of Luke being a decent boyfriend and that he has some fire for being a child of Hermes. Ares genuinely thought the two were together but shrugged it off when the reader disagreed despite her feelings. After Ares and tiny Ares have their heart to heart, or as close to one of those as u can get with that cabin, reader ends up thanking Luke and confessing her feelings.

Ik that was a lot sry! I’ve just had the idea since the Ares ep came out. Have a great day 😊😊

omfg i am eating this up. u had me at best friends to lovers

ares coming to camp and meeting his kids😭😭 my god that’s so bittersweet especially with clarisse and reader being the best fighters :( luke confronting ares i’m FERALLL U KNOW HE WOULD CONFRONT A GOD FOR HIS GIRL HE DOES NOT GAF (or at least he pretends to. he’s still a little scared)

he’s already angry at the gods and the one that happens to be your father just disregards your strength?? you’re upset and you confide in him about how inadequate you feel and luke’s like oh i need to beat a bitch up

luke gets ares alone the second he can and like tries to be diplomatic but it’s obvious how much he hates ares right off the bat. basically comes in fists ablaze and ares says “no i actually was super impressed by her i just didn’t feel like telling her lol” and luke is like. what is wrong with you

eventually the conversation ends on a somewhat lukewarm note; when luke turns to leave ares says kinda nonchalantly “i see why you two are together, you’ve got a lot of fire for a hermes kid”

luke just goes: huh??????????? and ares is like “you know, you and my daughter” luke just stares at area dumbstruck and he just sighs and is like. jesus fucking christ there’s no way

then he talks to you (a little begrudgingly but only a little; he wonders if some of aphrodite’s matchmaking tendencies have rubbed off on him) and he tells you very sparingly that you’re gifted, then he’s like “please for the love of Me, Ares, the War God tell that boy you like him i think he’s going to set me on fire.”

he ends the conversation at that so obviously you’re dumbstruck (both by the praise and by your father urging you to ask out your best friend) but when luke comes around to ask how it went you know your dad got something right.

you thank him for everything and work up the courage to mention what ares said at the end, and luke laughs a little and is like “that’s so weird he said the same thing to me” so you shrug and say “maybe he has a point.” luke doesn’t get flustered often but he def is now so you take it upon yourself to kiss him to drive the point home <3 after that you confess the full scope of your feelings and he kisses you bc he’s just so eager and he mutters against your lips that this is the only time he’s ever respected a god in the slightest. then you guys go spar together like old times except this time there’s 90% more making out 💗💗

#perrie prattles #perrie’s asks #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan headcanon #luke castellan drabble

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liasadventuretime · 2 years

Text

˗ˏˋyou jealous ? :) ´ˎ˗ - neteyam x reader pt. 3

⁀➷ part three : CONGRATULATIONS, FUCKER.

notes : so um… hi ! since y’all really enjoyed pt. 2 i decided i might as well write a pt. 3… i have to say that it was kind of hard writing this part because i genuinely didn’t think people would’ve liked it that much and had no idea of what to say anymore ☠️ but anygays … i had a BIG ASS fight with my parents so they took my phone, and they’re probably going to take my mac away too so idk when i’ll upload pt. 4 ( if y’all want one ), so i tried to write a bit more this time, i hope it’s sufficient.

tags : @xoxobabe @marcswife21 @arminsgfloll @rubysworld96 @klarolinefanatic @giftfromthemoon @k4tsukiis @rainehatepage @neteyamsbbgfr @miapanticc @iixyia-deactivated20230123 @famousbagelhandspurse @astablacksword @ghoulfac3 @buttercake2234 @potseluymenya @mashiromochi @avatarslut0 @chanyeolsbeloved @regulus-black-223048 @isabelcor3 @grierpilots @neteyamsmate4life @beyoenisbalfart @severenswife @lady-in-gold @bealone-prm @hafutoru @jyoungmom @soxfix @thatgoodvibescloud @aalyara @abbersreads @neteyamsw @strawberryys-stuff @ilovestargirl @rubysworld96 @meivap @neteyamsullyswife @erenjaegerwifee @cherry-blossom34 @slutforavatar @hey-girl-hey @athenachu @laaalox @ghostjoohoney @tsamiaxo @arminsgfloll

warnings : a bit of angst, insecurity, overthinking neteyam lmao, detailed masturbation, this man is lusting waaaaaayyy too much over you lmao, a lil makeout session with someone 🤭, and i think that’s it lol.

everything was okay now. no really, everything’s okay.

after your talk with neteyam, he left you with more questions than answers once again.

your brain felt like a beehive, never stopping, so you tried to distract yourself with anything.

you trained, you read, you helped around, but not even spending time with ao’nung could help. you don’t think he noticed the way you pretended it was neteyam holding you, kissing you, spoiling you. but you gotta be careful.

you just had one single thought in your mind.

flashback

“you know we could argue right now, and no one would hear or see us ?”

“we could do anything right now, and nobody would see us. anything.”

your thoughts were interrupted by someone speaking.

you opened the tent only to see someone’s chest right in front of you, you tilted your head up and you saw him. neteyam.

your heart dropped to your stomach for a second, making you almost gasp. what was he doing here ? his hair was still in the same hairstyle you saw him in at the beach. he looked almost unreal.

face framed by a few braids, jaw locked making him look so nervous for some reason, his high cheekbones sharp as always, and even though you never told him, you wanted to feel his cheekbones so much, all the time. pointy nose with a little bump which you recognised immediately, it was jake’s. that bump was only on his nose, because all the other sons and daughters didn’t have it. he really is his father’s son. eyes still soulless, empty that almost looked dead. they were pointy, but not too much. he has that “sharp” look from neytiri, her stare could send you to heaven and above. his shoulders broad, not too muscly which is something you liked. his arms veiny and biceps always flexed, not even having to force it. his abs well sculpted, he was still wet, droplets of water running down his face and chest, he was probably swimming with lo’ak. or someone else.

you shook your head a bit, to get that thought off your head. it doesn’t matter, it really doesn’t. his v-line almost looks like it got highlighted and sharpened, which was the only thing you hated about the way your people dress.

his everything was for everyone to see. everyone.

you sometimes tend to forget he’s not offlimits, and to say you had nightmares, about someone else getting neteyam before you, was too little.

his voice snapping you out of your trance again, hoping he didn’t catch you quite literally analyzing his whole body, but the proud smile on his face immediately cleared all your doubts.

“your cigarettes.” he said getting in your face making fun of you. he handed you your pack of cigarettes. he didn’t give you the lighter but it didn’t matter, that’s the last thing you cared about right now.

that’s quite weird though. this isn’t the first time you forgot your cigarettes, he usually just keeps them since you smoke them together anyways. you better not think about it too much before you get delusional.

“oh, thank you.” you lightly smiled at him, looking at him in the eyes while taking the packet off your hands. but before you could get them, he pulled your hand to him and placed the pack on the top of your palm, his hand still holding yours. stop, stop, stop.

if you could only know what he was thinking about, he thought to himself.

if you could only know what he did later that night thinking about you.

flashback

“i fucking knew it.” he said, walking to his tent, his fists tight, his jaw locked.

he fucking knew you just couldn’t take that further step. he was only a game to you.

you enjoyed teasing him, playing with his mind acting like he was your dirty little toy, cared about only when you’re horny, or ao’nung couldn’t satisfy you enough.

how could he at the end of the day ? ao’nung wasn’t him and will never be.

he knows he’s better, but fuck do your choices fuck his mind up.

he though he could at least get one night with you, one single night. he could be near you, stay with you, inside you. he could see you. but you didn’t want to. hell, you didn’t even want to look at him.

the constant thoughts of you, torturing his mind. he hoped he could at least live one night of pure love, caring and affection, thinking you wanted too, so he could then go on with his life, mate with a person he didn’t love or care about only to satisfy his father, since the only thing he has always wanted was you.

he wanted you to look at him, but you were too busy staring and smiling at ao’nung.

he felt tears glossing his eyes, you could never be with him, because you simply didn’t want to.

as soon as he got into his tent, he immediately threw your shit away, that you forgot on the beach, with your other stuff. yes, he had a chest with a bunch of stuff you always forgot when you were around him. even looking at it, could make his heart wrench, feeling actual pain.

your blanket, you were nine years old and you had forgotten it when you slept that night with his parents, you had a nightmare. he didn’t sleep that night, so that if you had a nightmare again he could be the one to comfort you. not his parents, him.

your emerald braid accessory, you were eleven, he said he liked it, that it suited your face, so you took it off your braid and placed it in his hand, saying “take it, it’ll look better on you anyway”. it would’ve never looked better on anyone, that wasn’t you. so he just decided to keep it.

your spoon, the one that you used to eat your meals with, and that one time you happened to really like the meal his mom cooked for you. you took a spoonful of it, and positioned it in front of neteyam’s mouth. he was confused for a second, not getting if you actually wanted him to eat out of your spoon. you said “open your mouth, it’s really good, i promise”. not like you had to prove anything, he would’ve eaten a spoonful of poison if your hand was the one holding it. he hesitantly opened his mouth and you fed him. you smiled, and went back to eating your meal, with the same spoon you had just fed him with. it was something probably superficial for you, but it really did mean the world to him.

nostalgia was the sharpest blades of all.

if he only knew you thought the same exact thing.

his mask slipped for a second, letting a tear cut though his face, leaving behind a cold scar. he aggressively wiped it away. he hated you, so so so much. he couldn’t bear the sight of you.

he hated you.

he hated your beautiful hair, your sharp sparkly eyes, your soft cheekbones, your so damn kissable nose, your pouty lips that always fucking curl and smile at everyone’s jokes but his, the soft hill of your breast, the curve that separated your ribcage from the lowest part of your waist.

he couldn’t avoid getting hard every single fucking time. thinking about the way of your body moves when you play beach volley with your group, the way you felt on top of him, or well right on top of his dick, every single time you fought. he couldn’t avoid thinking about the way you were on top of him, fitting oh so well on his dick, while he was holding your wrists with one hand, but since you were way too angry, you didn’t even notice that his other free hand was placed on your waist with a brutal grip. to say he almost whimpered seeing stars, because of how well his big hand fitted on your strong curvy waist, was way too little.

there weren’t words to explain how much he wanted you. he could’ve collected every single thing he wrote about you, and still wouldn’t be enough to explain how hard his heart throbbed every time you were with him. well, maybe something else throbbed too.

neteyam couldn’t take it anymore. if he had to rub out every single thought he had about you, he would’ve became infertile a long time ago.

he placed his head on the pillow, trying to get to sleep in a fetal position. he turned and turned, trying to think of something else, but not the even aliyah, who he tried so hard to act like she was better than you, could lock his thought of you out of his mind.

he sighed in frustration, aggressively getting up when he noticed that.

his incredible massive boner, his dick’s timing was just great.

he got up, turned on the shower, making sure there was still some hot water, and took his clothes off.

“oh c’mon, now.” he silently said after taking off his underwear, noticing pre-cum on them. his dick spurted up, hitting him in the stomach. he rolled his eyes, and got in the shower.

the hot water hugged him, feeling like all of his problems were going down the drain.

he watched his dick gently throb, brought his hand to the base and slid it all the way up, circling his the tip, trying to let out of all the built up sexual tensione he had.

he tried to think about anything that wasn’t you. but how could he ?

how could he not think about the way your sex humped on his clothes, feeling your folds hug his shaft so perfectly. how could he not think of the way that you thought he didn’t notice you throb on him ? how could he not think of the way his hand from your waist slid down to your ass, before his dad separated the both of you ? how could he not think of the way that ao’nung’s hand was in your inner thigh, but you were looking at him ?

his pace got faster, making him heavy pant with his eyes closed, your figure tattooed on his eyelids. he came, seeing some of his seed on his hand and what was left of it going down the drain with the water and his problems.

he sighed, staying there, back held by the wall behind him, leaving him thinking. but he was way too tired of thinking. his temples were throbbing with pain, from how hard his headache was. he just finished washing himself, put some clothes on, and just went to sleep.

you woke up the next morning, head basically feeling like someone stomped on it.

you barely could even sleep last night, too many problems flowing in your thoughts.

you sighed, almost whimpering, brutishly throwing your head back on the pillow. why did everything have to be soooo complicated. you definitely had to talk to him, because all of this had to stop. you were tired, sexually frustrated and sleep deprived. this combo could easily make you kill anyone who even tries to disturb your peace.

you hated the way he was trying to hard to act like “he’s protecting his peace”, motherfucker your disturbing everyone else’s. you got up sloppily, waiting for lo’ak to come by your tent like he did every single morning.

but well, weird. time has passed and you didn’t even see lo’ak’s shadow, where could he be ?

you got out of your tent, walking to his parents’ one since the poor lil boo boo had nightmares basically every single night. you almost wanted to feel bad for him, but how the fuck could you ?

at the beginning you thought that after hearing all the crazy stories about the war his dad, the former Toruk Makto, fought, he just was scared and was having nightmares about that.

but after hearing that he had a nightmare about you fucking tsireya, you were done caring about this man. out of all things in the world, THAT ? since you said you could definitely fall in love with a girl, he went on flight or fight mode. saying this guy could literally sweat jealousy, was too little.

“father ? are you here ?” you said while keeping the tone of your voice low and calm, so you didn’t scare anyone off. but the scene in front of you could be the least thing you expected.

neytiri and jake seated in a circle with everyone, and when you say everyone, you meant EVERYONE. in front of jake there was neteyam, who looked like he almost killed someone by the way he had his head down, legs crossed and… was that a slap mark ??

on neteyam’s left, kiri and spider were seated. which is weird, why were they so quiet ? on neteyam’s right there were lo’ak and tuk. even tuk ? you felt a wave of goosebumps traveling their way up your back. this is way much more serious than you thought.

jake looked at you with the harshest expression you have ever seen on his face. “oh great, (y/n) sit down and join us.” you didn’t sit down, still trying to process what he was saying while walking in the tent, getting behind neteyam.

“FUCKING SIT. NOW.” he screamed at you, as you felt a wave of shock wash over you. you immediately sat down, accidentally bumping neteyam’s shoulder. that’s the first time jake has ever yelled at you. never, in his whole life has he ever screamed at you. yes, he sometimes could be mad at you, but has never screamed that way. neytiri looked at you with heartbroken eyes, mouthing ‘i’m so sorry.’. why would she apologise, it’s not like it’s her fault. right ?

jake huffed, keeping the palms of his hands on his crossed legs, almost looking like he was trying to find the words to explain what was on his mind. this man is going to get a heart attack if you and the others don’t stop stressing him. you felt ashamed, of the way you childishly fighted with neteyam over stupid stuff, not even realising your father couldn’t handle it anymore.

the shame, always comes at the worst time.

“this is the last fucking time i’m saying this. why THE FUCK-” he stopped for a second, trying to calm down for a second. tuk was with us, he probably didn’t want to swear or yell in front of her. you saw him take a deep breath and finish his sentence.

“why, THE FUCK, did you treat her like that ? what has she done to you ? it’s not like your skxawng ass has a mate to be loyal to.” he said, finishing his sentence.

your heart dropped, you were almost capable of hearing the echo of its fall. wait.

she ?

who are we talking about ?

interrupting you from your thoughts, jake stood up scaring everyone, and furiously walked to then kneel in front of neteyam. he harshly grabbed his face, making you gasp out loud, almost like he grabbed your face.

what happened ? you were so confused. she ? who is she ? how did he treat her for jake to be this mad ?

neteyam looked at him, his head tilt up with absent eyes, lips pressed together and jaw locked.

“you have absolutely no idea of what you’ve done, do you ?” jake almost whispered, which was probably even scarier than him screaming.

“this sweet sweet girl, who is literally the clan leader’s daughter, came up to you, asking you whatever the fuck she asked you, and what did you do ?” oh. so it’s tsireya’s sister we’re talking about, aliyah.

“’ oh leave me alone, i don’t want anything to do with you’” he said mocking neteyam’s words. he chuckled, and continued.

“your skxawng ass better be grateful if the leader doesn’t tell us to pack our staff and go the fuck away, after the way she ran away crying.” he stood up from his position, stopping the grasp on neteyam’s face, making him leave his head to the side. he lifted up his gaze, only to be met with yours.

you were genuinely so worried, in part because you couldn’t understand what in the actual fuck was happening. what did aliyah want ? why did neteyam make her cry ?

“is it my fault that i don’t want to mate with a person i don’t like ?” he silently said, making everyone turn their heads to him, no one expected him to talk. this is so bad.

jake stopped for a second with his back towards him. he slowly turned around with furrowed eyebrows and a slightly parted mouth. “what the fuck did you just say ?” he said, the vein on his temple was quite literally about to pop.

“I SAID, i don’t want to mate with her ! i don’t want her ! she was throwing herself all over me, like the fucking slag she is, and when i told her no, BECAUSE I HAVE EVERY FUCKING RIGHT TO SAY NO, she started crying.” he stopped for a second, catching his breath while looking at his dad. he couldn’t recognise him, why was he suddenly so pressed and stressed about neteyam finding a mate ? did it have to do with you ?

jake crossed his arms, and with an ironic smirk on his face he said “then who the fuck do you like, huh ? is every other girl so repellent to you ? have you suddenly became picky or what ?”

neteyam was about to let a tear cut through his face but he didn’t even though his eyes still remained glossed with tears. “i like someone else, but they don’t want to have anything to do with me. that’s it. it’s not the end of the world.” neteyam finished, with a slightly cracked but most importantly low voice.

jake stared at him for a couple of seconds. his face was now suddenly calm, while neytiri’s was absolutely devastated.

there was no denying it, neteyam’s a mommas boy. thank god, neytiri never tried to emotionally incest him, indeed she was happy when he talked to her about this someone he liked. that was the first time neytiri saw her sweet son be so wrapped around someone’s finger. she said that he should at least try, not jump to conclusions. but if he did jump to conclusions earlier, he wouldn’t have to feel his heart wrench and blood boil every single time he thought about what happened that night with you at the beach. he should’ve jumped to conclusion, and probably taken a fucking hint. you didn’t want him. that’s it, it’s as simple as it gets. move on, neteyam.

move on.

jake looked at you for a second, like the answer to all his problems was somewhere inside of you. in that exact moment he thought.

“is it better to speak or to die ?”

should he speak ? should he let you know that all of this, was because neteyam couldn’t move past you ? he couldn’t even count on his hands how many other omatikaya women have came up and asked to be neteyam’s mate. and he refused to even look at them. one after the other.

or should he die ? let his son stare at you with dreamy eyes, trying everyday to kill whatever he felt for you ? see him mate with another person he probably didn’t love, or even want to be near to ? should he kill his son ? a body is nothing without its soul. you were half of him, even though you were probably complete on your own. that’s the thing.

you could live without neteyam, neteyam couldn’t live without you.

neteyam stood up, catching everyone’s attention, leaving the tent and distracting jake from his thoughts.

“reunion finished, get out” he said opening the tent’s entrance for everyone.

neteyam had been waiting for you. on the beach, with a new lighter, because he wanted to keep yours. only waiting for you to come here, smile at him, sit next to him and smoke together.

but after an hour, he was worried. had something happened to you ? where did you go after the family reunion ?

he just decided to get up, and look for you. to finally try and not jump to conclusions again.

to finally say those damn three words.

“i see you.”

yes, that was the day, or maybe he could at least try and hint his intentions. letting you know he wanted more than a hookup, and that he finally was fucking ready to treat you like he should have been all this time.

ok no, maybe it’s a little too early for that.

he had no idea that that same day, ao’nung came by your tent.

“hey, how are you ?” ao’nung asked, face poking from the side of your tents entrance. you were surprised he came by your tent. he wasn’t used to do this, but it’s not like you don’t appreciate it.

“hey” you said back. he got in the tent, looking around for a bit. this was probably the first time he came here after you decided to basically move here.

“so, what have you been up you?” you tried to keep a conversation going, you couldn’t bare the silence it was way too awkward.

“i’ve been missing you.” he said, in a serious tone. silence dropped for a second, but it was immediately interrupted by your laughs. thank god.

“and what have you been up to ?” he smiled looking at you while leaning his back on the wall. maybe you could fall in love with him. or maybe you’re just delusional.

“nothing special, if i have be to be honest, but… “ you left your sentence incomplete, walking to him with his gaze glued on you. same smirk on his face.

“… i’ve been missing you too.” you finished your sentence, placing a kiss on his lips.

you were such a little dirty liar. you didn’t miss him one bit.

you place another kiss on his lips, and another one. and another one.

until he placed a hand behind your neck, smashing your lips together, deepening your kiss. his tongue lightly parted your lips, as if he was asking for your consent. you hugged his tongue with yours, tasting him. but ao’nung’s lips couldn’t even come near netayam’s lips. soft, on your skin, jaw and neck. his hand tracing circles on your waist as usual, your arms thrown to circle his neck.

you silently moaned against his lips, catching his attention, making him heavy breathe. your lips still attached to his, you lightly jumped, his big hands covering your ass, making you hug his waist with your legs.

you were so deep already, into all of this story. are situationships supposed to act like this ? was it normal ? are you falling in love ? or are you falling in love with the person you’re pretending is holding you right now ?

are you in love with ao’nung or the guy that could make you fall to your knees with only a kiss ? or make you whimper with a single touch ? or make you doubt everything you know with a simple phrase ? that someone had such a special effect on you, you don’t think there’s any language in this world that is capable of explaining what he did to you. how he makes you feel.

you were so so so tired. of fighting. of pretending. of replacing.

shouldn’t things be easier ?

your thoughts interrupted by ao’nung’s lips kiss and biting on your neck, but neteyam did it so much better. you lifted your face, giving him more space to work on. ao’nung suddenly stopped, face still in the crook of your neck . and you suddenly had this bad bad feeling in your gut.

something bad about to happen to you. you don’t what it is, but you feel it coming.

you waited for ao’nung to say something, hands still on your back to hold you, like you weighted as much as a feather. he could give you anything you wanted, but how could ask him to give you another person ? that unfortunately wasn’t him.

“i know who you pretend i am.” your heart dropped the moment ao’nung spoke those words, with his voice low and cracked. he knew and still came by your tent. the guilt was chocking you.

he knows, and i know he knows. what could you even say ? that it wasn’t true ? that he was worried for nothing ? you couldn’t, because not only you would be lying to him, but you would also be lying to yourself.

as if your night couldn’t get better, someone entered the tent.

but as soon as you felt your heart stinging, you knew damn well you were in so much trouble.

so so so so much trouble. you were absolutely fucked.

you didn’t even have to look at him, to realise that the person who just entered your tent was neteyam. you immediately fell back to your feet, distancing yourself from ao’nung.

who did you even have to be loyal to ?

but maybe, it just was the fact that you couldn’t betray your heart.

you suddenly felt naked, in front of him. his gaze confused, eyes glossed once again with tears.

you just wanted to disappear, you just wanted to die.

he scoffed, crossing his arms and looking at you with a smirk on his face. this was so bad.

ao’nung kept trying to keep track on what was happening, why were you so suddenly acting like this. but he might have realised something, that the two of you have been trying to hide so hard. his eyes flashed, mouth slightly opened. heart completely shattered. he immediately ran out of the tent, purposely bumping his shoulder against neteyams. not even daring to look back. you felt a tear leave your eye. what have you done ?

the silence was suddenly interrupted by neteyams voice, making you tilt your head up.

“congratulations, fucker.”

he stopped for a second. trying to get the words.

“if you only knew how many words i have wasted on you, and how many other words i was willing to waste. even tonight, but you didn’t even come by.”

that’s all he said, before leaving once again, following ao’nung’s traces.

leaving you alone.

alone, again.

final notes : damn um, so how did y’all like it ? i hope u enjoyed it ! if y’all want a part four remember to like the post and if you want to be tagged and you’re not already on the tag list, message me privately or comment it ! for some reason i can’t tag everyone, so i’ll just directly send it ! sorry for the wait, AND PLS LET ME KNOW WHERE YALL ARE FROM BECAUSE IM EUROPEAN AND I POST AT COMPLETELY RANDOM TIMES 😭

sneak peak : so the time has come ! someone noticed a song reference i put in my story ! if y’all didn’t already notice it, in all my posts i put some song references which, if you can tell me from which song or band it is, you get a sneak peak of the next part before everyone else ! the first winner was… @grierpilots !, the reference was from a neighbourhood song, one of my favs which is crybaby ! the reference was : “i always get this anxious feeling, but it goes away when i’m with you breathing.” which neteyam said to you in pt. 2 of the fic ! the quote isn’t exact but it’s always recognisable :)

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