#tutor!reader

[novascharms]

the masterlist 

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe - reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track. ୨୧ chapter one ୨୧ chapter two ୨୧ chapter three ୨୧ chapter four ୨୧ chapter five ୨୧ chapter six ୨୧ chapter seven ୨୧ chapter eight  ୨୧ chapter nine ୨୧ chapter ten ୨୧ chapter eleven ୨୧ chapter twelve ୨୧ chapter thirteen ୨୧ chapter fourteen ୨୧ chapter fifteen ୨୧ chapter sixteen ୨୧ chapter seventeen ୨୧ chapter eighteen ୨୧ chapter nineteen ୨୧ chapter twenty ୨୧ the epilogue chapter one ୨୧  chapter two ୨୧  chapter three ୨୧  chapter four ୨୧ chapter five ୨୧ 

the 18+ folder ୨୧ school work is taking you out and rafe helps you destress. ୨୧ you get jealous and rafe shows you you don’t need to be. ୨୧ you and rafe need to study the next algebra chapter but he has different plans.

visuals

[blank-potato]

Make It Up To Me

Pairing: Lucien Belmont x Reader

Summary:

He gave you a look as if contemplating his next move. “Fine. Then let me make it up to you.”You crossed your arms, waiting, whatever he had to say had to be good.“You’ve been wound too tight,” he continued, his voice lighter now, almost teasing. “And I think you need to have a good time.”You raised a sceptical brow. “And you think you’re the person to fix that?”“I know I am.” His smirk deepened. “So, what do you say? Let me give you one night where you forget about all the stress. No responsibilities. No pressure. Just… fun.”Or You’re Lucien’s tutor and he has pissed you off for the last time but he wants to make things right with you.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, implied smut, Lucien pushing your buttons, teasing, first date, first kiss, carnival/theme park date, tutor!reader, enemies to lovers

WC: 3.4k

A/N: I just want to write something short and fluffy about Lucien with a hint of steaminess at the end

✎✎✎

“I’m supposed to be helping you study.”

“And yet all I want to study is you,” Lucien replies with his signature smile.

Had you not been used to it, maybe you would’ve fallen for it but this was pretty much how all your tutoring sessions would go. He’d show up 20 minutes late (if you were lucky) with bedhead and a lopsided grin, smelling faintly of cologne and another girl’s perfume, then flirt with you as you attempted to tutor him.

“Did you even listen to what I just said?”

"This is hopeless,” you let out a sigh, frustration tightening your chest as the stress of school weighed heavy on your shoulders. Assignment after assignment piled up like an avalanche, and now this narcissistic rat was wasting your time with their incessant chatter. Your patience was a frayed wire, and it was only a matter of time before it snapped.

“You selfish asshole.”

“What?” His eyebrows rose as his interest was piqued. He had never seen you like this. He had been pushing your buttons for weeks, yet somehow, you always managed to keep your cool. He took note of the way your hands tightened around your pencil whenever he said something inappropriate and the sharp retorts that hovered on the edge of your tongue, just begging to come out but you always swallowed them down.

Until now, that is.

Now he was looking at you, an untethered mountain of rage that had been building, layer by layer until it finally cracked.

“I prepare lesson plans and notes and flashcards and spend hours reviewing,” you snapped, voice trembling with fury, “because some of us actually want to be here!”

You let out a sharp breath, trying (but failing) to rein in your frustration. Heads around the library had already started to turn toward the commotion, but you were too blinded by the infuriating, insufferable arrogance that was Lucien Belmont to care.

His smug expression, the lazy way he leaned back in his chair as if none of this mattered, only fuelled the fire in your chest. He was watching you now, amusement flickering in his eyes as if your outburst was nothing more than an entertaining spectacle.

“Are you done?” he asked, lips twitching at the corners, “I still have another hour of your time, you know?”

You toss the notes you tirelessly made onto the desk with a loud thud, highlighters rattling against the surface. He flinches, eyes widening slightly.

“Here. Spend your hour choking on these.”

Turning on your heel, you stormed away, the adrenaline still pumping through you like a raging current. Your hands were trembling with the sheer force of everything you had held back for weeks. You could still feel Lucien’s eyes on you, burning with something unreadable. Maybe surprise. Maybe amusement. Maybe something else entirely.

But you didn’t care. Not anymore.

✎✎✎

A knock on your door later that night pulled you away from your book. You had just settled in, freshly showered, wrapped in your softest hoodie, and snuggled up in your covers. It was your time to relax and the thought of being interrupted had your annoyance already flaring. You sighed, setting your book aside and trudged to the door, ready to snap at whoever dared to disturb your peace.

But when you swung it open, your irritation sharpened into something colder. There he was, the bane of your existence and the object of your frustration, Lucien Belmont.

“I’m busy,” you say flatly.

His gaze flickered over you, and then he smirked. “Nice face mask.”

You huffed, moving to slam the door in his face, but he’s faster. His foot wedged into the doorway, keeping it open.

“Harsh,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “I wanted to apologise.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Lucien Belmont apologising?”

He exhaled, rolling his eyes. “I’m not above it, okay? I am sorry. I pushed you too far, but—”

“No great apology has a but.”

He gave you a look as if contemplating his next move.“Fine. Then let me make it up to you.”

You crossed your arms, waiting, whatever he had to say had to be good.

“You’ve been wound too tight,” he continued, his voice lighter now, almost teasing. “And I think you need to have a good time.”

You raised a sceptical brow. “And you think you’re the person to fix that?”

“I know I am.” His smirk deepened. “So, what do you say? Let me give you one night where you forget about all the stress. No responsibilities. No pressure. Just… fun.”

Your fingers tightened around the doorknob. You shouldn’t even entertain the idea. But the way he was looking at you made you hesitate.

And that hesitation? That’s all he needed.

“Let me undo the stress I caused.”

✎✎✎

You met him outside, shifting your weight awkwardly as he approaches. You don’t usually dress up, your style was more casual and comfortable. But tonight was different and Lucien took notice. His gaze flickered over you for the second time that night and lingered just a second longer than usual. “Look at you. Got all cute for me?”

You rolled your eyes, but your pulse stuttered. “Shut up.”

His smirk widened. “So, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

You gulped down the lump in your throat, trying to maintain an air of confidence, but it was harder than you expected. Your palms felt slightly clammy and you hoped he didn’t notice the way you kept adjusting your sleeves as if would somehow steady your nerves.

As the car glided down the quiet roads, streetlights casting long shadows through the windshield, a silence settled between you, not uncomfortable just uncommon. You were so used to him flirting with you all the time that this silence had you a little on edge.

After a few minutes, you leaned back in your seat, raising an eyebrow. “Just how far away is this party?”

He glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “Party?”

Your heart started to race, if it wasn’t a party then just where was he taking you?

Before you can start to spiral he parked his car and the sound of music and excited screams reached your ears.

He helped you out of the car and you look around in surprise. This was not the last place you expected to end up but definitely not the first.

“A carnival?”

You blinked as you took in the scene before you. The beautiful flashing lights, the distant laughter of kids, the scent of fried dough and caramel in the air.

“You’re not a fan?” he asked, glancing at you, trying to gauge your reaction.

“No, it’s… I just wasn’t expecting it.” Your voice was softer now, almost hesitant as if still expecting some sort of trick.

“You don’t seem like the party type, so I thought I’d take you here instead.”

“Well… good choice.”

He offered you his hand and you scoffed.

“I’m not holding your hand,” You say as if it couldn’t be more obvious.

“Oh come on, you’re acting like I’m the devil.”

“Well…”

“Give me a chance,” he said gently taking your hand in his and leading you to the ticket booth. You grumbled and a frown was etched on your face as he buys a buttload of tickets for the both of you. You refused to allow him to win you over, it just wasn’t happening.

“How am I supposed to make it up to you if you won’t indulge me just a little?” Lucien asked, pouting dramatically.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Fine. Start by buying me something.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Bossy. I like it.”

You shot him a stern look and he raised his free hand in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop flirting… for now.”

As you continued walking, your eyes caught on something, a cotton candy stall. Your face lit up before you can stop yourself. Lucien notices immediately and without a word, he steps up to the vendor and hands over a bill. Moments later, he was holding out a fluffy pink cloud to you.

“For you,” he says, grinning.

And maybe it was the cotton candy. Or maybe it was the way he was looking at you. If anyone asked, you definitely would’ve said it was the cotton candy. But for a moment, it felt like something dangerously close to nice.

You munched away at the cotton candy, delighting in how it melts against your tongue. You were lost in your own world and Lucien loved it. Sure he had been intentionally pushing your buttons for months but it wasn’t without reason. He delighted in all your little reactions especially when you think no one is watching. Your eyes landed on the ring toss stall next and before you even think twice, you grabbed Lucien’s wrist and dragged him over with you.

“Go on, pay the man,” you commented as you nudged Lucien, playfully stretching out your arms like you were preparing for the game of your life. He smirked, handing the attendant a ticket, then turned to you and his eyes were sharp, like you’re a puzzle he was trying to figure out.

“You never fail to surprise me,” Lucien said, tilting his head to the side.

“You’ll come to find that I’m not just smart,” you reply confidently as you pick up a ring. “I also happen to be very good at carnival games.”

Lucien watched, amused, as you effortlessly landed ring after ring onto the bottles, racking up an impressive streak.

“Well done,” the attendant said, nodding in approval. “Which one do you want?”

Your eyes scanned the prizes until you spotted the perfect one. It was a giant bunny with a mischievous face like it’s hiding a secret. Definitely Lucien Belmont’s twin.

“That one,” you said, pointing.

Lucien raised an eyebrow at you as the bunny was passed into your waiting arms and you proceeded to struggle to hold it.

“You’re one of a kind, aren’t you?” he said, a mix of admiration and disbelief in his voice.

“Obviously,” you replied and Lucien chuckled.

“Why’d you pick this one?”

You glance at him, then back at the bunny. “It reminds me of you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“He looks like a little shit. In fact, I’m going to call him Lucien after you.”

And the look on Lucien’s face is absolutely delicious, you’d eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner if you could. It’s that very look that fuels you to go on a generational run of carnival game wins, stacking up prizes like a champion.

“Hold Lucien Jr. for me?” you said smugly, as you attempt to sort your myriad of prizes. Lucien made a face and you’d describe it as part amusement, part offense.

“What? Do you prefer Lucien the Second?” you teased, shoving the plush bunny into his arms before he could protest. He huffed but held the stuffed animal anyway, muttering, “This is slander.”

✎✎✎

You guys walked and walked until you arrived at the shooting gallery stall and Lucien’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. You knew it was trouble whenever he made a face like that.

“I’m actually quite good at this one,” he said, rolling up his sleeves.

“Is that so?” You said with a hint of disbelief, you figured his ego had been hurt by you racking up prizes like it was nobody’s business and were more than happy to see him fail. Perhaps thinking it would serve him right for all the stuff he had put you through in just one semester.

“I bet you I can hit all the targets in one try.”

“You’re on. What are we wagering?” you replied, your smile confident, almost bordering on cocky from the way you’re holding yourself, arms crossed, weight shifted just slightly in challenge.

“A kiss.”

“Lucien—” you started, narrowing your eyes.

He leaned in just a fraction, his smirk downright sinful. “C’mon, indulge me.”

Against your better judgment, you did. You thought the chances of him winning were slim, and carnival games were almost always rigged—

Before you can finish your thought he lifts the rifle, taking aim and shooting each target with precision, the sound of the pellets hitting their mark ringing through the air. You bit your lip, watching him with newfound appreciation.

It was kind of… sexy.

When he won, he turned to you, smug as ever and handed you a teddy bear. It was smaller than Lucien Jr. but still adorable.

You took it, feigning nonchalance. “Trying to impress me?”

“Is it working?”

You rolled your eyes but the warmth creeping up your neck screamed yes. You stormed off wordlessly and he followed after you like a puppy on a leash.

“When do I get my kiss?” he drawls, falling into step beside you.

“Later,” you said, keeping your gaze ahead. “Technically, we never agreed it had to happen immediately.”

He chuckled, lowly and his next words sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

“Alright, princess. I’ll wait.”

✎✎✎

After an evening of flitting from stall to stall you had to admit that you had a good time tonight. It wasn’t often that you’d give yourself a break so all of this was a welcome surprise even if it did mean that you were spending your whole night with Lucien Belmont. But then again he had proven to be full of surprises too.

He seemed different tonight and his usual rich frat boy shenanigans were nowhere to be found and he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you and not just getting in your pants.

You had even seen him go over to help a crying child find their parent, his was voice gentle, and his usual cocky expression had softened. Kind, patient, respectful and good with kids?

Who was this and what had they done with Lucien Belmont?

After finding the missing child’s parent, you ended up in front of the Ferris Wheel. Lucien insisted you go on, and like a moth drawn to a flame, you gave in.

Somewhere along the way, he had successfully chipped away at your defences, his usual arrogance softened into something almost… endearing. Being mad at him in the library felt like a distant memory, blurred by the warmth of the night.

Your eyes drifted to his lips and damn did they look soft, tempting. The thought lingered in your mind, warm and dangerous, as the two of you stepped into the Ferris wheel car.

“Perfect ending to a perfect night, no?” Lucien said, almost reverently, as he gazed out at the view. The lights stretched endlessly below, a sea of colour contrasting against the dark sky.

You couldn’t help but agree as you took in the scene, watching as the crowd below shrunk, the laughter and chatter fading into the wind. Just moments ago, you and Lucien had been running from stall to stall, caught up in playful jokes and stolen glances. Now, high above it all, the world feels quieter, like it was just the two of you.

“Yeah, you actually did show me a good time.”

He moved closer to you, the warmth of his body seeping into the small space between you. The tension in the air was thick, crackling like a storm on the horizon but you didn’t want to pull away. Instead, you found yourself leaning into it, drawn in like a ship sailing straight into the fog, eager to discover what lay beyond.

And you had a feeling it was something sweet.

Your eyes fell back on his lips yet again and this time Lucien notices. His lips form a little smile and it’s the only thing you can see, like your mind has placed a magnifying glass over that one detail, blocking out everything else.

“Can I redeem my kiss now?” he asked, his voice lower, teasing.

“I…” Your breath caught in your throat. “I suppose so. I keep my word.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you waited for his lips to touch yours, anticipation thrumming in your veins. But he took his time, keeping you on the edge, drawing out the moment until your heart was drumming wildly against your ribs like a wild bird battering against its cage, aching to get out.

His hand caressed your cheek, his fingers painted a picture on your skin and your body had become so sensitive to each and every touch; so acutely aware of how close he was to you.

You felt him approach you but at the last second before your lips touched, he dipped out of the way pushing aside the collar of your shirt to reveal your neck. He laid soft kiss after kiss along the curve of your neck, loving the way you gulped for more air. He kept up his efforts his kisses landing on a particularly sensitive spot below your jawline. By this point, you had completely melted, and your body turned to jelly under his touch. Your fingers gripped at the fabric of your jeans, desperate for something to ground you but there’s no use. Lucien had you right where he wants you.

He pulled back and a heat rose in your chest. You found yourself wanting to pull him back, to demand more. You wouldn’t let him leave you like this.

But before you could act on it, he leaned back in, giving you something just as good. His hands found your waist, tugging you closer until there was nothing left between you.

The first brush of his lips against yours was slow as if he was testing you. Then, the kiss deepened, his tongue pushing past your lips, stealing the very breath from your lungs. A shiver ran down your spine and whatever little resolve you had left crumbled as you let yourself fall completely into him.

Then, yet again, he pulled away and the Ferris wheel car began to descend. Fireworks burst in the distance, illuminating the night sky in brilliant flashes of gold and red. But all you can focus on is him, the warmth of his breath still lingering against your lips.

You could tell he didn’t want to stop either, his eyes were dark with the same level of yearning that was eating you alive.

“You really are something special…” he said, his gaze fixed on you and yours on him as the colour of each firework reflected in his eyes.

You didn’t respond, still dazed, still lost in the feeling of him. Your lips were tingling, your breath unsteady and the world felt just a little off-kilter. The man responsible laughed at your expression but he felt the same, he was just better at hiding it.

You arrived back at your dorm, your heart still pounding, your skin still buzzing with the ghost of his touch. The entire ride home had been torture, your body was tense, your mind restless. You couldn’t bear it, being so close to him and not being able to fix the problem he had started. As you fumbled for your keys, his voice broke through the charged silence.

“Good night?” he asked, his tone laced with amusement as if he already knew the answer.

“Surprisingly yes… You did undo the stress you caused me.”

You finally managed to get your door open, your hands unsteady as you pushed it ajar. Lucien waited in the doorway like a vampire lingering at the threshold, waiting to be invited in.

You knew better. You really didn’t need this kind of trouble in your life. But when he was standing there, looking like sin itself, his hair slightly tousled, lips still swollen from the kisses he stole. How could you not be tempted? After all, he had spent the night charming you, teasing you, and kissing you like you’d never been kissed before. How could you possibly resist now?

So, pushing aside your better judgment, you stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.

Lucien didn’t hesitate. He was more than happy to oblige, stepping past you as if he belonged there all along. The door clicked shut behind you, sealing you both in.

Your eyes flicked back to him and of course, he’s smirking. With easy confidence, he tosses Lucien Jr. onto your chair before turning back to you, his gaze with anticipation.

“Lucien, I hope you're ready to put in the work tonight.”

“I told you I’d make it up to you and I still plan to,” his grin then widened as he looked you up and down. “And I’ll have you know I’m a bit of a masochist.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you crossed your arms. “Of course you are.”

He stepped closer as he studied you like he was dying to know what you’d do next.

“So?” he says lowly. “Where do you want me?”

Masterlist

[craftydreamvoid]

being a nerdy tutor for college!art.

he didn't even know you existed until his professor mentioned your name. he goes to the library at the designated meet up spot and his eyes fall on you. he thinks you look cute and introduces himself, big smile on his face. he can't help but think about how adorable your glasses look on you, despite being oversized. how you fidget with you hands when you explain something to him. how you have a habit of tapping your pen against the book when reading out loud to him. how comfy you look in your cute cotton jumper with little flowers embroidered on it. how kind you are to help out some random classmate that you didn't even know.

but you did know. you knew all too well. you knew about his gorgeous blonde locks and his muscular thighs. his cheeky smile and little groans. that look he pulls when he's trying his hardest to concentrate in class. or the look in his eye when he's jealous of a skilled opponent. you know he's had a few girlfriends and flings. you know their names and what classes they take.

you knew art donaldson far too well... and it consumed you.

[mrsjellymunson]

THANK YOU to everyone who voted and otherwise interacted with my recent WIP poll. Thanks to you guys I feel like I have a direction now! 🙏🙏💖💖

I had a suspicion this one might come out on top, but what I didn’t anticipate was the love I received for all the others - I’m so thrilled that you remember them, and/or seem to be as excited about them as I am 💖 I promise to get cracking on them soon! 😍✍️📝

[cute-sucker]

No but what do you think younger Rafe is like?? I’m talking like 12 year old Rafe. Do you think he be one of those obnoxious elementary school boys that think they are so cool? Do you think he was a good student or not. I mean he graduated eventually but idk if he would struggle with school or not. Or if he got along well with his sisters at one point? I wanna hear your opinion on this!!

so this ask marinating in my box because i was going to write something long about it but i'm stupid?? so anyways (let me know if y'all want more about this au)

1.) rafe is so obnoxious when he was younger, always up tree tops, diving into the pool, and yelling about how he was the king of the forest. he was always the king of something with his loud voice

2.) he definitely thinks he's so cool, and he hates the way you disregard him with your pretty pink princess dress, and little tiara. you glare at him from distances, and tell him that you'll turn him into a frog

3.) as the two of you grow up, you become more academically focused, not paying attention to the lean rafe who towers over you when you check out books. he comes into the library to make fun of you, and you roll your eyes at him, perfect manicured hands on your math books, and emily bronte

4.) he hates it all, but enjoys the look on your face when you get focused. he hates to admit it but he struggles at school, looking at the pages of the words until they start to move. it gives him a big headache, so who cares about school? but he sees you hanging around the academically smart boys, the ones that know all the answers and decides to crack open a book.

5.) quickly enough when he gives it a try he doesn't figure it out, so instead he asks you to tutor him. you look surprised, looking up at him with his letterman jacket and agree. he looks amused at the way you flush when he asks. maybe he has some sort of effect on you.

6.) the tutoring lessons work so well, and with your soothing gentle voice, and soft hands to guide him the way. suddenly he sees the way you see everything, as if you were the key to it all.

7.) he gets along with his siblings, especially wheezie who's old enough to get teased by him. he's mean to her sometimes, but there is some sort of softness with the two of them, the black sheep of the family. one thing that i feel would happen between them is wheezie forgetting to make a science project, and wobbles over to rafe.

8.) within 1 hour rafe has made a full display for her, his face orange with sticky fingers, hair ablaze. he has a proud dad smile on his face, sneaking into the science exhibition to just look at his sister. wheezie is laughing too, looking up at her big brother with happy eyes.

9.) it all goes downhill when he tries to make a pass at you in tutoring, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. he pulls away thinking that it'll be fine, but you had a suprised expression on your face, "what was that for?" and he smirks, "what do you think?"

10.) you run out after 10 minutes of that encounter, and rafe stands on the sidewalk next to tanyhill watching you pedal away.

he'd just lost the best thing in his life.

[rafesangelita]

♡ frat!rafe loves to turn you into a mess by pushing down on your tummy while he’s fingering you

warnings: fingering, squirting, crying, dirty talk, overstimulation, pussy slapping, finger sucking

a/n: i’m not sure if the linked ask was sent in for my follower celebration but i just went ahead and included it <3

you blinked up at the soft pink ceiling of your bedroom, your vision growing fuzzy as tears brimmed your eyes. rafe had you lying back against your plush pillows, your legs spread open as he forced your thighs apart with a grunt. running his digits between your slick folds, rafe watched with a teasing smile as you squirmed underneath his touch. “you’re so fucking wet already, just look at his this,” your cheeks burned when rafe brought his hand up and showed you his glistening fingers, “all sticky and messy just for me, hmm?” you couldn’t help but whine, your stomach erupting in a fit of butterflies as he reached down between your legs once again.

watching you lose yourself from his fingers alone was something rafe took great pride in, he couldn’t help but do this to you every chance he could get. thrusting two fingers inside your needy pussy, you gasped, your back arching off of your comforter as rafe’s palm grounded into your poor clit. “oh!” you cried out, his arm moving with vigor as he fucked you knuckles deep. rafe’s jaw clenched as he kept his eyes trained on your glossy cunt, your juices spewing out from your sopping hole. “shitttt—” he marveled, his cock growing hard in his boxers, “do you hear that? do you hear how fucking soaked you are?”

digging your nails into the white lace of your stockings, you shuddered, your body jolting when rafe ran the tips of his fingers over your sensitive bud. “g-gentlegentlegentle!” you squealed, your chest rising and falling as he did the exact opposite. giving your clit a soft pinch, you screamed when he landed multiple slaps to your sticky folds, your thighs instinctively shutting around his hand. you couldn’t speak, your breaths coming out in shaky huffs as rafe rubbed you into a mind numbing orgasm. “please—” you heaved, your eyes shutting tightly, “rafe!”

forcing your thighs open, rafe pressed down on your lower tummy, the pressure forcing a pained shriek to fall from your lips. digging your heels into your sheets, your hips bucked as he added a third digit, his fingers practically hooking you onto his hand as he thumbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. you took ahold of his wrist, your body wracking with the pure unadulterated pleasure coursing through your nerves. “wait!” you gasped, feeling an unfamilar pressure building up in your core, “i think i’m—” you didn’t get to finish your sentence before a stream of wetness flowed out from your cunt, a broken sob ripping itself from your chest as rafe cursed at the sight.

you hid your face in embarrassment, your bottom lip trembling as overstimulation began to set in. “no more, ray—” you hiccuped, “s’too much..” for the first time tonight, he gave into your request, a hiss leaving your lips as he finally slid his fingers out of you. curling in on yourself, you shook and trembled as rafe moved your hands away from your face, his digits prodding at your swollen lips. “suck them.” blinking rapidly, you could barely hear him over the beating thrum of your heart, your lips parting as you welcomed his glistening digits into your mouth.

jaw falling slack, rafe watched as you batted your eyelashes up at him, your tongue swirling around his fingers as he took himself out of his boxers. “mmm, you did so good,” he praised, “now do what you’re doing right now to my cock.”

thank you nonnie for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[jaeyuniversal]

nonsense - s.jy

pairing: loser shy tutor!sim jaeyun x outgoing tutee fem!reader

synopsis: you're loud, confident, and a little too good at making shy boys squirm. your only issue is you’ve always hated physics—until you meet your painfully shy tutor, jake sim. he’s awkward, brilliant, and blushes every time you call him cute. so naturally, you flirt. hard. at first, he stammers and short-circuits, but as study sessions stack up, jake starts to change. maybe it’s the way you lean a little too close or how he starts to flirt back (badly, but adorably).

featuring: jake sim of enhypen n maki from &team!!

genre: college au fluff!!!

warnings: jake has his first kiss, making-out?? kind of. a bit of jealousy, jake is just a super cute loser. lowercase intended ◡̈

playlist: nonsense by sabrina carpenter & soft spot by keshi

wc: 2.411k

a/n: i fear i will ride the loser jake wave forever! i love nerdy men <3 btw this is not proofread...

you’ve always hated physics.

not because you didn’t get it — okay, maybe a little because of that — but mostly because it was boring. theories and forces and laws. rinse and repeat. you weren’t failing physics. not exactly.

you were, however, spending an uncomfortable amount of time squinting at your textbook wondering how the hell you’d gone from memorizing song lyrics in under a minute to barely remembering newton’s third law. you told yourself it wasn’t that bad. then your lab partner dropped out, and your professor kindly suggested that you “seek out support.”

support came in the form of jake sim.

quiet. polite. a little too handsome for his own good. glasses-wearing, formula-spouting jake, with a habit of ducking his head when people talked too loudly. you’d seen him around campus before — usually alone, sometimes reading while walking (impressive), always in a hoodie two sizes too big, and baggy jeans that he almost steps on. 

you’d think he was popular, but those thick framed glasses always resting on his perfect nose made you think otherwise. 

your meet-cute wasn’t the typical coffee-spill-and-eye-contact thing. it happened last semester, during an elective you were both in: intro to astronomy. you’d been running late one day, flustered and frantic, only one seat left in the lecture hall. next to him. you took it.

he didn’t even glance up.

not until halfway through the class, when you leaned over and whispered, “sorry if i’m invading your orbit.”

he looked at you like he didn’t get the joke. (he didn’t.)

but later that day, you got an anonymous compliment on the university confessions page. “to the girl who sat next to me in astronomy and said something about orbits… you kind of wrecked mine.”

you knew it was him. and you never forgot.

───

“you don’t have to hover,” jake mumbled, eyes focused on the problem set in front of him.

“i’m not hovering. i’m observing… like a particle. you know, in motion.”

“that’s not… how particles work.”

you smiled to yourself. “i was hoping you'd say that.”

he flushed immediately. jake didn’t handle flirting well. hell, he had never even felt the touch of a woman, nevertheless flirted with one. 

you’d learned this by session two. if you got too close, he got tongue tied. if you complimented him, he’d practically glitch. it was fascinating. like a physics experiment, but cuter.

“what happens when you apply an external force to a closed system?” you asked, tapping your pencil.

he looked up slowly, suspicious. “depends on the force.”

you leaned in, gaze playful. “what if it’s me?”

he froze.

“y/n,” he said quietly, “you’re not even trying to learn right now.”

“that’s where you’re wrong, mr. sim.” you leaned back in your chair, spinning your pencil between your fingers. “i’ve been learning a lot.”

he narrowed his eyes, skeptical but intrigued. “like what?”

you met his gaze, serious now. “like how you pretend you didn’t notice me in astronomy last semester. even though you did.”

jake stiffened. his pen slipped from his fingers and rolled across the table.

“i—i didn’t—how did you—”

“i recognized your handwriting,” you said softly. “from the confession post.”

his face went scarlet.

you tilted your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “you called me orbit girl.”

jake looked like he wanted to disappear into the earth’s mantle. “i didn’t think you saw that.”

“i did. i screenshotted it.” you shrugged casually, then added, “still have it.”

he looked like you’d just told him you’d been keeping a shrine in your closet. but beneath the panic, something else flickered — hope, maybe?

“…why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

and there it was. the plot twist.

you dropped your eyes to your notebook, fingers idly brushing a corner.

“i was going to,” you said. “but you never talked to me again. i figured you weren’t interested.”

jake looked stunned. like he’d just missed the punchline to his own joke.

“no! i mean– um…i wasn’t not interested,” he said quickly. “i just didn’t think someone like you would ever…”

“what?” you said, raising a brow. “flirt with their physics tutor?”

jake swallowed hard. “like me back.”

there was a beat of silence. you reached across the table, nudging his pen back toward him.

“you’re cute when you’re nervous, jake” he blushed and wrapped up the tutoring session, brain too flustered to continue talking about his second favorite subject (you’re his favorite). 

───

you asked around for jake’s number which proved to be very difficult. 

no one had it.

so, you did the only thing you could think of. you went to every cafe within a 15 mile radius of your campus, hoping to find the shy boy.

your mission to find him ended up taking longer than anticipated, misjudging how many cafe’s surrounded decelis. you’ve been to 23 and counting, not once finding the fluffy haired boy with glasses way too big for his adorable face. 

as you walk into the twenty-fourth cafe, you think you see him. striped shirt, slightly messy brown hair, around 5’9ish. you walk up to him, tapping on his shoulder when someone behind you calls your name.

“y/n?”

you whip your head around to be met with those big, dark hazel eyes you adored so much.

his plump, heart-shaped lips were wrapped around the straw of his green grape ade, softly biting the plastic. his head was strewn to the side, resembling a golden retriever. 

“i found you!” you happily cheered as you made your way to the little table he was at. 

“f-found me? were you… looking? for me?” he stuttered which made you giggle. 

you fondly smiled at him, “yeah. i was.”

after you ordered an iced mocha, you guys sat in a comfortable silence until you spoke. 

“so,” you said, stirring whipped cream into your drink, “what’s a physics genius like you doing tutoring me when you could be dating someone who understands quantum mechanics?”

jake almost spat out his coffee.

you smiled sweetly. “kidding. kind of.”

“i—i don’t think I’m a genius,” he mumbled. “and I’m not — uh — dating anyone.”

“oh, i know,” you said casually, resting your chin on your hand. “campus gossip moves fast.”

jake’s eyes widened. “wait — what do you mean? what gossip? about me?”

you laughed. “relax, jake. you’re just a bit of a mystery. tall, soft spoken, brainy, never goes to parties. people notice.”

he stared at you like you’d told him he was famous.

you sipped your drink and shrugged. “i noticed.”

the cup trembled in his hand.

“…thanks?” he said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

you leaned forward. “you say that like you don’t believe me.”

jake’s mouth opened, then closed again.

he was still trying to respond when the barista called out your name, signaling your pastries were ready. you winked at him on the way up and when you turned back, he was still watching you, straw halfway to his mouth, like he couldn’t believe any of this was real. 

───

you had your feet up on the seat across from you, swinging gently as you skimmed your notes. jake sat across from you, hoodie sleeves shoved up to his elbows, manspreading with his textbook open on his lap.

you knew what you were doing when you stretched, your shirt riding up slightly as you leaned across the table to reach a pencil. you knew jake saw. his eyes darted down and back up so fast it was like a reflex.

“everything okay?” you asked sweetly.

“fine!” he said, voice three octaves too high. “great. normal. yup.”

you laughed, tossing your pen down. “you know, if we were measuring awkward tension in this room, we’d have to switch to the richter scale.”

jake groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “why are you like this?”

“because it’s fun watching you short-circuit.”

he peeked at you through his fingers, a lopsided grin starting to form. “you’re evil.”

“i prefer charming.’”

there was a beat of silence. then, softly—

“you are.”

your smile faltered. just for a second. “what?”

jake met your eyes, cheeks still flushed but voice steady. “charming.”

you blinked. it was the first time he’d said something like that without tripping over his own tongue.

“…jake sim,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “are you flirting with me?”

he shrugged — shrugged — with fake nonchalance. “maybe.”

you stared at him.

he stared back.

and then — his pencil rolled off the table and he smacked his head on the edge trying to catch it.

“still me,” he groaned, face down on the table. “still a loser.”

you couldn’t help it. you laughed so hard you nearly fell out of your chair. he was cute and adorably clumsy. exactly. your type. 

───

the next session, you came in with your usual confidence. playful comments. flirty glances.

but jake didn’t fold this time. (immediately).

in fact, when you were about to lean over to grab his calculator, he reached past you and did it first. smooth. like he was testing you.

“looking for this?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “who are you and what have you done with jake?”

he smiled — cocky, but still nervous. “maybe i’m learning.”

you tilted your head. “is this some physics thing? like, building resistance?”

“more like acceleration,” he said softly. “you keep pushing. i’m picking up speed.”

you stared at him.

he immediately panicked. “i mean — not in a creepy way — i just meant—”

you cut him off with a smirk. “careful, jake. you flirt like you solve equations — painfully accurate.”

he blushed again, but this time, he didn’t back away. instead, he looked at you for a long moment, then leaned in a little, just enough to make your breath catch.

“you said once that you noticed me before,” he murmured.

“yeah,” you said slowly.

he smiled, shy and genuine. “i think i’ve been noticing you for a lot longer.”

you forgot how to breathe for a second.

and then he bumped your knee under the table, awkward as ever. “anyway, we should… probably go over magnetic fields now.”

you grinned, heart racing. “god, you’re such a loser.”

“your loser,” he said quietly.

and somehow, that was the smoothest line of all.

───

the tutoring session was going fine.

that is, until maki showed up.

you were in the library lounge, halfway through a problem on thermodynamics, when a voice interrupted.

“y/n?”

you looked up. riki maus (known as maki). same year, tall, charming, objectively hot in that annoying way that made girls forgive him for talking through labs.

“hey,” you said, blinking. “didn’t know you were on this floor.”

jake went completely still next to you, pen frozen mid-equation.

maki barely glanced at him. “i was just heading out, but i had to say hi. you doing okay with physics? i tutor sometimes too, you know.”

jake’s grip on his pen tightened.

“oh?” you asked, amused. “you tutor now?”

maki shrugged. “not officially. but i could make time. for you.”

you opened your mouth, ready to tease him back, but jake’s voice cut in first.

“she already has a tutor.”

maki blinked, like he’d just noticed him. “right. sim, yeah? you’re in physics lab.”

“yeah,” jake said, still quiet, but there was an edge now. “i’ve got it covered.”

you turned to jake, brows lifting slightly. was he… tense?

maki grinned. “no offense, man, but i’ve heard tutoring y/n is more like surviving her. you sure you can handle it?”

jake stood.

you blinked. jake stood.

he was taller than you remembered. towering over maki, still in his soft hoodie and baggy jeans, but standing like something had clicked. like a switch had flipped.

“i can handle her,” he said, voice even. “better than anyone else.”

maki raised his hands. “okay. chill, bro.”

he gave you one last glance and walked off.

you looked up at jake. he was still standing, chest rising and falling like he was trying to keep it together.

“jake?”

his eyes met yours. there was something in them you hadn’t seen before. something fierce.

“do you like him?” he asked.

you frowned. “maki? god, no.”

he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath. stepped closer.

“because i don’t like seeing guys like that flirt with you.”

you tilted your head, heart starting to pick up. “jealousy doesn’t suit you, sim.”

“i know,” he said quietly. “but you do.”

and then he kissed you.

you didn’t expect it. not from him. not like this.

not with his hand cradling your cheek so gently it made your heart ache, not with the way his lips pressed to yours like he’d been waiting for this moment for weeks — months — forever.

your breath caught. he was warm. steady. his lips moved with surprising confidence, slow at first, then deeper, more certain as you kissed him back.

his other hand found your waist, pulled you in, grounded you. like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

your fingers curled in his hoodie, body leaning into his. he tilted his head just slightly and kissed you like a man who had solved the formula for gravity and decided to fall anyway.

wanting to deepen the kiss, you moved your thumb to his jaw, signaling him to open his mouth wider.

he (hopefully) got the hint and slowly but surely slotted his tongue right against yours. he wanted to memorize every part of you and figured he should start with your mouth.

it was as if your lips and tongues moved in perfect synchronization. like puzzle pieces.

when he finally pulled back, it was only enough to rest his forehead against yours.

you both stood there, catching your breath.

“…wow” you said, dazed. “what the hell, sim.”

he stared at you. blinked. once. twice. “w-was it okay? did i — do it wrong?”

silence. 

he spoke again, “that was kinda.. my first — um — my first kiss…” 

you let out a disbelieving laugh. “what do you mean that was your first kiss??? you kissed me like you’ve been rehearsing it in your dreams.”

he looked away. shy. “…maybe i have.”

you narrowed your eyes. “wait. have you?”

he winced. “that was a joke.”

it was silent for a hot minute.

“…mostly. i—i never really get close to pretty girls because i don’t— well i don’t go out. so. um. yeah…” 

you grabbed his hoodie and pulled him closer until your lips were right in front of his plush ones. “stop speaking nonsense and kiss me again, sim.” 

he didn’t hesitate. just smiled at you and slammed your lips on his. he kissed you like he was finally where he belonged.

and maybe he was.

because nerdy physics tutors?

yeah. they might know the laws of motion — but now he knew what it felt like to crash into you.

please reblog if you enjoyed this cute lil fic ! it helps a lot <3

[ @jaeyuniversal ] prod. 250508

[ghouljams]

there's just literally nothing better than having that man push you down to bend over a table so he can grind his clothed cock against your ass. making sure you can feel the way it bulges against his zipper and presses hot where it catches between your legs. wiggling your ass to try and get it positioned where you want it, just to make your breath catch in your chest and your stomach warm with each bump against your sensitive slit. then hearing that voice behind you growl that he knew you wanted it??? swoon

[st7rnioioss]

TUTOR!MATT x BRATTY!READER

bratty!reader tries to take control in the bedroom.. but tutor!matt isn't having it

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... smut, dom!matt, sub!reader, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this pls!!), bigdick!matt, stomach bulge, overstimulation, squirting

“shh- matt. no! stop! just- just shut up, be a good boy f’me,” you whined with furrowed brows, both your hands resting on his bare chest while your legs were sprawled out on either side of his hips, his throbbing cock nestled deep inside of you making your head spin.

you were desperately trying everything to at least earn a whine from him, wanting to fuck him stupid, not the other way around. he usually submitted whenever you pulled the ‘good boy’ card, but today? he wasn’t budging.

and matt? oh, matt was enjoying the show more than anything. all day, you had tried to maneuver him around, acting all big and tough, while he simply just broke a chuckle at your ‘big and strong’ self. he was trying his best to tutor you and study after school, but once again, you were being silly and whiny, insisting you didn’t want to.

but matt knew that you’re just all bark no bite. so why not take advantage of that for a good minute?

“come on, show me what you’ve got, baby,” he smirked, his hands caressing up and down your bare sides while you squirmed from the delicious stretch, letting you do all the hard work. but you just pressed a finger to his lips, shutting him up.

“b-be quiet.. and be a g-good boy f’me,” your voice was weak, coming out as a pathetic whimper while you desperately wanted to take control in the bedroom like usual. but matt wasn’t having any of it.

and while you desperately tried to shut him up, you could feel your pussy drooling around his cock, clenching and squeezing him. at this point, the only person you were teasing was yourself. “n-now just.. just let me do it, puppy,” you whined, letting your finger slip from his lips to rest on his chest once more, steadying yourself as you started to rock your hips back and forth.

“f-fuck.. you’re.. so big,” you moaned pathetically, glaring at him when he let a smile grow on his lips again, squeezing your eyes shut both to ignore the look on his face, but also in pure pleasure.

weakly, you started raising and lowering your hips, letting his fat cock nudge that sweet spot deep within you, allowing pornographic moans to carelessly spill from your lips. “yeah, is it that good, huh? y’look so adorable, all dumb on my big cock, aren’t you?” he teased, watching the way your tits bounced ever so slightly from your slow pace.

his words went in through one ear and out through the other—because he was completely right. the weak and slow bouncing you were doing on his dick made your mind fog into one cloud, nothing but the feeling of him sheathed deep inside of your slick pussy going through your mind. matt kept his hands on your hips, but he didn’t help you at all. he just watched where your two bodies connected, enjoying the sight of your wet hole taking all of him while occasionally letting out a quiet groan.

“c’mon, baby. s’that all you got for me?” he teased, playfully squeezing your hips, making you yelp and open your droopy eyes to meet his. “matt, be quiet! y-you’re being.. bad,” oh, his heart was melting at your desperate and whiny voice, along with your desperate bouncing on his dick. he couldn’t help it, you looked so adorable.

yeah, he could tell your mind was one big haze, but he could also tell you wanted, no, needed more. the pitiful, little whimpers, your nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on his chest, and the dull bounces. no, he had enough.

in a quick move, he heisted you off of him by your waist, flipping you over so he was hovering over you, one hand beside your head, the other one spreading your knees apart. “yeah, i’ve had enough of your little antics, bunny. gonna be a good girl for me?” he mocked your previous words, and with a yelp from you, he slowly stuffed his cock back into you, a loud and carefree moan leaving your parted, pretty lips.

before long, he was pounding into you, whines and moans spilling from your mouth. “matt- you’re, you’re being.. sss..such a bad boy,” you slurred your words, head thrown back against the pillow behind you when he thrusted harder into your gummy walls, eliciting a lewd squelching noise.

“yeah? y’think?” he asked rhetorically, knowing you were far too gone to answer, let alone register his words. “i think that you’re enjoying this, don’t you? such a dumb brat. you’re going all stupid on my cock… so, so wet f’me,” he let out a choked chuckle, a sharp groan leaving his lips. “your pretty pussy squeezing me so fuckin’ good..” you wailed on a moan, your nails digging into his biceps while he continued plowing into your soaked walls.

“fuck! matt, i’m- i’m gonna cum, don’t stop!” you whimpered, eyes pinched shut while he gently ran his knuckles over your cheek. “good girl.. just keep on squeezing me, baby. you’re being so, so good..” he groaned, momentarily letting his thrusts slow, both hands sliding up the back of your thighs, grabbing the back of your knees to press them down to your chest. the new position only allowed him to push harder into your drooling cunt, his fat tip already brushing against your cervix.

he nearly goddamn spilled his cum into you when he saw the way your lower tummy was bulging, carefully brushing his fingers over the imprint, before returning the hand to your knee. he watched as he slowly pulled back, almost all the way out, before pushing his cock back in, his eyes following the bulge in your tummy. fuck, he was enjoying the sight of his dick disappearing into you.

“you take me so well.. y’like that?” he chuckled dryly when he saw the way your lips parted into an o-shape, brows knitting up in pure ecstasy. “god, you look cute. acting all tough, while getting your brains fucked out.. not so tough now, are you?” he quietly mumbled, picking up the speed of his hips, until he was back to ram into your sloppy cunt. though your mind was telling you to snap back at him in that bratty tone you had, you just couldn’t get yourself to it—maybe you were too dumb on his dick.

“g-g’nna cum! matt-“ you blabbered, your moans only growing in volume and pitch when his cock continued hitting that spot inside of you, the wet and lewd noises from your pussy only adding to the overwhelming sensation. “come on, pretty. i know you can do it, cum on my big cock,” he husked, a low moan followed by his words, his pelvis brushing perfectly against your swollen bud.

before you knew any better, you were releasing all around him, loud and pathetic moans coming from your parted lips, still stuck in an o-shape. your thighs were aching, eyes fluttered shut when he continued to thrust into your dripping hole, listening to the sinful squelching.

“s’too much- matt…” you whined, eyes fluttering open for a moment to look up at him with pleading eyes. his thrust stilled for a second, allowing you to catch his breath while he leaned down to peck your forehead.

and just as you thought he was gonna pull out, he started plunging back into your sensitive pussy, a squeal leaving your lips. “shh, baby- be quiet f’me.. i’m not done with you yet,” his voice was wicked, twisted with need. he slowly let go of one of your legs, his hand slipping over your pretty lips to muffle your whines and whimpers, the other hand resting across your stomach to feel his cock inside of you.

“since you wanted to act all tough.. how does it feel now? me being all tough on you?” his words were mean, but his tone wasn’t twisted with malice, continuing to pump into your overstimulated cunt. he could tell you were close from the way you were clamping around him, his hand snaking down to gently pinch your clit between his fingers, your back arching.

you felt that same tightening in your lower tummy like moments prior, attempting to warn him—but it was hard, from the way his hand clamped over your pretty lips. the continuous thrusts only made it harder to hold back, and soon after, you were gushing around him, knees starting to tremble while your moans we’re muffled by his palm. though you desperately wanted to catch your breath for a second, his following words only made you want to do it all over again.

“fuck, would you look at that.. soaking the fuckin’ sheets for me, huh?” he cooed, his thrusts turning sloppy when his eyes flickering down to watch your soaked cunt take all of him, flickering back up to your lidded eyes while he rubbed lazy circles on your bud.

“yeah, nah.. i’m nowhere done with you, angel,”

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: this one's filthyyy... i neeeeeeddd a nerd in my lifeeeee please. matt with glasses matt with glasses matt with glasses i chant

more tutor!matt x bratty!reader here

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @forgottxen @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[jaeyunluvbot]

classmates to lovers with heeseung

۫ ꣑ৎ lee heeseung x fem!reader

masterlist

[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

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[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 1.8 chapter index — next chap. masterlist

one

thursday, january 9th

go where the wind takes me. it’s a phrase you’d heard countless times over the years. it eased people, gave them perspective, helped them loosen up. but you? no, it did the opposite. it made you do what you did best—research. what kind of research? the top 100 most successful people and whether they’d ever "gone with the wind." the answer was no. not a single one. going with the wind doesn’t make anyone successful. it leads to dead ends, wrong turns, wasted time—and time was the one thing no one could afford to squander.

the importance of planning everything as meticulously as possible was something that you'd ingrained in your mind at a young age and it had led you exactly where you were. it was the foundation of everything you’d achieved: top of your class, surrounded by like-minded peers, ready for a prestigious summer program, and just a year away from the university of your dreams. everything you’d worked for was at your fingertips. nothing could get in your way now.

"hi, sandy," you greeted the office secretary who watched you struggling to balance a precarious stack of papers in your arms.

"good morning, sweetheart. need help with that?" sandy asked with a warm smile.

"nope, i’ve got it," you replied, setting the stack on the counter with a satisfying thud. carefully, you aligned the papers before placing your palms on top to steady them.

"these are the documents for the student body audit next week. i printed an extra copy for principal oakley, complete with annotations, just in case there’s any confusion."

"always so thorough," sandy remarked with a grin. the compliment made your entire week.

"ah, just who i needed to see." a familiar voice sounded behind you and you twirled around to see principal oakley walking into the office. "oh, good morning, principal oakley." you said, your tone as polished as ever. you barely glanced at the boy trailing behind him before falling into step with the principal.

and yes, following him into his office was a tad unconventional but someone with as much determination and drive as you rarely let things like "innaproriate behaviour" get in your way.

"you are just who i wanted to see too. i know the holidays just ended but i did want to just follow up on my recommendation letter which you'd think about writing, remember?" you fixed your bag on your shoulder as principal oakley sat at his desk and briefly glanced behind you.

"y/n—" the principal tried to interrupt.

you didn't stop talking. "and i know you don't write recommendation letters for your students to keep things fair and whatnot but i—" principal oakley tried to interrupt again but didn't have the chance before you continued rattling. "—hope you reconsidered because i just know that having your letter under my belt will make me stand out to the admissions board and who am i if not representation for our fine school?"

principal oakley cleared his throat and this time you noticed the brief glance behind you. you slowly followed his gaze to see rafe cameron leaning against the doorframe.

your mental file on him loaded instantly: soccer player, tall, messy, and in your opinion, a bit… ran through. still contemporary philosophy like utilitarianism says the morality of having multiple partners depends on whether it increases overall happiness and minimizes harm so you were in no position to shame anyone just trying to increase their own happiness. you suppose.

"oh, was this a bad time?" you asked sheepishly, stepping aside. "not at all," the principal replied. "in fact, this concerns you as well. please, have a seat—and refrain from going into rants until i'm finished speaking." principal oakley says.

frowning in confusion, you complied. sitting beside rafe, you tried to mask your unease. what could he have to discuss with both you and rafe cameron? you weren't very good with uncertainty so sitting still was becoming a challenge as principal oakley rummaged through his desk.

you had to focus on something to stop yourself from panicking so you focused on him. very discreetly. he was so very..unruly. like something hard to contain, just spilling over the edges with his messy hair, that sweater that was not ironed, the shirt under the sweater that was untucked in that untidy way, that smell—woody with a faint hint of vanilla. you liked that smell.

you looked down at your own clothes—a powder blue ruffle top from khaite that you saved for for months and gifted yourself over winter break, off-white pants that were perfectly ironed and fresh from the laundry, hair in a neat french twist. from first sight, you and him were polar opposites.

"alright, y/n," principal oakley finally sat back down, his gaze steady as you watched him attentively. "you know rafe, right?" he asked, gesturing slightly toward the boy seated across from you. your eyes flicked to rafe, who was already staring at you, his expression unreadable.

"uh-huh," you murmured, turning your focus back to the principal.

"well, rafe here has a little problem." principal oakley slid a paper across the desk, and your curiosity spiked as you glanced down. it was rafe's report card.

it was disastrous.

you gasped softly, and rafe let out a noise of protest. "shit, it's not that bad," he muttered, leaning in close to peer over your shoulder at his own grades. the sudden proximity sent a ripple of awareness through you. despite your best efforts to stay indifferent, the intoxicating mix of his scent and the startling lack of male attention in your life was doing a number on your self-control.

"language, mr. cameron. and yes, it really is that bad," principal oakley said firmly. "which is why we need your help, y/n."

you tried to focus, though every nerve in your body screamed for you to stay perfectly still, afraid rafe would pull back. your intrusive thoughts—chief among them being the absolutely insane urge to bury your head in his neck—were becoming harder to suppress. quickly, you straightened and fixed your attention on the principal.

"my help?" you asked, the words laced with genuine confusion.

"the athletic board won’t let rafe play next season if he doesn’t pass at least one of his failing classes. we’ve discussed it with his teachers, and they believe algebra is his best shot. mr. coleman specifically suggested you for the job. he said your grasp of the material is exceptional, sometimes even surpassing his. your work ethic, dedication, and knowledge are exactly what rafe needs to bring his grade up to a satisfactory six—or, with hope, even a seven or seven and a half."

principal oakley's words hung in the air as you processed them. finally, you blinked slowly. "you want me…" you began cautiously, "to take him from a two-point-five to a seven-point-five in five months?"

"that’s like 150 days," rafe interjected, his tone unexpectedly eager. "we can do this! i’ll be the best student, i swear."

we?

"and on which planet is that 150 days, rafe?" you turned to him, your voice tinged with disbelief. "five months is about 150 days, sure. but i don’t know about you, mr. cameron, but i have class every day from eight to three. we have over 15 assignments a month, tests, midterms in march. i’m student body president. i’m organizing spring fling, pajama day, color war, the bake sale, and the car wash fundraiser—where, by the way, i expect the soccer team’s full, enthusiastic participation in semi-nude form for maximum profit. there’s also valentine’s day card exchanges, college fairs, and, oh, right—i have a life. i need to eat, study, and spend enough time with my friends and family to avoid being accused of neglecting them." you folded your arms. "so tell me, rafe, where in that mess do you see time for this?"

rafe stared at you, slightly wide-eyed.

"exactly," you concluded, crossing your legs. "nowhere."

you turned back to principal oakley. "maybe someone could contact the board and ask for len—"

"y/n, this is their leniency. usually, a two-point-five is an automatic cutoff." principal oakley cut you off, his voice calm but insistent. "i wouldn’t be asking if i didn’t believe in you."

the praise softened you momentarily. "principal oakley," you began, reaching into your bag and pulling out your life planner with a flourish. its heft rattled the pens on his desk. "this is my schedule." flipping to the last pages, you tapped a line with a manicured nail. "rafe, read this."

he leaned in, eyebrows raised. "january 20th, 2056: be sworn in as the 59th president of the country."

you smiled, all proud like you'd already achieved it which you technically had since everything that belonged to you was already yours.

"now, as you can imagine, i have a very rigorous plan in place to achieving my final goal and unfortunately, my schedule is just..airtight until.." you grimaced, "atleast 2061, maybe 2065." you were still debating the second term.

rafe chuckled quietly, and you shot him a glare before principal oakley interrupted.

"i assume my recommendation letter holds a significant place in your 30-year plan."

you hesitated. "…it does."

"well, helping your fellow student would demonstrate the leadership and dedication your university looks for. i could write you a glowing recommendation and even personally contact the dean’s office if you agree to tutor mr. cameron."

you froze, your mind flashing with possibilities. the thought of the dean knowing your name—of shaving years off your plan—was too good to pass up.

"fine," you said at last, exhaling. "but i expect nothing short of perfection in that letter. and the dean better invite me for tea when you’re done."

turning to rafe, you leveled him with a sharp look. "every tuesday and sunday at four. take this seriously, or you’ll see how hostile i can get. and read the chapters beforehand. i’ll text you my address."

you strode toward the door.

"you don’t have my number!" rafe called after you, amusement clear in his voice.

"i practically live in this office, rafe!" you shot back over your shoulder. "i have everyone’s number!"

chapter index — next chap. masterlist

[rafey-baby]

He looks like a sexy history nerd who’s trying to tutor reader because she decided it was a good idea to take some history courses in university but now, she’s failing her tests and coming to the conclusion that maybe history is actually just not for her.

However, she’s stubborn and wants to pass the class so she gets a tutor but it’s so difficult to concentrate on what he’s saying because she keeps getting distracted by the way his strawberry mouth moves around the words and—

“Do I have somethin’ on m’face?” he suddenly scolds her with a click of his tongue; brows raised and an amused smirk tugging at his mouth when she stutters out a response, face flushed.

“N— no. Sorry.”

“Need you to focus on this, yeah? It’s important. Or would you prefer a different type of a teachin’ method?”

And her eyes round out because why does the seemingly innocent question sound so filthy when he says it with that low drawl of his…

[noirscript]

Where the Ivy Grows

Pairing: Yandere!Tutor x Childhood Friend!Reader Description: You built a quiet life in his absence—but Seraphim D’Aronn has returned, and he’s come to collect what was always his. Warning/s: Yandere | Emotional Manipulation | Power Imbalance | Implied Coercion | Gaslighting | Possessive Behavior | Contractual Relationship Note/s: Enjoy this Clerivan Pellet-inspired character. This man... god... um, hehe. Oh, Dark Roast v2 is up on my ko-fi and you can get it half the price by clicking the link below. ^^ Commissions are also open to those interested.

Masterlist | Commission | Tip Jar | Dark Roast v2

You never heard the carriage wheels.

The town was too quiet for that, muffled under the thick blanket of summer heat and your own routine of pretending you weren’t waiting for something to go wrong.

You’re out back, hanging washed linens on the line, sleeves rolled past your elbows, neck damp with sweat, when the first shadow falls across the hem of a sheet fluttering in the breeze. You freeze, peg suspended in your fingers. You don’t need to look. You know who it is.

You feel it in the silence.

“…You’re early.”

Your voice is calm, but there’s a tremor. You hate it. You’ve had three years to learn how to hide that—ever since you signed what you thought was a generous marriage contract, eyes tired and stomach hollow from grief and debt. Three years to convince yourself it wasn’t entrapment, just kindness delivered with a bit too much pressure.

But Seraphim D’Aronn is never early.

He’s exactly on time. Always.

You turn slowly, shielding your eyes against the sun, and there he is—taller than memory allows, a quiet monument in cream linen, silver-trimmed coat hanging over one arm. His hair is longer than before, nearly brushing his waist, gathered at the nape with a deep blue ribbon. Not a strand out of place. His sapphire eyes are unreadable behind the glint of thin-rimmed spectacles.

He smiles.

“I missed you.”

It’s not a lie. But it’s not love either.

At least, not the kind you want.

You swallow. “You said you wouldn’t be back until winter.”

“I had a change of heart.”

Of course he did.

The children of the Eldermont Duchy must be fully grown now. Old enough not to need their calm, intelligent tutor with the kind smile and frighteningly precise memory. And Seraphim… Seraphim keeps his promises, but only the ones he chooses to keep.

You step aside instinctively as he moves closer, hands clasped behind his back like he’s afraid to touch you too soon. He’s always done that—delayed gratification in its most polite, invasive form. Never force, never cruelty. Just control.

The only thing he ever wanted more than your love was your obedience.

“I brought something.” He nods toward the house. “Where should I set the luggage?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you retreat into the house. You tell yourself it’s for the tea.

• • — ✦ — • •

The kitchen feels smaller with him in it. He moves like a ghost—quiet, careful, but always there. Always watching. His eyes linger on your back a bit too long as you fill the kettle. You pretend not to notice. Pretend you don’t feel like a bird locking itself back into a gilded cage.

“Did you get the letters I sent?” His voice is mild.

“I did.”

“You didn’t reply.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

A beat of silence.

“I missed you.”

“You already said that.”

“I’ll keep saying it,” he murmurs. “Until you believe me.”

You set the cups down harder than intended.

Seraphim doesn’t flinch.

Instead, he steps closer, his gaze lowered, expression soft. “You’ve done well here. The garden looks lovely. And the ivy—you’ve been trimming it back yourself, haven’t you?”

You nod, unsure whether to feel proud or wary. He’s praising your efforts, the life you’ve built in his absence. But you don’t trust praise from a man who once convinced you that a signature was just a formality.

He leans against the counter beside you, close enough for his shoulder to almost brush yours. His scent is familiar—books, bergamot, and the faint metallic note of ink. It clings to him like memory.

“You look tired,” he murmurs. “Have you been sleeping poorly?”

“No more than usual.”

“I could help,” he offers. “The tincture I gave you last spring—”

“I stopped taking it.”

That finally earns a visible reaction.

His lips press together, thin with disappointment, but he doesn’t argue. He never argues. Not when it matters.

“I see,” he says quietly, adjusting his glasses.

You serve the tea in silence.

• • — ✦ — • •

That night, he didn’t ask to share your bed. He merely occupies it.

You find him already seated on the edge when you return from brushing your hair, unbuttoning his shirt with slow, practiced fingers. The golden strands fall like liquid light down his back as he sets his glasses on the nightstand.

He speaks without looking up.

“I’ve requested that the Eldermont Duchy forward the remainder of my holdings to this estate. I will no longer be returning to the Capital.”

Your heart stutters.

“Seraphim—”

“I’m not asking for permission.”

Of course he isn’t.

You feel the words rising in your throat, the old ones—I never wanted this, you tricked me, you said I could leave—but you’ve said them before. Quietly, uselessly. They always slip past him like smoke. He never denies them. He just… reminds you.

“You signed a lifetime clause,” he says softly, as if reading your thoughts. “Nullification only occurs in death.”

You sit down heavily at the foot of the bed.

“You always leave that part out.”

His voice warms, almost gentle. “Because I don’t plan to die.”

You shiver.

He moves closer, lifting the blanket with a reverent touch. The mattress dips as he settles beside you. For a long moment, neither of you speak. His hand hovers inches from yorus, close enough for the heat to leach into your skin. But he doesn’t touch you. Not yet.

“I remember the day you smiled at me for the first time,” he says softly. “We were children. I’d fallen in the river trying to catch that stupid dragonfly. You pulled me out. I cried.”

You stare at your knees.

“You were just a boy.”

“I’m still that boy,” he whispers. “But now I can protect you.”

You close your eyes.

“From what, Seraphim?”

He doesn’t answer.

Because the answer is everything. Including yourself.

• • — ✦ — • •

The days stretch slowly.

He doesn’t try to cage you physically. You still go to the market. Still tend the garden. Still breathe air that feels free. But his presence coils through the house like ivy—unassuming, patient, inescapable. He renovates the library, expands the study, commissions furniture with your initials carved into the wood.

A matching desk.

Matching chairs.

Matching tea cups.

“I thought we could use more symmetry,” he explains, setting the pair of porcelain cups onto the shelf. His expression is serene. “Married life should reflect harmony.”

You say nothing.

He never forces you to speak.

But you wonder if that’s worse.

Because silence lets your mind slip into dangerous things. It lets you notice the quiet click of the study’s lock when he’s inside. Lets you realize the ledger drawer is always locked. Lets you catch the glint of obsidian wax on sealed envelopes addressed to names you don’t recognize.

One morning, you reach for his coat by the doorway—and find a letter tucked into the break pocket.

The seal is broken.

The handwriting isn’t his.

You only have seconds. You skin. Seraphim, your return is noted. The children ask after you still. Have you truly no interest in the family’s daughter? You could’ve had her, you know. The Duchess was prepared to endorse you.

You feel ill.

A rustle behind you.

You turn too fast, nearly dropping the letter.

He’s there, quiet as snow, holding two steaming cups of tea.

“I thought we might read together today,” he says calmly.

You place the letter back without meeting his gaze.

• • — ✦ — • •

But summer’s end, he’s teaching again.

Not children. Just you.

He fills the shelves with books—history, finance, alchemy, etiquette. At first, you resist. Then relent. Then find yourself waking to find him already preparing ink and parchment before you’ve even yawned.

“Your mind is sharp,” he says one day, during a break. “Wasted on manual labor and petty errands. I’ll never forgive them for stifling you.”

“Who?”

“Everyone who didn’t see your worth.”

You look away.

He reaches over, brushing a curl behind your ear. “Including yourself.”

You don’t recoil.

That’s the worst part.

Because something—sometimes—when he smiles like that, when his voice dips into something painfully tender, you feel something like safety.

And you hate yourself for it.

• • — ✦ — • •

That winter, snow blankets the fields. Seraphim starts reading aloud by the fire. His voice is smooth, musical. You wonder how the heirs of the Eldermont Duchy ever let him go. You wonder what kind of man turns his back on nobility for a locked house in a backwater town.

You ask him once—only once—why he left.

He closes the book slowly, looks at you over his glasses.

“I had everything there. Position. Wealth. Power.” He sets the book down, fingers lingering on the leather spine. “But not you.”

You want to scream.

But you don’t.

Because there is something terrifying in the way he says your name afterward. Not loud. Not desperate. Just… final.

• • — ✦ — • •

He touches you more often now. Brief, polite gestures—hand on your lower back, fingers brushing yours while you shell peas, palm cupping your cheek when you nod off in the study. It feels natural. Like a husband should. Like love should.

But it isn’t.

It’s possession wrapped in silk.

And still, you endure.

You wonder what’s worse—his touch or the absence of it.

You wonder how many others he’s ensnared with words like sugar.

You wonder if he would ever let you go.

You know the answer.

• • — ✦ — • •

One night, unable to sleep, you find him in the study again.

He’s writing letters, glasses low on his nose, ink pooling in the curve of his wrist as he writes line after elegant line. His expression is soft. Focused. He doesn’t hear you at first.

Then he does.

And he smiles.

“My darling,” he says, standing. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head.

He opens his arms, and like the fool you’ve become, you walk into them.

He holds you, careful and still.

Then he whispers against your temple:

“You were always going to be mine. Even if it took a lifetime.”

You feel the contract in your bones then—not paper, not ink. But steel.

You wonder if, in another life, you would’ve loved him freely.

You wonder if he would’ve waited.

But you know this isn’t that life.

And Seraphim D’Aronn doesn’t wait.

He decides.

noirscript © 2025

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[goyardgoyangi]

best friend’s brother! suguru hcs

hear me out… best friend’s brother! suguru, who totally isn’t jealous— until he is, totally isn’t into you— until he’s fucking you breathless, totally has it under control— until he realizes he’s been down bad this whole time.

best friend’s brother! suguru who lounges with his friends at a house party, drink in hand, when he spots you— dressed up more than usual. his gaze lingers longer than it should.

best friend’s brother! suguru who tells himself he’s just looking out for you, but when he sees other guys watching, flirting, trying to get close, something sharp twists in his chest.

best friend’s brother! suguru who pulls you upstairs into the bathroom— fucking you, hard and desperate, against the door with his hands gripping your waist like he’s been waiting for this moment forever.

best friend’s brother! suguru who wakes up the next morning snuggled warmly inside you— and cuddling you in his sheets, watching you with dark, searching eyes, trying to make sense of it all.

best friend’s brother! suguru who stays quiet, tracing circles on your skin, lost in thought— freaking out inside. what if you regret it? what if this messes everything up?

best friend’s brother! suguru who doesn’t want to rush you, but when you slip away without a glance in his direction, he wonders if he already has.

best friend’s brother! suguru who finally sees you again when calculus is kicking your ass, and with the study center packed, you have no choice but to accept his offer to personally tutor you— he’s just glad to have you need him again.

best friend’s brother! suguru who tries so hard to focus on teaching you derivatives, but all he can think about is how you lean in closer, how your lips part slightly when you concentrate (he's wondering what your lips would look like around him).

best friend’s brother! suguru who starts watching over you more after the intensive all-nighter you guys pulled at the library, jaw visibly tightening whenever another guy looks at you a little too long.

best friend’s brother! suguru who never says anything outright, but always finds a way to cut in—resting a hand on your lower back, draping an arm over your shoulders, standing just a little too close.

[allimili]

can you draw shadow milk showing support for y/n for exam days pls ☹️🤍 we just need some fluff fr

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