#i still have a lot of feelings about this man

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor

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

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

Word Count: 10k

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

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

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

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made sense you guessed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did it turn you on?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

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

You nodded.

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

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

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

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

“Fuck! Yes…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

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

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

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

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

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

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

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

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PART 2 COMING SOON

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[angelltheninth]

Hello! I hope you can write about retired sorcerer nanami;)

One old man Nanami coming right up!

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, fluff, waking up together, retirement, talking about starting a family, babyfever, use of condoms, creampie, sharing chores, kissing, Nanami Kento is a gentleman

A/N: He'a not old he's just... dilf material okay?

Retired!Nanami Kento needs to be bullied into retirement

Despite what retired!Nanami Kento always says he liked his job and his friends

Retired!Nanami Kento spend a lot more time enjoying small moments when he doesn't feel like he's racing against the clock

Retired!Nanami Kento still splits chores with you, old habits die hard

Retired!Nanami Kento can now do his chores at the same time as you do yours so you're done faster

Retired!Nanami Kento finally has the time to watch all those movies and shows you always talked about with Gojo

Retired!Nanami Kento can take you on many more dates and trips

Retired!Nanami Kento still gives advice to younger Sorcerer's when they need it but only advice

Retired!Nanami Kento keeps in shape just in case he's pulled out of retirement

Retired!Nanami Kento can't sit still for long though he needs something to do around the house

As he has a lot more free time retired!Nanami Kento wants to have sex with you during the day, not just early mornings and late nights like before

Retired!Nanami Kento gets baby fever quickly having the need to take care of someone

Retired!Nanami Kento goes crazy when he sees you wearing his tie and pulls on it like a leash while you're riding his cock

Retired!Nanami Kento kisses you deeply every time he knows you're about to come undone on his cock

Retired!Nanami Kento wants to be gentle with you and but when you tell him you want him to put a baby in you he goes feral, folding you in half and fucking you until cum spills down your ass and stomach

Retired!Nanami Kento loves imagining a family with you but he's not yet sure you're ready for one do he still uses condoms often

Retired!Nanami Kento watches porn with you a lot more often and wants to try some new things out

Retired!Nanami Kento would keep you on his cock while you eat together so you're both ready to fuck right after

Retired!Nanami Kento can now take his sweet time fucking you a lot more often without worrying about getting interrupted by a phone call

Retired!Nanami Kento starts enjoying morning sex a lot more then he did before, now you can spend more time being lazy in bed

Dividers made by: @/cafekitsune

[nkogneatho]

𝑶𝑯 𝑴𝒀 𝑩𝑰𝑮 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀 !!

— old bf!toji x young gf!reader

i think toji with a girlfriend that is so much younger than him is so adorable.

before you, he was just a man with a small room that is always so messy because he is rarely home. but, the room feels so much like home now that you have entered his life. he's never bothered to decorate or do anything. his heart flutters when he finds several photoframes hanging on the wall. one of you and him, a few of just his and a lot of megumi.

toji has never in his life ever clicked a selfie. he is not photogenic at all. so when you poke him to click one with you, he's not sure what to do in front of a camera. you tell him to just be himself and he is still confused. you lift the phone and make a peace sign with your hand, your teeth peeking out as your lips curve in a smile. you click it quickly and scan the photo. it is cute. you put a heart emoji with a wink one and upload it on your instagram. soon, your phone is buzzing with notifications. you open them and giggle. toji is so curious so he peeks and finds people calling him "the rock". He snatches the phone to scan the selfie you took earlier. you look so adorable with your cute little peace sign and smile and there he was beside you with a brow raised looking angry. "delete that shit right now," he orders. "are you kidding me? this is gold. it's going on the wall." he can't help but grin at how you find such silly things funny.

toji who is getting used to texting and wants to be even closer to you so he tries to learn some slangs. you are out with your friends when your phone chimes. you unlock it to see the text from toji.

toji: kys

you almost spit out the coffee you were enjoying. what the fuck is he on? what happened? you immediately call him.

"hello," his voice raspy.

"tojii! why the fuck would you say something like that to me?"

"what are you talking about?"

"the text you just sent me. why did you send that?"

"because i care for you, doll." you were even more confused now.

"you told me to kill myself because you care for me?"

"kill yourself? who said that? i sent K.Y.S." he spelled each letter out loud. "it means keep yourself safe." it takes you a few seconds to absorb and then you burst out laughing. he is not sure what is so funny.

"oh my poor big baby. kys means kill yourself."

oh. OH.

"i—i am so fucking sorry, princess. i was just—"

"you are so adorable. when i come home, i need to go through your google search history to know what other slangs you learnt." he is so embarrassed, he bites his lower lip. but he is also feeling so warm and fuzzy because you called him adorable. who would call a man in his mid 30s adorable? well, you did. and he is so happy about that. happier that he met you.

[stars-for-circe]

Hot To Go

Song inspo!! - HOTTOGO by Chappell Roan

Tags / cw: headcanons, cheerleader!reader x dropout!ellie, fluff, Highschool au, Ellie is older by 1 year, reader is in senior year, 90s era

Dropout!Ellie who always does her best to show up and be supportive of your cheerleading

She always makes sure to pick you up every Friday night after practice, long after the sun has set and dew had started to form on the cold grass field.

She makes sure to wait by her pickup truck in the parking lot, leaning against the drivers side door and listening to music on her walkman until you come over to meet her.

She always greets you with a kiss on the cheek and one of her jackets to keep you warm in your thin uniform - the smell of her wrapped around you makes you feel so cozy.

Dropout!Ellie who lets you hangout with her in the back of her truck after practice, eating the worst junk food known to man as you gossip about people from your school

You’re sitting in the back of her truck, cuddling her under a shared blanket as you share a greasy cheese pizza - your legs intertwined as you try to feed her a slice with her eyes closed, making you both giggle as she fails miserably.

While she dropped out a couple years ago, she was still in the grade above you, so you have some shared memories about school. There are certain people she knows about, but most of them that you gossip about are complete strangers.

“No fucking way, he still goes there? Dude’s like a super duper senior at this point!”

Dropout!Ellie who won’t let you go home without a proper goodbye, leading to giggly make out sessions in her truck as you both try to hide from the automatic nightlights in your driveway.

Dropout!Ellie who sneaks into your school to watch your routines during matches, and somehow never gets caught.

At this point, you’re 99% sure she’s bribing the office ladies not to rat her out because they still have a soft spot for her.

Ellie never fucking tells you when she’s gonna show up, so every single time it takes you by surprise when you see her hiding behind the bleachers and cheering you on as you balance at the top of the pyramid.

And every single time, you almost fall from how distracted you get.

Dropout!Ellie who tries to involve herself with your schoolwork and be helpful, but is the exact opposite of what she attempts to do.

You’re studying for finals at the park while Ellie swings upside down on some random tree branch, blasting rock so loud that you can hear it all the way on the bench.

All of a sudden you hear her run over to you, leaves crunching under her feet, and two heavy hands landing on your shoulders

“So whatcha doinggg??”

She immediately regrets asking, because now you’ve trapped her next to you and planted a massive textbook in front of her to help you study.

“Babe- I dropped out in grade ten there’s no way I can help with any of this shit-”

Secretly, she gets a little sad sometimes because she can’t connect with you about school or share classes with you since she dropped out.

Dropout!Ellie who tried doing your makeup once, and you never let her go near it again because of how bad it was.

“No- Ellie it’s meant to be sparkly on the inner corner-”

“Stop with the fucking medical terms and just let me-”

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO-”

You were 27 minutes late to practice that day because of how much Ellie insisted she do your makeup even though it wasn’t necessary.

You spent those 27 minutes desperately trying to wipe off the bright blue glitter she’d spread all the way up to your eyebrows.

Sometimes you still find pieces of glitter in your carpet from the whole fiasco.

You help her feel better, though, by letting her pick out which bows to put in your hair and which colours you can use for eyeshadow during games.

Dropout!Ellie who makes sure she’s always there with you during games, even when she can’t make it herself.

While you were busy getting dressed into your uniform, she was fiddling around with you pom-poms, eyeing all the pretty colours and sparkles.

She wanted to stay as long as she could until you had to leave for the game, because this time she couldn’t go with you.

But a sharpie on your desk caught her eye, and she suddenly had a small idea on what she could do.

And hours later, after the game, when you went to grab your stuff to leave, you noticed a tiny little black smudge on the handle of your pom-poms. And upon taking a closer look, a small smile made its way to your face after you saw your girlfriend’s faded initials hidden behind all the ribbons and plastic.

Dropout!Ellie who cannot wait for summer, when she can finally have you all to herself without school or practice or homework getting in the way.

Half of the summer you aren’t even sleeping at home. Instead, Ellie sneaks you out of the house and drives three hours into the middle of nowhere to look at the stars.

She puts up some blankets and pillows in the back of her truck, brings out a radio softly playing nirvana, and a Tupperware box of cookies she made to share as you lay in the back of her truck to stargaze.

She points out the bigger ones, and the ones making constellations to you as you wrap your arms around her and listen to her nerdy mumbling, slowly lulling you to sleep.

“See? That one there’s called Ursa Major. I uh, read it somewhere a while back in one of those astronomy books you got me.”

“…mhm…”

She giggles at your quiet chirps to her explanations as your slowly fall asleep, before pulling a blanket over you and lets you drift off under the stars.

And when you wake up - still outside in the back of her truck - resting on her now sleeping chest, you glance at Ellie and her resting expression. You watch how it becomes blanketed by the early morning sunrise, and you listen to how the radio is playing some indie country artist you couldn’t name.

And after a while, you decide that, despite the fact she’s a dropout and your a straight A cheerleader, and despair the fact that it is the most random pairing ever, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being hypocritical about what people call me?

I (19ftm) am blasian, but to anyone not paying close attention I'm black. I am very young looking on account of the gender and being 19. As such, I get called "boy" or "son" a lot, depending on how much the person respects me, and I hate it.

Recently I was hanging out at my place with my close friend (18M, white) and I absentmindedly dropped something. He said "what are you doing, boy?" In a kind of half angry/half playful tone, but it still made me feel nauseous. I told him don't call me that, it's disrespectful. He rolled his eyes and said not to make a big deal out of it. I doubled down, saying you shouldn't call any black or trans man "boy" as it's infantilizing. He said I was being hypocritical, as I let both my dad and my boyfriend call me boy.

I snapped, saying of course I let my dad call me boy. He's my fucking dad. I don't mind when he does it. He has that power and authority over me and I trust him not to abuse it. Also he's a southern black man in his late 40s, I'd have better luck trying to get a fish to breathe air than him stop speaking the way he does.

As for my boyfriend (21M, white), I actually like when he does it. But it's because he adds an adjective to the front of it like pretty boy, or he calls me his boy. I do the same for him. It's a term of endearment.

He didn't seem convinced and kept pressing saying he had known me for years, did I not trust him? I got so uncomfortable that I asked him to leave, and he called me an asshole before storming out.

Was I TA?

[psyduc]

pasta a la erik karlsson

THE INGREDIENTS: pasta. alfredo. meat sauce. raw (red) onion. hot sauce (cholula, judging by the video). ketchup (heinz, i think?). a little salt and pepper.

THE RECIPE: boil pasta, chop the onion, serve with all sauces. eat and not die.

hi my name is emily and welcome to jackass

instead of liveblogging this process, i'm just going to add my thoughts to one big post to make it cleaner <3

6:48 pm: the pasta is boiling. i keep looking over at the Pile of Sauces and giggling. i have whispered "what the fuck" to myself a few times now. i'm cooking the whole box, because we're all having spaghetti tonight, but i'm the only one brave enough to try... This

6:54 pm: erik did not mention this as part of the meal but i poured myself a glass of rose. the onion has been chopped. i tried to get them chunky to match the video but that's like too much man, at least have your onions DICED why are they in CHUNKS ERIK

7:05 pm: writing these time stamps i'm realizing i'm a slow cooker because i keep getting distracted by my playlist (rn it's rebel rebel by david bowie). i am starting the alfredo sauce and it's sinking in that i'm about to actually. eat this. like a few bites, there's no way i'm eating this whole plate (this is NOT foreshadowing)

7:07 pm: i almost panicked because i didn't think i had enough milk for the alfredo but surprise, i had EXACTLY enough. this is a good omen.

7:15 pm: everything is done, i am just waiting for the meat sauce to warm up. i'm still whispering "what the fuck to myself".

7:21 pm: it's time. to assemble.

i grabbed a small plate, but i'm realizing. maybe i should have grabbed less. this is revolting. and i'm not even done adding things

added and mixed. i'm laughing. erik eats this. before every game? it overwhelmingly smells like cholula which is fine but oh my god. oh my god? no. no. this poor man's stomach. oh my god

7:30 pm: i've put it off. it's time to take a bite

IT'S JUST. IT'S JUST A LOT OKAY. THIS IS A LOT OF FLAVOR AND NONE OF IT REALLY GOES TOGETHER? it's like way too acidic. biting into a red onion is a terrible surprise. it's too saucy and it doesn't feel Good in my stomach, like i have taken two bites and it's settled so heavily already. okay no three bites. it's... it's just upsetting. this is an upsetting experience. what the fuck is wrong with you erik karlsson. you eat this and then you go and play professional hockey?

FOUR BITES IN AND IT DOES NOT GET BETTER. why does he do this to himself like can we send someone to check on him fr i am genuinely concerned about this man like i made this meal for the bit but he willingly does this to himself?????? 82 games a season???????

IN CONCLUSION: i managed five (5) bites. they were all bad. don't make this. someone arrest erik karlsson immediately i am so serious.

[genderqueerdykes]

if you are a trans boy, especially a teenage trans boy, i wanted to say that as a trans man in their 30's, you have my deepest respects and condolences for what you may be going through right now.

it has become socially acceptable and basically online custom to bully teenage trans boys & mascs, call them cringy, or excuse misgendering them for whatever reason. people put trans boys on this pedestal of "must perform masculinity and manhood to cartoonish degrees" even though they're still children.

people make trans boys fight for their manhood before they can even be boys. i am sorry people can be so judgmental and harsh on you. you are not wrong for wanting to be a boy. you are experiencing something wonderful. it's okay if you still want to be a boy even if people have treated you poorly, or tried to make you feel bad for being a boy. there is nothing wrong with being a boy.

it's okay if you never socially transition. it's okay if you're afraid to come out because it's not safe. it's okay if you never change your outward appearance. it's okay if you try very hard to pass but struggle to. it's okay if you wear "women's" clothing and shoes, bras, makeup, etc., it's okay if you're gay and love other men. it's okay if you're scared of hrt. it's okay if you don't want surgery. it's okay if you mainly occupy girl's spaces still. people will find every reason to pick these things apart and ridicule trans boys for, but they are all perfectly fine experiences that do not make you any less of a boy. you are the one who is in control of your transition, presentation, and state of being- you should be able to prioritize your safety over the comfort of random strangers who have no impact over how you live your life.

i've been put through this too, but later in life as i came out when i was an adult. people still try to make me feel bad for identifying as a trans man, for whatever reason they have in their head to justify hatred of a trans person. i've had enough. there will never be an excuse for how people try to excuse the infantilization and abuse that trans men and trans boys face.

take care of yourselves, no matter what age you are, if you are a trans boy, man, or masc you deserve to know that other trans men care about you, especially when people are scrambling to find ways to punch down on you. there are people who suck, but there are also a lot of people who care about you. keep your chin up. you know who you are

[wifeyoozi]

Svt with a high maintenance girlfriend, thank you <3

Ot13 seventeen : high maintenance girlfriend

Ceecee note - I literally don't know a lot about high maintenance girlies because I literally am too lazy to get stuff done even though I love doing it all and being a girlie lol so forgive me.

seungcheol : literally doesn't expect you to be any other way. if you weren't high maintenance before, he'll spoil you enough to be so eventually we all know it

jeonghan : he's equally high maintenance so the both of you better be rich or he be stealing cheol's money for you both

joshua : he is a man from LA with a J name I think he can really afford a high maintenance girlfriend. Secretly actually prefers that. Just because mindful that he's still The Bitch in the relationship you cannot take his spot.

Junhui : lowkey finds you tiring but simultaneously loves spoiling you. "Oh you want to get your nails done? AGAIN?? you just got them done! No problem tho I wired you $300 enjoy babe 😘😘"

Soonyoung : loves spoiling you in a way where he comes to all of your expensive appointments and shopping and likes yo personally pick your nail and hair and dresses

Wonwoo : I think he doesn't even notice you are high maintenance until his friends point that out. He's like "oh don't all girls like to get their things done like that?"

Woozi : on the outside he shows that he doesnt care as much about spending money on your maintenance but it secretly turns him on. To flex his money on your beauty. His black card has its first home in your wallet not his.

Minghao : this man is dressed up in Gucci and Versace all day long so I think he'd be really proud of a girlfriend who's the same. An equally high maintained couple going to get their nails and hair done together all the time that's you.

Mingyu : highkey intrigued by everything you do. He's that typa man. Would randomly show up at your saloon one day just to see how you get your manicures and pedicure and body spas done. Loves how you always get so happy after you've got it all done.

Seokmin : what's the use of him earning as much as he does if he can't spend it on you? Feels so entitled when you are by his side because of how strong your aura is with your luxurious looks.

Seungkwan : complains and pouts about you spending more time in the saloon than you do in his arms. Starts insisting you book home appointments just so he could cuddle by your side as you get all of your shit done and successfully make the aesthetician uncomfortable with the strong couple energy.

Vernon : I think he secretly knows a lot about manicures and pedicures and nails and hair and spas because of how close he seems with his sister so he just loves spoiling you like that and see you be all fresh and happy afterwards.

Dino : I feel you're gonna have to explain him why you need to get so many things done and why you gotta buy so many skincare and then he has that invisible question mark on his head everytime you go on and on talking about why you need it and all the other beauty details and why you love it ykwim

[littlelightfish]

Holm nation... I have a heartbreaking announcement to make.

We didn't get to see this panels animated.

(I wanted to see Laios helping him, this one isn't the one this post is all about)

I feel it's important to his character enough that Kui decided to dedicate three panels about how he aproaches and resurrects Kabru.

He is used to resurrecting people, his party sucks at keeping themselves alive. He walks up to Kabru's corpse with a worried look on his face. Then he kneels besides him and takes a second to process what he is seeing. He is seeing a young man, Kabru, dead. It makes him feel unseasy, a bit of shock that he can't take the luxury of process at the moment. He doesn't want to look, so he closes his eyes and focuses on his spell. He is realizing he is the only one alive from his party (he doesn't know where Mick is or how he is). He is the last one standing. The reality of it all slaps him in the face.

The panel of him just... looking at the mess Kabru's corpse is was just... It was important. It talked about him as a character. "I'm not doing this because I want to, but because I have to". He doesn't has time for emotions. He has a job to do.

It's just three panels. But they provide lots of context between the ones that came before and after.

He doesn't just rubs Kabru's head because he's being afective. He does it because he cares. He does it out of relief. "As long as I'm here, any of you'll be dying soon. And I'll always be here. Don't worry." He is far from being OK after all this. Marillier died, Daya died, Kuro died, Kabru died, Rin died, Mick probably died too (but he doesn't saw it). He... By the time he was the only one standing, the fight was over, and he could alredy resurrect them. He wants to feel sad. To worry, to be concerned, to mourn. But he can't. It isn't necessary.

He is a cleric. He for sure has a notion of dead way different than anyone and feels a certain way about resurrection. "Dying is dying, even if you resurrect." It's a bug at the corner of his mind, he doesn't pay it any attention. He gets resurrected multiple times, he is gratefull he is alive. But seeing all his friends dead? And the most of them mutilated? Covered in their own blood? He has this desire to mourn. To cry the loss. To panic. "They are all dead."

He knows they'll come back. He has to make them come back. So he does. And they are alive. But they weren't a few seconds ago. And he just plays it off, he puts his calm face on as soon as there is another party member alive that could ask him what happened that it disturbed him so much. He throws all those sad feelings under the rug and focuses at the task at hand.

They're going to be ok, he just has to do his job: bring them back from death. They shouldn't even be dead. But they are. And he's going to fix it. No point on feeling sad about them dying if they can be alive soon!

I think the concern that the anime puts here it's something that could come close to what he feels inside. Those seconds are the only ones we see him looking something akin to worried for his friends.

But then...

His worry vanishes in seconds. The moment Kabru revives, he does it in such a "Kabru" way, that he tells himself: "This is fine, they're going to be back soon, nothing to worry about, I just have to hurry". He wants them all back to live. We know for sure that in his priority list there wasn't any "reviving Toshiro's party members first". He was going to make sure all his party, all his friends, were alive before even thinking of resurrecting other people if he still had the magic.

Those three panels they didn't animate are something that was there for a reason. To give depth to Holm. This last episode is definitely the one in wich he shines the most. He isn't the main character at all this episode, but he does the most important stuff on the background. He revives them all. This all lack of something if you don't show what Kuy drew on those panels.

Here he just... goes to work. He says: "lemme handle it" and he does. No concern, no worry, no, nothing. He just does. No thoughts.

It makes me sad. Those panels were important. :(

[yestrday]

: ̗̀➛ ALL OR NOTHING. yan! aventurine / gn! reader

it's a nice feeling to finally be on the winning side, feigning fairness when all the winning cards are in his hand. but it's not like you can fault him for cheating. after all, you who has nothing chose to challenge him, the one who will gain everything.

( overarching theme of sl4very, anim4l cruelty, anim4l death, bl00d, graphic description of violence, hinted obsessive behavior, im unoriginal and stole kafkas spirit whisper for reader ) + 7.5k words

"It's just a bet," he suggests, as if this gamble won't cost you your everything. "Juuust a bet. Exactly what are you so scared of?"

He sits laid back in his plush velvet chair, twirling a cocktail as he enjoys the finest luxuries in life. He is clad head to toe in the finest clothing, dressed like a peacock waiting to impress. You, on the other hand, feel more like the peahen— dreadfully drab in your rags and no choice but to watch as the peacock flaunts his feathers. You are knelt on the ground, but your eyes show no submission.

"I'm not crazy, gambler," you bite. "I know the IPC. They are full of shit. And you, Aventurine." Your eyes set on him with hatred. "You're the smelliest of the lot."

Aventurine, the gem of lies and luck, sighs dramatically. "Pup, you know I don't like it when you're so vulgar, y'know? I'm giving you a chance at freedom, so you ought to at least treat me at least a little bit nicer. I'm not the one who shackled you, so I don't understand what the aggression is all about."

"You're the reason why I'm here in the first place!"

"No, Jade was." He presses a finger to your lip and you'd bite it if it weren't for the annoying bind you were under. "Jade came across you and thought you and your talent would make for a nice gift. You were a gift and I'm just the receiver. So don't go barking up the wrong tree, pup."

"So." He leans back into his couch and shoots you a sly grin. "Up for round one?"

You are lost.

The meaning of Paths and their symbolisms are lost on you. You don't care for Aeons— no one on your home planet was. You were busy diving in dumpsters for a scrape of food, tricking your 'friends' into sacrificing themselves for you, and killing whatever was left of your humanity just to make it to another day. You walk on no Path but yours.

You don't even know which way you're going. So you are lost.

You think Aventurine is lost too.

He has every detail of his facade practiced. His gait is relaxed enough to not be intimidating, but not sloppy enough to be called out as bad posture. He talks in a smooth voice that eases fools and makes enemies wary, his smile is charming to sway the opponent into another gamble, his hair is fixed to frame his pretty face, and he chooses words that cannot be turned into loopholes. He is Aventurine. But he is not himself.

He does not care for the Preservation, but he rejects the Elation. He is on his own Path too, but he knows the destination he must reach— his 'End'. In that way, he is different from you, because you know not your journey or your ending. Still, he is just as lost as you.

But he makes a darn good show of not seeming that way. Right now, you watch as he throws the dice on the table, and the whole table watches with bated breath as they turn. A six and one— he lost the bet to the other's six and five. They cackle gleefully as they collect their earnings from Aventurine. They have chips upon chips on their side of the table while Aventurine's winnings are cut in half.

"I think I'll call it a day, pretty boy," the gambler cackles, greedily eyeing his earnings and possibly dreaming about the cash he's made tonight. "Even a gambler knows when to call quits, right?"

Aventurine pouts. "Aww, so soon? C'mon, the night's only begun! Who knows, play another round and you might just end up with more money than you have right now~"

The man laughs again, obviously not fooled by his pity act. "Boy, I'm not as addicted as you are. I know when to stop instead of letting you bleed me out dry." But Aventurine isn't fazed; rather, he snaps his fingers and you lower your head as you step to his side.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? [Y. Name], be a dear and persuade this gentleman into another round with me."

A glow of your eyes. Then you fix the man with an eerie gaze as you say, bright and clear, "Hey, you: Play another round with my master."

As if in a daze, the man's eyes cloud over and sit right back. Another round later Aventurine wins all his losses back and more, leaving the other gambler's side naked and bare of chips. The man is barely out of his stupor when he realizes what just happened— that he's fallen for a trick and now he's ended up with no money to even cover his lodgings— but you and Aventurine have sauntered out of the casino doors by the time he's begun cussing you out.

"Ha! That was fun." Aventurine shrugs off his jacket now that you're in the car and raises an empty champagne glass to you. "You're a good partner, [Y. Name]. Honestly, that Spirit Whisper of yours is such a nice trick. Just like that Stellaron Hunter, right?"

"... Kafka?"

"Yes, her. Enigmatic woman, isn't she? A bit ironic how those with such a powerful ability ended up as slaves. Her as Destiny's, and you as... mine." He gives your collar a little tug and you growl in warning, but you inch closer to him anyway. "So. Gambling. You up for that round?"

You scoff and grin at him with all teeth and no mirth. "You really think that a Cornerstone would bet on their slave's freedom?" Aventurine's own grin grows wider. "C'mon. Even Pteruges-V has better lies than you."

"Ah, right, your homeworld. No wonder you're so brazen all the time, even to your superiors. I forget that fear is a foreign concept to you people. Still," he raises your chin with a finger. "If you're so fearless, why not bet on a gamble? It's not like you're scared."

"There may be fools from my planet that you can trick with that taunt, peacock, but I'm not one of them. I'm fearless, not stupid. And with the way you're so eager to involve me in this bet, I'm beginning to suspect that you need this more than I do." You push him away. "So, no, master, I won't indulge you. I'll bide my time and look for an escape. Just like I've always had."

"And what?" He looks at you from behind his sunglasses. "Will you kill me to gain that freedom?"

You flash him a sharp grin, now amused. "Of course you'd think that, master."

The smile on his face is wiped clean. You really are a brazen thing, you.

Jade has always mentioned how soft Aventurine is on you. A dog of your attitude should merit a little more disciplinary action and even the good Doctor has told him this once or twice after seeing your arrogance despite the collar around your neck. "Your dog bites more than it deserves," Ratio scoffed while you made an action of biting him behind Aventurine. He frowned in displeasure. "You ought to make it learn a lesson or two."

"Now, now, doctor," Aventurine had laughed. "Not everyone shares the same sadistic tendencies as you." An image of you collared and shaking on your knees flashes through his mind, and he finds himself gulping. Ratio looks at him like he doesn't believe him.

It's not like he hasn't thought of it, of chaining you to the wall and starving you so that you learn that your attitude has its consequences. You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you, not when he's been so good to you. But that... that was exactly the line of thought his old master had. That wicked man who put a brand on him and sullied his hands with his wretched man... he couldn't risk turning into a monster like... that.

Aventurine is weak. Unable to let go of past sentiments and memories, he makes it up with his grand display of bravado and high-stakes gambles. He gambles even as he spoils you, laughing at your audacity and even rewarding you for it sometimes, not knowing whether you'll leave him or if you'll stay with him. It is a gamble indeed, but you were worth every risk.

"What do you think of me, [Y. Name]?" The cityscape beyond the window is glowing with Pier Point's nightlife, and his suite provides him a good view of the world beneath him. He glances back at you, stirring his coffee for him. "Your dear master Aventurine. What do you think of me?"

"Annoying, stupid, a fool, an addict, and pathetic." You don't hesitate to badmouth your master. "You lie too well, you think that luck of yours will never run out, and you try to be someone that you can't."

"And who is that someone?"

Your eyes flash. "Someone strong. Someone confident. Someone who isn't afraid to admit his weaknesses and hope that things get better."

"I didn't peg you for an optimist, dear pet."

"Hmph. That's not optimism. I may not know what exactly fear is, but I know that what is holding you back isn't it. You do not fear things, gambler. You stake it all and bet on something so intangible as luck. That can't be fear."

"Then what is it?"

The stare you give him sets his heart off, looking straight into his eyes and giving a grin so devilish and knowing like that facade of his never mattered in the first place.

"You're a coward. A plain, old coward. Nothing more, nothing less."

That conversation had always popped up in his head in the most inconvenient of moments, especially when he was about to get some sleep. His heart beat faster every time he recalled that knowing gaze of yours, invading where he didn't want the world to see and baring his soul right before your very eyes. His facade doesn't work on you.

He could care less. You were the one person he didn't want it to work on, though he'd never admit that out loud.

This meeting with the other Ten Cornerstones could not interest him any less, and it seemed to be that way for the others too. Jade is saying something on behalf of Diamond, again, and everyone is busy doing their own thing. Only Topaz seems to be the one paying at least some attention, and even then she gets distracted by Numby from time to time. Aventurine glances at the clock.

He wonders how his pup is faring while he's away. Ecstatic, perhaps.

"— All evidence leads to an underground network that is scattered among numerous planets, though thankfully all of them are within the same galaxy. I'll be forwarding an email to you all with a detailed report on each of these. Just know that most of us will be likely deported to these countries to break up the—" In the middle of Jade's tiresome monologue, the security alarms start to blare and two officers slam through the doors with looks of urgency. One of them scans the room until his eyes land on Aventurine, and they quickly approach him.

"Sir!" They say, desperate and alarmed. "Your do— I mean, slave! They've– They've escaped!"

Surprise streaks across the faces of the Ten Cornerstones, even Aventurine's. He collects himself when he catches Jade's knowing smile and chuckles to himself.

"Well, I guess this is the master's consequence for not disciplining their pet."

Did he really think you were fucking stupid? Taking on a bet for your freedom... what a bunch of bullshit. He can proclaim about how much he loves a fair gamble, but you know that's only reserved for the people around the table. You are his slave, the one he demeaningly calls 'pet'— you don't have the chance to make your own dealings.

"Halt! In the name of Qlipoth, you better stop while we're giving you a chance." These IPC henchmen were slowpokes, the lot of them. You weave in and between salary workers, crashing trolleys full of wares and coffees and hopping between levels just to shake them off their tracks. By golly, they might be incompetent but Aeons damned they were nothing but persistent.

"Ha, the Devil Hunters were more annoying than them," you mutter to yourself, skidding around the corner only to come face-to-face with two IPC henchmen. They raise their polearms to strike, but with a chilling grin stretched across your face, you say: "Hey, you: Jump."

You don't look back to see whether they made the seven-floor drop.

This reminds you of the nights you spent back in Pteruges-V: making fools out of the prissy rich, jumping across buildings to shake of the Hunters, and using whatever you had to make things go your way. Not everyone had Spirit Whisper, but those who had made good use of it and you sure as hell wouldn't miss a single chance to use it.

Your mind runs with plans as you continue to run away. Maybe you'll find a nice ship to stow away on, hopefully, one that leads to a nice planet that isn't so stuffy and rigid. Maybe like Homberto-σ, out of sight from the IPC and where everyone minded their own business.

For what felt like forever trying to shake your followers off, you finally came to a stop when you realized that only the sound of your footsteps could be heard in this labyrinth of hallways and corridors. Finally having shaken them off, you sigh as you climb up the stairs to the rooftop. 'Just jump down and sneak off to the nearest hiding place you can find.' You tug at your collar and scowl. 'When I escape, not even this collar will matter anymore. Not when I'm somewhere they won't reach me.'

You've escaped so many life-or-death situations before. Escaping slavery is no different.

"Slave [Y.Name], subordinate of Cornerstone Aventurine, you are surrounded!" A voice blares through a megaphone the moment you step onto the roof deck. You hiss as multiple glaring lights settle on you, shielding your face from them and the helicopters' onslaught of wind. "Surrender now before we are forced to take extreme measures."

Through the gaps of your fingers, you can barely make out the men in black pointing their guns at your head, the red hot of the laser making you a point-blank target. You click your tongue. Those bastards tricked you into thinking you were safe. Fuck. You couldn't even be mad. This was all on you.

"Oh, little pup. I guess I really should have listened to them when they told me to discipline you." Aventurine's seedy voice sighs behind you, smirking as he nonchalantly strides up to you. "Did you really have to do all this instead of taking the bet? Do you really hate the thought of playing with me, hm?"

"Fuck off."

"No can do, little one, you know how much I'm obsessed with you, right?" He chuckles, catching your chin between his thumb and index and forcing you to look into his eyes. Those Sigonian eyes are covered by the cloudy purple of his glasses, but even you can tell just how much he's enjoying this mess you've put yourself in. "You know I don't have a need for your skill. I could easily persuade anyone without trying, but I still let you stick around. Pup, I can't just back away from you when you know how much I want you."

You smile darkly. "That's cuz you're a sicko who likes tugging on the chain instead of being in it."

Those pretty eyes of his darken for a moment, embittered by the snarky comment at his past, before his hands trail down to your collar, hooking it with a finger and pulling on it. "Dear, while I usually have the patience for your tirades, I'd rather not do it today. You've humiliated me enough in front of the entire Corporation. So—" Pulling once again on your collar, he starts to lead you to the door. "— Let us depart without much hassle, okay?"

Humiliation sears your nerves like a hot metal, a warning growl eliciting from your mouth as he continues to tug you away from the rooftop. Close, you were so fucking close. Here you are breathing in the fresh night wind, a jump away from freedom, but then these IPC idiots all had you fooled. You don't care how many bullets will embed themselves into your skin, all you just needed to do was get away from this grip Aventurine has on you.

You grab the wrist pulling on you, yanking him towards you. His eyes widen before narrowing again, as if not believing that you still had the energy to fight like you don't have red laser points on your forehead. "[Y. Na—"

"Hey, you: S—"

You couldn't even get another syllable out. Your collar beats a few pulses before it starts squeezing your neck, crushing your windpipes and forcing you down on your knees as you choke on your blood. It sears hot around your neck and you collapse writhing on the ground as you sob and gurgle on your screams and congealed blood.

'WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY ME—' You can only curse and scream inside your head as you painfully thrash on the cement. '— A BILLION BASTARDS IN THE WORLD AND IT HAD TO BE FUCKING ME.'

Darkness is pushing in on you and the pain is making it too hard to go on, but you've always been a fighter. Even if you think that your squirming is pathetic and futile to the onlookers, you continue to tug and pull on the collar like you have a chance. Your ears are ringing and your eyes are too fucking blurry to see with, but the fight doesn't die down.

Aventurine places a soft palm on your hair. Even through the tears stinging your eyes, you can barely make out the faint expression on his face. Damned fucking bastard, damned Signonian, hypocrite and the fucking devil—!

He even has the audacity to look sad for you, as the light slips away from your eyes.

The first round is simple. Play a round of poker with him.

Aventurine hums delightedly as he shuffles the cards with clean and practised movements, looking right at home at the dealer's table he has sitting in his suite. You blankly look at the cards, not even an inch of a reaction from your side. He chuckles as he deals your cards.

"C'mon, look alive, dear." It's almost like he genuinely wants you to cheer up. "Look, I even poured out alcohol for you. It's not everyday that you get to taste Pier Point's most exquisite wine!"

You continue to stare blankly. You haven't given up yet, of course not, but... you can barely bring yourself to move.

When Aventurine is done dealing all the cards, he leans back on his chair and studies his opponent, just like he always has in the past. If you were acting normally, this would have been an easy win. After all, you always wore your heart on your sleeve and abhorred being told to control your emotions. You acted the way you felt— you curse when you anger, you boast when you're feeling smug, and you press your lips together and blush as he praises you for another job well done.

But now. Well. Bandaids cover the seared marks on your neck as well as your head after you've slammed it against the pavement during your delirious fit on the rooftop. Your arms are littered with purples and blues, the aftermath of a disciplinary session that went on throughout the night. Despite the abuse that Aventurine has (rightfully, in his mind) dealt to you, he had made sure to tend to you afterwards.

Settling your head on his lap, combing through the strands as he placed an icepack on your bruises. He hummed you an old children's rhyme from his home planet as you lay limp across the couch. You could barely move, mind unable to process the pain and despair of having an inch of freedom being ripped away from you. He had wiped away the tear that would fall from your eyes.

You couldn't feel comforted at all.

"This will be the first round out of four. Today, we'll make this a bit simple. Five quick rounds of Indian poker. If you're confident that your card is higher than mine, you can bet as much as you like. Not confident? Fold, and that won't count as a round. Loser has the lower card." He raises his glasses to his hair and smiles at you. "Understood?"

"Understood," you grunt. "I'm not a fuckin' idiot."

Aventurine only smirks. It irritates you, but you don't have much fire in you to snap at him.

The room is silent save for the clinking of chips against each other. The two of you cast a chip to the middle of the table. You raise your card to your forehead.

You cast two more chips. Aventurine casts three. You stare at the printed picture on his card and throw in another chip. He throws in another five. You frown.

"Fold."

"Ah~ You should've been more confident in yourself!" Aventurine chuckles as he begins to shuffle the deck to deal another round. You scowl at the Ace of Clubs in your hand, mocking you at your relinquished defeat. "Is a little intimidation all that's needed to make you submit? You weren't this docile before."

"Shut the fuck up and let's play again." He decides to stifle his laugh for the sake of your nerves.

"Raise." Your win, six of hearts to three of spades.

"Raise." Your win, queen of spades to jack of hearts.

"Fold." Could've been Aventurine's, ace of spades to king of spades.

"Raise." Aventurine's win, eight of clubs to six of hearts.

"Fold." Could've been yours, queen of hearts to 10 of clubs.

"Raise." Aventurine's win, nine of clubs to seven of spades.

Aventurine's practiced hands thumb through the cards as he begins to rearrange them again. His glass wine is almost empty, while yours is untouched. The man knows that you don't drink, so why would he...?

"Last round before one of us wins," Aventurine's voice lilts as he throws you your card. "How about we make it exciting? No one is allowed to fold this round." You frown at him but don't say anything. You cast another chip to the table, and he follows suit.

He has a 10 of spades pressed to his forehead, and your fingers dig deep into your skin.

'Oh please, there's other cards higher than a 10.' You remind yourself, but you gulp down your dry throat as your vision zeroes into his card. 'Jack, Queen, King, Ace. Anything. Please.' Aventurine notices your hurried breathing and smiles knowingly. You gulp whatever cowardice is rising in your throat and throw another chip.

"Raise." Fuck it. If this is the last round, then let's just ball.

He cocks his head, finding the motion unnecessary in this last round. But he sighs with a smile and plays along, casting his chips into the fray, "Then I'll raise too."

"This is the last round," you say, more so to remind yourself.

"Yep." He leans forward on the table and the fluorescent lights cast a shadow over those alluring eyes. "Nervous?"

'How could you say that? How could you taunt me like that? When you were just like me?'

You strengthen your resolve and glare up at him, the fire lighting back up in those blank eyes. "I hope you go to hell."

You throw your card to the middle, with the rest of the chips.

Jack of Clubs.

Aventurine cocks his head at you, smiling as usual.

"Congratulations, pet."

One would expect that Pier Point was the peak embodiment of wealth and luxury, being the base of the Interastral Peace Corporation. But the brightly something shone the darker its shadows.

Aventurine just so happened to like those shadows, even shrugging off those fancy clothes of his just so that he could find solace in those sleazy bars and play rounds of poker with dead-eyed salarymen and recently fired hopefuls.

The surroundings didn't fare any better. Amongst the dying neon lights, Pier Point's worst neighborhoods featured a just as nasty environment. Drunkards lying beside dumpsters with shattered beer bottles around them, cats hissing at each other in a fight for survival, and abandoned children peeking at them around the corner as they lay in wait for an opening.

Aventurine has shedded his elaborate peacock coat in favor of a simple white button-down and slacks. Despite the simplicity, he still looked out of place amongst the rags, though it made people think of him as a fearless idiot rather than run away at the sight of the IPC's elite.

"Mmm, that robin is indeed very plump," the blonde idiot remarks out of nowhere. "Quite out of place for this kind of area."

You pay him very little attention, mindlessly kicking the broken half of a bottle with your heel. It bumps into a smelly bastard who shoots you an irritated look, but quickly cowers when you return it tenfold. "Maybe it's been feeding on the leftovers of you prissy IPC folk," you spat, taking a look at the fat robin for yourself.

He takes no notice of the slight towards his kind and instead cocks his head at the cat slinking around the corner. "Well. Its health has attracted a rather unwelcome predator." He turns to you, with a mischievous smile. "How about we make this round two? Who will die first, the cat or the robin?"

Seriously? You were betting your freedom on something as stupid as this? You consider the cat— snarling, insipid thing, balding and thin as a stick— then the robin, tweeting fearfully at its perch on the graffitied wall. "Am betting on the cat. Could eat the fat thing while you go on another gamble."

He laughs, sliding on his shades as he walks into the seedy bar. "Then I have no choice but to bet on the poor robin. Let's have some fun before we see the results of our bet."

The cat is lying on the ground, heaving its last few breaths. Its yellow eyes are barely peeking out from its eyelids, probably delirious and starving in its last moments. You poke it slightly with your foot.

It meows pitifully. You instantly feel bad.

It might just be the ugliest thing you've laid your eyes on, but even the ugliest creatures deserve some sort of companionship in their last moments. It hisses weakly when you draw your hand close, but it can't do anything but relent as you stroke its hairless head. It purrs a bit, ragged and breathy, but the heaving of its ribbed chest slows as it relaxes.

"Don't do that," you murmur. "Just... just be quiet. It's okay."

The quiet steps of leather shoes stop beside you, and Aventurine watches on in silence as you comfort the dying thing. His gaze moves from the cat to the robin, still perched on top of the wall with his fat little chest and beady eyes. It hasn't moved from its position at all, just... staring and staring.

"So—"

"I know," you murmur, focus still on the poor thing. "I know, okay?"

The fat robin chirps again, tittering with its mocking chirp, before it flies away into the sky.

Your cat closes its eyes shut, and its skinny chest finally slows to a stop.

Aventurine stays with you for a while as you find a nice spot of earth to bury it.

No matter how much you want to believe your preconceived image of the blonde gambler— irresponsible, materialistic, money-wasting— you can't just make up lies about him in your head when all of his missions end on a win for him. Right now, he's heading for another mission in a galaxy far away again. And like always, he's dragged you along whether you like it or not.

"Come on, you like sightseeing other planets!" He laughs on the space warp going there. "Makes your blood pumping, scouting out the possible planets you can run away to."

"If I can run away," you grumble, not wanting to acknowledge him as you stare out the window and into the starry expanse of galaxies and space. This sight has always unnerved you— a reminder of how small and insignificant you are. How small and insignificant this collar hand on your life.

"It's not like you to be such a downer," he huffs. He pats the empty seat beside him. "Come, come. Drink with me. Ah, but no alcohol though. Don't want you trying to bite my entourage as soon as we get off." He's referring to the time that you had two sips of the lightest alcohol the ship had in stock before you absolutely wasted and decided that running away to the next planet was a good idea.

You grunt but sit on the floor next to his feet. He doesn't dare to correct you but only regards you with amusement before handing you a glass of sparkling water. You've always had this weird insistence of maintaining your master-slave status quo, despite abhorring your status as a slave. You followed his commands to the tee no matter how dangerous but refused to budge whenever he insisted on treating you like an equal.

"Don't get me wrong," you had snapped at him angrily one time. "As long as I'm in this stupid collar, I am not your fucking equal. So don't go around treatin' me like one, got it?!"

"You got the briefing, right? I'll be dismantling an underground operation on our next planet, so I'll be making good use of your Spirit Whisper." You sip your drink and make no reaction. "I'm sure you have no complaints about that, right?"

"Like I have a fuckin' choice."

He laughs into his cocktail. "Right. How could I forget?" Your eyes narrow into slits when he threads his thin fingers through your hair, but you don't make any move to remove them. "Unfortunately, this isn't an operation that I can just charm and gamble my way through, so you'll be doing a lot of heavy lifting. But so long as I have you, my dearest pet, I'm sure we'll be done before we know it."

You fight the urge to give into his tender touch, massaging your scalp as he combs your strands, though your eyelids are drooping now. He chuckles fondly when you rest your chin on the sofa, right next to his thigh. Adorable, how easily you succumb to the smallest of physical affection.

"Just take a nap," he hums. "We'll be there before you know it."

Aventurine's lavish outfit is a stark contrast against the nitty and gritty environment of the gambling den the two of you are staking out right now. Some of the men leer at him when he passes by, their faces painted by sweat and malice, and the promiscuous women bat their eyes at him with painted-on sweet smiles. No one bats an eye at the collared servant trailing behind him.

You try not to wince as you accidentally make eye contact with another slave, them kneeling on the ground with only rags to cover them and you have the luxury to look away as you grip the sleeves of your ironed button-down. You decide to just fix your eyes on Aventurine's back for the rest of the journey.

The next room you enter— less room to be honest, and more... coliseum-y— features a fighting ring where the crowd cheers on two dogs circling each other under the fluorescent spotlights. The other one, bigger and scarred, is baring his teeth while bearing a deep red gash across his body. The smaller one is shivering but giving the same energy back, snarling in intimidation while also sporting a noticeable limp. Despite the darkness of the room, you don't miss the way Aventurine's face contorts into disgust as he looks at the fight and surveys the crowd of spectators.

"Disgusting," he murmurs. You don't say anything back, though you doubt he could hear you amidst all this cheering. You used to bet on dogs too, back in the day. It was quick and easy money, and you had better things to worry about than the fate of some mutt.

While you're focused on the pathetic dog show in front of you, he steps to your side and nudges you with his elbow. "Willing to bet?" He asks, eyes focused on the show. "As our third round."

"From the look on your face, I thought you hated this kind of thing."

"I do, but I'm not putting money in the pot like the rest of them. This is strictly between you and me with no money involved." He turns his gaze to you. "So, what about it?"

You study the dogs. They've been circling each other for a while now, and the crowd's been growing more and more agitated by the lack of fighting. You think of the dogs you've bet on before, how the smaller ones had just an equal chance of success at winning as the bigger ones. Unconsciously, you tug at your collar. It matches perfectly with the stupid dogs down below.

"Bet," you huff. "I'm taking the smaller one."

You don't know why. It'd make sense to just bet on the bigger and badder, but maybe it's that ferocity in his eyes even if it's overshadowed by the growling menace that has you feeling for it. It's stupid, you know, betting your freedom on a hunch and emotions. But...

If it could have a chance at winning... then why can't you?

...

... Are you destined to die, just like it?

... Are you destined to die as a slave for another IPC slave?

... Will your death be just as morbid and pathetic as the mongrel, his innards spilling onto the pavement while the winner is pulled away by the collar, with no prize but another day of freedom?

This is round three out of four. You've only won one so far.

The very next round could kill you. Could completely sign away your freedom.

Shit shit shit shit shit. Why'd you have to go feeling sorry for the stupid shit? Why'd you have to empathize with its futile fight? Why'd you have to go see yourself in it? Now you could very much share its fate, dying pathetically serving for people who never cared about you in the first place.

Shit shit shit shit shit. The pressure of the bet has always been at the back of your mind, niggling at your brain. But now you can feel its heavy weight squeezing around your heart, in perfect rhythm with the phantom choking of your collar. If you don't win the next, you could very much—

Something light touches your shoulder and you lurch back like you had been stricken there. It disgusts and scares you, sending both repulsion and fear through your body like maggots wriggling into your system.

With a faltering outstretched palm, Aventurine's eyes widen behind his glasses. He sees something on your face, enough to make him bite down whatever cocky shit he has to say, and turns his back towards you.

"Let's go," he says, just barely audible above the crowd. "We still have a mission to complete.

"This is some silly joke of yours, isn't it?" Aventurine maintains his cool facade, but even then there is disgust in his tone as he speaks to Jade. "Giving a slave to another... you must think this is hilarious."

"Amusing, maybe, but this little one is too precious to let loose in the wild." Jade strokes your head, and while you curse in warning, you don't move to attack. "A user of Spirit Whisper, a rarity even among those in Pteruges-V. Don't you think it'd be better if they served the Amber Lord rather than going back to their pretty crimes?"

"Then give them to someone else." Aventurine turns his back on you and Jade. "Since when did I need help closing a deal?"

"Well, I just thought that you were lonely."

"And you think gifting me a slave of all things would help me?"

"Oh, just give them a chance. I'm sure you'll like this one. Look." Jade raises your chin with a finger, lifting your bruised face to the light. You shoot her a glare, plotting murder in your head, but you don't try to fight back. You might have tried once, probably, and learned your lesson. "Don't you love the fire in their eyes, even after being collared and brutally beaten?"

It is sick. It is sick how Jade can just easily muse about your past abuse to his face. To him. It is sick how the IPC thinks that Aventurine would even be happy about this... gift, let alone accept it.

"I appreciate the... thought." Jade smiles at the barely held back distaste in his voice. "But I'd really rather not."

"Oh, I see..." Jade hums, tilting her head to scrutinize you. "But no one else will accept you since you're too feisty for their liking. So I guess..."

"We'll just have to kill you."

Your face pales. Aventurine has never been quick to turn around.

"Fine. I'll accept," he says with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. "I'll accept your gift, so just..." He sighs, massaging his temples and waving Jade off. "Go away and let us be."

"Is this some sort of savior complex you have going on?" Despite being a slave, you haven't really learned how to hold that spiteful tongue of yours. Half of the fault lies with Aventurine, seeing how he's never bothered to scold you for it. He looks away from the reports in his hand and smiles at you.

"Oh, whatever do you mean, my dear pup?" Your bitter scowl is pushed down even further at his sweet tone and you scoff.

"I mean," you say, gesturing all around you. "You never scold me, you give me good food, you do all these nice things for me. You don't beat and lash at me like others do. Are you feeling sorry? As one slave to another?"

"Personally, I've never heard of a slave complain about treating this well."

"It's weird." You frown. "It's weird and creepy. All these niceties yet I can tell that you don't even mean half of 'em. Your heart isn't in it. You're just doing it for the sake of being nice. So I don't get it." You cross your arms and lean on the couch, deep in thought. "If you don't even mean it, why even bother?"

Aventurine hums, studying your silent and pondering figure before returning to his papers. You don't follow up your complaints with anything else, and the two of you are left to stew in the silence.

... Why even bother indeed?

"Last round and you only have one win, pup." His sickly sweet voice croons, tapping his perfect nails on the table as he watches your expression. "Are you excited?"

Normally you'd bite back, but today you thickly swallow. The looming sense of doom continues to hammer into the back of your skull, spiking your nerves with every beat and shaking your senses. You can barely feel your fingers. You can barely feel except for the fear coiling around your heart.

"... Yes." You can't even barely say a syllable.

Through the rushing blood of your ears, you can barely make out the sound of your master rummaging through something. Something metallic clicks into place and he slides it to the center of the table. You will yourself to look up—

A shiny revolver lies on the table.

A surprised cry elicits from your mouth and you jolt back. The sight of a weapon is enough to startle your poor nerves now and even more so the expectant look glinting in Aventurine's eyes. He smirks and leans forward.

"How about I make an offer you can't refuse?" Not that you were in a position to do so. "Since this is the fourth round, how about we go all in?"

"Russian Roulette. Whoever wins stays alive—"

—And the other lays dead in a puddle of their own blood.

It goes unsaid, but the moment you locked eyes with Aventurine, it was clear that the both of you were thinking of the same thing. You could ponder upon why the Aventurine would stake his own life over something so trivial as your freedom, but you aren't thinking anymore. All you want is your freedom. All you want is to get away.

You don't think further as you wrap your fingers around the handle of the gun and press it to your temple. You pull the trigger. Only a clean click follows, the chamber changing cases. You slide the gun over to him.

He calmly picks it up and slots it to his temple too. "Why are you so desperate to get away from me, pup?" He cocks his head. "I would give you everything you ask for, should you just ask. I treat you with care and as a friend. Is being with me so bad you'd put your life on the line for your freedom?"

He pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. He slides it over to you.

"Even if you go back to your old life, what would be the point? You'll go back to stealing whatever you can off nobles, treating your fellow street rats like fools and pawns before dashing off to your next victim. Would that give you happiness? Fulfillment? Is that the life you prefer instead of being next to me?"

"Sh... Shut up." You sound drained, but he presses on.

"You can have it all, in the price of a collar. Does it not sound good enough to you?"

'Why... Why of all people is he...'

"Do you really hate being owned by me?"

"Why are you..." You choke on your words, grip around the handle trembling. "Why are you saying those things?"

Aventurine has never seen you cry. Not once. Not even when he had to punish you for running away. You could be weak and beaten, but you never willingly cried. But now...

He raises a hand to cover his smile.

"I thought... I thought you of all people would understand." Tears drop to your lap and your hand lowers the gun from your temple. "The pain, the humiliation of being a slave, of being owned. It doesn't matter how nice you are to me. I just want to be free. Shouldn't that be enough?"

Silence overtakes the room as Aventurine takes in the unfamiliar sight before him. Here you were, his greatest treasure, the most vulnerable than you ever were. Sobbing and weeping with a gun in hand, the pressure of the bet finally getting to you.

He moves. "... So this is it? For your pride?"

You wince, looking at him in betrayal. "You... I thought you of all people would at least understand..." You stay silent, the words forming on your tongue but too afraid to sound them out. Then your expression twists into anger, then resolute determination, before you wipe away your tears and glare at him like you always did. "I was wrong. You're scum. Just like the rest of 'em."

The moment the head of the gun points at his head, the collar clamps down and chokes you till your throat cracks and bleeds. The current of electricity crackling your nerves is just as painful and torturous as last time, but you grit your bloodied teeth and press the gun further.

Aventurine looks dazed, staring up into your bloodied face. If you weren't in such agonizing pain you would have laughed at how stupid he looks.

"[Y. Name]..."

"I hope you go to hell," you hiss through the bloody pain. "And I hope that when I get there, I'll never have to fucking see you again."

You pull the trigger to that beautiful face of his, but nothing happens once again. Fuck. It falls to the ground as the pain overwhelms you and you finally stagger. It lays among the specks of blood on the carpet, along with its empty... case...

Your eyes flick to Aventurine, still caught off guard and staring at you with wide eyes. Hesitantly, he reaches out to your convulsing body and cradles your head. "[Y. Name]..." He says, still sounding dazed. "Why would you..."

"Fuckin'... coward..." You grit out. "I was right... from the very start..."

Aventurine watches as you succumb to the pain and collapse in his arms. Despite being unconscious, the collar continues to shock and choke you, and more and more blood spouts from the side of your mouth and into the carpet. He tries to wipe it, despite it continuing like a fountain, before giving up and stroking your hair as the pain continues to intrude on you in your sleep.

"I know," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your eyelid. "You know it as well as me." He presses a kiss onto the other.

"You were never a bet I was willing to wager."

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Grumpy old man | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> BestFriend!Steve Rogers x BestFriend!Female!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> Steve is grumpy all day since he had seen you with an agent who is better known as a playboy.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.159

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> allusion of smut, fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> hiii darling! so I've a request for Steve Rogers🥰 smutty Steve thing. best friends to lovers? Maybe Steve sees "his" girl talking with another agent or something ( platonic) and he's a bit jealous? She could find him being grumpy as hell all day so she goes to his room ask what's wrong?so the feelings and jealousy just comes out and he tells her how much he's in love? She can kiss him to shut him up? and leads to smut? Lots of love 🥰🥰 @rogersbarber

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for the requests. It’s not with a lot of smut but I hope you still like what I made with your request.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 1K Follower Special | “Me and.… are just friends. You’re kidding, right? …. looks at you like you’re their entire world.” | @lives-in-midgard

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

Blue eyes piercing in your back, he narrows and his jaw is clenched while he looks at you talking to another agent. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous — you’re best friends — but he just can’t help himself feeling that way. Especially when you’re talking to the agent, who is better known as the playboy.

Usually Steve isn’t a man who gets jealous, maybe because he doesn’t like a woman the way he likes you. But the two of you have been best friends forever, and he doesn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you because he fell for you. Little does he know that you’re just as much in love with him, and even though you like talking to the agents, none of them is like Steve or could give you the feelings you feel when he is around you or touches you. Even the slightest touch of him causes a desire inside of you.

Steve hums, rolling his eyes, when you hug the agents before you turn around and see Steve waving at him. He doesn’t wave at you; he just looks at you with narrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw. In his hand, he holds a piece of cake, which he squeezes, breaking it and letting it fall on the surface of the table.

“Hey, grumpy. What’s wrong, huh?” You ask teasingly, but Steve doesn’t answer.

He takes a bite of the cake, filling his mouth with it over and over again. You giggle slightly, taking a seat next to him and facing him. You look at him while he eats the cake with his grumpy expression.

When he’s finished and still doesn’t answer you, you place your hand on his shoulder, looking at him with a pout on your lips. Steve also ignores that one; he just turns away, gets up from the chair, and walks along the floor to his room.

“He’s been grumpy all day, hasn’t he?” Natasha asks, and you nod.

She is standing at the door, looking after Steve, before she turns toward you and walks closer, taking a seat in the chair next to you. She smiles at you, placing her warm, encouraging hand on your shoulder.

“Maybe you should talk with him.”

“About what? He didn’t tell me why he was grumpy.”

“Don’t act like you’re stupid; we both know you’re not stupid,” she says, but you just furrow in confusion. “Everyone can see that you like him, and he likes you.”

“Me and Steve are just best friends,” you say, smiling when you think about the man who owns your heart.

“You’re kidding, right?” She asks, but you shake your head.

Even when you could imagine being more than just friends, Steve probably doesn’t feel the same way about you. And you don’t want to tell him because when he doesn’t feel the same, it could ruin your friendship. So you just keep it to yourself and admire the older man whenever he is around you; you enjoy his soft touches or the cuddles during your movie nights.

“Steve looks at you like you’re his entire world.”

You gasp. Does he really look at you like that? Could he do it because he likes you more than you think, or is he just looking at you like that because that’s what best friends are doing? You’re too deep in your thoughts to realize another word that Natasha says until he taps your shoulder and brings you back into reality.

She turns the chair around and pushes you up, making you stand in front of her and look in the direction of the floor. Natasha rolls her eyes, chucking softly while she gets up as well, and pushes you in front of her through the room.

“Nat— I don’t think I should tell him now. Haven’t you seen how grumpy he was?” You ask, thinking to stop Natasha from pushing you further through the floor.

Before you can say something else, you’re standing in front of Steve’s door. Natasha knocks at the door, and then she walks to her room. Just in time, she closed her door when Steve opened it in front of you. He is still looking at you with his grumpy expression, and it makes him look pretty cute. You can’t stop yourself from giggling softly.

“Stevie,” you say, and he just nods.

“Wanna come in?”

He takes a step to the side, making space for you to enter the room before he closes the door behind you. You’re inhaling his scent deeply; it immediately relaxes you, and you walk with him to his bed, letting yourself fall down on it. Steve sits next to you, his back resting against the head board while he looks at you. His blue eyes are glistening, and a small smile appears on his lips when your eyes meet.

“Why are you so grumpy today?”

Steve’s gaze drops, his smile fades away, and he plays with his fingers in his lap. He always does when he is nervous, and you place your hand on his leg and draw small circles on it to clam him down. Steve wants to tell you what’s wrong and why he is grumpy, but he doesn’t know how. His hands are shaking and sweating, and he needs to rub them over his pants covered thighs to dry them. Steve sighs, swallowing harshly; his cheeks heat up, and then he looks at you.

“I—you've just talked with him. He is a playboy, and you were so close to him,” Steve says, lifting his hands.

He slides his fingers through his soft blond hair. Steve sighs deeply, looking away before he turns to face you again.

“He will only fuck you. He— he doesn’t like you like—“

“Like what, Steve?” You ask with a smile.

“Like I do.”

He turns away, blushing immediately. He rubs his hands once again over his pants. You smirk, turning around and getting on his lap. Steve looks confused for a moment, but when you capture his cheeks with your hand, he smiles softly. He leans closer, his breath hitting your lips, and you shiver slightly. Steve breaks the distance between the two of you, pressing his soft lips on yours and his hands finding their way to your hips.

Steve pulls you closer until you’re sitting on his growing bulge. It’s pressing uncomfortably in his pants and causes some friction between your legs when you slowly move your hips against him. You moan softly while Steve pulls away and looks with desire in his blue eyes into yours.

“I’m in love with you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

You smirk when you rock your hips against him, and he moans. Steve looks through his lashes, pushing his hips up to meet yours. His hands roam over your body, and he kisses along your neck, causing you to moan louder and rock your hips harder against his length.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

[goldustwomun]

bite the hand (e.m.)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x girlfriend!reader

summary: things come crashing down around you when you watch eddie from the sidelines of the stage. you know you shouldn't leave but you beg eddie for forgiveness anyway.

warnings: (unedited) more angst folks i think i'm going through something, established relationship, swearing, tears crying sobbing (for eddie but you too babes x), i use face and features too many times but we move

wc: 2.0k+

note: short and (not so?) sweet :) :( i'm really struggling to sustain my writing for very long but oh well xoxo

Here’s the best part distilled for you But you want what I can’t give to you Your hands are gravity while my hands are tied

He should’ve known it’d get to you eventually. The screams and cries of thousands for him and only him, because as much as he stood, awestruck, by the talent of the others, it was always his name the crowd went hysterical for: Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. They’d chant and sway and go all but rabid when his black mop of hair would peak from around the stage, teasing in that very ‘Eddie’ way that you were all too familiar with when he’d feel a little more playful in bed. His mischievous eyes and quirked lips, tattooed skin and leather-clad thighs. He was the embodiment of a devilish smile, dripping, oozing, even, with sex appeal and charisma.

But it wasn’t just you, now, who noticed those things about him. The two of you weren’t perched on a bench outside of Wayne’s trailer anymore, smirking into the other’s mouth after a particularly strong joint he had rolled from his stash, legs resting on top of him as you were all but sat in his lap. Neither were you the sole body in the crowd of the Hideout, the only one out of the tens of patrons to be hanging onto every rasp of Eddie’s voice, every strum of his long fingers against the guitar.

It wasn’t just you, now, who noticed those things about him, and you knew because of the hundreds of letters he got, every other week on mail day, from adoring fans and sycophants and a few stalkers. You knew because of the way the crowd stretched so far into the distance that you couldn’t see where it ended, the countless bodies moving like a singular mass of pure, unaltered adoration for the man who assured you it’s you, it’s only ever going to be you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” And his voice broke you from the road you were beginning to travel down. You tried your best to force the smile on your lips, and really, you think he knew you were faking it but the giddy energy from the show he was soon going to be playing had already begun to fizzle through his bones and so he ignored it. He took it, instead, for something genuine despite the way it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Only a penny, Munson?” you scoffed at an attempt of playfulness. “I know for a fact you could offer me a lot more than a penny.” He laughed and your belly dipped, even all these years later, when he pressed his lips to your cheek. Eddie Munson might have been a kind of lust personified but he was also the sweetest human being you’d ever known.

“Ah, you’re right. My girl deserves much, much more,” and his lips began their slow descent from your face to the crook of your neck, fixated on that one spot that would have you shivering in mere seconds. He stopped for a moment; face still buried into your flushed skin— “Two pennies then?”

You groaned – “Eddie” -- at his pitiful attempts of humour (but really you loved it), shoving him away even if you didn’t really mean it.

“I’m only kidding, sweets, I’m only kidding!” he cooed at you, soothing your pout until it melted into that smile of yours that he loved to be the cause of as his fingers traced meaningless patterns into the exposed skin at your hip. “Forgive me?” he begged, his turn to pout now.

And it was comical, really, the way you gave into him, whatever doubts you had crumbling at the very feel of him against you, his words forcing whatever walls you were beginning to build-up only moments before to crumble into nothing at your interlaced feet.

“Always, Eddie,” you promised, voice leaving you at barely a whisper. And when you continued, heart thrumming as you waited for his answer, your words wavered: “Do you forgive me, too?”

He watched, confused, as the question left your lips, head tilted like a puppy unsure of his surroundings. “What would I ever need to forgive you for?” he asked, soft.

“Just—do you? Would you? Forgive me?”

He stared into your eyes, a penetrating gaze, begging you for an answer and explanation for your behaviour, but when you remained quiet he acquiesced. “Like you said, sweetheart: always.”

You nodded, that same, tight smile appearing on your features. The sound of a knock on his dressing room door pulled the both of you out of whatever daze hung, limp, in the air, and Eddie moved past you to answer.

“Five minutes to go, Eddie. Need to get you mic-ed up.” You couldn’t hear his answer (probably something along the lines of ‘Be right there’) over the roaring in your ears. The door clicked close again as a warm hand traveled to your waist, turning you in-place. Eddie’s hand moved to cradle your face in his palms, touch cautious like he always was when it was just the two of you. Like you were splintered glass, on the verge of breaking.

“Going to come watch outside, yeah?” And how could you say no to him and his big, brown eyes. So you nodded, followed him through the corridor leading towards stage left. People rushed around, gathering wires, plugging amps and checking cables with the kind of frenzy you’d never get used to despite having been there for almost all his shows.

Gareth, Jeff and Doug were already huddled in a corner, cheeks split into nervous grins. They waved Eddie over who gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before joining them, face dipping as someone came in to swipe some powder over his face.

You don’t remember what happened after that because the next thing you knew, the band was rushing onto the stage, the arena blacked-out, and the moments the light switched on, a deafening roar erupted from the crowd, bright lights carving out their bodies from the darkness. You edged closer to the stage, only just visible from behind a curtain, when the crowd came into view.

And you hated it, the way your gut twisted, mind reeled. You know if you had just said something, anything, to Eddie when it had begun, weeks ago on the first night of the tour. Someone had slipped a note into your back pocket as you and Eddie pushed through a crowd, security walling you in. But you had felt it, and you just knew what it was going to say.

It wasn’t the first and it wasn’t the last, but you had to applaud its author for the precision with which their words sliced at your very core, holding a mirror up to every insecurity you had ever had (and more you hadn’t even considered) until your hands were shaking, fierce.

When you stared out into the crowd, when your gaze connected with someone right in the front, and a look of disgust overtook them, you felt that lest tether inside of you snap free. The air knocked from your lungs, that same cold feeling of fear dripping down your back.

Eddie must have seen it, he was watching you the entire time, having tuned into your every move since the two of you had left his dressing room. He knew you were acting odd, skittish, like a petrified cat getting ready to flee. So when you retreated, he motioned to Jeff to keep the crowd busy before running off on in search of you.

He called after you, having bulked up enough since high school to catch up with you with ease. When you moved faster at the sound of his voice, he did too, finding you pacing in the haven of his dressing room. He shut the door, locking it, before approaching you, slow, cautious, like the floor was uneven and you on a precipice.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked, unsure.

You weren’t facing him so when your shoulders began to shake, he wasn’t sure if you were crying or laughing. But when you turned, face splotchy and chest heaving, he rushed forward, gathering you in his arms.

“What is it, my sweet girl. What’s wrong?” he murmured into the top of your head, holding you tight so that the pressure of his embrace might calm you down enough to talk, to explain or clarify or at least quell the rapid thrum of his worried heartbeat.

“I can’t Eddie, I just—” you hiccupped, voice muffled by the sound of his t-shirt— “I can’t do it.”

“It’s alright, love, just try, yeah? Just—whatever comes to mind—”

“No—You don’t get it—” and you pulled away, the distance between the two of you growing with every moment in more ways than one. “I can’t do this. This thing—” you motioned between you, and he froze.

“You can’t do what?” his voice hardening, on the offensive, and his face contorted to prepare him for the worst.

“Eddie. It’s too much. It’s been too much for so long and I know I should’ve—” a sob ripped from your chest and all he wanted to do was reach for you, his body yearned for it, but he knew better. “—I should’ve said something ages ago. Not let it go so far but it’s too late and you can blame me for—”

“—for what! Us? This? Is that all we are? Some vague abstract of now? Just come out and say it.” he was exploding, erupting, Vesuvius and Pompeii. “Go on. Say it.”

And it was your turn to yell and shout and hurl until your lungs seized. “It’s killing me, Eddie! I feel like I’m fucking dying here. I can’t compete with them, not anymore. I’m exhausted and I feel—I feel fucking heavy.” You were panting from the force of your words, the weight they carried, and you had been carrying.

“There’s no competition, sweetheart. There will never be a competition,” he pleaded, stumbling a step closer but you pushed back.

“I know you feel that way, Eds. I know you do—” his heart squeezed at the nickname. “—I know this is irrational in so many ways. It shouldn’t matter that your fans fucking despise me,” and he flinched at the crudeness of your words. “But there’s one of me and millions—holy shit, there’s millions of them, Eddie. They’re suffocating me and I just—I want to breathe, again. I need to breathe.”

The walls were crashing and crumbling and nothing he said would help to rebuild them, not this time. And he must have sensed it because it was like the air was knocked out of his lungs, too, and he fell to his knees in front of you, clinging to you like maybe if he held on tight enough, he could stop you from leaving.

“Please. My love. My sweet girl. You’re it. You’re always it,” and it must have hit him, what you had meant earlier, because he couldn’t stop rambling, stop repeating: “I forgive you. I forgive you, always, my love. It doesn’t matter what you do, you’re mine and I forgive you.”

Your heart cracked open then, your hand cradling his tear-soaked face to where he was burrowing himself into the pillow of your stomach. You couldn’t bear it anymore, to hear him, see him, touch him, whilst you cut away the pieces of your love. You brushed the hair from his forehead, your own tears falling on him and he cursed himself for making you cry.

You still don’t know if what you did was from a place of strength or weakness, if the way you went about it, with thousands still waiting for him mere feet away, was cruel or kind. But you needed to do it, or at least, that’s what you kept repeating to yourself in your head.

That and Eddie, Eddie, Eddie -- your mind chanted.

You were the only audience he ever needed. If only you knew.

As always, reblog + comment if you enjoyed this or want more! Requests are opennnnn :D

[forever-rogue]

let me just say i am obsessed with your work and i have a small concept with pre-outbreak!joel that i’d like to share. you’re welcome to develop this as a full fic, a headcanon or even just discuss it.

joel has been dating you for a while, it’s his first serious relationship since sarah’s mom left and needless to say he’s very much in love. but being with you comes with a lot of pressure. as i said, it’s his first real relationship and he tries to be the absolute best partner for you. in the beginning you don’t pay attention to it because what you have is new and of course you do a lot to make it work but as time passes, you realize it’s a bit more serious than that.

he literally drives himself crazy trying to be the perfect partner. to the point where he’s stressing himself out or feeling guilty about things that are either normal or out of his control. for example, let’s say it’s your birthday and he wants to take you to a nice restaurant. you happen to be late (maybe an issue with his car or traffic) and lose the reservation. it’s okay, you assure him it’s fine but he feels terrible and just trying to fix it. in a similar way, if you ever have an argument and you decide to leave to clear your mind, it will bring the worst anxiety out of him. it’s all small things that pile up until you realize that he’s actually terrified he isn’t enough because if he wasn’t enough to make the mother of their child stay, why would you?

you can choose how you work it out so he feels more secure in the relationship or tell me what you think of this, i’d love to hear your opinion 🙂

AN | Okay but this is so soft and heartbreaking at the same time. But there is a happy ending! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel was standing on your doorstep, clutching a bouquet in his hand. He felt like he was shaking and sweating and going to throw up all at once. Needless to say he was nervous. It had been so long since he’d been on a date, let alone a first date. And not just any first date, but a first date with you. 

You, that had almost knocked him over, literally and metaphorically, in the grocery store and left him feeling like a scared teenager. You’d been the one to ask him out, in fact, but he was still somehow convinced that you’d made some kind of mistake or were going to change your mind.

He rocked back and forth on his heels for a few moments as he listened for your footsteps. When he heard you unlock the door and slowly open it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. 

“Joel,” your pretty lips pulled in a big smile as you looked him over, “you’re here!”

“Of course I am,” he replied sweetly, a soft twang to his warm drawl, “did you think I wouldn’t show up?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted sheepishly, your face growing warm, “men are weird sometimes…even more so when it’s a woman asking a man out. But I’m so glad you’re here.”

“You look beautiful,” he couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten or how pretty you were. You were wearing a pretty little sundress and that alone was enough to cause his mind to practically spiral; he was just a mere mortal man and even he was not immune to the effect of a sundress. He pulled himself together to hand you the flowers that were still tightly clutched in his hand, “these are for you.”

“They’re lovely,” you took them gently, your fingers brushing against his, “thank you so much. No one’s given me flowers in so long, this is so kind.”

“They reminded me of you, bright and pretty,” maybe he wasn’t totally terrible at this after all.

“Come on in for a moment while I put these in some water,” you moved back inside and motioned for him to follow you. He slowly followed you inside, looking around your humble abode to try and get a good feel for you, “so, have you decided what we’re going to do this evening?”

“I have a few things in mind,” he grinned, a little half smile that made your heart speed up a little bit as you quickly moved to set the flowers into a vase with fresh water, “I can tell you or you can be surprised.”

“Surprise me,” you set the flowers on the counter and looked at him sweetly.

“Surprise it is.”

“I have a feeling you’re going to surprise me a lot, Joel Miller,” you grabbed your purse and he shot you a cheeky little wink, “I look forward to it.”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel Miller couldn’t believe his luck. It had been a year, a whole ass year, since the two of you had gone on your first date. That might have been one of the best days of his life, topped only by the birth of his daughter. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and knew that he wanted to ask you to marry him.

But there was still some remaining doubt that kept nagging at the back of his mind.

A part of him was always waiting for you to realize that he didn’t deserve you and to leave. Not that you’d done anything to ever suggest that was going to happen but still. He thought about it…a lot. He’d felt like a complete failure when his wife had left him and their daughter when she was only a few months old without so much as a proper explanation. If the woman he’d loved and married, the mother of his daughter, didn't want anything to do with him, why would anyone else? And what did he have to offer anyway? Nothing. Not in his mind anyway. 

And he loved you, so much. He would do anything to keep you in his life. So he threw himself into everything he did; he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you, even if it all but killed him. 

You appreciated everything he did for you, so much and all the things he did were definitely not lost on you. At first it didn’t really hit you just how much he was driven to perfection until you started to see some of the cracks in the facade. 

It happened one night when you were over at Joel’s house for dinner with him, Sarah, and Tommy that you noticed something was off. Joel had seemed so tense and distracted since you’d arrived. You’d made it to the Miller household a little earlier than you had initially told them in order to help finish up dinner and get everything set up. 

Sarah had answered the door and let you in with a big hug before you made your way into the kitchen. You adored the girl, and her father, and you were happy that she seemed to like you too. You weren’t trying to force your way into her life, but let her welcome you at her own pace. It had only been her and Joel for pretty much her entire life so you were sure that this was a whole new world for her too. 

“Hi baby,” you grinned as you walked into the kitchen, setting down the desserts you’d brought. Joel turned around and his entire face dropped when he realized it was you. Ouch. That managed to sting a little bit, “everything alright?”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he looked at his watch and ran a hand through his messy hair, “for almost another hour!”

“I finished earlier than I thought at work,” you shrugged lightly, “and thought I’d come over to help. I didn’t think it was a big deal…I can go if that’s better?”

“No - no,” he insisted softly, “no, I’m glad you’re here, it’s just that nothing’s ready. It’s not set for you yet.”

“You don’t have to do all the work silly man,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “let me help. I’m more than happy to - I want to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you whispered as you decided to hug him; he looked like he could use a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly to his broad frame, “just let me know what I can do to help, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, allowing himself a moment to bury his face in your neck and to breathe your warm scent in. When he pulled back, you kissed him sweetly, “okay.”

Once you had everything squared away and ready, Joel ran upstairs to shower and change, leaving you and Sarah to set the table. She looked at you for a moment before quietly saying, “he really likes you, you know?”

“I do,” you smiled softly, “I really like him too.” 

“He’s never been with anyone since I was born,” she scooted over to you so there wasn’t a chance for Joel to overhear, “I don’t even remember my mom; she just up and left when I was a baby. But I’ve always had my dad. And it’s nice to see him happy ‘cause he deserves it.”

“Oh,” your expression softened, “he told me it’s been the two of you but never went into what happened.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. I never had the chance to know my mom so it never really bothered me. But I know my dad really likes you, he’s been so happy lately it’s kinda gross. He’s trying really hard. He just wants you to be happy too.”

“I am really happy, Sarah,” you promised, “and I want your dad to be as well. I love him a lot and you both mean a lot to me.”

“This is too sappy,” she snorted in amusement and rolled her eyes playfully, “but…you mean a lot to me too. Just so you know.”

“Don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep it between us,” you shot her a wink, causing her to giggle softly, “you mean a lot to me too.”

“What are you whispering about, huh?” Joel came back downstairs and into the kitchen, his eyes flitting between the two of you, “planning a mutiny?”

“Duh, old man,” Sarah pushed past him, and Joel raised an eyebrow. 

He was just joking around, mostly, but he was also panicking internally - just mildly but still. It was there. His first thought was that somehow the two of you were talking about him…but not in a flattering way. What if you were telling Sarah you were tired of him? What if you were telling her that you were planning on breaking up with him? What if you told her that -

“Joel?” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. He blinked a few times as he snapped back into reality before looking at you, “where’d you go, space cadet?”

“Just zoned out,” he offered you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you insisted, “it’s been a long day, I’m sure tired as well. We’ll call it an early night tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, heart constricting at your gentle nature. You were always so sweet and kind but he still found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop, “sounds good, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it, “a lot.”

“I love you too,” he hoped you never stopped saying that. He wanted to hear it for the rest of his life. He was going to try his damndest to keep you in his life forever. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I can’t believe it,” Joel shook his head as he looked at the maitre’d, “it’s only fifteen minutes! You can’t tell me that you don’t have a table available anymore.”

“I’m sorry sir, the reservation was for 6:30 and we have a ten minute policy for being tardy,” he remained calm but you could see that Joel was only growing more annoyed, “as you can see we’re very busy.”

“I made these reservations three months ago-”

“I’m sorry, sir. That’s our policy,” you put your hand on Joel’s arm and squeezed it gently. He looked at you with a deep frown on his face. 

“It’s alright,” you promised him, voice gentle and soft, “we can go somewhere else, it’s no big deal.”

“Fine,” he huffed after a moment and turned on his heel to leave. You offered the man a small smile as you followed your boyfriend out the door. He immediately started walking to the truck, leaving you to trail after him in his wake, “this is fucking ridiculous.”

You flinched as he slammed his door against the side of the truck, “Joel. I need you to calm down. It’s really not a big deal - I don’t care where we go, I just want to spend time with you.”

“But it’s your birthday,” he hissed, “it should be nice. I had this all planned out and I fucked up and made us lose the reservation.”

“Hey,” you slowly took a step closer to him, “do you want to tell me what’s really going on?”

“I just wanted everything to be perfect for you,” his shoulders slumped as he looked at you with misty eyes. Clearly there was a lot more going on underneath the surface, “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“W-what?” you looked at him in confusion, wondering where that train of thought had suddenly come from. You reached up and out your hand on his cheek, gently brushing away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks, “why on earth would I leave you? That has never crossed my mind.”

“I want to give you everything, you deserve it but I feel like I can’t give it to you,” he pressed his hand gently onto yours, “sometimes I wonder why you’re with a loser like me.”

“Joel,” he hated, and loved, how gently you always managed to say his name. You always had such a tender way about you, “I have never once thought you were a loser. Never. I love you, silly man, so much. You’re perfect to me - for me. Why would you even think that I would feel like that?”

“I couldn’t even get the mother of my kid to hang around. She up and left and sent divorce papers and left us,” he sighed softly, “sometimes I wonder how long it’ll be before you get tired of me as well.”

“I’m not her. I’m me,” you reminded him gently, “I’m never going to get tired of you. Oh my gosh, you don’t know how much I adore you, do you? Joel, no one has ever been as good and kind to me as you have. I look forward to spending time with you even if its just at home watching a movie. When we’re apart I look forward to seeing you. Not because of things like fancy dinners or grand gestures or whatever - not that I don’t love those - but because I love being around you. It’s because of you, not anything else. We could have nothing but as long I have you, and Sarah, it’s more than enough. It’s everything.”

Joel looked at you, trying to make sure he’d heard everything you’d said correctly and you weren’t about to laugh at him. When he saw the soft smile on your face, the tender way you were looking at him, he knew that you weren’t joking. He nodded slowly, sniffling before whispering, “I love you.”

“I know you do,” you promised, “you’ve never once given me a reason to doubt that. I love you too, Joel.”

“I know,” he reached for your hand, hesitantly and gently, lacing his fingers through yours, “you’ve never given me a reason to doubt that either.”

“Good,” you squeezed his hand gently, “I think we’re on the same page, right?”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “we are.”

“If you ever have any doubt, just let me know and I’ll remind you just how much I love you. But…does that mean we can go and get dinner? Some McDonalds fries sound amazing right now.”

“You want to go to McDonalds? On your birthday?” That was one of the many things he loved about you - you weren’t pretentious or picky or anything. You were just you. 

“Are you going to go with me?”

“Obviously,” he snorted in amusement, shaking his head fondly at you. 

“Then hell yeah,” you teased, “let’s go and get tons of McDonalds and go home and watch a movie. That sounds perfect.”

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he agreed as he opened the car door for you. He buckled your seatbelt for you before leaning in to kiss you gently, “happy birthday baby.”

“Thank you,” you made sure to steal another kiss from him, “I love you, Joel Miller.”

“I love you. So much.”

[leqonsluv3r]

Can I pls request one where Leon is obsessed with his wife’s small baby bump? Like especially when she wears dresses he just can’t stop staring 🧎‍♀️🌸

baby blues

—re4!leon kennedy!husband x pregnant wife!reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: MDNI, 18+, a lot of fluff, leon being the best baby daddy out there, reader kind of hates being pregnant at times, reader deals with some body issues and how their body is changing, leon is so sweet and supportive, gives cocky hot dad vibes, mentions of pregnancy pain, oral (f receiving), breast play, lots of kissing and praise, mentions of past sex, mentions of doctors offices, cursing, leon and reader being the cutest little husband and wife out there.

“you had tried. tried stretching, tried taking a pill and had tried sleeping. but everything hurt. everything. your feet, your head, your back and especially your breasts. it felt like something was tugging and poking at all the soft parts of your body. it was torture, almost. if there wasn’t a handsome man next to you, rubbing your back as you laid on your side. leon dulled the ache a little, he looked at you still like the day he met you four years ago, even when you were pregnant, fat and you felt like death had taken over certain parts of your body. leon still looked at you like you were the most precious thing. and it made you wanna cry, scream and kiss him all at the same time.”

— or reader gets pregnant and tries to come to terms with it and leon has no problem helping her out

masterlist taglist

an: thank you for the request anon <33 hope you enjoy it. this was such a cute little thing to write. might make a headcanon list soon just for this specific request :,)

you and leon had talked about kids, about babies.

about the joy it would bring both of you to have something made by the two of you. to make you both enjoy the ties of your marriage and love.

you, however didn’t expect to get pregnant so soon after your marriage. but leon…leon was hard to resist and your body craved him and it was your choice. a choice that you made over and over and over again.

until two lines changed his life and yours entirely, it was hard ignore how the both of you panicked. the excitement, nerves and the rushing of your heart beating accelerated as you stared at the test…four month ago.

you both had been so careful, so very careful, but in one night of heated touches and sloppy kisses, you decided to fuck the condom and just deal. thinking the birth control you took would be enough, but it…it was not. definitely not.

you dealt with being pregnant like a champ, or tried to. you were sore now, you were fatter and you felt like a truck had hit you when you simply moved to grab something.

you loved the idea of carrying a child in retrospect, when leon had pounded you into the mattress many times before, thinking and muttering all the obscene words and images about breeding you. you literally keened at the idea, but now, now that you were here and doing it, you wanted to rip this kid out of you.

you hurt every moment of everyday, you were tired and hungry and whenever you saw that stupid ASPCA commercial on the tv with the dogs, you started bawling like a child. it was obnoxious and to think it would only get more strenuous as the moments that passed was literal torture.

and the doctors appointments, the vitamins you had to take and the way your body changed. it was a lot to handle, you had leon. you had him to help but sometimes it didn’t feel like it was enough. you couldn’t dress like you usually did anymore and could only wear the sundresses and other dresses you had hanging in your closet.

it felt like you were playing dress up, but it was the only thing you were comfortable in these days. the only thing that fit over the bump. the only thing that made you feel pretty and not like an inflated blimp.

and the one thing besides the pain, the bloating and the never ending amount of morning sickness you’ve had to deal with…the one thing you held onto was by the end of it you would get to be a mom. leon would get to be a dad, that was the only thing that kept you tethered to reality these days.

but leon enjoyed the sight of you in your dresses, that was one thing that also kept you tethered. the way he still ate you alive with his eyes, scouring you still as if you haven’t changed at all. you would always find his blue eyes piercing into your pregnant frame whenever you’d slip on a dress for the day or when you were bare and just got out of the shower.

it made you more aroused then usual, the only thing worse was the leon never acted on it. he never once stopped you and brought you to your guys bedroom. he never offered to eat you out anymore. you didn’t know why he was staring but wouldn’t act. was he worried that he’d hurt you? or the baby? you didn’t know, you had no clue.

but it was festering, each look he gave you in your pretty little dresses with your bump of pregnancy was making your skin hotter everyday. you didn’t know how much longer of this pregnancy you could take if he didn’t act on his desires. most importantly, your own.

two weeks, later and your sick of everything.

your sick of walking, your back pain, the peeing every five minutes. just everything makes you annoyed or feel like your going to crawl out of your own skin. you don’t get comfort in bed, you toss and turn. you’re then frustrated because you can’t sleep on your stomach, you wanna rip this baby out of you and it’s only the four month mark.

leon is a saint though. he’s bringing you food, rubbing your feet, holding your hair back when you throw up from the morning sickness. you feel bad for being such a bitch, for being so mean and hormonal. you try not to snap or throw a hissy fit.

but it’s hard.

you’re also sick of the doctor asking you twenty million questions when you go to your next appointment. already fed up from lack of sleep and your bowel movements. the baby is healthy, so everyone is happy. just not you.

another thing, leon keeps eyeing you and basically fucking you with his eyes. another thing that’s just adding up into your short limit of patience. you wanna scream at him to just fuck you, do something. you need a release. and if you could do it on your own, you would. but you can’t even see over your stomach or much less reach it.

so your just stuck feeling pent up and frustrated with everything. until one day, one day you just snap. you just lose your shit. you don’t remember what really caused it to happen, maybe it was the fact that you saw leon wearing only a towel after his shower, practically making you drool.

but you lost it. you just lost it, for absolutely no reason at all.

“can you stop looking at me like that?” you say softly as you look over at him, your being patient, so patient at this point and it makes you wanna scream or cry. he’s digging for something in your shared dresser drawer at this point, minding his own business.

leon looks behind him, over his shoulder to where you sit on the bed. he raises a small brow, “i’m not even looking at you, baby. i’m getting clothes.” he says with a small hint of amusement in his voice.

“you know what i mean, leon.” you say in a annoyed tone as you shift on the bed, the many pillows for your back pain and a heating pad pressed up against it. you opted for a t-shirt of his and underwear, the only two things besides dresses that you could really stand these days.

he grabs his boxers and takes off his towel, you try to ignore the arousal that’s literally pooling uncomfortably in your underwear as you see it. your trying to stay annoyed, stay focused, but his dick is just right there. so far out of your reach but so close and you just want to pounce on him.

“i can’t stare at my beautiful wife now?” he says with a small notch in his brow, pulling his boxers up over his dick, making you disappointed and snap back into what was currently happening. you huff and rub your bump, shifting against the heating pad and pillows.

“no, you can.” you say with a small glare in his direction, “but if your not gonna do something about it, i’d rather you tell me then just…” you trail off when he crawls on the bed next to you, sitting beside you. “angel, you have something you wanna share with me?” he says in that low and intimate tone that gets your insides all bubbly.

you gnaw on your bottom lip in contemplation, “no. i don’t.” he chuckles lowly and moves even closer to you on the bed, putting his hand on your thigh and squeezing. “i hardly believe that, baby. no offense.” he says softly as he presses a kiss to your ear.

you were going to jump him if he didn’t stop this, he was teasing you. he had to be, it was ridiculous that he couldn’t even see how miserable this was making you. “can you just…?” you start and fail pathetically as you try to squirm into his touch more on your thigh.

“can i just what?” he says in a soft timbre into your ear, almost daring and pushing you to say it. to ask. you were beyond irritated and wound up now. everything hurt and your body felt hot. “can you please touch me?” you say softly, you sound whiney and desperate and it’s nothing like you. but a part of you really didn’t care anymore.

you hormonal, achy and moody beyond relief. you just wanted him to touch you, to fuck you even. it was getting annoying how much your body had craved him since you became pregnant.

he didn’t move his hand from your thigh, his breath still ghosting over your ear and the side of your face. “i am touching you, love.” he says with an arrogant smirk against your skin.

arrogant bastard. you thought to yourself, you were brazen in the moment. “it hurts, leon. just…please?” you practically whined in that moment, you didn’t like the teasing. not when your patience was already short enough as it was.

he pressed a tender kiss to the side of your head, “what hurts, baby?” he says softly as he rubs his hand up her thigh and over her bump, soothing tender circles over your body and the baby beneath.

you don’t even care anymore, the soothing feeling of his hand over your t-shirt was enough. your cheeks were red though and you guided his hand up to your swollen breasts beneath your (his) t-shirt that you wore.

“oh, honey.” he sighs softly in a contented whisper against your head, pressing a small kiss to your hairline. he doesn’t move his hand on one of your swollen breasts, just rests his hand there as if he’s just supporting it with his large hand over the fabric.

“leon…please, it hurts.” you hear yourself breathe out in a whimper, one of pain or of desire, you didn’t know. you didn’t care to know right now. “hold on, hold on.” he mumbled softly as he shifted next to you, getting closer to your side, he adjusted himself on the pillows next to you.

“can’t deny my pretty little wife. can i?” he says into your ear with a small nip as his hand squeezed and kneaded one of your swollen breasts. you couldn’t help the sound that came out of you, a mix of relief and desire that you didn’t know you could make.

he moves his lips to press against your neck, nipping and licking as he kneads your breasts, trying to make the pain subside as you moan. “feels s’good…” you mumble in between small noises.

“i know, i know. sorry, for teasing you all this time.” he mumbles into your neck, “gotta stop teasing you…” he mumbles again in between kisses as he presses one more kiss under your ear.

his hands working up your swollen and aching breasts, you could feel your panties practically dripping with release. you grab at his bicep, curling around the muscle there for balance. “please…” you whimper softly.

he moves his lips up to your ear, “what do you want? use your words, baby.” he nips at your earlobe and keeps kneading your breasts, alleviating some of the ache there.

you grip down on his bicep harder, your hormones from the pregnancy were going crazy at his touch. “anything…something, please.” you whine softly near his ear as you almost draw blood. you just needed a release and you weren’t going to get far with him kneading your breasts.

“how about i eat out that pretty pussy? hmm?” he practically purrs into your ear as one of his hands leads down from your breasts to beneath the covers. your soaked underwear beneath your rotund belly, he finds it. an amusing sound leaving his mouth at your ear, tracing the pads of his fingers over your wet slit of your underwear.

his words and his touches having a disastrous affect on your pregnant body, you felt like a match that he was striking with flame and then putting out. it was so much in the best way possible.

you just nod rapidly, emitting a small whine as you clutch his bare bicep harder. “okay, pretty girl.” he presses another kiss to your ear, smirking to himself. he traces your wet slit again, marveling at how soaked you were for him.

“practically drenching your underwear, this all for me?” he muses as he pulls back on the bed next to you, pushing the covers back from your body. your hand falling down to the sheets beneath you, “yes…” you manage to get out as he clicks his tongue. a growl almost rose from his mouth as he gets farther back on the bed, moving in between your knees.

he sees the wet patch that’s soaking your underwear, he knew you were hormonal from the pregnancy. but god, how much arousal could form just from you looking at him? it needed to be studied, but he couldn’t help but feel his ego and confidence inflate.

your bodies reaction to him would always be something he’d never get tired of. especially now when you were drenching your pretty panties.

“fuck, baby. missed this sweet pussy.” he rasps as he looks up at you with hooded blue eyes, his pupils dilated. you knew that look well enough to know that he was going to give you what you both wanted.

release.

you mewl, “please, leon. don’t wanna beg…” you try to reach down to yank his hands or his head closer but your pregnant belly stops you. he puts a hand on the inside of your thigh, “no begging required. i’m going to eat out my pretty pregnant wife. i’m hungry anyways.” he smirks devilishly as he massage the meat of your thigh.

he doesn’t waste anytime, your head hits the mountains of pillows behind you. your chest rising and falling fast beneath his t-shirt that your wearing. his hands come up to the waist band of your underwear and slowly pull them down over your hips and bent legs.

your bare pussy is on display now and you feel the cold air hit your most private parts, ones that he’s seen before but now…now that you were pregnant and carrying his child…things were different. you looked more delicious now, looked more like he could eat you out for days. eat you and fuck you until the baby came.

god help him.

he doesn’t waste anytime, none whatsoever. he’s going to give you what you want. he rubs his fingers through your arousal, spreading it everywhere and teasing you just a bit longer.

you whine, “leon, please…just stop. i want it.” he looks up at you from where he’s laying on the mattress in between your bent legs. “i know baby, just admiring how beautiful you are…everywhere.” he smirks to himself and presses a kiss to the hood of your clit.

you moan a little, he clicks his tongue. “so sensitive.” he muses, “good to know some things never change after pregnancy.” he whispers as he presses another kiss to your clit.

“fuck…leon…” you whine softly, clenching the sheets beneath you. your hormone fueled body making you out to be this whiny monster.

he just chuckles against the skin of your dripping pussy, “just sit back and relax, sweet girl. i’ve got you.” he says as he runs his hands up to the sides of your hips, holding you steady as he dips his head down.

he starts licking a long stripe up from your drenched opening to your clit, your head tilting back as you moan loudly. you never failed to amaze him, get him hard and all worked up. you both had that affect on each other, good to know it was still intact.

how had leon not done this yet? not touched you this way yet when you’d been pregnant? you were like putty in his hands right now.

he felt like an idiot.

a large one. 

he stuck his tongue into your soaked opening and licked, fucking you with his tongue as you clenched the sheets harder beneath you. “fuck, want…uhh, so fucking good!” you moan loudly, practically screaming.

he just keeps fucking you with his tongue, almost rutting his boxer clad erection into the mattress. he reached one hand down to rub his thumb over your clit, still fucking you with his tongue.

your back arches a little, as much as it can without you hurting yourself. a white knuckled grip on the mattress is all you have as he ravishes you, keeps his tongue and fingers working you into oblivion as you writhe and moan underneath him.

“leon! uhh…fuck…” you babble nonsense as you feel the coil start to build in your lower abdomen, you had never come this fast before. but the fact that you were pent up, more hormonal then usual and he was working you open with his skilled mouth and fingers…

you were fucked, figuratively and literally.

he took his tongue out of your opening moving the finger that was on your clit, down to your soaked opening. his fingers working you open now, sliding one in which causes you to release a long moan, his name rolling off of your tongue.

his mouth attaching itself to your clit and licking, sucking and swirling his tongue. he was smirking as he did it. knowing that he was gonna feel you come all over his fingers and face.

he could do this forever, keep you pregnant forever just so he could hear those pretty little sounds you made when you’d fall apart beneath him.

he kept moving his pointer finger in and out, swirling his tongue over your swollen clit as you moaned obscenely, thanking god and him and his mouth.

“just…yes! fuck! gonna cum!” you babble again, losing all rational thoughts as he continued to lick and rub and finger you. you felt helpless under his touch, but in the best way. the way that made you and the unborn baby inside of you feel safe and cherished, loved even.

he just kept it up, only breaking his licking at your clit to talk you through it, “good girl, pretty little wife gonna cum all over my fingers? huh?” he says with a raspy voice, his lips stained in a gloss of your arousal.

you moan softly in response and nod, your eyes fluttering open and shut, your pussy clenching around his fingers. pulling them out just to push another long inside of you and curl your fingers upwards until he found your magic spot.

you whine at that, smacking a hand down on the sheets underneath you. “there it is…” he muses in a low tone, “good girl, maybe if your really nice i’ll pump another baby into you tomorrow.” he says with a smirk.

you moan, “fuck…yes!” you yell out, the idea of him fucking you and promising to get you even more pregnant…it was making that band inside of you get closer to snapping.

“you’d like that wouldn’t you? filling you up with my big cock and pumping you full of my cum?” he teases as he keeps fucking you with his two fingers, the noise of your arousal would normally be a turn off but you were so close to release that you didn’t care anymore.

you moaned and nodded dumbly in response, his free hand sliding from your hip to rub over the swell of your belly. “pump another baby into you, fuck, you’d love that.” he says lowly.

“i-i would…fuck, want more babies…” you whine softly as you writhe more, some tears leaking out of your eyes. he almost growls at that, pumping his fingers harder inside of you and rubbing that sweet spot that makes you see stars.

he knew you were close, knew you were going to reach that point that made you all blissed out and needy. “cmon baby, come all over my fingers. know you can.” he encouraged with a kiss to your clit, his free hand still rubbing over your belly.

all it took was him talking more, working you up with his sweet words and his fingers hitting the mark over and over again inside of you. you moaned loudly, clenching around his fingers. your release coating all over his digits.

he didn’t say anything, just worked you through it until overstimulation set in, removing his fingers from you. he brought them both up and licked the release from his fingers.

you watched him with undivided attention, your eyes lazily opening and closing in the haze of your orgasm. he smiled softly and crawled from in between your legs to rest over you, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“don’t you ever think for one second that i don’t want to fuck you, taste you or do that. i love you and i love making you fall apart. you being pregnant…has nothing to do with me holding off.” he says in a reassurance, pressing another small kiss to your lips.

being mindful as he leaned over you not to disturb the bump of your belly. your eyes locked on his as he looked down at you, “i’ve just been stressed and on edge with prepping for the baby. it’s had absolutely nothing to do with you being pregnant.” he says softly, reaching a hand up and running it through the hair at the base of your skull.

“your so beautiful, so fucking beautiful. i know you don’t see it these days. but you are even hotter now that your carrying my baby, our baby.” he explains with a gentle smile, making some water prick into your eyes.

“so don’t think for one second that i find you unattractive or that i’m teasing you on purpose.” he says with another small peck to your lips, “you understand me?”

you nod slowly as you look up at him, blinking the small amount of water away from your eyes. you should’ve never doubted him, should’ve never thought that about yourself.

and he hated that, hated that he made you doubt yourself and your body for one second. you were so beautiful, you were his and he loved you. he had loved you long before you both spoke your vows in front of god and each other.

he loved you so much, as much as you loved him. so he rolled off from hovering on top to you, cuddling his body next to yours, letting himself wrap his strong arms around your pregnant body.

he wanted to hold you close to his heart, he always did inside. he always kept you there because that’s where you deserved to be. you were his wife and the mother of his (soon to be) child.

he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, pulling the covers back up over you and him, cuddling you close. his hand rubbing over your belly with the fabric of his own t-shirt covering it. “your so very beautiful, baby. i love you so much. even when you don’t see it.” he says against the side of your head, pressing another kiss there.

you melted into his arms, your eyes fluttering close in exhaustion and in content. you didn’t feel so insecure and anxious anymore. you knew that he had been off, but he was just as stressed as you. he had to be, you were going to be a mom and he was going to be a dad.

it was a lot of pressure.

but as long as you both had each other, you knew you guys could do it. the rings on your hands symbolizing the best and worst parts of you and him, the parts that you accepted and promised to love forever.

and with him, it would never be scary. not if you had a husband like leon, and he would love you just as much as the baby inside of you.

it was a part of both of you, that could never be unloved. not if either of you had anything to say about it.

an: hope you guys enjoy. i couldn’t deny a double upload this week, my bad lol. i love you guys so much and i hope you enjoyed. happy friday!! i’m gonna be opening my requests again soon. i wrote this when i was ovulating so no harsh judgement. please reblog and like, kisses. xx.

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[autumnywinter]

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

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

Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader

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

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

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

However...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You winced. "I'm sorry-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You know I love you, right?"

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

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

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

"I do! I-I do!"

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

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

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

So he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? With him being the team principal for Merc, it was expected that she would also support the team and she did. But, she was and still a tifosi at heart and everyone knows it. So when Carlos wins the Australian GP and Charles P2, she sang her heart out during the national anthem was being played. He could see how much she loved the team and he wouldn't want her to stop supporting it. Because he always knew, whatever happened she would stick by his side no matter what. Just something fluff and sweet. Thanks!! :)))

okay, this is short, but the bachelor fic is really long, but im trying to empty my inbox while writing it, so, a little short :)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

toto wolff x female!wife!tifosi!reader

“And um, while we’re on light hearted topics, moving on from Carlos’ miraculous recovery, i do just want to bring up Y/N Wolff, was at today’s race, obviously horrible race for Mercedes, and we really did think she would be quite upset by it, but um, she was later spotted in the Ferrari crowd.” Damon Hill said, trying to avoid getting trampled in the Australian paddock

“Yeah, it was a little odd, we did ask a couple of Mercedes mechanics that we ran into, and they all seemed to know what we were talking about and they all had these knowing smiles, and Shov even quoted Seb saying ‘everyone is a ferrari fan. Even if they say they are not, they are a ferrari fan’ so very odd things going on in the Mercedes garage.” Paul di Resta mentioned

“Let’s um, let’s cut to the footage so you know what we’re talking about.” Damon Hill pointed at the screen.

The Sky broadcast cut to a past shot from the podium. The shot was pretty simple, Y/N standing in her Mercedes shirt, standing out in the sea of red and orange shirts. The anthem and the Italian engineers made it difficult to hear, but her body language and the fact that she was mouthing the words to the Italian National Anthem, with her arm around Fred’s shoulder, swaying side to side.

The camera then panned to Toto, who had an adorable look on his face. It had obviously been a horrible weekend for Mercedes, but he had a grin on his face as he watched Y/N cheering for ferrari. Multiple mechanics were calling out his names as he gazed at his wife looking at the ferrari boys.

“Damn he’s whipped, i think that’s what all the kids are saying these days.” Paul di Resta said

“And speak of the man himself, hey Toto. Got time for a chat?” Damon Hill called out to the tall Austrian, as he walked past. Toto nodded and grabbed a microphone.

“Toto, we obviously saw your wife celebrating the ferrari 1-2, should we be concerned that she is leaving you to join Lewis at Ferrari?” Paul di Resta asked

“No, not at all, whatever happens, I have faith that my wife will stick by my side no matter what. I also don’t think she finds the guys with no hair attractive, so better luck next time Fred.” Toto shrugged before wandering off, probably to find his wife.

--

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