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gurugirl · 3 days
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Sex Tutor
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Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well���” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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ode2rin · 2 days
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new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)
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You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 
And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.
Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.
Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.
Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 
He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.
The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 
There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.
“Are we… alright?” he drawled.
What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 
He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.
Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”
“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.
“Okay, Rin.”
That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.
“Are you mad at me?” 
“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?
“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.
You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)
“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”
“You so are!” 
“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”
There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.
“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”
“Not to you, it’s not!”
A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 
Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”
“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.
With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 
“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.
“I’m not childish.”
“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”
Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.
“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.
“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 
“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.
The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 
They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.
He was now something more, something special.
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.
It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 
Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 
It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 
You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.
Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”
“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.
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note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.
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kingkaizen · 2 days
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𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻
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∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3
∘ ft: nanami & gojo
∘ word count: 2.7k
∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk
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Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.
No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.
But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.
When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.
“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”
“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.
“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.
“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”
Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind. 
“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.
“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”
Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?
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“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.
“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.
“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.
That look never came.
“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.
“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”
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The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”. 
“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.
“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.
“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.
“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”
You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.
“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.
“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.
“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip. 
“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.
“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.
“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?” 
No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”
Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are. 
“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight. 
“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”
“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”
“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.
“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”
“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.
You fucking loved it.
You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.
“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.
Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.
“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.
“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.
“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.
“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.
“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.
“Not unless you beg for it.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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muwapsturniolo · 2 days
Text
✯𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐭✯
Matt sturniolo x black fem!reader
IN WHICH…Y/n has to put in work to get what she wants.
WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! drugs (weed), guns are mentioned but not used, oral (m receiving), lil bit of thigh riding. that's really it.
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Matt watches as the car full of high schoolers pulls off, scoffing and shaking his head in annoyance. This was their first time buying from him and they tried to screw him over, saying that someone told them a cheaper price than what Matt originally charged.
It took roughing one of them up for him to get his full payment.
He sighs as he climb in the car, his once good mood now dampened.
He should go home, possibly take a shower, and smoke himself into oblivion so he can relax and be ready for the next day of dealing, but he has an even better drug.
Y/n
A cute little thing.
It was something about her that always pulled Matt in. Maybe it was the way her eyes lit up when she saw him, or the way she would hug and kiss his cheek after dropping off. Maybe it was the way her pink glossed lips wrapped around the blunt when they would smoke at parties, making him imagine how they would look around his dick.
He doesn’t know, but he loves it.
He grabs his phone and clicks on the pinned messages with his favorite buyer.
Matt: in your neighborhood princess, you want your usual?
Y/n: yes plz! I just ran out this morning😔
Matt smiled to himself, instantly feeling a bit better about tonight.
she was always his favorite buyer
He makes the short drive to her house and parks the car, grabbing his bag and running up the front steps. He rings the doorbell and waits for her to answer.
The door creaks open and his eyes are instantly looking her up and down. She’s dressed in a baby pink cropped cami with lace trimmings, and a pair of light grey shorts that hug the mound between her legs perfectly.
He could see the outline of her lips along with the small damp patch.
“Matt?” Her soft voice brings him out of his trance. “Hey princess, you going to let me in?” She giggles softly at the pet name and lets the dealer inside.
He’s been in her house before, having been to the parties she’s thrown, or simply coming over to smoke with her.
“Shoes o-off, I know I know. Wouldn’t want to mess up your pink carpet.” He cuts her off, sliding his shoes off in the process. She smiles and skips past him, completely missing the way Matt watches her ass jiggle.
He sucks in a sharp breath and follows her into the living room. As he sits down on the couch, he notices a wine glass and a small charcuterie board on the coffee table. “Enjoying yourself tonight?” He questions as he opens up his bag, starting to pull out the paraphernalia. “Hm? Oh yes! It’s Saturday so I figured I’d just relax!”
He hums and grabs her weed jar off the table. As he fills the pink jar, Y/n goes to grab her wallet. She walks over to the stand her purse is on and looks for the small compact. Her brows furrow when she doesn’t see it.
“Where the hell is it?” She asks herself. She walks into the kitchen and looks across the counters, thinking maybe she placed it there.
She was wrong.
She goes to her bedroom and looks for it there, but once again she shows up empty-handed.
She bites her lip and begins to panic.
She’s not dumb, she knows how Matt is. He’s about his money and doesn’t appreciate people coming in the way of that. She’s heard the stories of Matt beating people an inch away from death for not giving him his payment.
He wouldn’t hurt her…right?
She begins to frantically run around her room, checking every crevice possible. She gets on her knees and checks under her bed, not noticing Matt walking in.
“Everything ok Princess?” She squeals in shock and quickly sits up, turning around with wide eyes.
“Hm?” She asks nervously.
He squints, noticing her timid posture. “I asked if everything was ok, you seem nervous.” She bites her lip and looks down, scared to tell him about the situation.
“Princes- I can’t find my wallet!” She spits out.
The silence between them is deafening, you could hear a pin drop.
“Matt I’m so-Shut up.” She quickly shuts her mouth hearing his tone. He’s never spoken to her like that, always making sure he spoke to her softly.
“You know, I had a very rough night. First, I had a bunch of high schoolers blowing up my phone because Chris was a dumbass who gave out my number, then the same high schoolers tried to fuck me over-“Her heart beats faster as he walks closer to her kneeling frame.
“I handled it though, but you want to know what?” Her hand shakes as Matt’s hand disappears behind his back and reappears with a gun.
She knew Matt carried, he was a dealer for Christ's sake, He would be dumb not to, however, she didn’t expect to have it possibly used on her.
The thought makes the dampness in her shorts worse.
Her eyes stay trained on the weapon as Matt stops in front of her, her whole body shaking. “I’m sick and tired of people messing with me and my money.”
She looks up at him with glossy eyes, her bottom lip wobbling slightly. “I-I don’t know where my wallet is! M-Matt I’m sorry I’m not trying to m-mess with your money!”
He coos sees the tears run down her face, raising the hand with the gun to wipe her tears. She flinches away making Matt take hold of her face, keeping her in place.
“A-are you going to hurt me!”
“Hurt you? Oh I’d never do that to you princess, you’re my favorite.” He whiles more of her tears away, enjoying the way her eyes glimmer in submission.
“And because you’re my favorite, I’m giving you a chance to make it up to me.”
“Make it up to you?” She sniffles. Matt places the gun on her nightstand, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.
“You have two options. I can leave with the weed I gave you and you no longer are my favorite buyer or, you blow me. Because you and I both know there was always tension between us and I can see the wetness seeping through those grey shorts of yours.”
She moves around a bit knowing he was right. Her Saturday nights were always spent drinking wine and masturbating to the thought of her dealer.
She never got the chance to masturbate due to Matt coming over. Now she has the opportunity for something even better.
Matt could see the cogs turning in her head, an internal battle to determine if she’s scared or turned on going on in her mind.
Matt would never actually hurt the girl, she’s too precious. He’s always had a soft spot for her, giving her more weed for a cheaper price, setting everything aside for her. Hell, he even came over to kill a spider for her one night despite having to do a drop-off.
He watches as her hands reach for his belt, “if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I may be irritated but I’m not forcing you into anything. Say the word and I’ll leave princess.”
“I don’t want you to leave…”
He smirks down at her and lets go of wrists,
“Then work for it princess.”
The sexual tension is bursting at the seams, begging to be released. It’s been a long time coming, the two finally addressing the sexual tension between the two.
She pulls down his jeans and boxers, allowing his cock to spring free. She instantly clenches her legs together seeing the aching phallus. It was long and had the perfect girth, a vein running up the side stopping at his mushroom tip that was a blushing red.
She wraps her manicured hand around the base and slowly begins jerk. Matt lets out a shakey exhale and closes his eyes.
“Come on princess you have to work harder than this,” she parts her lips and allows her tongue to dart out, kitten licking his tip before swirling her tongue around it.
She eventually wraps her lips around the tip, starting to bob her head, her hand working whatever else she couldn’t fit.
“Fuck- just like that princess.” Matt bites his lip watching her plump ones wrap around him. He’s been waiting for this moment, waiting for the day he gets to have his favorite girl the way his twisted mind desires.
His moans go straight to her core, the ache becoming bigger and bigger. She reaches into her shorts and begins to toy with her own clit.
Matt takes notice and chuckles, “Such a fucking whore,” she moans around him making him buck his hips in return. She gags, spit immediately pooling out the sides of her mouth.
“Shit-“ He removes the hand wrapped around him and demands for her to open her mouth. She does as told and instantly closes her eyes as Matt begins to fuck her throat.
Her gagging and choking noises bounce off the walls, driving Matt’s need for release.
She pulls her hand away from her clit, holding on to his thighs as he stalls in her throat. She looks up at him through salty tears as her body lurches, the salty liquid in her throat.
He groans loudly and bites his lip feeling her throat close around him as she swallows his seed.
He pulls away leaving Y/n to take a big breath, coughing slightly.
He should have stopped there, he should have told her that her payment had been taken, but he couldn’t.
Before he could even make his move, Y/n darts up and smashes her lips against his. She straddles his knee and grinds down, jerking her hips like a dog in heat. Matt helps her, grasping her hips tightly and moving her. He swallows her moans and whimpers, shoving his tongue in her mouth.
She pulls away panting, her eyes filled with lust and admiration.
“P-please Matt?”
“What do you want princess? My fingers? I always noticed you looking at them as I roll up. What about my mouth? Or do you want me to fuck you?”
“I-I don’t know- Do you think you deserve any of that?” He holds her hips in place, preventing her from grinding against his thigh.
“You think you deserve any of that considering you don’t have my money.”
She whines and tries to rutt against him, “Please! I’ll have it next time!” He finds her pleas pathetic but arousing at the same time.
He hums and flips them over, getting closer to her face.
“You’ll have it next time?” He begins to grind against her center.
She vigorously nods her head, more pleas and promises tumbling out of her mouth as he grinds against her.
"Good girl."
It takes everything in Matt to pull away and yank his pants and boxers back up. "M-Matt? What are you doing?"
"Your hard work paid off princess," He winks before walking out of the bedroom and trotting down the stairs, attempting to ignore the bulge in his pants
He hears a soft thud before fast footsteps follow him. "Where are you going?!" She follows him to the living room, watching as he packs up his bag.
"Leaving." He answers nonchalantly. Y/n stands there perplexed, the ache in between her legs sadly fading. "But you said you would- I never said anything princess. I never said I would fuck you, I said you need to work for it since you couldn't pay me with money." He finds it cute the way her face scrunched up, her brows furrowing as she opens and closes her mouth like a fish out of water.
He slings the bag over his shoulder and stands in front of her, "Don't be sad princess, there's always next time-" She follows him to the door where he slips on his shoes.
"That's not fair!" She stomps her foot like a child, except she's not a child, she's a grown woman.
Matt stares at her with a stone face, taking a step closer. Y/n takes a small step back seeing his usual bright blue eyes darken, his posture becoming firm.
"What's not fair is the fact you didn't pay me princess, but I'm not going to hold it against you after all I finally got head from my favorite buyer," he smirks and turns back to the door. He puts one foot outside before turning back to her.
"Oh and Y/n?"
"What Matt?"
"Your wallet was on the couch this whole time."
"Wha-" Matt cuts her off by turning around and closing the door.
She rushes into the living room and looks at the couch.
Sure enough, the wallet was there the whole time.
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TAGLIST 🍑
@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush
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lilasamaaa · 16 hours
Text
In the crowd | Carlos Sainz x Reader
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Genres | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.
Word count | 3.6K.
Warnings | Alcohol consumption, drugs, mentions of violence.
Summary | Reader's an engineer at Scuderia Ferrari in Maranello. While attending the season's launch party, her drink gets spiked.
Author's Note | Hi all! After the longest time, I've felt the need to come back here for some silly writing. New blog because the last one got cringe. Let me know what you think!
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One might think that after two years within the scuderia, the season’s launch parties would make her less uneasy. That after two years of being apart of the engineering team, she would finally be used to attending public gatherings. That after two years, she’d be a natural at walking in the open, feeling the glances slide over her figure. She is stunningly beautiful. Perhaps that's her burden. She doesn't realize it. 
When she walks across the paddock or the stands, she knows people are staring at her. She avoids meeting their gazes, feeling embarrassed. She thinks there must be something wrong with her outfit, with her gait. Why else would they stare for so long?
In Maranello, there’s a bakery at the corner of the HQ building where she stops every morning. The cashier always offers her something extra. A coffee. An additional pastry. She finds him polite, very customer-oriented. One morning, as she was freeing her croissant from the paper napkin it was wrapped in, she’d discovered a phone number scrawled in pen ink, with a hastily drawn smiley face. She’d stared at the napkin, perplexed, seated at her desk. He must have made a mistake, she thinks. It must have been meant for the customer before her. The one with the beautiful blonde curls and the Chanel perfume. She didn't call, didn't send a message. She continued to visit the bakery. The cashier never mentioned the number, proving her theory.
Someone brushing past her brings her back to earth. The party is in full swing, and she’s just not. She spots her colleagues bustling around the buffet and the bar, engrossed in lively conversations. While some don't even notice her, others wave their hands, encouraging her to join them. She forces a smiles, returns the wave. Then she tightens her grip around her clutch. Anything to make her feel like she’s in control. To make her forget that the music’s too loud, the lights too vibrant, the air too hot. 
She doesn't remember ever feeling comfortable in her body. Years of growing up in an unstable family where love was doled out sparingly do that to a person. 
"Hey," comes a familiar voice. She turns her head, her big eyes catching sight of Livio’s, one of her colleagues. "Are you not dancing?" he continues, a drink in hand. His whiskey breath hits her straight on. She discreetly glances at her watch, noting that it's barely nine.
"I haven't had enough to drink for that," she replies, trying to dodge the invitation.
"Let's go get you something then," Livio responds, grabbing her arm and heading towards the bar.
She's noticed that men always do that with her. Not just her colleagues, but people she doesn't know either. She's too kind, too gentle; she never raises her voice. So they grab her by the hips, the arms, the wrists. Anything is an excuse to touch her. She hates it.
"What do you want?" Livio asks.
Nothing, really, but she can't say that.
"Something sweet, please. I don't like strong alcohol," she replies. Livio seems to ponder her question for a second, his mouth pursed.
"I have something for you to try, wait," he continues, signaling to the bartender. "You're going to like it, don't worry."
A few seconds later, a glass of Plymouth is placed in front of her, and she looks up at Livio. Does he think I've never tasted gin in my life? she wonders, puzzled. She would like to refuse the drink, ask for the cherry liqueur she discovered last time indeed. But already, Livio has grabbed her glass and hands it to her with a big smile. "Salute," he exclaims, downing his own glass in one gulp.
Cries and applause suddenly echo in the large reception hall, causing her to turn her head. It takes her a few minutes to understand the reason for this sudden commotion. Until she sees them, a few meters away.
Charles and Carlos.
Her eyes can't seem to tear away from the two pilots making their way through the crowd to a small stage where a microphone is set up. It's tradition : to kick off the season in style, the entire team eagerly awaits the drivers' speeches. Everyone wants to hear their words, their encouragements, their hopes and goals for the season.
A friend once asked her if she knew Charles and Carlos personally. She can't really say yes. That would be a lie. She's exchanged words with each of the athletes before, giving them information about the race, their car, and the expected weather. These exchanges have always been brief and cordial. Professional. Nothing more.
Even though... No, she thinks, lightly shaking her head. That was nothing. But still...
It had happened just before the race in Singapore, last year.
A friend from engineering school had moved there at the beginning of the year, and they had agreed to meet for dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the years spent at Polytechnique, studying (a bit), suffering (a lot), and getting drunk (a whole lot).
She had chosen a long emerald green silk dress, slit up to mid-thigh. The perfect balance between classy and sexy. She had no intention of charming her companion - notoriously attracted to men, anyway - but this meal was the perfect excuse to leave her eternal Ferrari jumpsuits for something more feminine.
In the long corridor leading to the elevator, she'd suddenly felt on a catwalk, letting herself get caught up in the moment and rolling her hips perhaps a tad too exaggeratedly. The person emerging from the corner at the far end of the corridor surprised her, but not enough to disrupt her stride, her heels clicking against the floor.
She had recognized him immediately, of course.
Dressed in a simple fitted black polo and a pair of dark jeans, his eyes had not left hers throughout their crossing. When the two had finally reached the same level, she'd breathed out a small "Good evening, Carlos," suddenly insecure about everything. Her outfit. Her gait. The messy bun revealing her neck. The cleavage leaving no room for a bra and showing the beginning of her breasts.
He had passed her, nodding in acknowledgment, and each had continued on their way. She was certain... No, almost certain, that she had dreamt the words that had followed.
"That's one lucky guy."
Yes, she was almost certain she had dreamt it. Watching the Spaniard in the distance take hold of the microphone and tap it gently to check the connections, she became increasingly convinced. There was no chance that this man, chiseled from marble, could have noticed her. Desired her.
His accent echoes throughout the room, and she instinctively closes her eyes, as if bathed in the gentle sun of Madrid. She's not listening - not really - only catching words here and there. "Truly an honor," "Very impressed by your efforts," "Promising changes." But her mind is elsewhere, between Maranello and Singapore, tethered to the memory that makes her lower abdomen tingle in the sweetest of ways.
"And now, it's time to celebrate!" Carlos says as the room erupts with joy and anticipation.
"Earth to you?" comes a much less pleasant voice than the one that has just quieted down.
"I'm sorry, what?" she says, returning her attention to Livio.
"Oh, wow, you've got to be kidding me. Is it just me, or are you completely absorbed by this guy?" Livio replies, his mouth twisted in a grimace.
"Who?" she asks, genuinely confused.
"Sainz. You were hanging on his every word."
"I just think it's nice that they're giving an encouraging speech. Both of them," she explains, avoiding the Italian's gaze.
"Yeah, okay. Should we get another drink?" he asks, taking hold of her arm again.
She wants to protest. She can still taste the gin at the back of her mouth. It can't have been more than twenty minutes since her first drink. But Livio is already almost dragging her behind him, clearly determined not to let her escape tonight. And once again, that hand locks around her arm. Firm. Not open to discussion. She feels something almost territorial in the gesture, something that strongly displeases her, so she vows to mention it to Livio. Someday. Not tonight.
This time, he doesn't even pretend to care about what she wants to drink, ordering two whiskies straight away. She hates it. The taste, the look, what this alcohol does to her mind and body. But Livio has already slipped two bills to the bartender, and a moment later, the amber liqueur lands in her right hand.
While her drinking companion is already tilting his head back, clearly unaware that this type of alcohol is to be savored and not downed in one go, she observes the glass, intrigued by the few bubbles that are forming on the surface. I had no idea whiskey could do that, she thinks before bringing the liquid to her lips.
A few minutes later, she's managed to shake off Livio by claiming she needed to use the restroom. She crosses paths with Carlos walking in the other direction, maybe three people ahead of her, but he doesn't notice her.
In front of the restroom mirror, touching up her lipstick, her focus changes as she sees a drop of sweat trickle down her temple and slide slowly onto her cheek. I'm rather cold, though, she thinks, almost suppressing a shiver. Her head suddenly feels very light. She blames the alcohol. Putting her lipstick back in her clutch and tucking a strand of hair that threatened to escape from her bun, she pushes the restroom door open again, bracing herself to face the social world once more.
Passing by the buffet, a wave of nausea washes over her, forcing her to stop for a few seconds, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.
"I thought it was you," echoes the sunny accent in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she wishes their new encounter, one that she'd admit she's dreamed about, had happened differently. At a better time. A time when she wasn't battling a fierce urge to throw up.
"Are you okay?" Carlos inquires, raising his hand as if to support her but stopping halfway.
She takes a few seconds to push the unpleasant sensations from her body as far away as possible before lifting her head, opening her eyes, and being rewarded with the exquisite sight of his luscious hair and amber eyes.
"Hi," she manages to utter in a faint voice. "Great speech," she continues, still leaning against the table.
"You look pale," the driver responds, looking concerned.
The words escape her lips before they even reach her brain. She regrets them instantly. Something inside her just give way, like a dam.
"Sorry. I must have looked better in Singapore," she says.
Carlos widens his eyes, surprised, before letting out an awkward laugh.
"Sorry for staring at you like that, that night. You were... Well, you are...," he continues, seeming to search for his words.
She would so love to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say. But dizziness seizes her, and she feels herself tipping against the table. Well, almost, because suddenly, an arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against a chest that, yes, she's also dreamed about several times. But not like this. Not in this state.
"Hey," Carlos says, his voice tinged with worry.
"I'm so sorry, this never happens to me. I must have had one drink too many, I—"
"I saw you at the bar not even ten minutes ago," the Spaniard continues. "No alcohol hits you that fast. Not even shots."
"I'm fine," she says, and the pilot understands that she's saying it not only to reassure him but herself as well. And, as if the words had commanded it, the fog in her mind dissipates a bit. Enough for her to gently detach herself from the pilot, finding her balance on her own two feet again. She'd like to take advantage of this newfound clarity to keep the Spaniard close to her. Him, that she never crosses paths with, whom she never speaks to, and yet who appeals to her so much.
But Charles arrives. He smiles at her, asks if she's okay, if she's enjoying the evening, and oh, "I'll borrow him for a moment, I'm so sorry, sponsors, you know," and oh, once again, she finds herself alone at the buffet, watching the two men walk away, Carlos still watching her as he reluctantly retreats.
"I was beginning to think he'd never leave," Livio says, leaning against the buffet, his hip brushing against hers.
She wants to scream. Oh, how badly she wants to.
Sensing that she's not going to respond, the Italian tries his luck again.
"Should we dance? You seem intoxicated enough, now."
She doesn't even have time to respond before her colleagues guides her onto the dance floor, eagerly pressing his body against hers. His breath, previously tinged with whiskey, now betrays hints of tequila. The guy never has enough, she thinks, twirling reluctantly.
And there it goes again. The nausea, the queasiness. Spinning her around like a puppet doesn't help, she tells herself. She comes to a halt, cutting off Livio's momentum, causing some dancing couples to narrowly avoid colliding with them. Feeling vulnerable, she tries to get away, to seek refuge elsewhere. But her wrist is once again trapped.
"You don't look well. Come on, let's get you some fresh air," Livio says, heading towards one of the large glass doors.
She's often been described as naive by her loved ones. She believes that the whole world means well towards her, never suspects anyone of ill intentions. She would even say about herself that she has no instincts, let alone survival instincts. No sense of danger. Yet, perhaps for the first time in her life, something deep inside her is screaming not to follow the man. Her signals are on alert. Everything is flashing red in her mind. For her, it's a first. So, without thinking, without worrying about offending her colleague, she acts.
"I don't need to go outside," she says, trying to free herself from his grasp. She's sweating. She feels the unpleasant sensation of a thin layer of dampness creeping over her neck, her back, her hands.
Her feeble resistance is no match for Livio's strength, as he pulls her outside despite her protests. The music is too loud for anyone to hear their altercation. Divided between the buffet, the bar, and the dance floor, no one pays attention to this mismatched couple, to the determined man dragging a struggling woman behind him.
The door closes heavily behind them, stifling the sounds of the party, captured on the other side. It's cold outside, she feels it because her whole body shivers. But she, who was cold just a short while ago, feels like she's boiling. She raises her hand to her forehead, wiping away another bead of sweat that's formed between her eyebrows. What's happening to me? she thinks internally, troubled. Alcohol has never put her in such a state before.
"I'm so glad I ran into you tonight," Livio begins, either oblivious or indifferent to the young woman's condition.
She doesn't respond, feeling her head spinning, leaning against the wall behind her, gasping to try to catch her breath. Trying to control the burning heat that's engulfing her body.
"You look really beautiful tonight. Quite a change from the work overalls, huh!" the man continues.
She's not exactly sure at what moment he slipped between her legs, facing her, just a few centimeters from her face. But he's there, too close, forcing her to turn her head to the side to avoid his gaze - and his alcohol-laden breath.
"I said, you look really beautiful tonight," Livio says. "Are you not going to say anything?"
"What do you expect me to say to that?" she says, jaw clenched.
"Do you find me attractive?" the man asks, meeting her gaze.
The warning signals reappear along with the nausea. She barely has time to push the man away and lean to the side before emptying her stomach inches away from his feet. The naivety stops there. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, realization hitting her painfully.
"What did you do to me?" she asks, her knees giving way under her weight, sending her crashing to the ground. He sneers, rolling his eyes, as she crawls a few meters, trying to put some distance between them. She's now sitting on the ground, her back to the wall.
"What? What are you talking about?" the Italian replies, offended.
"Did you put something in my drink?" she asks again.
"Come on, now. I've been helping you ever since you said you weren't feeling well. What kind of monster do you think I am?"
For a moment, her colleague's wounded look makes her seriously doubt herself. Maybe it really is just the alcohol, she thinks, trying to calm her racing mind. After all, why would someone deliberately choose to harm her? Why jump to that conclusion? Livio has always been charming. A bit clingy, but charming.
"I'm sorry for implying that. I'm gonna head back inside," she says, trying to stand up.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Livio answers, pushing her back down.
"What? why?" she asks, surprised.
"It wouldn't be very wise to parade in front of your colleagues and superiors in such a poor state," the Italian begins, his tone almost mocking. "It really doesn't give a good impression of you. It's not very professional."
"I haven't done anything, just had a few drinks," she responds, annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with that."
"You're so wasted you can't even stand. At a work event. Do you want to get fired or something?"
She opens her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words come out. She can't seem to figure out if Livio is with her or against her anymore. His words are harsh, aggressive, but deep down, the engineer probably isn't wrong. She struggled to secure a position here, at Ferrari. Even though she believes herself to be fairly skilled at her job and puts in long hours, there are hundreds of others doing the same work as her every day. And hundreds more who could replace her if the need arose.
She's not indispensable. She's not even that good at speaking Italian, having always had more ease in English or in French, even though she spends the majority of her evenings reading books in the language. She's just a tiny cog in the machine. She thinks about Carlos, too. What would he think, seeing me stumbling in the middle of the dance floor like a mad woman?
"Let me drive you home," Livio says, extending his hand. "Spare you the embarrassment.
She hadn't realized how tired she was. The offer is rather tempting. Getting back to her apartment, her cat, her bed. Above all, escaping the crowd. Forgetting this evening. Forgetting whatever she thought there was with Carlos, too, while she's at it. As a stronger wave of sleep washes over her, she temporarily closes her eyes.
"Come on," he says. "Let's get you in the car."
After her brain, her legs refuse to cooperate too. Her body barricades itself, trying to keep her firmly sheltered. Losing patience, Livio hoists her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest against the position she finds herself in. That's so unladylike. Her last few connected neurons grapple over strange thoughts. I hope nobody sees my underwear, she thinks before her brain disconnects once again.
She's so far gone, yet the next words sound crystal-clear in her ears.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"
Sounds like Carlos, she thinks, delirious.
"What does it look like to you? I'm bringing her home. She's wasted," she hears, and she thinks it might be Livio, because she feels his body shaking with each words.
"There's no way I'm letting you leave with her. Put her down."
"Yeah? So you can have your way with her?"
"No, so I can punch you in the fucking face," the accent-thick voice shouts.
She must have passed out for good because she doesn't remember anything else. When she wakes up next, which feels like an eternity later, she's sitting against a wall, this time indoors, wrapped in a golden emergency blanket. There's no more music. Opening one eye, then the next, she's met with Carlos' brown ones. She tries to speak but her mouth feels dry. The Spaniard hands her a glass of water, helping her bring it to her lips.
"I somehow managed to look even worse," she jokes, reminiscing their earlier encounter.
"The paramedics have just arrived. They're going to take you to the hospital for a check-up," he says and she nods.
"Thank you, Carlos," she replies.
"I haven't done the half of what I would have wanted," he says, regret filling his voice.
"What do you mean?"
"This has to be the worst timing ever, But I... I actually wanted to ask you out, before Charles interrupted us and before, well... this," he says, gesturing around them.
He doesn't see it, but hidden under the blanket, she pinches her arm. Hard. Just to make sure she won't wake up a second time. Seeing that nothing changes, she lets out a little laugh.
"If you wanted me to wear that silky green dress, I'm so sorry, but I ruined it in the washer."
"You can wear a garbage bag for all I care," Carlos replies, looking at her fondly. "You'll still stand out in the crowd."
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sneaky-eel · 3 days
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Desmond, bartender in 2000s-2010s New York would absolutely binge shitty reality tv and adore eavesdropping on patrons when he can't get his drama fix. He's the RPG tavern owner who you ask if he has heard any rumors and his eyes light up because now he can info dump all the shit he hears. This follows him to the past, where now he has to actively seek out this entertainment.
He abuses his enhanced senses to sit on roofs and listen in with a hand to his mouth like, "oh my god. They were roommates." He is both the best informant and the worst because, while he is a master at getting information, the details he focuses on are useless to the Order.
"Yeah so this guy will be here at this time at this place, whatever. But! More importantly this guy has been having an affair with his wife's sister AND her brother and-"
"Please, Desmond, I am begging you just tell me the information for the mission."
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In Altair's time, Malik was originally Desmond's go to but after being chased out one to many times for "loitering and disturbing the peace of the bureau" (i.e. Malik's peace) Desmond switches to the Rafiq in Damascus since he "at least appreciates me." Eventually Malik would begrudgingly miss his presents and send a request for him to come back because Desmond is the only one he can rant at about Altair.
Altair does not know what the hell Desmond is talking about half the time, but now he does know the baker has three sons that his wife never knew of and one of the sons has shown up at the baker's home.
He normally will just let Desmond keep talking cause he likes his voice.
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In Ezio's time he is best friends with Claudia and her girls love him. He'll drop in and gossip with them about their patrons or even warn them about some of them. "Be careful I heard that he has some craziness going on between the legs." or the girls will ask questions about Ezio.
"I heard he is a beast in bed, is that true?"
"Well you didn't hear it from me, buuuut~"
He is 100% going off of hazy animus memories, but all the courtesans totally think he has either A.) slept with Ezio or B.) is actively sleeping with Ezio
With Claudia he talks about the goings on in Tiber Island and what Ezio is up to. Ezio doesn't know how the hell his sister knows everything he is doing or why he gets a message from her forbidding him from doing something he hasn't even gotten to do yet and Desmond just stands off to the side sweating.
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Connor is gonna go gray early with how often Desmond just disappears from the Homestead because he seems hellbent on not staying still as it gets "to boring there". Desmond will normally pop up in the strangest of places. Either Connor will find him, head tilted like a dog as he listens in on a group or Desmond will just hunt Connor down himself. "Heard you were in the area."
At time he loves it because Desmond always has a ready flow of information and he is very good at sowing discontent with it, making for good distractions. On the other hand he can do without the open commentary or rampant attention he gives any interaction Connor has with his father.
"It's so much more interesting when it's not me"
*Connor and Haytham both glare at him*
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befemininenow · 2 days
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My coming out as a trans lesbian. (A message to my followers.)
Yes, everyone. I am "gay", or should I say, I'm a lesbian.
This may come as a shock to some of you since I would talk about "hot men" and even make captions about attracting hunks and whatnot. If you notice an absurd amount of those kind of captions surfacing this past week until now, that's because I was dealing with comphet, short for compulsive heterosexuality. In reality, I do not like men nor am I attracted to masculinity.
Why until now? One, it’s because I wanted to wait for the right time to come out and it was coincidentally on Lesbian Visibility Day. Two, it’s something I've been questioning ever since I found out I was trans. This didn’t happen in a day or two. It’s been years and I would have thought I was just pansexual. However, I was not sure whether I genuinely liked boys or if I just liked their validation. It turns out it's only the latter and I was questioning whether I was really gay or just gynosexual. I admit that getting positive reception from them turned me on and I could see the kindness and affection they displayed towards other women (something that really made me euphoric). But the moment you would place me next them for more, say, intimacy (I'm trying to keep it PG), I felt that spark turn off. Don't even get me started when they're bare or worse, send me D-picks (it's so nasty).
Now, I've never did any of that IRL. But, I've tried to interact with them through social sites. Not just in Tumblr, but in other sites like Grindr. If you ever think of creating a Grindr to meet, don't bother. It's hot garbage! All of them were chasers and not a single one was attractive. Only one "guy" seemed to be "cute"; it was a femboy, who was commencing their transition into a woman. Those were the only men I thought I was attracted to, but the reality is: I was only attracted to their femininity, but not their body or intimacy. Femboys are still men and I'm not attracted to men.
That got me questioning: Am I really only liking people for their femininity or do I genuinely only like girls? To make a long story short, I've never felt so much better than imagining myself being the lovely girl... of another girl! I always loved women as a guy, but now that I'm about to transition, being into women as a girl feels so right for me! No more comphet for me!
I know this is not the norm on these kind of blogs as the majority tend to be attracted to masculinity. However, I do want to say that even trans lesbians exist on the feminization scene. That leads me to tell all of you for the next update: You won't be seeing anymore new straight trans girl captions after the first few days of the next month. That's why you saw those kind of captions bombard my blog these past few days. It's just my way of saying "Let me just get it done with". I'm actually glad you enjoyed them, but I just don't feel any connection to those kind of captions anymore. I'll try to upload them when I can since I've been busier than usual.
Anyways, I'm happy you read this very long post. Even if you're not a lesbian, I hope this note at least gives you an insight on not keeping your true feelings locked any longer. Everyone deserves to be themselves. You should too.
Sincerely, Nikki.
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sxcret-garden · 19 hours
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3rd Desire ღ A Little Jealousy [M]
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ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ feat.: Yeosang & Wooyoung ღ words: ~4.8k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, clothed sex, teasing, tiny bit of finger sucking (idol receiving), oral (idol receiving), he’s a lil mean again, hair pulling, biting, dacryphilia, bit of brat-taming, reader goes into subspace, sir kink, fingering (reader receiving), unprotected sex) ღ warnings: heavy dom-sub dynamic, (he runs his hand through reader’s hair and picks her up)
Desc.: When you’re meeting up with your classmate and friend Yeosang in order to finally finish that dreaded uni project that’s been keeping you on edge for the past weeks, you don’t expect him to bring along his flirtatious friend Wooyoung. What you also don’t expect is said friend knowingly attempting to flirt with you in front of your boyfriend, who just can’t help but let the hint of jealousy it makes him feel influence his actions once you’re in the comfort of your own home.
Author's note: This is actually one of my fav chapters so far, and 80% of the reason is because the first scene was so much fun to write kasjdfkljsöldka
← prev chapter ღ next chapter →
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Arriving at the café a few minutes early, you find Yeosang already waiting for you. You came here from your university dorms, about 20 minutes by bus, so you didn’t expect to be late, but you tend to always leave a little earlier than you have to anyway, just to be sure.
Your meet-up place is a cute little café that turns out to be a lot more spacious than one would assume looking at it from the outside, and it serves all the classics, as well as a couple of drinks that are especially popular these days.
“Did everybody send you their parts?” you ask, starting up your laptop, while Wooyoung watches the alarm that’s supposed to tell you when your drinks are ready.
“I thought they were supposed to send them to you…?” Yeosang replies, eyes widened because he doesn’t want this meeting to already turn into a catastrophe. The frustration that your teammates have continuously nurtured with their incompetence over the past two weeks bubbles up deep inside you again, until you check your emails and you find that they did indeed send their parts to you.
“Sorry, my bad,” you sigh deeply.
“It can happen,” Yeosang assures you, while the alarm goes off, shaking the whole table as it vibrates, and Wooyoung immediately grabs it and gets up. You’re glad he’s at least being useful in that regard - otherwise you’re not sure why Yeosang brought his friend from an entirely different major along to your café date of hell.
“He insisted,” your teammate tells you upon posing your question. “Actually I don’t know why I brought him either.”
“Excuse me?!” Wooyoung exclaims in offense as he returns with your order, having heard his friend’s reply. But Yeosang is quick to wave it off.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” To your surprise his loud friend merely sits down while eyeing him with a doubtful expression, but he doesn’t say anything more to that. Finding yourself more fascinated than anything else by their dynamic, you shake your head eventually and redirect your attention to the screen in front of you. 
“I’ll send you the parts so we can go over them together,” you announce as you’re already dropping the files into your kakao chat with Yeosang, the familiar tone coming from the speakers of his laptop signaling an incoming message that tells you he received them quickly. Wooyoung leans in, nosily looking at the files his friend is opening.
“Looks good… if you ignore the formatting,” Yeosang shades, making you chuckle, and Wooyoung lets you hear a loud “Hey!”
“You didn’t do yours any better!” he teases Yeosang, attempting to pinch his side but his friend evades the attack. 
“Personal space,” he just remarks, pushing Wooyoung away with his flat palm against his cheek. Once again you find yourself fascinated by their cartoonish behaviour most of all, but you don’t comment on what just unfolded in front of your eyes. “And also, mine doesn’t look very interesting, but at least it has the correct formatting.”
“Yeah, this professor doesn’t really have an eye for aesthetics,” you add, grinning yet unhappy about the way the paper you were supposed to put together looks overly sterile. “But I guess that’s what science wants.”
“Well, the contents are what matters,” Yeosang adds, this time not defending himself when Wooyoung throws an arm around his shoulders, but you can tell he’s not happy about the pda. With curious eyes he leans in, skimming through the text on Yeosang’s screen, and you give him an annoyed sigh. You really just want to finish this damn project already, before it consumes any more of your nerves. 
“Oh. Sorry,” Wooyoung grins as he notices your distress, moving away from the computer as he straightens his back, and you’re not sure what to make of his reaction. Telling yourself to focus on the problem at hand instead of him, you begin pasting the text into one collective document, while Yeosang starts reading through everything in search of any possible errors.
“Looks good,” he eventually announces, and you agree, having joined him in proofreading everything. 
“You two sure are fast,” Wooyoung comments, and he shoots you a gaze filled with mischief.
“This is the tenth time we read through these, so…” you explain.
“I see… Yeosang here told me about how horrible the others were to work with,” the guy sitting next to your classmate continues.
“You’re also horrible to work with, and you’re not even a part of this,” Yeosang mutters under his breath, causing you to chuckle, and Wooyoung immediately complains.
“That hurt! I know when to be serious, in contrast to some people.” He says it so ominously that you think at least Yeosang must know who he’s talking about, but he too shoots him a questioning look. “Whatever,” Wooyoung brushes it off with a hand gesture. “You’re done now, aren’t you? So we can finally get to know each other,” he adds, directed at you. “This guy told me a lot about you, so I’ve been dying to meet you.” He points at Yeosang, whose ears grow bright red and he waves his hands in front of his face.
“It’s not what it sounds like. I don’t talk about you all the time, this guy here just likes to blow things way out of proportion,” he explains, and with the way Wooyoung is grinning from ear to ear now, all you’re left with is to believe Yeosang’s words.
“Figured,” you say. “So? What did he tell you about me that made you so interested?” You give Wooyoung a challenging smile, and the guy is eating up your attention as he watches you with a spark in his eyes.
“How you took the lead in your project after everyone else did nothing, for example,” Wooyoung replies. “I respect people like that! You know, people who get things done.” You chuckle at his enthusiasm.
“Don’t be mistaken, I’m not usually the leader type. Just… when I need to be… for the sake of my own sanity.”
“I see,” Wooyoung says, leaning back in his chair now, taking on a comfortable stance.
“I’m sorry about him, I shouldn’t have brought him along,” Yeosang says, once again. “He flirts with everything that breathes in his direction, it means nothing. He’s just doing this for his own entertainment, but I can punch him for you if you want?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you say. “It’s fun to do this every once in a while.”
“Oh? What do you mean - every once in a while?” Wooyoung pries, a broad grin now playing his lips as he leans back in his chair. “You’re not the type to go out and meet people like this?”
“Not to flirt with them,” you laugh, directing your gaze towards the entrance of the café, where the image of Jongho walking inside has caught your eye. You decided to have him pick you up after your meeting with Yeosang, so that you could grab dinner together. You didn’t expect him to be here this early, though. “I’m not sure if my boyfriend would like that,” you add, looking back at Wooyoung, whose mouth forms the shape of an o, before he once again merely grins at you.
“I see, I see… but the fact that you flirted back at me tells me you like to live dangerously,” he remarks, before letting out a giggle that seems both very sudden, yet not out of character at all. Yeosang can only sigh beside him. He looks like he wants to snark at his friend for that, but he bites back the words, as your attention is visibly drawn elsewhere and you scoot over on the bench to make space for your boyfriend.
“Hello,” he greets the other two, politely bowing his head in front of them, before he sits beside you. And now you’re the one grinning to yourself, seeing his shyness that seems even weirder now, that you’re getting to know more and more very different sides to him.
“Wait… is that the boyfriend?” Wooyoung points his finger at the guy next to you, eyes raised in surprise.
“Yeah,” you answer.
“You’ve been talking about me?” Jongho asks, raising his eyebrows as well. There’s a hint of disbelief in his voice, and for a second you wonder if you should use this opportunity to tease him a bit. But of course Wooyoung, the loud one, is faster.
“She’s been talking about you.”
“Don’t believe a word he says,” Yeosang utters, before you can defend yourself. “He just says whatever.” Another highly offended Wooyoung-noise is what follows, while you feel Jongho tapping your arm lightly, and when you glance over to him you can see him quietly laughing. Apparently he finds their dynamic just as amusing as you do. 
“Yeah, so… that’s Yeosang, who I’ve been working on the project with. And that’s his friend Wooyoung, who has nothing to do with the project but came along anyway to be a distraction,” you introduce the two guys, then you point at your partner. “That’s my boyfriend Jongho.”
“You think I’m distracting?” Wooyoung retorts, because that appears to be all he heard, and he says it proudly and with this shit-eating grin on his face as he puts his elbow on the table, supporting his head with his chin in his palm. You can’t lie, his bold attempt to continue flirting with you in front of your boyfriend both makes you think he must be incredibly stupid, and somehow also makes you admire his courage.
“Not in the way you think,” you answer calmly, trying to sound almost cold. Next to Wooyoung, Yeosang is muttering an “oh my god”, but most importantly your boyfriend doesn’t react to it. Instead he diverts the conversation into a different direction, and in your head you thank him for it.
“So… were you able to finish everything?” he asks, and you nod.
“Almost,” you say. “The formatting needs to be checked again, but that’s Yeosang’s job. So… if you want to go get dinner now, we can!”
“Ah, no, I wasn’t trying to rush you,” he assures as he balances somewhere between seeming friendly and polite. 
You end up leaving pretty soon anyway. Yeosang informed you that he still had things to do (you assume he just wanted an excuse to get rid of Wooyoung) and so you packed your things and split up into pairs in front of the café, with your friend and his friend taking the route to the bus stop across the street, and you and Jongho walking a couple of blocks to get to a restaurant you’ve been wanting to try. It’s serving stew as its speciality, just right for a chilly evening like today.
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A groan of satisfaction escapes you as you link your hands above your head and stretch your arms and back after entering the apartment. Your boyfriend smiles at the sight in front of him as he puts his jacket on a hanger and then he follows you into the living room.
“Getting dinner there was a really good idea,” you remark as Jongho comes up to you from behind, placing his hands onto your hips and leaning in.
“Right? You should let me pick restaurants more often,” he mutters right beside your ear, and when you whirl around to get a proper look at his face, he laughs softly.
“I think it was my idea to go there?” you retort, taking offense in him attempting to take all the credit, but he’s quick to appease you.
“I know, I know, just joking.” You huff at his attitude with a smile, before he adds, “I thought you liked mischievous guys.” He walks away and towards the kitchen as you’re still confused about his words, but when you begin to have a hunch about what made him say this, he’s already out of sight. You follow him, finding him pouring himself a glass of water, and without a change in expression he takes a few sips. You can only stare at him, hoping for him to say anything to help you figure out whether that hunch is right or wrong, but he doesn’t look like he’s in a hurry. Setting down the glass, he seems to be thinking about something as he’s supporting his weight with his hands on top of the kitchen counter, and then, when he finally shoots you a glance, the expression on his face has changed.
“You liked that, didn’t you?”
“Liked what…?” Jongho pushes himself off the counter in front of him, taking a few steps towards you instead. He comes to a halt when you’re merely a few inches apart, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly, and his hand finds your face.
“That guy flirting with you,” he says, his voice dangerously low, and he lets his thumb trace the outline of your bottom lip. “You liked that.”
“I…” You gulp as you look up at him. So he did realize it. You should’ve known better than to assume you could hope he wouldn’t be able to read you that well. But you were mistaken. It seems he already learned to notice and correctly analyze even the smallest of signs, and you guess in some way that’s a good thing, you’re just not sure what this means in a situation like this.
“It’s fine, dear,” he speaks, his voice merely a whisper now, and he leans in to press one feathery light kiss onto your lips. “You can admit it.” Again, you find yourself gulping. But the sweetness of his kiss mixing in with the soothing effect his words have on you leave you unable to ponder on this for longer. And so you simply say it, without thinking about the consequences.
“I liked it.”
It was only yesterday that you had another conversation, figuring you should talk more in depth about your wants and what you don’t want, after he almost crossed a line last time. You talked about your relationship, your sexual relationship mostly, the kind of dynamic that’s slowly growing between the two of you, and the kind of dynamic you two wish for. Surprisingly, from what you’ve discussed at least, your wishes align mostly.
You both agreed you want more. More than a kink or two incorporated into your sex life. More than a barely noticeable difference in power. He made it clear he’s willing to go into this with you, take you by the hand, and that he’d make sure to satisfy you.
But you know he also wants to be satisfied himself. And it’s exciting you, thinking about it then, and thinking about it now, as he’s steering you towards the nearest wall, until your back gently comes in contact with it. It’s not much, no grand gesture, and yet you can already feel the flames of desire burning up in your stomach.
“I see.” He speaks slowly now, the tone in his voice sending a shiver down your spine and you know he can see you tremble. From excitement for what’s to come, and curiousity about what he plans to do with you now. “What?” He raises an eyebrow, one hand resting against the wall right next to your head, the other reaching out until his fingertips come in contact with your stomach, and he lets them dance up until he’s almost reached your throat. When he sees you gulp at his action, he huffs, as if laughing at you. “You think I’ll give you what you want that easily?” Jongho asks, pulling his hand away and you inevitably frown at him for it. “After flirting with another guy? After you tell me you liked it? I don’t think so.” He takes a few steps away. There’s a calm expression on his face, his look feels almost icy as he lets his gaze wander from your head down your body. “You should know who can please you best,” he warns. “Or, don’t tell me you think that cheeky guy could make you feel better than me?”
“No!” you respond immediately and without having to think about it.
“But you still liked the attention,” your boyfriend states, matter-of-factly. 
“Y-yeah…” you admit, making yourself smaller instinctively.
“Cute,” he huffs at your apologetic gesture, and there’s a hint of a smirk sitting on his face. You weren’t 100% sure about it before, whether he really is jealous or if he’s doing this for fun, but now you can clearly tell - he’s enjoying this. And that’s fine, because you talked about this too - what you’re about to get yourself into, and how far you’re both willing to go in the process.
“Come here,” Jongho orders along with a gesture of his hand and you oblige. You step closer, let him put his arms around you, and the kiss he presses onto your lips is surprisingly soft. Slowly, he moves his lips against yours, tilting his head so he could deepen the kiss eventually, taking his time as he runs the tip of his tongue along the front row of your teeth, and just when you begin to want him to kiss you more passionately, he parts from you. One look at your face, his darkened eyes making you shiver in his hold, then he brushes his lips against the corner of your mouth. Trailing kisses across your cheek and eventually halting beside your ear as he cups your face with both hands now.
“Get on your knees, beautiful.” You don’t hesitate, and you don’t protest. It’s like his words put you in a trance, making sure you wouldn’t even think of disobeying him. And so you do, you drop down to the floor in front of him, hands immediately fumbling with the button on his pants, because you know what he wants. There’s only one thing a guy could want when he tells you to get on your knees for him, and you’re set on giving him that. But your eagerness doesn’t go uncommented. “So greedy,” he mutters, as he calmly watches you pull down his pants and underwear, exposing his half hardened length. His hand finds its way into your hair, fingertips massaging your scalp and for a second as you glance up at him you think you can see his features soften. “You already know what to do, hm?” your boyfriend continues, yet you wait for the okay to touch him.
“Can I…?” you ask, making him let out a short laugh. And there it is again, that grin that would tell anyone that he knows he’s in control, and he’s enjoying it. 
“Are you gonna make me wait?” he poses a question in return, and in that same breath phrasing the answer himself. “I don’t think so.” 
You keep one hand resting on his thigh, while you wrap the other around his cock. Peering up at him to watch him as he watches you, you start moving your hand slowly, and the second your palm brushes against his head, you can see the way his lips part to make way for a quiet sigh. You bring your fist all the way back down his shaft, repeating the motion a few times, until you find a hint of impatience on his features.
“Dear…” he mutters, untangling his fingers from your hair to cup your chin instead. As he lifts it up, his thumb presses against your lips, and when you open your mouth to let out a shaky breath, he pushes the finger inside. Your eyelids fluttering shut, you meet him with the tip of your tongue, instinctually swirling it around his finger once, before you close your mouth around it and suck on it. “Like that…” Jongho breathes a praise in your direction, before pulling his thumb out of your mouth and putting his hand back on top of your head to steer your field of vision back towards his core. He stays quiet, but he wouldn’t have needed to say anything more anyway to get you to finally do what he wants you to. You move closer, extending your tongue for mere kitten licks, quick strokes that wouldn’t possibly be near satisfactory against the tip of his cock. You glance up at him again, seeing the impatience building up behind his gaze that won’t leave you, and for a moment you wonder whether you should try and see what happens if you push him a bit more. 
But your own hunger wins over that desire. He was probably right, you really are greedy today, because the second you wrap your lips around him, you find yourself moaning at the feeling of having him in your mouth. The hiss of pleasure he lets out forces you to suppress a grin. Instead, you take him in further, hollowing your cheeks as you let him fill you up with his size. 
His hips stay still. You wonder whether it would stay like this, whether he would make you do all the work and merely guide you into the pace he wants, as he is doing currently, with his fingers grasping onto strands of your hair, or if he would eventually lose patience and start fucking into your mouth. All you know is you’re fine with either, and yes, you’re eager to please him, eager to get him off. 
Your hand still wrapped around him moves along with your head for additional friction, and you keep peering up at his eyes, wanting to see the moment he breaks apart, and all the expressions leading up to it. And yet he stays in control, disappointingly much, so you take him in even further as you sink back down on him, until his tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag in response. You furrow your brows at the uncomfortable sensation, and yet you do it again with your next repetition of the movement. So long, until tears are starting to well up in your eyes, and that’s when he takes his hand away from your hair and cups your face instead, cursing at how good you’re being for him.
“Fuck, Y/N…” he groans, and now you can see the pleasure distorting his face - it’s not much, but it serves as a motivation to work even harder for him. The sound he lets out as you swallow around him makes you moan as well, until you move your head and your hand faster, and the lewd sounds of you sucking him off, as well as your boyfriend’s heavy breaths fill the room. “Y/N, stop,” he mutters, and you don’t, because you want to push him over the edge so desperately. Instead you mewl at the taste of his precum leaking onto your tongue, and you close your eyes, preparing yourself to take his load.
What you don’t prepare yourself for is him yanking your head away by your hair, the shock from the sudden action and the immediate wave of pleasure that follows as he growls,
“I said stop.”
“Yes, sir.”
A sudden weakness washes over you, and the only thing you can do is move your head up just a little bit, leaning into the touch of his hand on top of it. And you don’t miss the way the words affected him. After he had suggested you calling him that and you had refused, saying you found the thought of calling your boyfriend sir a bit weird, you know he didn’t expect you to say it after all. But you did. And now there’s an entirely new expression on his face, an entirely new burning passion reflecting in his eyes, and you know it’s only a matter of time until it burns you too.
“Get up,” he says eventually, and you do as told, finding yourself held up safely with his hands resting on your sides as soon as you stand. Your body feels light, almost like he’s taken control of your will, when he steers you back a few steps, into your original position against the wall. Without hesitation, he kisses you, teeth clashing together as he tears at your clothes, and he only parts from you to pull them off, piece by piece, one after the other, and when he has gathered half of them on a pile somewhere on the floor, he decides that should be enough. Your pants gone should do, and when his lips smash onto yours again, you feel his hand between your thighs, fingers prodding at your folds.
“Shit,” he hisses against your lips. “You’re fucking soaked… can’t wait to fuck you…” His words make your head spin, and the way his fingers slip inside you effortlessly only adds to your lightheadedness. You throw your arms around his frame, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt covering his back, and you buck your hips into his palm as he starts curling his fingers inside you. You can only mewl at the pleasure, sentences are too hard to form right now, maybe if you tried you could get out a few words with no correlation between them. 
“...p-please…” you slur, “...f-fuckme…” 
“Who do you belong to?” Jongho asks, his fingers working you at a speed that should give you time to answer, but that won’t keep you sane for long. And yet you can’t say anything, only pathetic whimpers come out when you open your mouth. “Who?” he repeats. “Is it me? Do you belong to me?”
“Y-yessir…” you manage to say, and he bites his bottom lip hard.
“That’s right.” You can hear his voice trembling as he speaks, and you let out another sorry excuse of a moan as he presses his thumb against your clit. “Gonna make you cum so good, pretty girl… just wait…” All you can do at this point is cling to him for dear life, incoherent whines and whimpers falling from your lips, in between words that are supposed to tell him you want to cum on his cock, but you’re not sure how much of that actually gets through to him. And still, when your walls are starting to clench around him and your whole body tenses up, he finally pulls out of you. With his hand soaked in your juices he gives himself another few strokes, before telling you to hold on tight and lifting you up with his hands placed on the underside of your thighs. You cry out as he pushes into you, tears welling up in your eyes again, and this time they fall. Rolling down your cheeks as the pleasure overwhelms you, arms wrapped around him so tightly that you’re not sure if maybe you are squeezing a bit too tightly after all. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters in this moment is the chase for your high, and it ends with merely a few of his thrusts. Your body shakes violently as your orgasm hits you, you bite his shoulder and yet the moans won’t stop escaping you, and as you do, he too comes undone. You keep clenching around him as you feel him spilling inside you with a groan, and even as you start coming down from your high, your body won’t stop trembling. 
He tries to help you stand, but realizes quickly that all attempts are futile. So he carefully lets you sink down onto the ground, staying close to you in order to keep holding onto you. 
“How was that?”
“Good…” you manage to whisper an answer, not having the energy for a more elaborate one, but your boyfriend understands.
“I’m glad.” Jongho collapses with his back against the wall next to you, letting you rest your head on top of his shoulder and him leaning his head against yours. His hand finds yours naturally, fingers intertwining, as your mind is still drowned in bliss from the afterglow of your orgasm.
“It was perfect, actually,” you say, correcting yourself. “You were perfect.” You lift your other hand up to comb your fingers through his short hair, eventually letting it rest against his cheek and bringing him in for a short but sweet kiss. And then there it is again, that soft smile appearing on his lips, and when you lift your head he buries his face in the crook of your neck - to hide that expression from you, as you assume. 
“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually call me that, after saying you didn’t want to at first,” he says, and you retort, questioningly,
“Sir?”
“Yeah…” Jongho looks away, still visibly affected by it, and you shoot him a mischievous glance.
“I’m… really enjoying this though. And I’d like to keep… trying new stuff too…” you speak, and your boyfriend gives you a smile.
“We just tried a lot of new stuff, and you already want more?” He gets up, walking over to one of the cupboards and getting you a glass of water. “Drink this, first of all,” he says as he hands it to you. “And tomorrow we can sit down and talk again.”
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girlgenius1111 · 1 day
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my sister and her roommate somehow ended up at a sports bar that was playing football matches and she knows i’m into woso so she texted me about it and was asking questions 🥺
one time when i was like… 15? she told me she was glad i wasn’t a lesbian. she didn’t mean it the way it sounded but i thought about it every time i considered coming out. talked myself out of telling her because of that so many times.
i brought it up when i came out and she was horrified at herself and apologized profusely and i never really held it against her but seeing her try really hard to learn about gay things i care about is always special.
her worry was that we wouldn’t have anything to talk about if we didn’t talk about boys because there’s a big age gap. but we very much have a lot to talk about. especially when she always tries really hard to know stuff about the things i care about.
anyway this was wildly sappy and i would die before i said any of this to her but sometimes people’s initial reactions to things aren’t completely expressive of how they feel and their capacity for change.
i don’t really know why im saying any of this but i guess the message is to find people who learn about stuff you care about because those people really love you. and also second chances are sometimes the best thing you can give a person.
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hey-august · 2 days
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I know I'm pathetic - Pt 6
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Fic tag)
✨The final part!!✨ I just added a warning for implied sex since I did a last minute adjustment. I hope yall had fun reading this throughout the week! 🩷 And for those who prefer to read everything in one-go, enjoy!!
WC: ~550
Warnings for the entire story: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, not an established relationship, dubcon, auralism, masturbation, buggy is a fucking perv, slight degradation kink, implied sex
Tag list: @rorywritesjunk @lostfirefly @ane5e @fanaticsnail
Title from Pathetic by blink-182
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“Captain…”
Shit. He definitely didn’t imagine it. This was a problem. Did you know? Were you messing with him? He needed to find out.
Buggy flew out of his room before reigning himself in. There were plenty of people still awake and he didn’t want to drag attention to himself. He strode to the bathroom, unsure what he would do when he got there. What he would say to you. What he would ask.
It didn’t matter though. By the time he got to the bathroom, it was empty. You were gone. All that was left was steam and a message on the mirror.
“I’m waiting for you.”
Was this message really for him? Were you actually waiting for him? Why? Was it a trick? Buggy’s mind was reeling, torn between the fucked up fantasies he’s been indulging in and what little grasp on reality he still had.
An unexpected sensation pulled him from the cyclone of thoughts. A warm breath on his ear. His ear…where was it? It wasn’t in the bathroom anymore.
Lips grazed his missing appendage and he shuddered.
“Captain? Did you find my message yet?”
Buggy's breath stopped in his chest as you whispered directly to him.
“I know your secret,” you teased. “I know what you’ve been doing, you perv. You’re a dirty guy, you know?”
He whimpered.
“Wanna know my secret?”
“Yes,” Buggy gasped to no one.
“I bet you do…my secret is that I like it. I like knowing that you touch yourself to me, captain.”
Buggy’s hand flew to his aching dick. If you liked it, he’d keep doing it.
“You’re probably touching yourself right now, you creep.”
He whimpered again.
“Would you stop if I told you to?”
He stopped.
“Would you screw me if I asked you to? I think I’d like that a lot more.”
Buggy’s legs moved before you finished that question.
“Please don’t keep me waiting too lon-”
You were interrupted by a frantic knocking and a breathless demand to open the fucking door.
---
Your sheets were soaked with sex and sweat by the time you two were drained and exhausted.
Buggy wasn’t sure if he was falling asleep or blacking out. His back was pressed against your chest and you were warm. So very warm.
“How’d you find out?” Buggy mumbled through the edges of sleep.
“Your boots are loud.”
Right. He knew that. He should have known it was a give away.
“I also had your ear on purpose.”
Now he was awake. Before Buggy could roll over, you held him tighter.
“Accidentally on purpose,” you laughed. “I found it earlier that day and put it in my pocket. I forgot and only remembered when I heard you outside my door. By then, it was too late.”
“Too late…”
“Well, I might have stopped if you knocked. But it sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”
Silence hung in the room as the words sunk in.
“You tricked me into listening to your- your debauchery, just so you could get off!" Buggy’s hands broke free and gestured wildly in the air. “You’re the pervert! You corrupted me,” he huffed offendedly. Provokingly.
“You were always a dirty freak, captain. Don’t be a liar too,” you said against his ear before giving it a small bite.
Buggy groaned softly through the smile on his face. He was a dirty freak. A depraved degenerate. A pathetic pervert. And so were you.
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csmtmra · 2 days
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carve me to make me yours
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character: keigo takami warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, dacryphillia, toxic yandere relationship, branding, blood, blood drinking, jealousy words: 1.1K
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he had always liked to show off what was his. keeping an arm around you anytime you went out. always showing up next to you when you were with friends. he liked making it known you were his.
he had made it known you were his and only his. so why are you laughing with friends and ignoring his calls?
at first he was just going to show up and make sure you were okay, but when he saw a boy draped over your shoulder, pointing to things on your phone, a little too close for comfort, he walked over and pulled you aside. “why the hell were you not answering me??” he’d be looking around pulling you further into town and further away from your friends while he asked the question. “were you texting? i’ve had my phone on do not disturb all morning..” you’d breathe out pulling your phone out and checking the messages you’ve missed from him. “we’re going home.” he said not paying you much mind as he dragged you to his apartment. ignoring all of your questions of ‘what’s wrong’ and if he was ‘okay’.
pulling you through the door of his apartment, he mumbles out words you don’t catch while shaking his head, and locks it. “keigo what is going on?” you ask starting to get upset, giving him a slight glare and frown.
“who was that boy. why was he all over my girlfriend??”he’d ask giving a slight snarl back and breathing heavily out through his nose. “who, shun? he meant no harm, i don’t even think he knew i had a boyfriend. we just met him..” you would say watching as he narrows his eyes before grabbing your arm and pulling towards his room with him. “it’s time everyone knows then.”
pushing open his door, he walks you to his bed before pushing you lightly onto it and unbuckling his belt, grabbing both of your arms and tying them to the top of it. tears are starting to well up in your eyes as you ask him what he’s doing.
“well if there’s nothing on you that will let people know you have a loving boyfriend, then i’ll have to make one.” keigo would say while taking his shirt off and throwing it across the room, moving his hands to the top of yours before ripping it and pushing it away from your skin, moving the remnants of it to the floor and plucking one of his beautiful red feathers.
he lays down with his chest in between your legs and his chin resting on your rib cage. elbows propping him up slightly as you stare in horror and intrigue of what he’s about to do next, tears falling from your eyes, down your cheeks and causing your lip quiver. he uses one of his hands to cup your cheek and brush the tears falling away with his thumb.
“don’t worry sweetheart i’m going to make it so, so pretty” he’d say, holding down your body with his own, whispering a soft little “it’s going to be so beautiful” as he carves the sharp part of the feather into your skin. your cries only more encouragement for him to move onto the next letter. only taking short breaks to wipe tears from your cheeks and pressing kisses to your bloody skin.
“everyone will know..” he says, glancing up at your eyes as more tears start to fall out of them. “no more..” you cry out, trying to get your hands freed so you can get out of his grasp. “stop struggling. you don’t want me to accidentally make a bigger cut do you?” keigo draws the feather closer to your heart, not putting enough pressure to cut the skin but enough to let you know he’s serious.
“behave.” his voice is stern, moving his hand back to your shoulder to finish the last letters, he takes his other hand and pushes his hair out of his face, letting a breath out and tilting his head. “perfect.” he mutters, lowering his face closer to the new wound on your shoulder before slowly licking the blood away.
soft moans would leave his lips as whimpers and cries would pass yours. he would bring his tongue out to lick the blood that started seeping past your skin again, leaving his lips a cherry red. moving his hands, he would put one on your hip and the other on your thigh, pulling it up next to him and scooting closer into your body. “you know i had to do this..right?” pressing kisses to your chest and leaving bruises on your skin, he would mutter a “please forgive me….you will won’t you?”
“won’t you.” he would say again, not questioning this time though. bringing his face close to yours, you nod your head, not being able to muster words back to him. he would let a small smile grace his face and bring his lips to yours.
you can taste the remnants of your blood on his lips and tongue, making you push your mouth on to his more roughly, trying to taste more of him.
you wanted to taste his very essence. you wanted to have his blood on your lips, mixing together with your own into a twisted concoction of desire and need.
pulling your lips a centimeter away from his, you bite his bottom lip, making the red substance spill into both of your mouths and resulting in a hiss from him.
“be nice.”he says before interlocking your lips together again for a quick second before pulling away and moving his lips to the cut again. you start to pull on the belt that was keeping your arms above your head and whine. “keigo..”
“oh here sweetheart..” he says with a hushed voice, while pushing himself up to untie your hands. once freed, they immediately shoot towards his neck, pulling him down to your face again and finding his lips once again.
keigos hand fumbles with something on the nightstand while his mouth is locked to yours, before pulling the object towards him and pulling back from you. it was a polaroid camera. “i want you to see my work” he mutters as he gets up slightly, both knees on either side of you, and bringing the camera to his face to look into it. the bright flash as he takes the camera makes you flinch.
grabbing the picture out of the slot, he shakes it a bit to help the photo develop faster before looking at it and smiling a cruel twisted smile before giving it to you. “look doll….maybe we can do your name on me now..” he said, grabbing the same feather with your now drying blood on the end of it, he lays next to you, taking the polaroid and placing it on his nightstand, and moving you on top of him while handing you the feather. “make it pretty baby.”
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diorkyeom · 3 days
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: : angel.
joshua x dokyeom, idolverse, fluff, pining, light angst, heavy blond!dk appreciation ft. joshuas strange couch
2.2k+ words, no warnings
also on ao3 | listen i never expected to love blond!dk as much as i do but he's gorgeous and deserves a fic about him. also pining whipped shua ftw 😽😽
summary: “angel,” joshua murmured. “angel, seokmin. you look like an angel.” seokmin's eyelashes fluttered, beating softly like feathered wings. - or seokmin turns up at joshua's doorstep at 2:47am. and of course, there's no way that joshua would ever be able to turn him away.
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At 2:47am, someone came knocking on Joshua's door. 
He was unfazed by it, though, and simply lifted his head up from where he'd been lying in bed before making his way across his apartment, turning on the hallway light and unlocking the door with a smile. 
“Seokmin,” he greeted the younger man as he stood there at his doorstep, after having received the almost timid hyung, are you up? text from him all of 15 minutes ago. 
“Shua hyung,” Seokmin greeted back, though he blinked owlishly, as if he were surprised that Joshua was awake. 
Like he hadn't been the one to message him at almost three o'clock in the morning, Joshua thought, a touch of fondness in his smile. He didn't say anything else, though, and just stepped aside and beckoned him in.
Seokmin obeyed willingly, taking off his shoes and stepping into the hallway. His eyes were still wide, almost nervous, and he wrung his hands together as he took another hesitant step in Joshua’s direction. Joshua hadn’t moved, continuing to just smile openly at Seokmin, patient, simply waiting for the younger to explain what he wanted.
He'd always wait for Seokmin. He'd wait, and then give him anything at all, so long as it made Seokmin happy. 
After a moment, Seokmin stepped even closer and hugged him.
His arms wrapped tightly around Joshua’s shoulders, pulling him in so suddenly that Joshua let out a small “oh!” in surprise, before the sound melted into a fond chuckle as he let Seokmin burrow into his neck, wrapping his arms around the younger to hug him back.
“Did you miss me that much?” he teased, but he couldn't help the way the ends of his words softened with fondness. “We were literally together at work the entire day today, Seokmin.”
Seokmin huffed, and Joshua could feel him pouting into his neck. 
“No, of course I didn't miss you,” he said, even as his voice was a little muffled, refusing to remove himself from where he'd latched onto Joshua. 
“Oh, you didn't?” Joshua asked, amused. Seokmin huffed again, the noise tapering into a small whine that Joshua, devastatingly, thought was rather adorable. He chuckled, but didn't push any further, letting Seokmin bury himself into his neck, arms wrapped around his frame. 
This wasn’t the first time Seokmin had texted him in the thin hours of the early morning, asking Joshua if he was awake and if, perhaps, if it wasn’t too much of a bother, Seokmin could come round to say hi. Seokmin did it with all of them, especially as of late: he’d been having trouble sleeping, for reasons that he appeared to have only shared with Jeonghan. And whilst Joshua was concerned about Seokmin's recent bouts of insomnia, he didn't mind too much that Seokmin hadn't confided in him about the reason. Joshua was just grateful that Seokmin trusted him enough to come to him during these kinds of nights.
“Did you manage to sleep at all?” Joshua questioned softly, and Seokmin shook his head. He hummed. “Alright. Come on, then, let’s get you inside.”
He gently peeled Seokmin away from him, gently coaxing him further into the apartment so they could find somewhere that’d be more comfortable than just standing in his cold-floored hallway. They couldn’t make it all the way to Joshua’s bed as he’d originally intended, though, since after Seokmin whined a few times they ended up in the living room instead, which was only a few steps away from the door.
But at least, here, they could sit down, and Seokmin could cling to Joshua as much as he wanted.
Seokmin didn't come to Joshua during all of his sleepless nights, but he came often enough that he roughly knew what it was he'd come for, and what he wanted Joshua to do.
When Seokmin was in these moods—shy, nervous, meltingly soft and just a touch sleep-deprived—he became devastatingly clingy, all sprawling limbs as he seemed to want to try and smother Joshua, fingernails scraping uncomfortably against the bouclé texture of his cream coloured sofa as he adjusted himself against him. Joshua just let him, let Seokmin do whatever he needed to do, saying nothing other than humming contentedly when he finally settled down.
Seokmin’s head ended up on Joshua’s shoulder, arm wrapped around his front, legs thrown over his so that he was practically in Joshua’s lap, their legs tangling together. He could feel every inhale and exhale that Seokmin took. 
Hopefully, Seokmin couldn’t hear Joshua’s heart thumping unusually hard in his chest.
“Do you wanna tell me what’s really wrong?” Joshua asked, gentle, once Seokmin had gotten himself comfortably draped over him. The room was dark, save for the feeble yellow light spilling in from the hallway, but Joshua didn’t want to dislodge Seokmin for something as insignificant as being able to see properly. He could still see Seokmin, anyways, and that was enough. “Why did you message me at three in the morning, hm?”
Pressing his face into Joshua’s shoulder, Seokmin didn’t say anything for a long moment.
“...I just wanted a hug.”
It was always the same five words, with Seokmin apparently not wanting to go further into why he was really here. But Joshua didn’t mind. He never minded, not so long as Seokmin still came to him anyway.
He hummed softly. “That’s okay.”
Seokmin squeezed him tighter, and then relaxed.
Neither of them had breathed a word. They didn’t need to. Seokmin liked talking, liked telling stories and cracking silly jokes that made people laugh, and Joshua liked listening to every single one. He liked hearing him talk in that way, and liked that Seokmin also liked to talk, but that was only during the day. 
Seokmin didn't message Joshua in the middle of the night to talk. 
With one hand still massaging circles into Seokmin’s upper arm, Joshua patted Seokmin’s hair almost absentmindedly, running his fingers through the strands, and Seokmin made an involuntary noise, a shiver running through him. Joshua chuckled at his reaction, and Seokmin huffed, but still leaned back against Joshua’s hand to encourage the fingers in his hair.
Seokmin had dyed his hair recently, both for their new album and their new concert tour, and whilst Joshua hadn't been the biggest fan of the blond colour at first, he had to admit that it was growing on him. Especially when he was like this, with his soft, pale hair fanned out all around him, the white gold fringe moving with every blink that Seokmin took. The dimness of the room coupled with the pale warmth of his hair made him look like some sort of magical, mystical being. 
“Angel,” Joshua murmured to himself, but with the way Seokmin was pressed up against him, there was no way he couldn't hear. “Angel, Seokmin. You look like an angel.”
Seokmin's eyelashes fluttered, beating softly like feathered wings. “Hyung…”
He looked up at Joshua, brown eyes swirling with grains of gold. Beautiful, was Joshua's instant thought. And then he stopped thinking, tilting Seokmin’s chin upwards, thumbing at his cheekbone.
“You're the loveliest angel of all,” Joshua said, far too sincerely, but oh well. 2am Seokmin liked hearing these sincere things, and Joshua was never really in a position to deny him. “You’re beautiful, Seokmin-ah. Did you know that? Hyung thinks you’re the prettiest person in the universe.”
Seokmin flushed, and in the dim light, Joshua wouldn’t have been able to tell if he couldn’t feel it under his fingertips as Seokmin’s cheeks warmed.
“Shua hyung’s really pretty too,” Seokmin whispered, and goodness, Joshua’s heart felt like it could burst.
“I know,” he said, instead, and smiled as Seokmin let out a short, breathy laugh. Seokmin’s hair was a glowing halo around him, making his eyes shine. “I am really pretty.”
Seokmin laughed again, and Joshua's heart felt light. 
No one said anything else for a while after that. Joshua let Seokmin be, let him stay as quiet as he needed until the voices in his head finally died down and allowed him to think clearly once more. He just threaded his fingers through Seokmin’s pale gold hair, traced slow circles along his upper arm and allowed himself to be buried in this hug as Seokmin’s head lolled peacefully on his shoulder.
Noticing the way that Seokmin’s breathing had slowed down to peaceful, drowsy exhales, Joshua looked down at him, wondering whether Seokmin had drifted off already. 
But no, he wasn’t asleep yet, and Seokmin blinked up at him through shadowy lashes, mumbling something unintelligible. Joshua just smiled. Despite having a heart softer than the softest pools of golden light, Seokmin was rarely this gentle and still, and he cherished those moments when he could hold him like this, and not fear when his rays would slip through his fingers once more.
Joshua would never want to pin him down, though. 
Seokmin deserved to be free, and Joshua was content with being Seokmin’s safe place, his refuge, the horizon line that he could sink down into after a busy day of brightening everyone else’s lives.
“Stay with me tonight?” Joshua murmured, carding his hand through Seokmin’s hair again, letting the glowing strands feather out as they were slowly released. 
Seokmin shook his head, a rustle of movement against Joshua’s clothes. “Can’t,” he whispered back, then his face scrunched up into a yawn. “Need to wake up early tomorrow, and I don’t wanna disturb hyung’s sleep.” 
“Don’t worry about it. Stay as long as you need,” Joshua assured him, but despite the way his heart clenched, he wasn’t surprised by Seokmin’s answer. He rarely agreed, but Joshua always offered just in case this time, he’d say yes. 
Besides, Seokmin always ended up accidentally staying over anyways.
“I’ll go in fifteen minutes,” Seokmin murmured, but he burrowed himself further into Joshua’s embrace, fingers curling into the fabric of Joshua’s shirt. 
Joshua hummed, leaning back against the couch, going back to threading his fingers through the pale embroidery of Seokmin’s hair, silent. Seokmin was warm against him, a warm and steady presence, like some sort of endearing weighted blanket that made little contented noises every time Joshua scratched his fingers against his scalp in a pleasing way. It made him chuckle silently, pressing into the same spot again and again until Seokmin was so utterly relaxed that he was practically melting into him.
It only took Seokmin seven minutes to fall asleep. Joshua counted; he watched the hands of the clock in the living room as the minutes ticked by, and could pinpoint the exact moment Seokmin relaxed so fully that he couldn’t be anything but asleep.
As Seokmin dozed on his shoulder, though, Joshua couldn’t help but stay there for a few minutes longer, until ten extra minutes had passed and Seokmin continued to sleep peacefully against him. He wanted to keep this scene in his hands for just a few extra moments, with Seokmin resting against him, his hair an angel’s halo, his fingers curled almost protectively into Joshua’s shirt.
Like this, Joshua could almost pretend that Seokmin was his.
But it was, of course, only pretend, and so Joshua eventually shifted them both, gently untangling their legs so he could get a hand under Seokmin’s, the other hand supporting Seokmin’s back as he lifted him up.
“Come on,” he said softly, even though Seokmin couldn’t hear him. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Joshua wasn’t going to wake him up, of course. He may have fallen asleep surprisingly fast whilst all curled up against Joshua, but he didn���t know if Seokmin would be able to go back to sleep again if he was awoken once again. And so Joshua carried him out of the living room and into his own room, setting Seokmin gently down onto the bedding.
He made a quiet noise in his sleep as he was laid down, but Joshua made his own soothing noises in response, and soon Seokmin was happily curled under his covers, his hair now looking ivory-white in the darkness of the room.
“Angel,” Joshua said to himself with a smile on his face, for the second time that night.
This time, though, Seokmin really wouldn’t be able to hear, and Joshua thought it was better this way. The word had come out even more fond than last time, and he didn’t want to risk Seokmin knowing just how fond Joshua was of him.
Joshua stepped back, and quietly exited the room, prepared to spend the night on his own couch. Seokmin needed the bed more, anyways.
In the morning, Seokmin would come padding into the living room, rubbing his eyes and whining about how he didn’t mean to force Joshua out of his own bed and how Joshua really should have woken him up. Joshua would shake his head, smiling, say it was no big deal, and then offer to make Seokmin breakfast before he left.
Seokmin would still look like an angel, pale blond hair all messed up, and Joshua would still think he looked absolutely beautiful, and it would take everything in him not to say that out loud.
But Joshua would deal with that later. 
As he listened to his heart beating hollowly in his chest, he wondered whether Seokmin knew he held Joshua’s very soul in those golden-glowing hands.
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taglist (send ask if you wanna be added/removed!): @my-moarmy-heart @weird-bookworm @bangantokchy @bittersweet-folder @leigh-darling @ahuiahoe
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twinkletfout · 2 days
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Rude boy — part.3
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚
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When did you even get home last night?, you thought, sitting up as you looked down at your badly wrinkled satin dress that you wore the other night, the very same dress that his gentle fingers ran through. Memories flooded your mind before you got up, you realised you were still wearing one of your heels, as you undid that heel, you bend yourself to look under the bed, if that missing heel is there. Knowing yourself, you were right. Always under the bed. You reached your hand to grab it, when suddenly your phone rang. Making you flinch under the bed, you hit your head when you finally retrieved that fricking heel.
You sat down on the bed and reached for your phone, you realised it was an unknown number.
The message said,
“Same bar, at 9:15”
You wondered for a second who this was, it didn't take that much time to put two and two together.
“Is this the rude guy who paid me to pretend to be his fake gf?” —
— “Bingo”
Of course you were too tired from all that drinking and ‘action’ from last night, you had to refuse at least for today.
“Too busy this morning, can we do this later?”—
— “Change of plans“
The reply was quick like he was expecting this from you.
— “Get ready“
— “Right now”
Like hell you will, he cannot just do that, do all that decisions like he wants,
— “stop jk, i just woke up”
Your heart skipped a beat when you saw an incoming call from him. Taking a moment for yourself to mentally prepare yourself. You clicked the green button.
“Be nice and attractive, she is here. I need you right now.” — and that was it, he hung up.
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What are you even doing right now? You can't believe yourself getting all cheered up on his words as you obeyed his words getting all barbied up just to make his girl jealous. But you didn't know why, why, just why. You have enough money to live your own pretty life. You don't need his money? Why are you even doing this anyway? Your mind raced with questions and random scolding for yourself when you suddenly spotted him, leaning on a pole with one his hands inside the pockets of his cargo. Looking rather bored as he scrolled something on his phone. You had a firm grip on the handi bag you were carrying as you walked towards him.
He spotted you randomly when he looked up from his phone. He realised that you were kinda struggling to cross that road. But you didn't realise that he noticed. You only came to understand that he actually crossed the road to help you get to the other side. When his hand clasped with yours, you felt the same heat and burning from last night, maybe it was the pride of yours that got hurt slightly.
When the both of you were on the opposite side of the road, he didn't seem to say anything to you, “where is she?” You asked genuinely,
It took him a few moments to finally talk.
“Didn't expect you to actually come this early” he said avoiding eye contact as he looked over to the other side of the road.
“What do you mean ‘early’?” You were confused as you kinda looked around if you could catch a glimpse of that blond.
“she will be here, any minute now” he finally looked at you as he said, even though he completely ignored your questions. You were waiting for him to look at you but the moment his gaze fell on you, you cant help but look away.
You both stood side by side in total awkwardness for some good 10 minutes, you guessed.
“if she isn't coming, I am still getting paid tho '' you randomly said out of nowhere. You didn't look at him when you said, his head shot at you. “Did i hear something?” He mumbled.
“You heard me” you said before he could. “Loud and clear~” he said as he scratched the back of his head. The two of you have been waiting for almost 1 hour now. Your feet were starting to hurt, “is your pretty gf gonna show up or what?” You basically moaned from impatience and the growing pain climbing up your body. “Maybe you don't know her that well” you didn't know why you let that slip from your mouth. He was fidgeting his finger behind his back as he kept looking around, but with your statement, he was completely shut down. After a while he spoke again. “This is her favourite place, I'm sure she will…” he didn't bother completing whatever he was about to say, but you understood. “I'm sure she will come” and you completed it for him.
“my feet ‘s really starting to hurt, you know?” you protested giving in to the pain. You knew he was about to say something about your comment but suddenly his body shifted and he picked you up easily, his hands enveloping around your thighs. The short skirt that you found in your closet was certainly a wrong move for today. “What are you—” your words cut off as you realised when you looked far from his shoulder, in a very slim black dress that hugged onto her body until it covered down her knees, cute white puff sleeves. Her blond hair tied to a slick bun. A new stranger was accompanying her, she was clinging onto his shoulder, laughing suddenly when he said something.
You guessed that he picked you up because his ex-lover suddenly showed up and with a man, that must be it. He had a strong grip as he carried you inside the bar, gently putting you down on the sofa as his face looked rather bored. “Such a romantic” you teased. “Shut up” there came back the reply, he sat down beside you, “how do you feel?” He asked, “much better”
You thought he would be kind of shocked to see that blondie with another man but maybe he already saw them together before, you put it aside for awhile, but when she walked inside the bar, all of the attention was on her. You felt him stiffening beside you, turning your face to meet his face. You saw his eyes darken, the vein on his jaw pop, he suddenly looked away and towards your gaze. And you knew, you knew that it was the first time he came to know all of this too, just like you. The last hope that was obvious on his face extinguished when you didn't take your eyes away, not this time. And that was the only thing that made you two different during this moment.
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avensthetic · 1 day
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𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐄, 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔
𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (jungkook of bts)
when will it be? if i see you again i will look into your eyes and say, "i missed you"
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𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙫𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙖, 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪
━━ ╸i know you're working hard in penacony, that everything rides on this daring gamble of yours. did it work? did you win? or are you still playing that dangerous high-stakes game? my worry grows with each passing day. i can't pretend it's easy, waiting without a hint of when this will end. so, if you find a moment to breathe, just send me a quick text. let me know you're alright. hurry home soon, won't you? i have so much to tell you, but it will sound sweeter with you here, beside me, and your hand entwined in mine.
love, y/n
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the phone screen dimmed, the call going unanswered again. straight to voicemail. three missed calls in the last hour, texts were left unread. this was the norm for the past few weeks now, and worry gnawed at your gut, intensifying at each unanswered call.
aventurine always found a way to reply, even with just a quick emoji or a rushed message. this silence felt wrong, alien. yet there was nothing to do but wait.
his eyes meet yours, the usual cocky smirk plastered on his lips as he promised, "i'll win this, and i'll come back. and i’ll ask you something important, but until then, wait for me." you had seen the slight tremble in his left hand, clenched out of sight behind his back. he tried to play it cool, but you knew. you always knew when the bravado masked a flicker of uncertainty.
something to ask? he seemed nervous, but you didn’t have time to ask then as he swooped you in by the waist, lips meeting yours for a kiss, bearing an intensity that bordered on desperation, devouring your questions...acting as if this was the last.
"liar," you whispered into the empty room. he always promised. yet, here you were, waiting for an echo in the silence, hoping this time wouldn't be different, that this was not a gamble he'd lost. the thought made your throat tighten. even so, you'd wait. because as infuriating and reckless as aventurine could be, you knew he always found his way back to you.
but you wake up to another morning, bed empty and cold.
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 - 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓
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Note
What if this travel show debunks whole Jikook ? Imagine Jimin saying 'it's been long since we slept together in same room' 'it's been long since I heard his snoring' or something? If they are a couple they'll be sleeping together right ? Why would Jimin say that ? Well, it's kinda debunked already because Jimin said 'I got used to your snoring because we spent time together few days before aka their travel show shoot'. He only got used to it now because he had to sleep with JK for a schedule ? Also they are acting like Jimin bumping JK in sleep is a funny moment as if it never happened before. RM asked a question like that too 'did you elbowed him this time' as the last time it happened was when they together for NYC schedule.
Anon, I have several questions in response to your rather silly message. Why does it bother you that people like me think that perhaps there's something more than just friendship between Jimin and Jungkook? Why does it bother you to acknowledge, understand, accept that Jimin and Jungkook have always been close, probably the closest in the group? Unless you're a tkkr, it doesn't make much sense, or is it simply homophobia? Though I suppose it's not that simple. Or is it the parasocial relationship you have with one of them? What's the reason?
You clearly aren't a true fan because a real fan wouldn't be desperate to confirm that two members of their favorite group aren't or weren't close. That they had problems, etc. But you know what's funniest about all this? Your argument falls apart with the simple fact that Jimin and Jungkook enlisted together and not only that, but they applied to a program that guarantees they'll be together throughout their military service. That doesn't prove they're a couple, but it does confirm how close they are and that their relationship is different. And I know that that fact, that reality, eats away at you and at everyone who thinks like you. And I also know that you're terrified of seeing or knowing what they filmed before their military service. People like you, cowards like you who hide behind a screen and the option of anonymity, are embarrassing because it's obvious how empty and sad your lives are and that the only thing that makes you feel... something is being a horrible person.
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breakerwhiskey · 3 days
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200 - TWO HUNDRED
Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.
Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.
[click, static]
Okay, I think I’m—I’m ready to read this note now. Beyond just the date and the first few lines.
“April 6th, 1975
Abigail—
I’m okay. If you do find this, I have a feeling you’re going to have questions about the blood. You always have questions about everything. It’s one of your best qualities and also one of your most infuriating. Though I suppose I should be grateful you’ve been dogged in your pursuit of the truth. Maybe this can be repaired.”
I don’t know if she means the jacket or…
“It’s chicken blood. I am not as capable as you when it comes to butchery.”
That’s…that’s as far as I got after finding the note. The relief hit me like a freight train but…
I don’t want to be capable of butchery. I know that’s not what you meant but I…
Anyway. Moving forward.
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach our meeting in time, but after that man came to the house, I went to ground. I heard a car in the distance a few times over the last few days, but I couldn’t be sure it was you.
I got the car you left me. And the radio. I’ve been transmitting out regularly but I’m going to guess that you haven’t heard me. That’s what I’m choosing to believe anyway, given I’ve sent you more than a few messages over the months, with no reply. And, yet, somehow, I’ve heard many of your transmissions—not all, and they are very often full of static and breaks in the signal, but you have reached our garage even from Los Angeles.”
She crossed out something here. I think it says…(crinkle of paper) "I thought about joining you” but I can’t read the rest. Goddammit, Harry…
“Do you remember that one diner that we went to every month for all of ’69? I know that you’ve been to a lot of roadside diners in the last ten months, so maybe they’ve run together in the way that they’re almost purpose built to do. The one down the street, the one we could walk to—we haven’t been back in ages, because I got spooked the one time the neon sign flickered back to life, but we’d carry thermoses of tea and pretend that we were going out for a morning cup, because the monotony of our existence was threatening to destroy us both.
Whether you remember it or not, that diner has a working radio. I believe it too spooked me when there was a power surge, even if it was just static. In any case, I’m no longer at that diner, but I was briefly and heard several of your transmissions. There was no way to speak back to you, as it wasn’t that kind of radio, but it was picking up your signal just the same.
I’m not in the state anymore. I threw the jacket from the car as I drove out of town, a final ditch attempt to contact you. I had a feeling you would take it with you if you found it, despite the state of it, and just had to hope that you would find these pages sewn inside the lining.
I’ll keep transmitting, so we can find a time and place to meet, but there are conversations I don’t want to have over the airwaves, or in a letter. So I’m going to give you instructions now, that I’ll keep repeating on the radio, in the hopes that you’ve found this even if you can’t hear me.
Do you remember the show I did up north at that gallery near the water? You’d been in Provincetown with Francis for a few days and he drove the both of you up for the opening. It wasn’t a particularly short journey, but manageable. You both stayed the weekend, at that little B&B that shares its name with one of the planets.
I don’t think you thought very much of my show. It was one of my more abstract periods. I know you never cared much for that style, but I do have to wonder if you’d have been more generous to it if you’d known what inspired it. Then again—”
And she crossed that out too…
“It was still nice having you and Francis there. I always wondered why you’d agreed to come. You seemed so unhappy to be there. It makes me wonder if my demeanor made you think that I was unhappy to have you there. That was never my intent.
I’m headed there now. I think you left me with enough fuel to make the journey, and I want to get somewhere familiar that isn’t terribly close to where we've been. Meet me there.
I don’t want to write the name down, for fear that someone else will find this jacket and this note, but I’m going to assume you remember.
I remembered. The place where we had the picnic. I remembered. And I always knew that you were winding me up about Rothko, but I liked arguing with you. It’s why I never told you that I like Hank Williams. At least, I learned to.
Harriet”.
[click, static]
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