#tutor!au
Text
anatomy – matty healy
matty is supposed to tutor you in biology, but there’s another subject you’re much more interested in…
or tutor!au <3
tags: 18+, oral sex, unprotected sex, dry humping, dom/sub undertones, choking, cumplay, virgin!matty, freaky little loser guy
6802 words
You sit on top of the sheets of your bed, ankles crossed. You pop your bubblegum, flipping boredly through your Cosmo. Lipsticks, perfectly preened women, and the top ten sex tips flip in front of your eyes. You halt at the horoscope, indulgently checking yours. You’re not superstitious: it’s just that anything is better than this godforsaken lesson.
“And, you see, the specific shape of the active site of an enzyme enables it to function,” Matty drawls on, unfaltered by your clear disinterest. Maybe he doesn’t see; his nose is pulled tightly in his book. “It’s— It’s really a simple understanding of 'lock and key'. You can think of enzyme activity as molecular collisions resulting in the formation of enzyme-substrate complexes.” All the terms blur together in your mind. In one ear, transformed and decorated by the pretty pink things on your page, then out the other.
You almost feel bad for Matty, pushed into your room by your parents with pleading, desperate eyes to make you learn something. He sits at your desk while you distract yourself with whatever is more interesting which, as it so happens, is almost everything. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t say much to you other than hey and a string of jargon you don’t care to understand. It’s not like your bitchy, unimpressed stare is very welcoming.
Matty has this nervous, twitchy energy about him. He stutters through half of his sentences, pushing his glasses up his nose, searching for the fixed point in his book he lost. He swallows thickly, starts again. An awkward, limby thing.
Really, it’s a shame he wears all those nerdy shirts and drowning clothes, as well as those horrendous thick, square glasses. If you assess him objectively enough, he could be quite pretty. He’s lean, with a cutting jaw, and adorable curly hair. Girls would look away a flutter of red flags if it meant birthing kids with those traits.
You sigh, pushing the Cosmo off your bed, rolling to your belly. You rest your chin on your crossed arms, eyeing Matty. He gives you a look at the shifting noise, rounding his eyes as they fall on the stripe of skin your loose lounging shorts have revealed in the crossfire. It’s barely a few centimeters of your asscheeks, but Matty blushes all the same, flipping back to his book as though burned. You smirk. Interesting.
“Matty,” you trail lightly, the cadence of a song.
You found your bright new, shining distraction. Your smile is vicious and dangerous, ready to bite, to gnaw to the bone.
Matty looks up at you, incertain. You rarely address him during your tutoring lessons. You’re not even sure you’ve said his name before, at least not to him. “I’m bored with biology,” you declare, artfully pouty and dejected.
“Oh,” he says. He swallows thickly. Flips through his book. His nervous tics make him all the more tantalizing to you. Some cruel need to toughen him up. “Um—”
You lick your teeth, grinning. “I want to study anatomy.”
Matty laughs, pushing his glasses up his nose. “That’s not in the syllabus.” There’s something about his total misunderstanding of your line that makes the need frizzle inside of you. An innocent little thing, to pick and devour through.
You sit up, resting your weight on your heels. Your knees part suggestively, the loose shorts riding up your thighs. Your crop top sits up your ribs. Belly button piercing winks at him. Matty takes in the sight, face pale. You grin, victorious.
“I didn’t mean that anatomy,” you say, teasing. You rest a hand loosely on your leg, purposefully dragging his stare down to it. Your pink nails flash against your skin.
“Oh.” He swallows thickly, hypnotized by the soft flesh of your thighs. “I—” He shakes his head, as if to draw himself out of the daydream. “I, um—” He repeats, then laughs, “What?”
You sigh, kneeling up and getting off the bed. Your bare feet wiggle in the fuzzy, pink carpet. You prowl to him, predator-like. His breath hitches in his throat, right where you want it.
“Matty,” you sing, and he chokes at the sound. Just his name drives him wild— good to know. You get close enough to lean on the desk, to tower over him. He blinks up at you, robbed of speech. You flutter your eyelashes at him. “Are you a virgin?”
His lips part in surprise, but he doesn’t answer. Not that he needs to; the fucking sight of him is enough to know. It’s about the fun of watching him stumble, stutter, push his little glasses up his nose, telltale signs you revel in.
You sit on the desk, bunching his careful notes. You trail two fingers up his shoulder, that awful cheap plaid. You almost resent the feel of it on your skin, if not for the way he shivers.
You pout mockingly at him, stopping where the collar of his shirt meets the skin of his neck. “Are you gonna answer me?”
“Yeah— yes.” You run your fingertips on his neck, a grazing touch that has him staring up at you in devotion. You smirk.
“Have you ever been touched like this?” You run your thumb to the other side of his neck, a strong path. You want him to feel it, until your hand stretches over his throat, possessive.
He swallows under your palm, Adam’s apple bobbing on your fortune-telling palm lines. “No,” he admits quietly. You feel it resonate more than you hear it.
You hum, silently thrilled. “And have you ever been kissed?” You whisper.
Matty stares up at you. He waits a second, two— takes his time. “No.” You smirk. You pick your gum between two fingers, pressing it into the corner of his notes. Perfect.
It’s a little awkward, of course, because you’re perched on the desk and he’s sitting all the way down on his chair, gripping its arms. But, still, you bend down and kiss him square on the mouth.
He gasps against you, freezing there. You’re undeterred; you kiss and kiss him, smearing your strawberry lipgloss, until he snaps into action and kisses you back. It’s a rhythmless, artless thing.
He doesn’t know how to kiss.
What he lacks in technique, he makes up in eagerness, opening his mouth and licking a wet tongue into yours. You giggle a little, taste the Sour Patch kids he nervously ate from his bag between two scientific words you purposefully didn’t remember. You press at his throat, just so he’s as breathless as you are. He moans against your lips, panting.
Matty doesn’t dare touch. His body is fixed to the desk chair, letting himself be kissed, taking only what you are willing to offer. He sits there like you are breathing life into his mouth, eating and eating and never asking for more. It’s what makes you want to give him more.
You pull away from him, straightening like a queen taking her throne. Under you, the pages wrinkle and ruffle, and he doesn’t even care. His lips are swollen and pink, shiny from the lipgloss. Breaths puff out from there, pulling attention.
“You’re kinda pretty,” you admit lowly, like a secret he should know.
“Thanks,” Matty flushes.
You release his throat, wiping your pink gloss off his lips. They part instinctively. You smile, slipping your thumb inside. He sucks the strawberry, warm tongue on your fingerprint. Power loosens your head.
“Do you want me?” You ask, as though his mouth drooling around your thumb wasn’t indication enough. You want the words; you want the worship.
“Yeth,” he says, choking on your finger. You smile, taking it out and drying it on his cheek.
You don’t make a big show of taking your shirt off. Your hands are at the hem of your baby tee, then it’s off your shoulders, thrown on the pink carpet. Matty whines, surprised and overwhelmed, throwing a furtive glance at the cracked door of your bedroom.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand. Soft and weak; he hasn’t worked a day in his life. It’s slack between your fingers. He lets you puppeteer it to your breasts, lets you grope yourself with him as an instrument.
He makes another small noise from the back of his throat, staring at the fucking sight like he can’t quite believe it truly is his own hand. “God,” he mutters to himself, and it’s exactly how you feel.
“Say thank you,” you taunt him, because you know he will.
Like clockwork, Matty revels, “Thank you.” Growing bold, he rubs a thumb over your hard nipple, a tough callus you didn’t expect on the tip of it. It makes you moan; a crack in your spotless armor, but he doesn’t even notice. Too preoccupied with playing with your tits, pawing at it greedily.
“Can I—” He flushes, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Can I lick them?” A drop of heat strikes through you. You clench your thighs, arching your back into his readied palm.
“Yes.” He leans in before you’ve finished the s, sucking your abandoned nipple into his mouth. He licks and rubs and pinches, raw skill pulling at your sensitive skin. You bite back groans, breathing harshly. Your chest rises and falls into his mouth, but he’s just as diligent.
You rake a long-nailed hand into his hair, scratching his scalp with every particularly delicious lick. He moans at that, vibrating on your sensitive nipples.
He sticks his tongue out, panting like a dog, dipping down to the valley of your tits and pressing a kiss, then climbing up a new breast. He bites gently, and you jump, surprised by his boldness.
“Sorry,” he whispers. You don’t like this little switch-up in power. He’s supposed to be purring for you, enthrallment shining in his eyes. You tug on his hair, making him look at you.
Matty stares up, dutiful. He doesn’t care about the power game; hasn’t even realized you were slipping. He takes what you give.
You soothe away the sting of his hair. “Pretty boy,” you coo. Matty beams at that. “I want to hear you scream.”
With this, you jump off the desk, and kneel under it.
“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide as he watches you fumble with his pants. You unbutton and unzip, fast and knowledgeable, dipping into his boxers— “Wait.”
You look up at him, inches from your goal. You cock your head, frowning. “What?”
“Just—” He pants, staring at you. “Just give me a second.”
You hum, grazing a finger on the faint happy trail of his stomach. His belly sucks in. “Are you nervous?”
“No,” he says. “Yes. I don’t know.” He laughs. His hands still grip the armrests, white-knuckled. “Why are you doing this?”
You shrug. “I want to.” You tip your head, kissing his soft hand. “Do you want me to?”
“Well, yeah.”
You grin. “Relax.” Finally, your hand slips under his underwear, and you wrap around his hard length. He gasps, cold fingers against hot skin, fingers against him.
His hips jump into your fist as you draw him out. Another nervous glance to the door, still half-opened. Your parents are somewhere in the house, pretending not to exist. You lick your lips.
You lightly scratch your pink nails against him. You run a thumb on his tip, smearing precum. He hisses, turning into a moan as you slowly drag your hand down. He’s frozen and tense, almost afraid of moving, as if that would make you go away.
“Teach me,” you say.
He blinks at you, dazed. “Huh?”
Your eyes vaguely look up to the desk you hide under, biology notes in his scratchy writing laying wrinkled. “Biology. My parents are paying you for a reason, aren’t they?”
“Oh—” He flushes, embarrassed. Pushes his glasses up. “Right, right.” His hands let go of the armrests, searching through the pages. You choose this moment to kiss the tip of his cock. He whimpers, shutting his eyes in pleasure. “Fuck.” You giggle, all too happy.
He struggles to find where you disturbed him, biting his lip in comical concentration. You tease him, enjoying all the little breaths he chokes on, the soft sounds he tries to hide. Your hand pumps up and down, twisting at the wrist.
You wonder how often he’s done this on himself, who he imagined between his legs.
From now, it’ll be you. You’ll make sure of it.
“Um, right, so,” Matty starts, out of breath. “In some reactions,” he continues arduously, “one substrate is broken down into multiple products. And—” Devilishly, you lick a stripe up his length. He groans, twitching on your tongue. “Shit,” he mutters. It’s funny coming from him; the swear rings wrong, like a costume.
He drags his stare down, pulling away from his notes to watch you. You indulge him, parting your lips and wrapping them around his tip. You suck on it gently. His face wrinkles, a moan breaking from him. You pull your head down, swallowing him. He clutches at his papers, scrunching them himself.
“Oh, God,” Matty says, trying to catch his breath as you bob your head. “I’m— Shit.”
You let go of him with a wet pop, stroking him quickly. “Shh,” you tease him. “My parents.” Again, he throws a nervous look towards the door.
Saliva and lipgloss and precum already lube him, but you keep your hand at his base as you spit on his cock. You drag it down his length. Matty’s eyes snap towards you. “Do that again.” He wants to see you.
You smirk, tilting your head to leave wet kisses up his cock, then lick his tip. You spit on it, and a low groan resonates from him. His hips rise up into your hand, but you push them down with your claws.
“Fuck,” he whimpers from the back of his throat, melting on the chair. He likes it messy. You grin, peppering little kisses over his cock, smearing him in strawberry lipgloss.
“What’s the other thing?”
“Huh?” He blinks, tying himself back to reality. “Right, um, substrates. It’s—” Again, you choose this moment to push him down your throat. He loses speech, mumbling incoherent syllables, some broken version of your name.
Though your head bobs quickly, pulling further and further down his length, twisting a stroking hand all the same, you pinch your nails at his hip. He jumps, struck out of the daze of pleasure, blinking down at you.
“Yeah, it’s— The other reactions are—” You let go of his hip, pinching your own nipple instead. Matty whines, losing his train of thought. “You’re not being fair.”
You laugh, spitting him out to catch your breath. You grope yourself and he watches, not sure which hand to focus on. His cheeks are tinted red, maybe from effort, or adrenaline, or shyness. It’s cute enough to bite.
Wonder shines in his eyes. He can’t believe this is happening; he’s eternally grateful, as he should be. As they all should have been, those faceless men you’ve blown in the bathrooms of parties for attention and a momentary stop to complete boredom. They stayed quiet, almost afraid to make noise, to show they enjoyed it, until they shook and spilled inside your mouth. Matty’s not afraid to moan.
Your brain rushes, sticky happy. You pant on his cock, trailing a finger down your stomach, then dipping in your shorts. Matty’s eyes widen, straightening to catch a glimpse. You smile, catching a pool of your arousal.
You come back up, fingers sticky and wet with your slick, and smear it on his cock. Matty scrunches his face, whimpering, shaking under your hands.
“You’re trying to kill me.”
“Only because it’s easy,” you mock, jerking and twisting your two hands in rhythm, wet sounds ringing in the room.
You free his cock, gripping the armrests of the chair instead. You wrap your mouth around it, and bend down until your nose touches the faint smatterings of dark hair on his belly. You gag on him, and he strangles the edge of the desk trying to kill his moans.
You pump him in your mouth quickly, feeling him twitch and rise to meet you. He remembers himself, falling down on the chair dutifully, not even burying a needy hand in your hair, as though afraid that would be asking for too much.
You drag up, making him hit the inside of your cheek, before releasing him. You spit the precum on him, blinking up through teary eyes. He doesn’t have any words, red swollen lip bitten raw.
“I taste great,” you say, and then offer up your still-wet fingers to him. He’s eager, sucking them into his mouth. He bobs, imitating you, and the sight and feel makes hot desire drip inside of you.
You want to squeeze him until he pops.
You take his hand, pulling it into your hair. He grips instinctively, pushing it out of your face. “Don’t push,” you warn, serious. He nods frantically, and you trust him to mean it.
You take him into your mouth for what you know is the final time. You’re certain he won’t last long, droopy and moaning and twitching, hissing every time your tongue runs on him. You bob with skill and precision still. He tugs at your hair, both hands in now, trembling in the mess of it. He never pushes, or fucks his hips up; trusts you to undo him yourself.
He swears and curses and whimpers, head falling down and back, vacillating between the sky and your red, puffy face. The sink is heard from faraway, but you don’t think he can even hear it.
“I'm dreaming,” he whispers to himself, sounding wild. “I’m gonna wake up. I’m gonna be— I’m gonna—” Matty cries, slapping a hand over his mouth, and comes down your throat. He shakes, loud moans hidden in his palm, eyes shut and forehead wrinkled.
He lets go of your hair with a fucked-out sigh, panting. His eyes never leave you, disbelief written all over it. You pull him out of your throat, and smile at him.
You’re about to swallow when he touches your arm, unsure of where he’s allowed to now. “Wait, can you—” He grows embarrassed, blushing. “Can you open your mouth?”
You part your lips, showing off his white cum still sitting on your tongue. He whimpers at the sight, fingers digging into your arm. His breathing turns irregular, cheeks reddening, eyes darkening. He’s so strange.
Still, you stick your tongue out, putting his load in evidence, making a spectacle of it. He looks tortured, enthralled.
You stay long enough that you feel it run down, long white rope hanging from your tongue, then dropping on your breast.
“Fuck,” Matty whispers to himself. Seemingly without thinking, he runs his thumb on your breast, catching his cum and sucking it between his lips.
You smile, slurping the cum back into your mouth, and swallowing it. You flash your red tongue at him. “All clean.”
“Thank you,” Matty says. “I— I’m not sure why you did that, but— I, you know, appreciate it.” He’s so polite. You’d laugh if he wouldn’t snap back into that little head box of his.
“I’m very thankful for all those lessons,” you wink.
“No, you’re not.”
“No, I’m not.” Matty’s finger rubs the skin of your arm, that strangely tough callus, and it has you leaning into his touch. “Though, this has been my favorite lesson.”
“God, I couldn’t even get a word out.”
“Hence why.”
Matty snorts and he offers you a hand. You grab it to manœuvre out from under the desk. You push your sweaty hair out of your face, then wipe the leftover stickiness from your breasts.
Matty, of course, follows the movement to your tits. He swallows. “Do you, um,” he pushes his glasses up. “Do you want, like, something back?”
You arch an eyebrow, incapable of holding a small giggle this time. “Do you know how?”
He stares into your eyes. “I could try.”
And, again, there’s just something about his eagerness, his willingness, his open devotion, that has you saying, “Yeah, I guess you could try.”
You tiptoe to your bedroom door, looking left and right into the hallway, before quietly shutting it. You turn around to a displeased Matty. “Oh, so you get to have it closed?”
“‘S more fun when you’re struggling,” you shrug, devilish. You run to the bed, falling on the pillows, fluttering your eyelashes at him. “Come here, pretty boy.” He practically trips out of his chair to find you. He’s three steps in when you stop him. “Take your clothes off.”
He grows shy under your gaze. Staying in place, fingers shaking, he starts to unbutton his plaid shirt. He kicks off his sneakers and his baggy jeans until he stands there in his boxers. He’s as scrawny as you imagined him to be. You smile.
Matty crosses his arms. “Can I see you, too?” He whispers.
You shimmy your shorts off your legs and throw it beyond the bed. Matty’s stare stutters on your pink thong, wet patch where your desire pooled.
You draw a hand towards him and he takes it, falling over you on the bed. He doesn’t waste time, giving you a sloppy kiss before mouthing at your neck, your collarbones, your tits. He laps at them first and you wonder if he’s trying to get the last lingering taste of his cum. He catches a nipple next and sucks it.
Gaspy moans leave your lips. You part your legs instinctively and he buries between them, already hardening. His cock hits your thigh and he sucks and pinches and plays until you start thinking he might really be able to try.
Your hands descend down his back, freckled under your nails. You grip his small waist, pushing at his hip, the hem of his boxers. Matty understands, leaving you long enough to kick them off. He pants in front of you, leaning back already, wet, swollen mouth parted.
Matty lays over you again and his hard cock presses into your need. You scratch your nails up his back and he jerks, bucking into you. A moan leaves both your mouths. He tries again, artless, just off your clit.
“Oh,” he whispers, mostly to himself. He does it again, building and building heat inside of you, yet never relieving.
You huff. You sneak a hand between your bodies, moving your thong aside until he slips under it.
Another boy would have taken the opportunity, would have buried inside before you even had time to nod, but Matty doesn’t even think of it.
He humps your wet cunt, tucked tight under your underwear, hem pressing his length. Matty moans every time, quickening, desperate. He tilts his hand to better see as his cock bulges the cloth, a wet patch forming where his precum stains.
“Fuck.”
And it’s better; he’s faster, and firmer, and mostly there. He follows your little puffs of shameful breaths, staying where they transform into slack moans. Pleasure starts waking up inside your belly, sickly warm.
But you’ve had boys hump at you before, had them bucking between your legs. You know it’s not what will get you off. You need your mind stimulated, to be so thoroughly hot and desperate you finally let yourself go.
You pinch the nape of his neck, making him look at you. A slack, messy smirk lays on your lips. You tease, “Have you ever thought of me during our tutoring sessions?”
Matty’s hips stutter. He looks away. “Like…”
“Yeah, like, on my knees.”
Matty blushes. “Well, yeah.”
You grin, too pleased. A deadly smile, hunting. “When?”
“I don’t know…” He mutters. You scowl to yourself, and maybe he senses that, because his chin grazes your shoulder and he admits shamefully, “When you ate that popsicle. And you licked and you slurped and you sucked and, just— I’m a guy. I had visions.”
“I had visions.” You imitate, mocking. You tsk, “You're such a nerd.” You roll your hips back against him and a whimper buries in the skin of your shoulder. “Was it how you imagined?”
“Better.” He nods fervently. “So much fucking better. I actually died, I think. Still unsure whether I’m dead or not.” Pride and power makes your head loose, makes pleasure ripple through your flesh.
You claw at his skin, warning dangerously, “Tell anyone and you will be.” All it does is make him moan, bucking faster against you. Your toes curl. You breathe in his ear, “Tell me more.”
“I, uh— Shit.” The tip of his cock burrows in your underwear as he slides, wet and slick from you. He shivers over you. “I’d think about— bending you over the desk.”
Your smile ghosts your face, grazing his soft, fresh cheek. “Really?”
“Just, you know, when you wouldn’t listen. And you’d pop that chewing gum, and you’d ignore me, and you’d be mean.”
You smirk, clicking your tongue. “So you wanted to, what, toughen me up? Take your revenge?”
His cheeks redden. “No.” His lips brush your shoulders, and he kisses, opposite. “I don’t know. I wanted you to pay attention.” He licks your neck. “I wanted to make you scream.” Mouths at your jaw. “I wanted to fuck you. Or for you to fuck me— I wanted you.”
You can’t believe you’re now the one blushing. You pant, glad he’s buried in your throat, that he can’t see. A moan slips from you as he nips gently at your skin. Your eyes roll in your skull.
“You like when I’m mean to you?” You tease meanly, out of breath. You scratch his back, burying your hand in his hair, and tugging until he looks you in the eyes. “Gets you all bothered?”
Matty shivers, whining, “Fuck, please—”
You push him onto his back, rolling over. Two hands press into his chest, and you might very well concave his ribcage. You stare him down, divine. “You wanted me to fuck you?”
His messy, unbrushed hair falls around his head like a halo. He’s sweet enough to make your head spin. He watches you openly behind the glass of his specs, breathing, “Yes.”
You trail your fingernails on his hard cock, down to his base. “And now?”
Devoting, “Yes.”
A rush of thrill fills you. You kneel up, shimmying your underwear off. Matty gasps at the sight, raking a hungry gaze up and down your body. He holds the sheets of your bed with white-knuckled fingers.
You waste no time, rocking your cunt against his tip once, twice, before slowly lowering yourself on him. You inhale at the stretch. Matty’s eyes shut, whining. “Look at me,” you order, and he listens.
His eyes flash open. He blinks at you as you bottom out. His head rolls, shaking. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” You go to move up, but he holds your hip down. He takes deep breaths. “Can we— Just, this is—”
“It’s okay,” you whisper, taking his hand and placing it over the regular beating of your heart. He thumbs your nipple while he’s there, breathing in sync with your pulse. You slowly roll your hips on him.
Matty moans, gripping the flesh of your thigh. You let him adjust to the feel of it, rocking softly, dragging your clit on his pelvis. You bite your lip raw as pleasure blooms inside of you. Your thighs ache to go faster, harder, but you maintain the delicate pace for him. Just that has him shaking under you, and you once again grip his hand over your heart to ground him.
“Sorry,” he says with an embarrassed laugh. “Fuck,” is immediately added when you circle your hips, his eyes rolling. “Fuck, sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” you order. “What are the other reactions?” You say, attempting to drag him out of his anxiety-filled head. He frowns at you. “Of enzymes.”
His lips part. “I didn’t know you knew that term.”
You roll your eyes, then your hips, euphoria fizzling under your skin. “I listen to you.” His unconvinced look betrays him. “Sometimes.”
“They’re, um— Shit. They come together to create one— fuck, one larger molecule or—” You finally rock faster, angling your hips to have him bury inside you right where you need him. You moan, chest rising and falling quickly. Your legs grow desperate; you chase that sickly pleasure.
“Yeah?” You encourage him on, seeing his own pleasure resonate in his face. He bites his lip, pawing uselessly at your thigh. “Or?” You’re out of breath.
“Or swap pieces,” he finally finishes between two moans. Chuckles, “Actually, pretty much all biological reactions you can think of probably—” Your hips fall harsher on him and he loses his train of thought, overwhelmed. You smile, setting a wild pace, completely unfair.
“Probably what?” You say, teasing, “I’m always thinking about biological reactions.”
“Don’t tease,” he pouts, and you slow down your thrusts just to spite him. He whines, pressing his short fingernails into the skin of your thigh.
“Come on.” You make him look you in the eyes, mocking, “Educate me.”
“They all have enzymes,” Matty finally finishes. You reward him by reaching down and pinching his nipple. He whimpers, cursing your name. “Why have you suddenly decided to be a good student?”
“‘Cause you’re adorable when you’re struggling to find words,” you answer honestly. You hold your weight up on the hand pressed into his chest, angling your hips until your clit rubs and rubs his pelvis. Your eyes roll, fucking him quicker. “Fuck. I love when I can make you all stupid for me.” The power in changing up his DNA composition, making a smart boy incapable of remembering all the jargon you yourself don’t know, is addictive. Undoing him block by block until he’s putty in your hands. Matty just moans, not arguing.
Sweat pearls his forehead. The white sheets make him angelic. He breathes your name, fluttering his eyelashes at you. “Can I try on top?” Maybe it’s because he looks so reverent, so innocent, that you nod.
Matty doesn’t push you and roll you over, instead staying there, as though waiting for it to just magically happen. You giggle to yourself, unmounting him and falling back on the mattress, legs parted. He swallows thickly, laying over you.
His glasses fall down his nose and you laugh, grabbing them and carefully placing them on your nightstand. He blinks, adjusting to the blurry sight.
His hand shakes as he grabs himself and lines up. He misses once, twice, until you rest a soothing hand on his and guide him. Matty moans in your hair as he slides in. He stays in your wet heat for a second, catching his breath, before he thrusts.
And it’s bad, of course. He doesn’t have any rhythm, bucking blindly inside of you. It’s a strange pace, irregular and powerless. He certainly can’t find any type of mindnumbing spot. Pleasure simmers lowly in your belly, heat turned off almost to nothing if it weren’t for the pretty moans that bury straight in your ear.
You grab his hip, making Matty look at you. “Start slow,” you instruct, guiding him. He follows the movements of your hand, rocking back and forth, slow but regular. “There,” you nod, arching your back. “Just, tilt—” He repositions himself, eager to learn, and you shudder. You call his name, syrupy with moans.
He’s a fast learner, following diligently the guidings of your gripping hand. He fucks into you slowly, but surely. Your toes curl. Pleasure wakes up again, coiling in your belly. “Like this?” He breathes. You nod, encouraging him on.
“It’s like I’m tutoring you,” you remark, chuckling to yourself. Matty snorts. “I like being the smart one for once.”
Matty frowns. “You’re always smart.” He says it without thinking, because he means it. Something wet chokes your throat, tugs at your lips. “You just don’t listen.”
“Would you like me to?” You say, tone taunting. A self-destroying instinct, telling you to hurt, to ruin. “Make me your little pet? Be all obedient? Have me sucking your cock while you tell me all about biology?”
His eyebrows furrow. “Do you want me to do that?” All your bullets don’t land. He’s unconcerned on what he wants. You huff.
Instead of reckoning, you order, “Faster, now.” Matty nods against your cheek. He obeys, thrusting quicker. You let go of his hip, climbing up his back just to rake your nails down it. His hips snap faster, harsher, endeavored. You grin, licking his jaw, kissing the bone.
“Fuck,” he whimpers, catching your lips and kissing you. You wrap your arms around his neck, trapping him there as he ruts between your legs. You swallow all the sounds he makes, kill the swears you think of saying. Euphoria washes you.
He leaves your lips just to smack wet kisses over your face, again and again. On your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids, your chin. He mouths down your throat, starts sucking and nipping at the side. You bury a hand into his hair, pushing him further down. “Not the neck,” you explain, breathy.
Matty finds the side of your tits and he buries there, sucking at your skin. You arch into his mouth, pleasure rushing up your side at the pinpricks of pain. He moans against you, bucking faster. Your mind spins and spins. “Matty.” Again, he speeds up, harsh and wild. “Fucking hell, Matty.”
You tug at his hair and he releases you, lips wet and swollen. He pants over you, eyes dazed with pleasure. A new wave of heat strikes you just from the sight of him, unmade and wild. You sneak a hand between your bodies. You find your clit easily, rubbing.
Matty’s head drops to watch you. He whines, seeing where he disappears inside of you, over and over, where your pink nails swipe at you.
He leans his weight on one arm, joining his own hand with yours. You’re surprised at the act, at the willingness of involving himself in the complicated business of your pleasure. Your fingers stop, resting up on your stomach.
He paws blindly at your cunt, just a little off where you need him. You grip his wrist, angling him at the right place, gently circling and swiping with his finger. The callus presses on your clit and it’s a delicious sensation. You roll your eyes, crying out, then slapping your palm over your mouth. Matty grins proudly, continuing to rub at you.
“This is good, right?” He whispers, pretty eyes all vulnerable on you.
You nod frantically. “Yes. It’s good.” You melt on the sheets, parting your legs further. “It’s really good.” His cheeks flush at the compliment. You wrap your hand around his throat, resting there with silent ownership. “Did you ever think it’d be me?”
Matty chokes on a laugh and a moan. “No. I never thought you’d ever even give me a look.”
You hum, pleased with the answer. He realizes it’s a privilege. You grin, pressing your fingers on the sides of his neck. His hips stutter, then snap even faster, a broken cry leaving him. His lips part in quiet ecstasy. His eyes shut, rapid movement behind his eyelids.
You grin at him. “Say thank you, pretty boy.”
You release him, at least giving him a chance. He falls into your shoulder, taking deep inhales, shaking. “Thank you,” he says, mumbly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You rake through his hair, soothing. “Aw, fuck, I’m gonna—” He twitches inside of you.
“Not inside!” You shout. Matty gasps, thrusting out of you. He cries as he comes on your navel and cunt. He catches his breath, blinking himself back to this reality, still shaking.
“Sorry,” he says, shortwinded. A pang of disappointment hits you. It’s not like you’ve ever come with someone else before, but it had felt really close this time.
At least Matty tried.
Matty watches his cum painted over your skin, catching your piercing, mixing with the slick of your cunt. He moans to himself, then bends down between your thighs.
You rest on your elbows, frowning. “What—” He licks a stripe over your cunt, tasting both your juices. Euphoria strikes through you. Your back hits the mattress as you fall back, legs shaking. “Matty.” He hums, faraway, licking and licking to clean you all up. You bury a hand in his hair, grounding him in place.
He finds your clit, rubbing it with the tip of his tongue, circling then sucking it. You jolt on the bed, biting back a scream. You frown to yourself, tugging on his hair, fire boiling inside your stomach. What the fuck.
He laps at you, moaning every time your nails scratch his scalp, the sound vibrating against you. A hand wraps around your thigh, keeping you open for him. He devours you eagerly, hungrily, until you’re a mess melting into his mouth.
“God, Matty,” you cry. You have to actually hold back another one with a slap of your hand, shocked at yourself as you scream into your palm.
Matty stops, breathing harshly, and you throw a glance down in question. He climbs up your stomach, lapping at your skin, cleaning the last of his cum. You whimper at the dirty sight, desire drumming down your limbs.
He throws you a hot look. Tongue out, full of white cum. He goes back between your legs and buries it in your cunt, fucking it in. You jump, cursing to the ceiling. Matty laughs, greedily tasting you.
You roll your hips into his face, hitting the tip of his nose on your clit. Every strike has ecstasy resonating in your bones. You feel light on your bones.
His lips wrap around your clit. He sucks, grazing a tongue, swiping and circling like you showed him. You recognize the same pattern, recognize the rhythm. Of course he’s a fast learner.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, choked by your hand. You raise your hips into his mouth, silently begging. Your legs shake, desperate. Pressure pushes at your belly. Your eyes roll. “Don’t stop.”
He mumbles something in your cunt, probably a promise or a praise, dutifully not stopping. He laps and eats and fucks until your brain melts into your skull, dripping down your spine.
“Oh, fuck, I’m—” Your head shakes fervently. “Just stay— Shit, Matty, just— I—” The pressure snaps and you come on his readied tongue, screaming. Hot white flashes in your vision. Relief washes you, dipping to every crevices, relaxing you. He moans against your cunt.
Matty continues to lick you, mission-bound, until your lungs are on fire and you physically push him away. He smiles up at you, chin sticky and wet and red. He wipes it, kneeling.
“Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” You say, shortwinded, shocked to your bones. You stare at him like he’s grown a second head.
It’s the first time someone other than your knowing hand made you come. And it’s fucking Matty Healy. You blink at him.
“What?” He laughs, falling beside you on the bed.
You gesture vaguely downwards. “That.”
“Oh,” he blushes. Shrugs. “I don’t know. I researched it once.”
“You— Oh, my God.” You stare at the ceiling in disbelief. “Oh, my God. You’re such a nerd.”
Matty grins, cheekily proud. He gently grazes the bruise he left on your breast, the splotch of red that will darken, be a leftover trace of him.
“Thanks,” he says simply.
“You’re welcome.” You shift your legs, feeling the wetness still between them. “Thanks to you too, I guess.” He grins, hiding in the white pillows.
He gives you a look. “Will you listen when I tutor you now?”
You smirk mischievously. “Maybe if you have my fingers in your mouth.”
“Oh,” Matty says, eyes wide. “Will you— Will this happen again?”
You make a noncommittal shrug, though a more definite answer hums in your heart. “Maybe if you’re really good.” You smile to yourself. “Or really boring, and I need to shut you up.”
“You can shut me up any day.”
“I know.” You linger in that moment for just a second more, eyes locked together, smiles tickling your lips. Then you sit up, reaching for your underwear. “Session’s almost done.”
Matty nods, lips thin. “Right.” He pats the nightstand for his glasses.
You dress yourselves, wiping away sweat and cum, brushing wild strands. You give an awkward goodbye, incertain, and Matty slips from the room. You don’t follow him to the door. You never do.
Downstairs, you hear your parents thank him and give him a crisp 50 dollar bill. You giggle to yourself and fall on the bed, bone-deep exhausted.
#happy Day after me show day<33#tutor!au#matty healy x reader#matty healy smut#matty healy#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fic#matty healy imagine#the 1975 smut#the 1975 fic#smut#writing#imagine
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hi lina it’s been a while haha happy 5 year anniversary!!! i hope you’ve been well! for your 5 year anniversary game, i would like to request seonghwa aka the readers classmate who never comes with his materials, yet he somehow gets everything right and the reader lowkey hates his guts, but that all changes when he suddenly becomes the readers tutor - peony
peony!!!! it's so good to hear from you <3 <3 thanks for this request, hope you enjoy what I've written for it :)
5 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/TXT/Golden Child/Ateez/The Boyz member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!
REQUESTS OPEN!!
~
Title: What Used To Be (Not What Is Now)
Pairing: Seonghwa x gender neutral!reader
Word count: 548
Warnings: n/a
~
“You know, I kind of used to hate you.”
To your surprise, Seonghwa doesn’t look phased in the slightest. “I know.”
You look down at your joined hands, then up at his handsome face illuminated by the golden sunset. Your voice feels very small when you ask, “How?”
“It was kind of obvious.” He looks at you, and the amused smile on his face sets a wave of relief and embarrassment washing through your mind. “No offense, but you weren’t really good at hiding it.”
“... Damn.”
“Well, it was only in relation to other people,” Seonghwa amends. “You never treated me badly, per se, but you were a lot nicer to other people than you were to me.”
That mollifies you a little. At least you were never outwardly rude to him. You don’t remember that sort of incident ever occurring, so it’s a relief that Seonghwa doesn’t either. Still, you feel the need to apologize. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” His smile turns a little sheepish. “I mean, I get the frustration. I didn’t look like the best student then, and I know you studied really hard.”
Your lips twist, slightly bitter. “Well, you know academic validation was always my sweetheart back then.”
Seonghwa squeezes your hand, and with it squeezes a little of the bitterness out of your expression. The rooftop wind tussles with his hair and you fight the urge to run your fingers through it before remember you don’t need to muffle that urge anymore.
Not for the first time, as you comb his hair neatly to the side, you wonder how you could’ve hated anyone with so sweet a face, so lovely a smile. Your chest squeezes with guilt.
It’s like Seonghwa knows this without you even saying a word, though, because he kisses your forehead lightly. “It’s fine,” he says, still smiling. “I mean, I didn’t exactly like you either.”
You frown. “Oh. Why?”
“Well, because you didn’t like me.”
Duh. You’re an idiot. You groan, burying your face in his shoulder. “Kill me now,” you mutter into his shirt.
“Look, I’m not going to deny you were kind of a bratty high schooler.” Seonghwa pulls you out of his shoulder, then pokes your forehead. Ignoring your yelp, he continues. “But it’s not something to obsess about now. We were both bratty idiots then. Everyone is, at that age.”
“Some more than others,” you mutter. “Anyway, it’s not just that - it’s the fact that you were working so hard, and I just... assumed you were getting everything handed to you on a silver platter up until you started helping me with music theory. It’s embarrassing.”
“Shows growth,” Seonghwa replies. “If you think you were embarrassing then, at least that means you learned something.”
You make an unintelligible noise that makes Seonghwa laugh, then lean into him to go back to watching the sunset. He puts his head on top of yours, and you reach up to pat his hair softly. For a few minutes, you stay in silence, watching the golden rays of the sun slowly sink below the horizon.
“Glad we got over that phase of hating each other,” Seonghwa eventually murmurs. “It’s much nicer like this.”
Snuggling closer into his side, you smile in agreement. “Yeah, it really is.”
#ateez#atz#seonghwa#park seonghwa#ateez seonghwa#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez oneshots#ateez seonghwa scenarios#ateez seonghwa oneshots#ateez seonghwa imagines#ateez x reader#ateez seonghwa x reader#seonghwa x reader#park seonghwa x reader#drabble#fluff#tutor!au#what used to be (not what is now)#5 year anniversary drabble game#lina answers#peony 🌸#blossom-hwa
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Sex Tutor
Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
“So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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Tutoring Sessions
MODERN!AEMOND X FEM!READER | SMUT
Warning ⚠️: minors dni, sexual scenes, slight bdsm.
A/n : This is the full length smut for two other tutor Aemond drabbles I had written previously. You can read this on its own or you can read those drabbles before reading this. Also, I didn't get to proofread it, so please forgive any mistakes if found.
Link for PART 1 & PART 2.
@letmeloveyouuuu
Hope you like it ! 💜
Deep breaths.
Take in deep steady breaths.
You kept repeating the instructions in your head as you walked over to your room with him tailing behind.
It had been weeks now since Aemond had started tutoring you; and weeks since you've been feeling the burning heat between your legs.
You prayed to God he wouldn't notice the slight tremble in your legs as you pulled your seat back.
You stood there staring at him as he took his own seat. Your eyes were trained on his every little movement. By now you knew by heart how the first few moments would unfold.
You recited the actions in your mind beforehand as he did his little routine.
First he would pull off the black hair tie off his left wrist with his teeth.
Then he would put his long snow hair back in a careless bun. His arms flexing subtly, as he would take the tie off his mouth to secure the bun.
He would crack his knuckles while stretching, making every vein of his strain on his muscles seductively.
And then finally he would bring out a pen from his pocket and recline in the chair, with his legs spread wide and would look at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for you to show your homework.
"Well? You're gonna sit or what?"
The deep voice snapped you out of your daze and you realised you were gawking at him while still standing behind your chair like a fool.
You felt your face heat up as you scrambled to sit down, mentally cussing yourself for behaving like a clutz.
Aemond shifted his gaze back to the books spread across the table and began to look at your work.
Did he not notice?
You didn't know whether to feel relieved or dissapointed.
After weeks of lusting over your tutor in silence you finally decided to make a bold move.
That day you 'forgot' to wear your bra beneath your cute baby pink t-shirt, which sat tight across chest.
But seeing as how Aemond didn't even spare a glance at your body, you surmised he must've not noticed it yet.
You still had hope to catch his attention though.
You leaned forward, pushing your your tits together, to look at your notebook that he was currently checking.
You deliberately shifted close enough to let your breath fan his arm softly as he checked your work.
You looked back at his face, hard with concentration. The deep rumbles as he hummed to each correct answer, made you feel lightheaded. It was a wonder how you hadn't moaned out loud yet.
Dejectedly you spent the next half an hour working on math problems.
Does he really have no interest in me ?
You thought to yourself.
You decided to try again . Your hand slipped purposefully and dropped the pen you were holding, which rolled right between Aemond's legs.
The fates must've been on your side.
While whispering a soft 'oops sorry' you get down on your knees and lean slowly and deliberately between his legs with extra care to push your shorts clad ass in the air. You didn't dare look at him but you fantasized the kind of expression you would want on him.
Letting a slow sigh you stretched forward to retrieve your pen, but a sharp tug on your hair made you stop.
You felt your head being pulled backwards by a firm but gentle grip.
"Hmm" he said with a soft smirk, eye glittering with amusement. "Now that's enough kitten."
You gulped as you were forced to look up at him, feeling like a child caught in mischief.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aemond felt air getting knocked out of his body when the door opened to reveal you.
His eye immediately fixated on your chest. Your tshirt was sitting tight over your perky breasts, with nothing in between the flimsy cloth and your skin.
He never expected such a meek creature as you to make such a move.
He noticed your deep blush and avoiding gaze and chuckled internally.
Teaching you every time was a torture for him. Not that you were a bad student, infact your performance was more than satisfactory.
What drove him mad was how he seemed to be losing his senses whenever he was around you.
Aemond had always led a disciplined life with a strict moral sense. But when it came to you, the dam of discipline he had created to keep his beast self inside, seemed to be at it's bursting point.
He had managed to hold himself back thinking he would let the dam finally burst upon you, but only after your exams, when he wouldn't tutor you anymore. He thought he had been managing well until that day.
The sight of your half exposed asscheeks swaying infront of him; your tied up hair revealing your neck, the jiggle in your tits every time you leaned forward towards him and the sight of the pebbled nipples through your flimsy tshirt drove him absolutely feral.
He could see you were trying hard to catch his eye. Your little pouts of dissapointment at his lack of response made him want to snatch you up on his lap and kiss the life out of you.
But he wouldn't give in that easily.
Or so he thought.
The moment you crouched between his legs, deliberately swaying your ass right up at him, was when he had had enough. There was no way he could hold back after that stunt.
Before he could even gather his thoughts, his hand shot out to grab your hair and pulled it back.
"Now that's enough kitten."
"Tsk tsk tsk" he tutted playfully, still holding your head in place. " You've been very distracted today have you not?"
You just avoided his gaze in response. You felt fear , or was it thrill rushing through your veins?
You had wanted this exactly, had you not? So then why did your mouth go dry at being caught?
"Words." He said sternly.
"Y-yes."
You didn't know. You didn't know whether you were scared or excited. But all you knew was you wanted his skin on yours.
"Hmm." That was all he said. You expected him to tell you off but he just stared at you with an expression you recognised as intense lust. You followed his eye which left burning trails on your body wherever it gazed upon.
He slowly stood up, your head still held captive by him jerked backwards at the movement.
He tugged at your hair, gesturing you to rise and so you did.
Standing so close to him, made you see him in entirely different light. You could see every detail of his handsome face and you could hear him breath.
Wordlessly he made you turn around to face the desk.
You were confused but you let him take the lead.
"Solve."
Wait what? Wasn't this the part where the racy stuff should begin? What did he mean by solve?
You looked back up at him and blinked in utter confusion. He raised his eyebrow by a millimetre, as if to say " You heard me."
"Excuse me?"
" I'm not going to repeat myself." The threat to not try his patience was evident in his voice. You dared not to challenge him, so you turned to the open textbooks with math problems and begrudgingly started to solve them.
Your pen halted as you felt a masculine hand snake up at your waist and other at the small of your back.
You felt him bending your body slowly with grace. Your breath hitched at his hand grazing your half exposed bottom.
"I didn't tell you stop. Continue."
Was he serious? You wondered to yourself. But deciding to not cross him, you tried hard to focus back on the math problem.
Your hands trembled as you felt him feeling up your ass. A sharp gasp escaped you when you felt him pulling your short up, wedging them between your legs. You felt cold air brush against your exposed skin.
You tried to turn your head back to look at him but before you could, his hand shot up to hold your head in place , facing the notebook.
Your thoughts were just a haze at this point. Your laboured breaths were all that could be heard in your room. You pressed your legs together desperately to subside the throbbing of your cunt.
"Wrong." His deep voice announced before you felt a sharp sound of skin slapping on skin, and moment later the pain washed over you like ice cold water. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream as you tried to gasp for the air that escaped you.
Before you could question him about it, another ringing smack on your ass made you cry out loud this time.
A third one. And then a fourth.
You realised you had solved the question wrong.
By then you couldn't even support yourself up, and laid your head down on the desk.
A single tear escaped you. It hurt but with the depraved moans escaping your mouth on each spank, you realised you were loving every second of it.
He stopped after what seemed like eternity. Your ass was raw and burning hot.
You felt him bend himself over you until his face was inches above yours. He swept your hair aside and whispered in your ear, " You knew you needed that didn't you kitten?".
You could only whimper in response, to which he chuckled.
You felt a bit annoyed at his humor, and snapped, or at least tried to be as snappy as someone who just got spanked could be, " It hurts you know? Could've given me a warning."
"Hmm" he said while taking your earlobe between his teeth to nibble sensually.
His hand creeped between your ass to rest at your pussy. "For someone so pissed, this pussy seems to be awfully wet. It'll be dripping down your thighs any moment."
You moaned loudly as his long fingers slipped beneath the bunched up shorts and slid smoothly over your wet folds.
He sucked your earlobe all while playing with your swollen clit.
" You know what?" He finally let go of your ear. "You can't focus on your studies like that. I can see your pretty little head is full of filth. I'll need to fuck it out of you, right kitten?" He purred in a patronizing tone.
" Mm yes." You barely manage to get it out between your moans.
His fingers stopped dead. " Yes what?"
" Y-yes please Sir." You cried out at the lack of pressure on your needy cunt.
Instead of resuming he withdrew completely, but only to pull down your short and panties at one swift move.
You straighten up from the desk , but he quickly pushed you back down.
You thought maybe this was it, maybe he'll put it in now. But no. You peeped behind you to see he had sunk on his knees, with his face placed directly behind your ass.
The cool sensation of his breath hitting the wetness of your pussy made you shiver.
Aemond sat still for a few seconds, admiring the view laid out in front of him. The plump ass was now raw and red , thanks to him. Proud of his work, he started to run his lips along the angry red handprints across you soft skin.
Your hands reached back in embarrassment, to pull him away from burying his face in your ass. Aemond just held both of your wrists in one of his hands and bit your asscheek harshly, as if to give a warning.
He parted your legs with his knee, to get better access. The bundle of shorts that now looked at your ankles, restrained you from opening up anymore.
Aemond didn't waste a second and started to lap up your dripping juices like a hungry dog. His tongue exploring every crevice of your cunt. Just as you felt him play with your swollen bud, you lost it.
Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, and as for your moans, you couldn't believe you were capable of creating sounds such as those.
You face lay flat against the open notebook, as you lost almost all your consciousness.
You came again and again , until you lost count, and just when you were at the brink of passing out he drew back.
If he hadn't been holding you in place , you would have slumped to the ground in a messy puddle of your own.
He turned you in his arms to face him, and the sight made your your whole body go flush. White liquid was glistening on his lips as well as nose; even his chin was a mess covered in your release.
You reached out to wipe it off, but decided better against it. Getting on your tiptoes, you reached up and licked right across his chin, tasting yourself on him.
Aemond smirked at your boldness, and pushed his head forward to gesture you to continue.
Taking encouragement from that you began licking every last drop of liquid from his face.
Deciding you were taking to long, Aemond hungrily took your lips between his and sucked on them hard. The kiss was urgent and a mess of both your overwhelming passion. It felt like a and aggressive fight but with lips. You fought hard but gradually gave out, letting him take the lead.
While still kissing you get sank back in the chair and forced you on your knees between his legs.
He was crouching to kiss you while holding your head with both hands.
He finally let you go; your lips now swollen red.
Just as he withdrew himself from you, you slumped over his lap.
You head laying right in front of his crotch.
Aemond took a moment to realise he was living his fantasy, and it was way better than he ever imagined.
Your messy hair falling across your half closed eyes, red lips ; t-shirt see through with sweat showing your cute tits, plump thighs smushed together. You were a mess and yet to him you looked divine, especially while between his legs.
He gently swiped his thumb across your bottom lip and tucked stray stands of hair behind your ear. Bending down he pressed a soft lasting kiss with utmost gentleness.
You were surprised by the contrast this kiss had with the last one. You looked up at him with a silent plea, to hold you. And he understood.
Strong arms wrapped around you and lifted you up on his lap with ease.
You laid your head on his shoulders to take in his sweaty but masculine scent.
Aemond slid his hand over his crotch to finally free it from restraint. His hard member pressed into your soft supple ass.
He swiped the tip around your skin a few times , loving the way your flesh engulfed him.
Slowly he slid into your still wet pussy. You groaned loudly at the pain that spread in you lower body. Aemond kissed your neck softly on reassurance.
He drew you head back so that you could look him in the eye, and you did. You felt a surge of emotions from him, which you couldn't really describe, but you let those emotions wash all over you.
Biting your lip you adjusted yourself around him , trying to familiarise the pain.
Aemond raised the sweat soaked t-shirt to rest them over your tits. He latched himself on the right nipple as you started to slowly ground your hips to his.
The pain gave way to pleasure, and soon all you wanted was for him to fully fill you up with himself.
You were plopping up and down on his length, as he hungrily sucked your breast.
You felt yourself growing weak as you neared your release, and your pace slowed down.
As if on cue, Aemond's hands snaked around your waist to bring you impossibly close to him as he started to pound upwards inside of you.
His steady pounding made your moans come out in a rhythm. Your head lolled back to the crook of his neck as he increased his pace to a lightning speed.
You felt a loud ringing in your ears as you felt yourself shake in his arms while cumming all over him and his pants.
Even after that Aemond kept his pace and fucked you with all his might till he successfully chased his own release.
Both of you laid on the same position for the few minutes, heaving heavily.
In your state of half sleep you felt him kiss your forehead as he laid you on your bed.
Before leaving he whispered into your ear, "We'll continue our lesson tomorrow, okay kitten?"
All you could do was let out a soft hmm in response.
#aemond targaryen#hotd#house of the dragon#ewan mitchell#aemond#aemond imagines#aemond fanfic#aemond smut#hotd smut#modern aemond smut#modern aemond#tutor au#aemond x fem!reader#modern aemond x reader#house of the dragon smut#aemond targaryen smut#smut#obsessed with aemond
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sekai au 👊😔
#my post#hatsune loopku.....#isat#in stars and time#isat siffrin#isat loop#I was SUPPOSED to make a modern au but look. where that got me#prpject sekai.....#hsatsune miku......#woaw.........#I haven't planned this yet. I just wanted to draw loop with Miku's pigtails really badly because I came up with the shape idea and went lik#ogguuguuuuGUG#oh bell yeas#actually well I have a little#small group of college students who met via tutor group (by odile) that turned into a book club and maybe band?#they would all suck playing instruments honestly#I made it a sekai au because I needed loop to go SOMEWHERE and went insane trying to figure something out till I finally went fuck whatever#fine#siffrin made a sekai and loop is there. fine. whatever. fine. yeah. fine#I don't know how the timeloop will come in.#I cant have both a timeloop and a sekai at once.#I would forget the other exists#and focus all on one#or it would be too much at once#also its kind of hard to do a timeloop like the one in-game in a modern way?#there's no good rocks to be crushed by that aren't like a collapsing building anyway#OH OH also this might be the last project sekai related art you see for a WHILE#this game hit my brain worse than project sekai I'm so serious#I've burned through almost all of my sketchbook and there are three(3) drawings that aren't siffrin#THREE.
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Ron: I love you so much, Blaise, it’s like we finish each other’s—
Blaise: Sentences?
Ron: No, homework
Blaise: What?
Ron, in tears, sliding his homework over to Blaise: Please
#blairon#blaise is ron’s tutor and stuff au#blaise zabini#ron weasley#ron x blaise#incorrect blairon quotes#incorrect harry potter quotes#ron weasley x blaise zabini#harry potter#daddiesdrarry on instagram#blaise x ron#blaise zabini x ron weasley#incorrect hp#hp#incorrect ron weasley quotes#incorrect blaise zabini quotes#hp text post#hp ships#hp incorrect quotes#hp imagine#incorrect hp quotes#hp rare pair#blairon squad
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Hello Vi! I have a request for you, only if it inspires
Tutor AU! With one or more of your fave suitors tutoring you for your upcoming exams;
Leonardo, Comte, Gilbert, Leon, Silvio and Clavis!
I'd love to see what you come up with ❤️❤️❤️
A/N: I had a very immediate idea for Comte so I went with him for this request!
Comte x Reader, Tutor AU/ Modern AU
WC: ~1.9k
The library looms large as you hurry up the wide, slate-colored steps under a sky exhaling its last breath of evening color. The stars are slowly blinking into existence, determined to shine before they are hidden behind the slow-moving blanket of clouds heading their way. You would pause to enjoy the ephemeral moment when dusk ebbs into night.....
Except Comte is inside, waiting for you.
You’re still not sure how it’s come to this. Comte as your tutor. Your mind travels back several weeks….
Several weeks ago:
One minute you're balancing an armful of books along with your backpack and several bags of uneven groceries that are seriously testing your stubborn decision to do it all in ONE trip. The next, however, everything is falling onto the polished grey tile floor of your building’s lobby, the objects seeming to leap like lemmings out of your arms. As you stand there, staring defeatedly at the scattered mess, lost in the gravity of your poor decision, the elevator doors you were originally trying to reach slide open and like the pearly gates unveiling an angel, Comte de St Germain steps out, in the process of buttoning his elegant camel-colored coat with one hand.
Before you can say a word, he takes in your forlorn expression, the embarrassing pile of your things at your feet, and he is by your side, kneeling, helping you gather up your stray apples and the mini-boxes of cereal you are probably way too old for but love anyway. Your cheeks flush as you stammer a thank you.
You know him more by reputation than actual acquaintance. He lives in the sprawling penthouse at the apex of your building, the crowning glory of the gothic structure, and is usually spoken about in whispers and sighs by the other residents:
“Comte? He’s a museum director downtown.”
“I hear he is a world-famous antique dealer who has made millions.”
“He’s gotta be a tech-millionaire with all that dough.”
“Well I know someone who knows someone who swears he’s a member of the royal family of some tiny European country.”
“I don’t care what he does. He’s got to be loaded to live up there.”
“I hear he’s never been married.”
“My cousin’s best friend’s neighbor's babysitter says he’s divorced from someone super famous.”
“You know what he is? I'll tell ya. Drop dead gorgeous.”
This mysterious man with eyes the color of desert sands is on the ground in his expensive suit and coat, helping you gather your plebeian things and oh, do you want to melt into the floor and disappear.
Until……
He stops, holding one of the books you had been juggling, a surprised expression crossing his classically beautiful face.
“‘The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire’ by Edward Gibbon. Fourth edition.” He seems impressed, curiosity flaring to life in the mesmerizing gold of his eyes.
And you take that lifeline, words stumbling over themselves across the knot of your tied tongue as you explain you are a graduate student, majoring in history, mentally preparing yourself for the avalanche of final exams heading your way.
And how he smiles, his long fingers tracing the embossed lettering along the spine of your book, borrowed from the local library. Entranced by the movement, you can't look away from his hand, reverence hushing his voice as he explains how he works for a museum (Points to the woman in Apartment 15B for getting that one), how he also studied history.
And then one thing leads to another and your rambling about the stress of your exams and crunch for time has evolved into Comte St. Germain, the mysterious Bruce Wayne of your building, offering to tutor you.
The Present:
And now here you stand, the night of your final session, heart prowling, turning circles in your chest like an unruly feline.
Taking a steadying breath, you continue up the steps and head inside, enjoying the sound of your heeled boots across the polished wooden floor. Past towering shelves filled with books you go until you reach the narrow iron staircase in the back, the one that spirals upwards to the second floor. Your feet follow the path they have gotten used to over the last few weeks, through the racks, down a narrow gangway until you reach the small cluster of tables at the western corner of the library, the ones underneath the imposing arched window that allows you a clear view of the darkening sky and the pale orange glow of the streetlamp across the street.
Comte looks up from the book he has been reading and offers you a smile, at once familiar and exotic.
“Ah, there you are, chérie. Ready for our final session?”
Something inside you constricts at the thought that this is the last time you will be here with him like this, tucked away in the surprising intimacy of a large public library, listening to his honeyed voice as you discuss not only history, but also the mundane: what music he listens to when he goes on long drives, his favorite type of wine, the best tea for a rainy Sunday morning. And it isn't just his speaking….Comte listens. He really listens when you talk, when you ask questions, when you give an opinion. He rests his chin on his hand, head tilted ever so slightly, his entire attention focused on you, whether you are explaining the fine points of one of the many Treaties of Paris or doing your best to convince him that dipping your French fries in your milkshake really does make them taste better.
With the glow of remembrance in your smile, you slide into the seat next to him, running your fingers along the soft grain of the elegant wooden chair as you settle in.
“Ready as I'll ever be,” you say, returning his smile while looking at the array of books he has spread out across the table. “Let’s do this.”
“Oui,” he says as his smile curves into a grin. “Tonight we’re focusing on art for your art history final. You already sent me the list of pieces your professor wants you to know for your exam so we can work our way through those.”
You breathe in, trying not to get distracted by the warm, earthy scent of his cologne.
“Professor Leonardo is great but it’s such a long list….” Your shoulders slump at the thought of tackling everything on it. And then you feel Comte’s hand there, on your forearm, warm even through the soft material of your blouse.
“Then let us begin.”
He spends hours, guiding you through Girl with the Pearl Earring, The Birth of Venus, Las Meninas, and Water Lillies. You wander through the great masters like an enamored visitor in an enchanted garden, listening as Comte helps you to remember what you have learned about the paintings as well as unlocking secrets you have never heard before. He leads you through the design of the Colosseum, the Parthenon, Hagia Sofia, Notre Dame, his voice a golden thread that spins you across the architectural wonders. And now, in your final hour of study, he opens the book of sculptures. You visit Rodin’s Thinker, Michelangelo’s David, the Venus de Milo. And finally, you come to the last sculpture on your list: Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss by Antonio Canova.
“Ah…” He pulls the book closer, the photograph of the sculpture filling the page. “This….is a masterpiece of….” He glances over at you, brow lifted as he waits for the answer.
“Neoclassicism…but with strong elements of the Romantic, given the subject matter.”
“Bien joué.” The praise falls from his lips softly, slides over you like melting wax, sends a jolt of heat across your skin. He doesn’t seem to notice as he flattens down the pages with both hands, his bright eyes roaming over the image.
“So you know the story of Cupid and Psyche?”
You try to remember what Professor Leonardo explained in class when he had introduced the sculpture. “She opened a forbidden jar and was put to sleep as punishment?”
Comte nods. “Venus forbid Psyche from opening the jar. It supposedly held Divine Beauty. Psyche could not resist temptation and instead of beauty, she was overcome by the Sleep of Innermost Darkness.” He grins slowly. “Very dramatic. Cupid sees his lover unconscious and pricks her with an arrow, awakening her. This sculpture captures that moment.”
Outside the library window, the streetlamp glows a soft orange. A light rain is now falling, making the light seem as if it is dancing, shimmering against the night.
“Just look at the lines,” he murmurs. He takes his index finger and slowly begins tracing the line of Psyche’s body. It follows the curve of her torso as she stretches up towards Cupid. “Her arms reach back for him.”
You lean in, closer to Comte, watching the path his finger makes along the glossy page. Your heart is suddenly hammering a woodpecker’s song against your breastbone.
“Her hands are in her lover’s hair, the gesture so familiar, so loving.” He traces down the line of Psyche's neck. “And here….she is bent back to him, so exposed and vulnerable, tilting to look up into his face. What do you see there?”
His voice winds itself around you, wrapping you in golden vines of warmth and want. You need a moment to find your own. When you do, it is only capable of expressing itself in a breathless whisper.
“Tenderness. Joy.”
He nods slowly, trailing his finger down Cupid’s strong arm. “And what do you see in him?”
Your thoughts are bright butterflies, sparks that fly up into the haze of your mind and explode in little pinpricks of light. Blinking, trying to control the overwhelming wave of attraction that threatens to pull you under, you reach out and touch the same page, your fingers scant centimeters from his.
“He’s…..adoring. The way he holds her head, his fingers touching her face. And he’s smiling at her, affectionately. Openly.” Your gaze drops down to where Comte’s finger points to Cupid’s left arm. You clear your throat and continue. “He covers her breasts with his arm, shielding her from the viewer, and yet that one hand holds her in a way that’s….it’s so intimate. It feels somehow more intimate than if we would see her bare.” Your voice is a whisper, soft and woven through with delicate wisps of yearning. “He touches her as if he’s done it a hundred times and still revels in it…..” You trail off, pressing your lips together, unable to go on.
Comte’s fingers brush against yours and you turn your head, startled to find that your faces are so very close. Outside the rain gently rolls down the massive glass window. The streetlamp flickers. Comte’s gaze is a steady golden sun.
“He adores her,” he murmurs, his voice rolling through you. You feel his fingers move, covering yours on the page.
“She marvels at him,” you answer quietly, your fingers curling around his in response.
He leans down ever so slightly, his mouth so close you can feel the warmth of his words on your lips. “He dreams of her……”
“.....and he is what makes her waking sublime…” The words are hardly more than the breaths between heartbeats.
His mouth brushes faintly against yours, the softest touch, a silken feather, a velvet caress.
“....He wants nothing more…..” His hand tightens around yours, his chest rising and falling with the contained power of his emotion. “...than to kiss her….”
“He should,” you say, soft as a nightingale welcoming a summer evening. "He should kiss her."
And he does, pressing his lips against yours as the wave that has been looming ever closer pours down upon you both. One hand rises, gripping the nape of your neck with tender ardor. You plunge your free hand into the soft wilderness of his tawny hair, opening your mouth to taste him.
Your other hand? It is still tightly holding onto his, a promise you won’t let go.
An echo of Cupid and his beloved Psyche.
Pysche Revived by Cupid's Kiss- Antonio Canova, 1793
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#ikemen series#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevamp comte#comte de saint germain#ikemen comte#comte x reader#tutor au#modern au#ikemen fanfiction#ikemen fanfic#otome fanfic#violettwrites
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Study session [C.G]
Carl Gallagher x Reader
Summary
Carl really liked Y/n, and he thought that Y/n liked him too. So, he somewhat forces himself on them, and they get a bit uncomfortable. He ends up kissing them, and they pull away.
Y/n is a kindhearted individual who isn't used to getting much attention because they're pretty shy. So, when the teacher asked them to help a fellow student with their studies, they couldn't say no.
A/N - The reader's gender doesn't matter in this story, so you guys can decide for yourselves. :)
Warning: Name calling, Uncomfortable, Misunderstanding
Word count: 1,440
[Angst/Fluff]
Shameless Masterlist
Fandom Masterlists
/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/
"Is it six?"
"Five, Carl, the answer is five." Carl's face shifted to a slight frown as he shifted in his seat.
It has been nearly three hours since you arrived at the Gallaghers' household.
"Hey, don't worry." You placed your hand on Carl's shoulder. "You're getting better."
You started cramming your notes back into your bookbag. "Seriously, Carl. Maybe you might actually pass 10th grade."
He smirked. Shoving your shoulder lightly as you giggled.
"Leaving so soon?" Carl asked, tilting his head smirkingly.
"Like always, out by eight." You said as you placed your bookbag on your shoulders.
"Can't you stay a little longer?"
You looked at Carl as if he was insane.
"You know my curfew's ten. Anything past that without a 24-hour notice for my parents, I might as well be digging my own grave."
"Come on! You still got an hour!"
"Thirty minutes. It takes thirty minutes for me to walk ho-"
"Ten more minutes, then I'll walk you home."
"What are we even going to do?"
You were exhausted nonetheless. Tutoring three different people each week can really fill in your schedule.
"I don't know. Something fun? Come on! Losen up a bit. Bend the rules a little!" Carl stood in front of you. Barely three inches away from your face. "Come on, let's go to my room. I want to show you something."
Quick skip! ~ Into Carl's bedroom!
"So, what'd you want to show me?"
"This."
Carl pulled a piece of paper out of his drawer. Showing it with pride.
"Wha- Carl!" You grabbed the paper out of his hands. "You didn't tell me you had a test!"
"And I aced it too."
"And why do you even have me as a tutor?" You leaned into his face, teasingly scrunching your nose at him. "I'm proud of you!"
"Thanks." He smiled proudly.
Carl placed his hands in his pockets as he held his shoulder high. He lowered his head as he looked at you with a smirk. Carl swayed closer to you. "I wanted to prove to you that I'm not as stupid as those other kids you tutor."
And by those other kids, he means Chuck and some other random loser.
"Oh, Carl. I never thought you were stupid." You said, shaking your head slightly. Looking up at him. His chest was barely touching yours.
Carl slowly tilted his head as he lowered it- closer to yours. He looked at your lips, then back to your eyes. As he slowly closed his. His hands slowly but softly cupped your checks. Keeping your head firm. Your heart jumped when you realized what he was about to do. Your lips barely grazed each other before you pushed him away.
"What are you doing?" You asked him. You were a bit shaken by his sudden act.
Let's just say that Carl was a bit taken aback by your action.
"Wha-What do you mean?" He asked with a hint of nervousness in his tone.
"Carl what kind of relationship do you think we have...?"
'I..."
"I should go."
You gave him back his test paper as you quickly left his room. Leaving him to contemplate his choices.
Time skip!~
The next day was a little awkward... You quickly noticed how Carl's behavior changed every time you entered a room. He was tense, always trying to leave. He didn't even bother to attend today's session.
Clearly, there was a problem, and the guilt was eating you alive.
You didn't mean to make things awkward with him. You like Carl... a lot! You just panicked... You weren't used to being treated like that. You never even had a boyfriend before and never really gave that idea much thought.
The next day you sat outside eating lunch when you saw Carl and his buddy Nick walk out the school door. You placed your food down and quickly tried to catch up to them. You wanted to fix things.
Nick saw you running towards him and Carl, and he quickly tapped Carl's shoulder.
"Hm?" He turned his head just enough to see you running.
His heart started pounding as his cheeks began to turn pink. He turned his head, hiding his embarrassment from Nick.
"H-Hey..."
"Hey." Said Carl with his hands in his pockets.
"So, uh... You didn't show up for our last session; why?"
"I had some stuff I needed to finish... You know, business."
"Oh, ok, umm... Are you gonna be there tonight? My place? We have a test coming up for Government."
Carl looked at Nick then back at you. We'll be there."
Usually, Carl would never let Nick in your guy's sessions. He would always tell him to wait in a different room, or if you guys were studying somewhere other than in his house, he would just have him stay home. But this time, it was different.
Time skip~
You were currently organizing your desk. It's been a while since you and Carl studied there. Usually, you guys would study in Carl's room.
Finally, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" You yelled.
You opened the front door to see Carl holding his bookbag and his friend Nick who doesn't talk much.
"Hey, your late."
You were never a fan of tardiness. Being raised the way you were, you always thought it was rude, and you knew he knew that about you too.
"Yeah, well, we got caught up in something. Anyways let's get this over with, yeah?"
Carl was clearly giving attitude. You weren’t a huge fan of that, but you hoped you still had a chance to explain yourself during the session.
Anyways, the three of you all headed towards your room.
"Umm... Is Nick joining us this time?"
"Yeah!" He spat. "Nick's tired of always being left out. Said he wanted to learn things too."
"Right..."
You knew that Carl had a bit of a bad boy reputation, but he never intimidated you or made you feel small before. At least not until that point.
"Ok, let's get started..."
You and Carl both sat at the desk. Pencils out and notebooks open. Meanwhile, Nick just stood there hovering over you both.
You couldn't really focus well and surprisingly Carl started correcting you-
"It's five Y/n. Remember? We did this question yesterday."
"O-oh, right." You quickly erased your answer. Fixing it.
Two hours passed, and it felt like an eternity for you. You couldn't stand sitting quietly there with him anymore... So, you spoke.
"Hey, sorry, I know we're in the middle of this question, but can we talk... in private?" You whispered the last part.
Carl sighed and signaled Nick to leave the room. He seemed annoyed.
"So, what'd you want to talk about."
"Umm... about our last session..."
"I told you I had something I-"
"No- I mean..." You closed your eyes and inhaled some air.
You were never good with confrontation, even if it was you doing it. No matter if you did something wrong or the other way around. It always made you nervous.
"What about it." Carl spat.
"I-I'm sorry. If I did something wrong. Don't get the wrong idea. I- I do like you, Carl." You closed your eyes. "I just wasn't expecting that. I didn't want to destroy our friendship, and I was just scared. I- I never kissed anyway before..." You looked at him, head hung low. "I'm sorry."
Right then and there, that sparkle Carl lost returned to his eyes. As his face shifted into a smirk. Of course, he tried not to show it.
He cupped his hand on your cheek and wiped away your tears. The room soon went quiet, as Carl once again grabbed ahold of your face.
You once again started panicking as Carl's face got closer… He tilted his head once again. Closing his eyes- Your face soon turned red as he closed the gap between your lips.
And there you have it. You two kissed. It only lasted for a minute, but it felt like forever. Time froze right there and then. It felt so magical to you. Your heart was pounding like crazy, and you just sitting there, frozen as he moved his lips on yours. Your cheeks were so red that you were a whole tomato by the time you two were done.
When he pulled away, you were a bashful mess. Stuttering everywhere.
"I- I-ah-"
"Shh... quiet down, angel." Said Carl as he placed his lips on yours once again. You frozed once again, but this time you closed your eyes tightly.
Two seconds later, the door burst open.
"Y/n! Who the hel-!?"
Your father came in...
"CARLLLLL!"
A/n
I hope you guys liked it. I wanted to keep it cute and simple after all; this was the first fanfic I wrote on here. Can you believe it!?
Also, this was supposed to be gender-neutral, so if you see a mistake, just let me know!
Follow for more~! 💕
#fanfiction#misunderstanding#discomfort#teenage romance#shy reader#tutor#high school#shameless#carl gallagher#carl gallagher x reader#gallaghers#shameless us#drama#gender friendly#misunderstood#uncomfortable#high school au#gender friendly reader#any gender
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sometimes scrolling through fanart is just
oh so pretty!!
*scrolls*
oh so painful!!
#like wdym i see some cute modern au hualian and then the next post is xl stabbing wu ming like oh my god#oh i see what my maths tutor meant about me using like too much now oops#me :)
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the 1975 concert boring ahh hell i might just
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sherly has 100% pulled and snapped liam’s sleeve garters for attention
(the remains hs omake au won’t stop rattling in the inside of my head aaaa)
#sherliam#I can hear the liam se~nsei so clearly in my head#and liam’s amused response#sherly I too would fail class not with a teacher so pretty#someone wants one-on-one math tutoring after school#the way I want this sleeve garters snapping in canon verse too#sleeve garters#sensei knows how to attack#thankful for their existence like wth how are they so powerful#he would like you plus me subtract a layer too and divide these lips with yours and maybe those legs too-#wow I need to stfu#my love for bad puns I could not help it JDJDJDJ#don’t look at me#yuukoku no moriarty#moriarty the patriot#the remains#hs au sherliam
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evans!severus au
@greens-your-color prompt 46: EXAM
hospital stays didn’t always mean st mungo’s. trips to the muggle a&e were sometimes the more sensible option, especially when it came to non-wizarding ailments; the triage system would require they go through the muggle system first anyway. stubborn fevers were a toss-up however since they were dangerous enough to potentially set severus’ condition off, but kit and harry would often choose to go through st barts first, since there was always the hidden fear (and suspicion) that constant exposure to magic also triggered severus, and it wasn’t a theory they were keen on testing. waiting for an available room was a chore, though, and severus hated wasting time. though his parents preferred that he rested, he wasn’t going to let a little fever get in the way of his Hogwarts term exam revisions. there was just no way lily was going to get higher marks than him for Charms, not this term, not ever.
(kit and harry often ended up confiscating the study aids if his fever got worse but would promise that if his condition got better they would help him revise, at least for the theory part. petunia thought they were all mad because when she was ill she couldn’t be bothered at all about anything, least of all studying).
#i imagine sev gets tested on the same days as everyone else but he does it remotely#with his tutors giving him the exam#or maybe dumbledore goes himself#the rock paperweight is a rock lily gave him from the hogwarts lawn#he brings it everywhere#evans!severus#au#my art#snape#hp
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more fantasy au. himeru and the juniors he meets under various disguises.
plus. the beginnings of whatever the hell this is
#pax art#fantasy au#enstars#ensemble stars#ensemble stars!!#himeru#himeruposting#aoi yuuta#aoi hinata#adonis otogari#souma kanzaki#the disguises: somas traveling partner#who is a ninja#learnt that skill set from kohaku#he’s a bunny manservant in reis group of thralls#and then lastly a tutor for two young lords#his main disguise with kohaku is a noble man or woman with her bodyguard
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honestly i think people overestimate the degree to which any of the roy siblings were parentified. this is not to discount the importance of connor taking his brothers on the camping trip or fishing with roman, but a few sweet incidents do not a pattern of parentification make. connor tells kendall in 3x09 that he didn't even see their father for three years, plus you know the three younger sibs had to have been surrounded by an army of domestic workers all the time. i think connor generally had good intentions toward his younger sibs, and it's important that he did step up on a few important occasions, but based on their relationship now it seems much more likely that he was generally excluded from family affairs too much to be any real sort of father figure. and this also accounts for why his feelings toward his siblings, while not usually mean or outright angry, are very often tinged with jealousy.
#plus connor is not like. a caretaker likes-to-feel-useful type#kendall is but kendall is also a shit father and it's never really suggested that he actually parented his sibs#and again they would have had nannies and au pairs and tutors and shit#like honestly would any child of a billionaire really be parentified?
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A Rogue One Everybody Lives AU where Chirrut and Baze end up seeing Sabine on a rebel base one day where she's trying to train with Ezra's lightsaber and just... not doing well. She knew how to use the Darksaber and she'd used Ezra's lightsaber to beat Gar Saxon, but something was just... different this time. Not quite as easy, and she's not sure why. Chirrut can tell she's struggling and, being Chirrut, immediately decides to go over and help. I like to think that both Chirrut and Baze would've probably trained other Guardians in combat sometimes, so this isn't exactly new to them.
Chirrut tells her to stop using the lightsaber for a while and has her go back to using a staff. When she keeps struggling and starts complaining, he forces her to wear a blindfold or a mask or something and she complains that she can't see. Chirrut responds with a totally shocked "Really? I hadn't realized." Sabine is rightly mollified by the gentle reminder.
Chirrut isn't gentle with her, but he's not harsh, either. He doesn't let her get away with being a brat, nor does Baze. He pushes her, refuses to let her wallow in her own feelings for too long. He asks her how old she is once after she gets snippy and when she tells him that she's in her twenties, he tells her he thought she was a teenager and when she responds with an indignant "I'm not a child!" he tells her to stop acting like one.
But he doesn't dismiss her, either. He refuses to just walk away from her or let her walk away from herself. He wasn't a Jedi, he's not Force sensitive, but he's learned to trust in the Force and believe in it. He knew the Jedi, he understood them, and he held similar beliefs and practices from his life as a Guardian. He can tell that Sabine is struggling with some emotion that she's refusing to face and, like Kanan before him, he knows she won't get anywhere until she acknowledges it and overcomes it. He knows she's better than this, knows she can rise above this struggle.
Eventually he gets her to admit that she's still grieving Ezra, still feeling guilty that she was the one who saw him leave to sacrifice himself and chose to distract the others so he could go, still scared that she won't be able to live up to the example he set and the responsibilities he left her with. Only once she's let it all out does he finally let her use the lightsaber again, and this time it doesn't feel quite as heavy. This time it feels more like she remembers it felt when she used it to defeat Gar Saxon so long ago.
And then Baze finds Luke Skywalker and brings him along because he's the only person around who also owns a lightsaber and can spar with Sabine. Sabine beats his ass because poor Luke has gotten next to zero training in how to use it and Sabine now has the chance to pass along some of what she's learned, both from Chirrut and Kanan before him. She doesn't just pass on lightsaber tricks either, she tries to pass on things she heard Kanan teach Ezra, sayings he would repeat every so often to bolster Ezra's confidence, the things he taught HER about facing her fears.
She also conveniently remembers an exercise Kanan had them do with Ezra where they threw fruit at him that Ezra had to block while standing on top of a moving ship and Chirrut and Baze think this is an EXCELLENT idea and are very happy to help set this exercise up for Luke. Luke is perhaps less enthused about it.
Sabine manages to remember Kanan saying "do or do not, there is no try" to Ezra but not knowing what it means and how she and Zeb thought that this was HILARIOUS and it became something of an inside joke between them (they never heard Kanan explain it better once he figured it out), so she passes it on to Luke who also doesn't get it. But then Luke goes to Dagobah and meets Yoda who tells him exactly this and Luke exclaims "Did every Jedi just go around saying this without knowing what it meant?" Yoda probably thwaps him with his cane for that. A few years later, he sees Sabine again after the Empire falls and he tells her that he finally figured out what it means. Sabine asks him to explain it and he tells her it's something everybody has to figure out for themselves. She nearly throttles him. Chirrut and Baze reveal that they knew what it meant the whole time but thought it was funny to watch the two of them struggle over it. Luke and Sabine form a truce immediately in response.
#star wars#rogue one#sabine wren#chirrut imwe#baze malbus#luke skywalker#inspired by some tags i saw on a post about sabine asking how she can fight if she can't see#even though she was literally taught how to use a lightsaber by a blind man#so i decided to give her another blind tutor just for the sheer hilarity of how chirrut would respond to that complaint#master chirrut au
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