#you will learn more about me than you ever wanted to know
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❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞
❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞
✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader
✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)
✧ wc: 13,544
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!
“You want me to teach you?”
The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike.
But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—
“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?”
Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully.
Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“
And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.”
But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,”
“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision.
“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,”
You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“
“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens.
“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“
“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?”
You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble.
And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here.
“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,”
You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head.
“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone.
“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours.
“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?”
And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal.
“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks.
“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?”
You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was.
“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?”
“Of course,”
He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone.
And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened.
“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,”
Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend.
“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin, “is something interesting about my hands?”
Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,”
“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,”
“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?”
“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?”
This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away?
“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?”
A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”
And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids.
“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?”
And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.
Fuck.
“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,”
He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,”
Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew.
His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs.
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek.
“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“
“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other.
Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.
“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“
“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?”
And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp.
He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,”
“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?”
“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,”
Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either.
His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense.
“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,”
“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,”
And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“
“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body.
“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod.
“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“
“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash.
Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more.
But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji:
Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)
You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—
Why did you still want more?
When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so.
And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him.
“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“
“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“
“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“
“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“
“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?”
“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“
“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?”
“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?”
She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,”
“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs.
“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?”
“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned.
God, what the fuck.
“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,”
“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.
“We don’t have to—“
“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—
“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but—
“Sounds perfect,” he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—
And it seemed he was here to stay.
“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,”
“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes, holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms.
“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,”
“For?” He raises an eyebrow.
“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“
“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face.
He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips.
“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“
“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,”
You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you.
But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.
“I didn’t think I was either.”
“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,”
If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him.
And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!”
You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“
“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?”
That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up.
“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie.
But you can’t.
“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“
“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.”
“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse.
And he knew no one else would ever feel this good.
How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you.
“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips.
You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute.
“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“
And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him.
“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,”
And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—
He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed.
“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap.
“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty.
He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling.
It was his favorite thing.
“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“
“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“
“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in.
“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?”
And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other.
“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties.
His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth.
“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,”
“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.
“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away.
“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?”
“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy.
“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it.
The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again.
“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,”
And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side.
His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face.
“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean.
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head.
“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“
“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep.
He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek.
“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection.
He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.
His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him.
His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same.
He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop.
Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—
Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back.
What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did.
He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now.
“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair.
He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?”
Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?”
The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside.
“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket.
It had been like this since that night.
You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.
Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back.
And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it.
“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him—
Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship.
You never wanted to risk Yuji like that.
But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you.
“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were?
And now you know what you wanted to do.
As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out.
“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips.
“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?”
And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth.
“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips.
“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl.
Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs.
You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears.
Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow.
“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“
And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips.
“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words?
Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to.
And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much.
He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket.
He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his.
“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“
“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“
He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike.
“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,”
His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“
“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later.
How long has it been?
You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place.
Great.
It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him.
Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him.
No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this.
But you weren’t made to let this break apart.
You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped.
“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?”
“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about.
“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember.
It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him.
“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,”
“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“
“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip.
“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours.
“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?”
“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“
“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,”
“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“
“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“
“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,”
You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“
“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach.
“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“
“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,”
He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?”
Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart.
Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself.
“I didn’t want to bother you—“
“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say?
He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone.
It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you.
“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?”
“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence.
“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you, “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days.
When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.
And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt.
He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new.
You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking.
“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side.
“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that.
You were in love.
The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on.
It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself.
And he deserved more than that.
He deserved more than you.
And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that.
“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home.
“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks.
“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall?
So you do, letting your hand fall away from his.
“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat.
“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“
“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion.
“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same.
“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“
“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him?
But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“
“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street.
What just happened?
The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it.
Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay.
But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again.
You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks.
“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,”
Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“
“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher.
“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.”
And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t.
Not yet.
You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place.
And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands.
“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet.
“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his.
“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his.
And maybe things could get back to normal.
“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,”
And you smile, “I love you too—“
“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression.
“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“
“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,”
“Yuji—“
“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,”
“Yuji—“
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“
“Yuji—“
“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name.
“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“
“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”
“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off.
“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“
Fuck it.
You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji.
“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,”
“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?”
“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“
“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“
“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.”
Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little.
Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life.
“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.”
“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“
His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends.
“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“
“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“
“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed.
“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?”
He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,”
You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,”
“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again.
And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.
He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan.
He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,”
You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?”
And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head.
“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you.
“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath.
“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays.
And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.”
“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,”
And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again.
And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much.
You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release.
And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin.
“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss.
“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,”
“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“
And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back.
“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your
He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“
And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp.
“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides.
You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling.
“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again.
“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“
You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,”
And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit.
Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“
“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words.
And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“
“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,”
“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips.
“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you.
“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“
“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“
And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead.
“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,”
“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss.
“And you always will.”
“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her.
“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,”
“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“
“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“
She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.”
“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,”
And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.”
✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.
✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi
#sab [mlist]#yuji itadori x reader#yuji itadori smut#yuji itadori fanfiction#yuji itadori fluff#yuji itadori x you#jjk smut#jjk fanfiction#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#itadori yuji x reader#itadori yuji smut#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji fanfiction
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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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can you write something about reader and ellie being in a new relationship! they’ve only had sex a few times and in this particular instance, ellie finds out reader has a praise kink. soft dom!ellie pls<3333
MEOWWWWWW this 😭 is 😭 the cutest 😭 idea 😭 ever 😭😭😭 softdom!ellie my favouritest ever. you will almost always find me writing softdom!ellie. um also this ended up being way longer than i intended! so... this was meant to be like, a blurb. a few paragraphs. it's over 900 words. yeah
cw: softdom!ellie, sub!reader, oral (r!receiving), finger sucking, overstim, looooots of sappy praise !!
mdni , nsfw under the cut ౨ৎ
"shh shh shh."
soft coos echo in the room, ellie trailing tender kisses up your stomach. the love is so fresh that the two of you can't help but be a little shy still, though, you more than ellie. the girl was glad to get her hands on you the very first time you'd let her.
weeks later and she's just as enthusiastic, though reminding herself to steer things slower and gentler. you're still learning so much about each other, like what sets or ruins a mood, what's strange but stimulating, and especially for ellie – she's paying close attention to learning just how much you can take.
slicked fingers prod at your lips and without a second thought you part them. the fingers flatten on your tongue, and ellie's lips curl upwards when you accept it with a pleased hum.
"you can taste yourself, can't you?" she whispers, nipping at the skin of your jawline. the room's almost dead silent, aside from honeyed words and the lewd sounds of you sucking her fingers. "doesn't it taste good, babe? uh-huh… i know."
eager with her hands, ellie's had no issue with the physical aspect of sex. but this is the first time she's been so verbal in the moment, and she's already picking up on the difference it's making. what an effect it's having. and all it does is go straight to her head. a steep boost to that ego of hers, which to be fair, could use one.
ellie slides her fingers out of your lips and chuckles to herself, smearing spit over them, thinking about how pliable and docile you are three orgasms deep into her bed.
"just gotta have a taste," she murmurs, so close to your ear that you can feel her breath fan against you. it's so warm, as is the rest of the room, the scent of sex ruminating in the air. she dips down, resting back between your legs.
she's so focused until your hand paws at her head, taking grip of her hair, and you mumble the tiniest, "too sensitive, don't think it's a good idea, so–"
"oh, no baby, you can take it," ellie encourages, a less cocky and more reassuring smile left on her face now. "you're so good at taking what i give you, i think you can handle this. just one more for me, yeah?"
holy shit. the reassurance has such an effect– you feel it hard as you attempt to let go and let ellie continue. she pays no mind at first, hands languidly pushing apart your thighs, handfuls squishing at your skin. and yet your mind is still lost over her words. she's been borderline worshipping you all night and yet you're beginning to realise that what is setting tonight apart from all the others is her being so verbose. the praising of your body and your submission – the voice in which she says it and you can tell she means it.
first, she tucks that one temperamental strand of hair back behind her ear, and then she licks a tentative stripe down your soaked pussy.
before your shaking hand takes leisure in ellie's hair – which she knows would end in fruitless tugging – she catches your hand in hers. "that's it, pretty girl. mmh, i know it's so intense, but you're gonna lay here and take it all, ain't that right?"
you nod so fervently, squeezing ellie's hand. she's definitely been beginning to notice this sudden affinity for her praises. it's amusing, yet at the same time, so rousing.
a soft kiss against your clit has you bucking your hips closer, yet your hips want to wriggle away. you can't tell what you even want. but that's okay, isn't it? ellie's already decided for you.
thumbing at your clit now, ellie gives you a wide grin, watching you struggle and writhe. "oh, is that too much?" she watches you shake your head, admiring the look of sweet determination on your face. "no? good girl."
she all but dives into your cunt, lapping and sucking your cum like she's starving. she won't stop until you've covered her face in it. she's making careful, very intentional use of words now– rasping them against your hot skin so that you truly, physically feel her praise. feeling your hand squeeze hers so tight eggs her on, her eyes boring into your own. ellie watches you try at anything to ease the overstimulation, your free hand grasping and squeezing your tit. she listens to your mewls and moans over the sounds of her slurping your pussy.
"that's it, baby," ellie coos, "i know, i know. you're being so fuckin' good for me."
"ellie," you sigh, she can see it clearly, how fast your breathing picks up and how your legs threaten closure around her head. "ellie, oh, oh my god."
"you taste too sweet, baby," ellie muses, watching it all go right to your head. the way your eyelids droop, you're close.
this has been her greatest bedroom discovery yet. with you teetering on the edge of orgasm, she makes her next words count, her voice reverberating against you. "be a good girl now, cum for me."
#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x fem reader#ellie williams x reader#tlou2 x reader#ellie williams#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fanfic#anon <3#lesbian#sub!reader#softdom!ellie#dom!ellie
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𝑶𝑯 𝑴𝒀 𝑩𝑰𝑮 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀 !!
— old bf!toji x young gf!reader
i think toji with a girlfriend that is so much younger than him is so adorable.
before you, he was just a man with a small room that is always so messy because he is rarely home. but, the room feels so much like home now that you have entered his life. he's never bothered to decorate or do anything. his heart flutters when he finds several photoframes hanging on the wall. one of you and him, a few of just his and a lot of megumi.
toji has never in his life ever clicked a selfie. he is not photogenic at all. so when you poke him to click one with you, he's not sure what to do in front of a camera. you tell him to just be himself and he is still confused. you lift the phone and make a peace sign with your hand, your teeth peeking out as your lips curve in a smile. you click it quickly and scan the photo. it is cute. you put a heart emoji with a wink one and upload it on your instagram. soon, your phone is buzzing with notifications. you open them and giggle. toji is so curious so he peeks and finds people calling him "the rock". He snatches the phone to scan the selfie you took earlier. you look so adorable with your cute little peace sign and smile and there he was beside you with a brow raised looking angry. "delete that shit right now," he orders. "are you kidding me? this is gold. it's going on the wall." he can't help but grin at how you find such silly things funny.
toji who is getting used to texting and wants to be even closer to you so he tries to learn some slangs. you are out with your friends when your phone chimes. you unlock it to see the text from toji.
toji: kys
you almost spit out the coffee you were enjoying. what the fuck is he on? what happened? you immediately call him.
"hello," his voice raspy.
"tojii! why the fuck would you say something like that to me?"
"what are you talking about?"
"the text you just sent me. why did you send that?"
"because i care for you, doll." you were even more confused now.
"you told me to kill myself because you care for me?"
"kill yourself? who said that? i sent K.Y.S." he spelled out each letter out loud. "it means keep yourself safe." it takes you a few seconds to absorb and then you burst out laughing. he is not sure what is so funny.
"oh my poor big baby. kys means kill yourself."
oh. OH.
"i—i am so fucking sorry, princess. i was just—"
"you are so adorable. when i come home, i need to go through your google search history to know what other slangs you learnt." he is so embarrassed, he bites his lower lip. but he is also feeling so warm and fuzzy because you called him adorable. who would call a man in his mid 30s adorable? well, you did. and he is so happy about that. happier that he met you.
#jujutsu kaisen#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#jjk x reader#toji fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro fluff
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“Baby I” - Paige Bueckers♡
summary : jealous Paige Bueckers x reader !
wc ; 897
synopsis : inspired by the song “baby i” by Ariana Grande :) Paige’s jealousy often gets in the way of your relationship, so what happens when you interact with a particularly attractive stranger?
warning : angst , suggestive content , jealousy / possessiveness
my master list ㇀♡
a/n : look at me having a posting streak !! decided to try something new today, so I hope yall enjoy ◡̈
You and Paige had been dating for not too long, but your relationship had certainly developed into one where strong feelings and emotions played a huge factor in your everyday lives.
It was no secret to you that Paige was jealous, envious even; it caused you a fair share of problems throughout your relationship. Whether it was through jealous ridden comments, or snarky remarks, it was slowly starting to take a toll on you.
You and Paige were invited to go bar hopping with the team, as a celebration of the victorious win for Uconn. The free spirited and ambient environment encouraged you to let loose, encouraging you to not only grab a drink from the bar, but to strike up a couple of conversations with individuals around you.
It’s not that Paige didn’t want you to talk to other people, it’s just that when it comes to you; she’s very, how do I word this.. Overbearing? Whether it was constantly having her hands glued to your waist, peppering your face with kisses, or shooting bitter looks and whoever even dares to be just a little too friendly.
On this particular night, a very attractive character to say the least, approached you; beginning to start a simple conversation. Asking things like your name, complimenting your outfit, and overall trying to learn more about you
From across the room, you can see the blonde staring intensely at you, giving you a disapproving look; signaling you to end the conversation. You furrowed your brows and gave her a confused look back, not understanding how the conversation was moving south in any way.
You quickly turned back around, further continuing your conversation with the stranger, when all of a sudden you feel a harsh tug on your wrist. “It was nice meeting you, but we have to go.” And just like that, there you were, being dragged out of the bar by your girlfriend. Who seemed incredibly pissed.
The drive back home was unbearable, no words were exchanged between you two. The blonde never acknowledging you on your journey back home, knuckles white due to her intense grip on the steering wheel. You couldn’t tell if she was upset, disappointed, horny, or a mix of all 3.
As soon as you reached your apartment, your nerves were eating you alive. You had no idea what was waiting for you once you reached your apartment door.
You quickly hurried inside, and situated yourself on your shared couch. Waiting for her to say something. You felt your heart pounding, unable to even form coherent words. When you realized the endless silence, you simply muttered out a “I’m..sorry?.” Paige rolled her eyes at you, scoffing in the process. “YOU’RE sorry? They were practically throwing themselves at you and all you did was stand there and let them.” You were shocked, you knew Paige could take things the wrong way, but you never imagined her of all people would think you would be the type to do that.
“Paige…” you started. “You know I love you more than anything, but you know words can’t even touch what’s in my heart,” you continued. Your eyes now spilling out tears you tried your hardest to keep in.
“Then why don’t you ever tell me?”... “I feel like I’m constantly competing with others for your attention” This statement startled you, as you knew Paige was well aware of your difficulty to express yourself, let alone reassure others. Fuck. Oh how badly you wished the floor underneath you would simply collapse, giving you any sort of escape from the high tensioned conversation.
You felt as if you were to speak, your throat would simply close up. You managed to croak out.. “It’s just when I try to explain it, I be sounding insane. Sometimes it feels like the words don’t ever come out right.” She looks at you, her gaze softening a bit; as a reaction to your sudden vulnerability.
“It’s just I don’t know…the words just never come out right when it comes to you. You make me get all tongue tied and twisted, and I literally cannot explain what I’m feeling.” “Baby-” “No.” - you cut her off. Quickly feeling a rush of adrenaline run through you. “Yes, I should’ve been more clear and work on my communication, but you need to realize that not everyone is trying to sabotage our relationship. It’s exhausting. I can’t keep isolating myself due to your jealous fits of rage.”
Paige looks at you, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill out if she even mumbles out a word. She muttered a quiet “im sorry…”, her voice cracking at the last word, her eyes glued to the floor as she anticipated your response.
As if she were a magnet, you run towards her and wrap your arms around her tall frame, gently rubbing circles into your back as sobs slowly escape her lips. This entire thing had been a complete misunderstanding, and her jealousy blinded her judgment. Through her weeps you were able to make out “i love you. All i was trying to say is that youre my everything and-”
She wasnt even able to finish her sentence as she felt your warm lips on hers, entangling her in a deep and loving kiss. “If that doesnt show you that i love you, i dont know what will”
not sure how to feel about this tbh, originally i was gonna give this a sad ending but since the song is a love song, it didn’t feel fitting. Lmk ur thoughts !! Thanks for reading ◡̈
#Spotify#wlw#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#wcbb x reader#wcbb#wlw imagine#wlw post#ariana grande#arianator
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The Ex and Why's
Summary: No one knows much about Simon’s life aside from what was listed on his files. The family that had died a tragic death, the trauma that came with his actions, and the rank that made him what he was today. No one had realized that behind the balaclava wearing man from Manchester was a man that once had a heart and signed divorced papers he had constantly regretted signing all those years ago..
Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Ex Wife!Reader. John Price. Kate Laswell. Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Word Count: 9,787
Chapter Warnings: Angst with Happy Ending. Miscommunication. Mention of Minor Character Deaths. Mention of Divorce. Life threatening Injuries. Mention of Simon's tragic past and trauma. Not edited (sorry!)
AN: I can now sleep in peace. If you enjoyed it why not visit my mini celebration and post your own requests I can write just like this.
Masterlist || Request are Open || 500 Followers Celebration
When you had learned about this new job, one thing you had so gotten used to doing was letting Simon know about it. But not this time, something about letting him back into your life wasn’t something you should do anymore. You were no longer married to him by your own choice and no one else’s. So you know it was time to wear your big girl pants now and stopped letting him know about it.
You no longer had any reason to give your ex-husband any updates about your life. A more selfish reason was how you just wanted to start a new life, away from him and away from anything that was related to him.
“Ms. Riley?”
You turned smiling at the man that would now be your new boss. You learned his name to be John Price, a Captain.
Being married to a man like Simon Riley once upon a time, you know some thing or two about what goes on inside of a military base. Even when he hasn’t talked much about it with you during your relationship or if he even gone as far as mention your existence to the people he had once worked with. You chalked it up to overprotectiveness and fear that they would get to you, and some night thing that he was simply embarrassed about you. Maybe it’s another reason why you had opted out of telling him about this new job of yours.
“Captain Price, it’s good to finally meet you.” You firmly shook the man’s hand. A good first impression was the best thing for you to do if it meant making sure you work for the man for the foreseeable future.
“Likewise, Laswell as spoke great things about you and I’m hoping to be able to experience it firsthand.”
You nodded with a smile. Working for Kate’s wife for nearly a few years beforehand, you had appreciated the suggestion for this new role as a secretary for the Captain ever since your divorce. She had understood you needed this change in pace in your life and this was much of a welcome change.
“I do hope it’s all good things.” You quipped right back earning a deep resonating chuckle from the older man.
“Well I think now that introductions as over and done with, let me show you to my office. I do hope you’re up for dealing with a handful of documents for me on your first day.”
“More than happy to.” You beamed following the man, his larger hand holding onto the small of your back as you began your journey into the heart of the base.
All throughout the walk, he was giving your directions to where most things were. You were warned how some men could be rowdy at time and he was more than happy to help in the off chance that any of his men would give you problems.
All you could do was smile, not wanting him to know that you were more than well equipped to punch or kick anyone that would get too handsy with you. One of the perks of having an ex-husband working for the military.
He continued on with how things go around in the base. Schedules for meal time and the curfew in the event that you would be staying in the base overnight. He had also showed you to where your new room would be located in.
“You would be a few rooms away from my own as well as the Lieutenant and Sergeants that I trust most. In the event that I’m unavailable, they will be more than willing to lend you a hand if you need it.”
You nodded before you finally arrived in his office. Opening the door for you, you were greeted with a spacious office. Even in the chaos of the military base, the man’s office was pristine, a few knick knacks and photos that littered his walls, as well as a bookshelf that housed an array of military strategies books. But the most alarming thing about his office was the other table that housed stack upon stacks of folders, papers practically spilling out from each and every single one of them.
“I may or may not have underestimated the help I truly need in this situation.” The Captain said sheepishly as you began opening the folders and gasped that most of them weren’t even ordered correctly even with the page numbers printed on them.
“I think I can manage this.” You blinked hoping you didn’t bite more than you could chew in this moment.
For the next few hours, your time was spent removing staplers upon staplers from the papers for each and every single one of the folders while you were inquiring to John the calls you would be fielding for him from now on and how he would want you to deal with it.
You had learned so much about the man in the few hours being in the same room as him. He was a man that wanted to ensure the safety of the world, even if it meant bloodying his hands up a little just to make sure of it. It showed with some of the missions reports that you may or may not have accidentally read too much into. You’ve also learned how much he hated talking to upper ranking officials if not needed, he was a man that hated authority yet he was working in the field that he was in right now from the way his comments about letting calls from upper ranks go to voice mail if possible.
“Will there be anything or anyone that I should be worried about for now?” You inquired making sure that you did not stir anyone in the wrong way if possible.
“I’m sure Laswell has told you enough to understand our work. Some men are more scarred than sane and if possible, I want you to make sure that you do not give anyone the wrong impression if possible.”
You know what he was implying and with your own experience you know far too well that getting yourself involved with another man in uniform would lead into.
“I’ve done my fair share, Captain. I don’t think that would be much of a problem with me.” You reassured him.
“Laswell told me you were divorced.” He began, huh, who would have thought the man would be the gossiping type.
“It’s been a few years,” You shrugged attention solely on rearranging the files at hand. “It took months before my ex-husband signed the papers, I wanted to think it was because he was deployed but I knew otherwise.” You muttered.
When you had made the decision to finally break things off with Simon, it was like pulling teeth with the man and his near avoidance about the discussion or where you would be sending the divorce papers. You had enough of it, leaving the home you once shared instead with everything you owned and left nothing more of you than the divorce papers alongside the wedding ring and engagement ring he had given you all those years ago.
“He was military too?”
“Something like that.” You nodded not wanting to think too much about the man. Even after everything, you still worried about you giving the man too much information in the event that he works for the opposing side if the chance may have it.
“Well his lost is my gain.” He snorts turning his attention back to the freshly arranged folders courtesy of you that were now ready for his signature. “No offense.”
“None taken, Captain.”
Eventually the man had excused himself for a meeting and had instructed you that no one would be allowed inside aside from him. He had also reminded you about lunch which you could head on out first or you could join him once his meeting was done. You’ve decided it would be best to join him for lunch for now, just to get a feeling of anyone that you would get into contact with on your first day.
With a quick goodbye, you were left on your own and you all but groaned at the folders still stacked up and yet to be touched. It truly made you wonder how the man could be so good in his job yet be so horrible with his paperwork. You will never understand.
Your eyes fixated for a moment on one of the pictures on the wall. It was your boss with three individuals. A blue eyed man with a horrible cut Mohawk but the biggest beaming smile on his face, his arm wrapped around a much younger man with darker skin but a bright eyes that twinkled with happiness for whatever was going on when the photo was taken. But amongst the camaraderie and enjoyment was a man in a skull balaclava mask that had such an empty but somehow familiar eyes, the man stuck out like a sore thumb even with the Captain’s hand resting on the taller man’s shoulder and beaming smile and a cigar between his lips. It was an odd mix of people but it was like family—it made you miss Simon for a moment before your attention got right back to the paperworks.
You can’t think of him now. Not anymore.
After the events of Las Almas, Simon Riley had truly fought the urge to call you, to tell you how much you mean the world to him and how he was now more than willing to give you the compromise you had always longed from him. But a part of him, the bigger and much darker part of him had refused, slamming his own phone onto the wall in the sheer anger of everything that had occurred in the moment. You had made your choice because of his own action and he would be cruel to take that away from you.
“Heard Cap had a new Secretary, old man’s gonna finally keep his paperworks in check now.” Soap had ruining Simon’s sulking in the cafeteria.
It’s been a grueling few days. With new recruits he was forced to deal with in the morning and nightmares that you no longer could vanish for him at night. His life was nothing more than misery personified and he has no one else to blame but himself.
“Can’t say I’m surprise. Laswell probably set it up for him.” Simon muttered being more than within earshot when he heard both Laswell and Price arguing about the man’s need for necessary help with files. It was Laswell’s decision above anything else, it’s just a matter of time if the secretary would actually last with how everything goes around here in the base.
“Still, hope we’ll have a new bonnie around. Getting sick and tired of seeing Bampots all around.”
Simon didn’t even had the energy to question the man’s slangs, his attention solely back on his cup of tea and lunch—how horrible it was compared to your cup and cooking, but he never truly appreciated it until it was gone. His tea was too bitter even with the sugar and cream he added and the food that didn’t have the special kick compared to your own cooking. Even years after the divorce he was still so miserable without you in his life.
“Steamin Jesus.”
Simon could practically hear Soap melt from where he sat in front of him, his eyes directed at whoever was behind Simon. His curiosity got the better of him and his head turned and he was welcomed with the last person he would have ever believed to be walking besides one John Price.
“Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.” Soap pointed out breaking Simon from his trance.
“English, MacTavish.”
“You look a lil’ pale, Lt. Like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”
Simon could have at this point. As you walked besides Price towards the table he sat in. He noticed how unaware you were even at the sight of him only for him to realize that you had never seen him with his mask on, or in anything that has to do with his line of work—until now.
“Right, I think it’s time to introduce this lovely lass.” Price cleared his throat but he should have known by now that both Simon and Soap’s attention were already on them both. “This is Y/N Riley, my new secretary.”
Simon’s brows rose at that little tidbit. You still had his last name. He understood to a degree why you did so—your family that you had long cut off from your life after what they had done to you, but after everything that had happened between the two of you he wouldn’t have expect you to choose the lesser of two evils—being his last name.
“Riley? She a sister or wife to you, Lt?” Soap’s quick remark earned him a glare from Simon before his attention was back to you, how your brows furrowed before your eyes finally widen in realization.
“Purely coincidence.” Simon muttered.
“This is Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish and Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley.” Price introduced almost realizing at this point the similarity of the last name you both shared in this moment.
“Nice to meet you two.” You smiled, quickly to compose yourself and shaking both men’s hand.
Even with the glove Simon wore, he could still feel the all too familiar electric shock of your touch against his own. He looked at you how easy your eyes dilated at his touch. It scared him still how you had so much of an effect on him even after the years apart from each other.
As you and Price excused yourselves to get lunch, it left Simon wondering if this was the world finally punishing him for everything he has done in his cruel life. Give him the very thing he had wanted the most only to pull it away at every instance.
“Bloody fucking hell.”
It’s been two weeks since you’ve began your new job as Captain John Price’s secretary. Two weeks since you had tried and succeeded in making sure you had avoided the man known in the base as Ghost—or to you, simply known as Simon Riley, your ex-husband. Every single instance that you were both placed in the same room (mostly in Price’s office), you both acted like you didn’t know each other, it was hard knowing just how close the man was after so long of a separation from each other.
But as much of an avoidance you’ve made for the Lieutenant, the same could not be said for the two Sergeants that had been dead set in making themselves both your companion while in the base but as well as your guard dogs from the ballsy few that would dare ask you out on a date. You appreciated the effort as much as it was not needed knowing it earned a dangerous glare from your ex in the process.
“Looks like you’re right at home.”
You jerked your head up from the files you were arranging at the voice of an all too familiar woman. A smile rested on your face at the sight of one Kate Laswell, your former boss’ wife.
“Kate.” You smiled an exhausted sigh escaping your lips at the sight of the woman. Both her and her wife had been the pair that knew what you had been through since your divorce and she was one of the two people that saw behind the façade you had decided to show the world.
“How are you holding up?” She inquired.
“Doing better.” You assured her. “Just a slight problem but nothing I can’t deal with now.”
“Oh no. Is your ex-husband bothering you again? I told you to just say the name and I’ll find some dirt on him in a heartbeat.”
You chuckled, knowing how that would be close to impossible with the man’s stand and rank in the Taskforce.
“Simon Riley.” You said instead and watched the way her eyes widen upon realization.
“Why did I not put two and two together?” She snorted realizing the small misjudgment on her part. “Does John know?”
You shook your head. You didn’t know how, but in the weeks of working at the base, you had been successful enough not to let the small detail spill. It was for both of your sakes and you feared that if you told the man, you would be fired and not him, not that you would want him to choose between the two of you.
“It would be a shame if John couldn’t keep you working for him because of your past with Ghost. I’m actually able to see his files being sent to me on time for once and he’s less stress in this past week for once.”
You blushed, knowing that that was a compliment, something that was rarely spoken by one Kate Laswell in the years of working for her wife.
“I genuinely don’t want to go either.” You spoke honestly. “Even with the situation.”
“Will you keep the information to yourself for now?” She inquired. “What does Ghost think of this?”
“I haven’t talk to him since I’ve gotten here.” You spoke honestly. “And I think it would be better if don’t talk to him about it either.”
“Talk to who about?”
Both of you had jerked your head towards the owner of the voice and it was Price with your husband, Soap, and Gaz in tow. You looked panicked at Kate hoping she could help you out this predicament with the man in the very room with them.
“My wife’s been asking how she’s been holding up since the divorce and if she’s gotten around to talking to her ex.” Kate brushed off and you wanted to face palm yourself, not the answer you were hoping for her to give.
“Wait you were married?” Gaz piped in with surprise.
“Was.” You corrected, eyes glancing towards Simon for a moment before turning your attention right back to the younger man. “But it’s nothing to worry about, you know how Kate’s wife is.” You tried your best to reassure everyone.
“Well that bloke lost something good that’s for sure.” Soap quipped right back with a flirty wink. You’ve learned this was the default with the man. “Right Lt?”
Both you and Kate found yourself looking at the man and it somehow clicked to him that you both were now more than aware of the currently predicament that fell before you and without another word left the office, slamming the door behind him.
To this very day, Simon still can’t understand why he had signed those papers. Why didn’t he just talk with you and made a compromise. Instead he became an asshole that avoided any forms of communications with you until he was left with no other choice but divorce papers waiting for him at home and every single trace of you no longer in the home you two once shared.
In the deepest depths of his bedside drawer was the divorce papers that officially separated him from you, the two ring boxes that housed his wedding ring and the engagement ring he had bought for you. Around his neck, alongside his Dog tag was your wedding ring—the same wedding ring you had left on top of the coffee table of your home, with the divorce papers right under it.
It was his fears that finally came to life and he truly didn’t know why his body automatically signed without even reaching out to you first. To this day, in the years that has passed he still wonder what his life and relationship could be if he fought for your marriage.
Would he still be married to you right now? Would the two of you finally have the family you had always wanted? Maybe by now your first kid would have been three, he had always dreamed of having a daughter. A darling little girl that was a spitting image of you, a daughter he would protect with his life over and over again.
That could have been his life, but he was far too stupid for his own good. He was too much of a bastard that ruins everything good that comes into his life. He pays the price every single night he comes home to his apartment—empty and lacked the warmth that only you could ever give to someone like him.
He made his bed and he was sleeping in tears because of it.
“There he is, good you’ve got your arse here, LT.”
Another one of the mistakes he seems to be making in his life was joining the rest of the team in the pub and realizing that you have come to join them this time around.
Bloody fucking hell you were as beautiful as the first day he had ever laid eyes on you. There was the twinkle in your eyes he had once thought he had diminished as you continued on with whatever conversation you were having with Gaz with Price listening on. You had on your favorite red crepe dress that slightly showed some cleavage but not enough to be indecent, with your favorite locket that he had brought for you while you were still dating, and the first ever expensive Cartier watch you had brought for yourself (which Simon would have more than willingly bought for you if you allowed it) while saving up your checks.
Fate was nothing but a cruel sick man for giving this sight of you in front of him and never allowing him the taste he always craved. A gift that wasn’t his to accept—anymore.
“You know how traffic is, Johnny.” He muttered finding himself sitting beside the man and in the process finding himself sitting right in front of you in the process.
“Bullshit,” Soap snorted. “Stopped by a bonnie we didn’t know about?”
Simon glanced towards you, the momentary hurt that passed through your eyes before you continued on with your conversation with Gaz, now hearing you were both talking about your Uni days and how you found yourself involved with working for Laswell’s wife all those years ago.
“Don’t have the time nor the energy for another headache in my life.” He spoke realizing that it was the wrong thing to say with you in front of him. He could have said it if you were not here, but not in your presence, it diminishes every single thing he had ever had with you.
It wasn’t what he meant but he couldn’t truly take it back.
“I can second that.” You spoke finally meeting his eyes this time. An unrecognizable look in your eyes as you stared right at him. “And this is coming from someone that’s already made a mistake of ever getting married to a man in the military.”
This has opened the floodgate for everyone in the table to question you about your apparent divorce. He had no one else to blame for this than himself. He listened in now as you continued on answering questions about your relationship with him and the eventual divorce, but made sure it was vague enough not to have fingers pointed at him.
“So, you loved the man more than life itself and all that, why divorce?” Soap had asked the million dollar question.
“It’s gets tiresome to love someone that doesn’t want to help himself.” You spoke honestly. “Year of trying to understand him, only to push shoved away over and over again, it hurts and it gets tiresome. I just had to go before the love turns to hate.”
In the years since the divorce, there was never closure between the two of you. The forms of communications that you both had were mostly about him being deployed again or of you and your plans of moving around or changing careers. Never did either of you had the much needed closure that you both deserved—until now, not directed at him.
“If any of you ever attempt getting involved with a guy or girl make sure you’re serious about the relationship a hundred percent, not fifty, not seventy-five, not even fucking ninety. Because that small fraction you’re not giving them might be the very reason why everything falls apart.”
Simon finds himself blinking at the words that now escaped your lips. The downright resentment that still lingered in your tongue even after everything that had occurred between the two of you. He shouldn’t have signed those fucking divorce papers.
Marriage Counseling, they should have had marriage counselling like you had begged from him all those years ago.
He stood, excusing himself to order the next round of drinks. He doesn’t have it in him anymore to listen to your words cutting him to the very core.
One of the biggest mistake about accepting Price’s offer of going out with the rest of the team for a quick drink was forgetting your non-existing alcohol tolerance. As the drink was now swimming through your blood stream, your lips become looser and there were few moments were you had almost spilled the fact that your ex-husband just happens to be sitting in front of you in the table you shared with the rest of 141.
“You sure you’ll be alright to head home on your own?” Your boss has inquired the moment it was announced the pub was closing up for the early morning.
You nodded with a smile, but the warmth that you were certain painted your skin and the dazed eyes, you were all too sure that it would be a big mistake for you to do. Go knows how dangerous it would be for a drunk like you to head home all on your own.
“I’ll take her home.” Simon announced and before you could protest, John had nodded agreeing that it would be the best thing to do and you couldn’t protest or show even a smidge of irritation as you were given a death glare by your ex-husband.
“Thank you for letting me join you guys.” You spoke towards your boss, the giggly duo of Soap and Gaz. “I’ll text once I get home.” You promised them following Simon out of the pub.
You took a deep breath as the cool morning air sobered you up for a moment as you waited for the man with his car. Frowning when you realized the man didn’t have his car with him but rather his death machine known as his motorcycle.
“Here.” He muttered practically shoving an all too familiar helmet towards you.
Like quick work, you had put on the helmet, ensuring to adjust the strap before the man does. You were still unprepared to be in close proximity with the man but here you were.
Watching him pull down the foot peg, he turned to you waiting for you to ride him—ride his motorcycle. With a deep breath you rode behind him, the skirt riding up your legs and he was quick to pull it down for your own decency before revving the engine on.
“Hold on tight.” He ordered and your body was on autopilot as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he sped off.
You know it was the alcohol but you find yourself smelling him, the all too familiar smell of his musk and cologne—the same cologne you had given him when he told you were promoted to Lieutenant. Your head rested on his back, cheek squished against the expansion of his back, feeling the way his back tense at your touch as it had the same effect for you feeling his warmth all over again.
“Where?” He questioned you as the bike halted at the stoplight.
You slurred your words, but you did your best to tell him directions to where your apartment was. Your sober self would have slapped you at the back of the head for letting Simon know about your whereabouts, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to know anymore.
For a moment as the winds blew against your cheeks, you were brought back to the memories of your time together. How you feared his driving and his bike more than anything else in the world but every single time he made sure you were at your safest with him, always did even in this moment.
You remembered the dates you would both have at night when he was at his most sleepless. By the park, your arms wrapped around him as his head rested on your shoulders. How you had carried so much of his nightmare even when you truly knew nothing but what he would let you know which wasn’t much and would only be in the instance that you would have accidentally heard during his nightmares.
You remembered how tired you were as much as you loved him, how much he had meant the world to you in that very moment but slowly but surely it wasn’t the same anymore. You felt the resentment before the anger for everything he wasn’t willing to give you. You gave him everything thing but he could barely give you anything in return.
“We’re here.” Simon announced, pulling away from him you turned and he was right. You were back in your apartment and you didn’t realize how fast time has flown since as you were deep in your thoughts.
Hopping down the bike with the man helping you, you turned to him and your mouth moved before you could stop yourself.
“Want to head inside—for coffee at least as a thank you?”
“I think coffee and a conversation would be the best thing for the both of us to do at this point in time, Love.”
You felt your pulse quicken as everything single thing you had talked about in the pub was coming back to bite you in the ass. Simon has his ulterior motive after all for wanting to escort you back home.
All you did was nod, heading to the door with the man following closely behind. You felt your hands shaking but you had succeeded in keying the door open. Opening the door for him, you walked further inside, opening the lights and toeing off the flats you had on.
You placed your wallet and keys on the coffee table and found yourself sitting on the couch waiting for the man to follow you.
You heard Simon close the door, the sound of the lock being turned and the sound of his leather jacket had you worried for what was to come.
“I fucking take you seriously with the bloody helmet still on your head.” He pointed out as he stood right in front of you, unclasping the helmet from your head and for the first time in a long time, you saw him up close and the way the darkness of his eye bags was the most prominent about him—it had gotten so much worse than when you were still married. Was it because of you?
“Sorry.” You mumbled as you watched him place the helmet on top of the coffee table alongside most of your things.
“Where’s the kitchen?”
You pointed towards you left and the man had made himself at him. The sound of cupboard being opened and the all too familiar muttering of horrible instant coffee you always wanted was heard. You wanted to let out a giggle but the sudden fear of the reality of your decision brought back something you never thought you would ever relive.
You sigh elbows digging onto your thighs, as your slumped your face into your hands. Why did you offer to have him here? Why did you accept the offer of him taking you back home? Why did you accept Kate’s offer of working for John? Why did you decide to divorce Simon?
In your own mini-panic attack, the smell of vanilla latte had you pulling away from your hands and you saw the cup of coffee already in the table and Simon was already sitting in front of you, without the surgical mask and without the figurative mask he was wearing at the base.
“Why are you doing this to me?” He questioned.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of all the places you could work why the base?”
“It’s not like I knew you were working for Price.” You snort. “It was Kate that suggested I work there—a new environment for me after everything that happened.”
Kate had called it her own version of exposure therapy. You truly appreciated her help even after knowing your ex-husband was working there in the same vicinity as you.
“You could have left?”
You snort. Aside from everything that came with the military, the money was too good to leave—but that was not something you would want to discuss with Simon knowing his intent to still provide for you even with the ink on the divorce papers were still drying.
“Why would I? You and I have nothing between us.” You spoke, knife sharp as his own words of calling you a headache to him.
“What you said to the team is that the real reason why you filed for divorce?”
All you could do was nod.
“You could have talk to me that you weren’t happy anymore we could have made it work.”
“No you won’t, Si.” You shook your head, arms crossed against your chest, you feared the words that would be thrown between the two of you now especially at your state. “I would have made it work.”
“What do you want me to do then? What could I have done then? You say one thing but mean something else?”
“Because every single time I wanted you to open up to me, you closed yourself up even more!” You spat right at him now. “Do you know how hard it was for me to bare myself to you about the shit in my life and in my family only to be reciprocated with how your family was fucked up but not an explanation for it?”
“That’s none of your business.” His voice grows dark, it was a sensitive topic.
“Then why were we even married if it wasn’t my business?” Your voice growing louder now, exasperated by this conversation. “What was the use of our vows if you would keep the smallest things a secret from me?”
“It’s not fucking small!” He screamed right back at you and you instinctively flinched at his voice then. Why was he being so cruel to you now?
“When I married you, I accepted you for who you are, I accepted that you can’t truly tell me what your missions were about or about whatever details about your deployment were. But even just something, anything that would make me believe that I was something more than a whore you could fuck and a maid that would take care of the house and cook you fucking food would have been appreciated.”
“You were my wife, wasn’t that enough?”
“No it was not, Simon.” You spat. “You never made me feel like I was truly your wife when you shut yourself down after coming home to me. You weren’t the same man that I had accidentally spilled coffee on when we first met.”
“If you knew me for the things I’ve been through you wouldn’t look at me the same way.”
“And how would you know that?” You questioned him. “How could you think for me when you don’t even know what I would think of you after everything we’ve been through?”
“You want to know the truth?”
“Yes. Maybe that way I can finally move on from anything that has to do with you.”
You know that was the wrong thing to say as the man cracked his neck and began to talk. About his life, about the abuse he had to endure at the hands of his father. He began to talk about the new beginning of his life when his father died and everyone tried their best to recover. He told you of his mother that he loved more than anything else at that point, of his brother, of his sister-in-law, and of his young nephew Joseph.
He told you about how he was finally at peace with the trauma of his life back then before things gotten to hell and back. He told you of the man named Roba, he told you of the abuse he had to once again go through at the hands of Roba’s men, physically, mentally, and sexually. He told you why he hated confined spaced after being buried alive in a coffin with a man named Vernon, a rotten corpse that he had to use the jaw of to escape death.
He told you of the death of his family, of Marcus Washington killing his family. Killing his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew that didn’t deserve being involved in anything the mission was about. He told you how he had to burn the bodies of what was left of his family and his identity in the process. You learned then why he was called Ghost and what it had meant for him and his past that continued to haunt him.
You were left stunned, unable to form words about everything that has happened to your husband. But it was the fact that now everything about him made sense. All the little things about his personality of why he was the man that sat in front of you today. It all made sense and it scared you that he was right. How you truly didn’t know what to say or what to feel now that you’ve learned of his past that he tried so hard to hide from you.
“Happy?”
“Don’t be cruel, Simon.” You whispered now, the tears were slowly forming from your eyes now, you wanted to cry for him, to mourn the family that he had lost and for adding yourself into the pain he was now enduring.
“Cruel?” He laughed, no humor in his words, malice was more evident. “What’s cruel is you still using my last name and airing out our dirty laundry to the men I work with instead of talking to me first.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, stung by his words. He was right but you weren’t going to admit it right now. A small ounce of pride still clawing its way out of you. “And you know why I still used your last name.”
It was your family. You wanted to erase was little traces of your family remained. Even in the divorce, you always had it in mind to remain a Riley. It was better than having to be the ghost of your former self all over again.
He stood now, knowing it was all he needed to know. He walked away but somehow a lingering thought had you opening your lips all over again.
“Why didn’t you fight for me, Si? Why did you sign the papers back then if you truly didn’t want to break up?”
“Because no matter how much I loved and needed you in my life, I will always choose your happiness before my own.” He answered, opening the door and leaving.
The sound of his bike echoing as you were left to mourn the closure of your relationship with the man that had meant the world to you. With all the regret finally coming full force you were left knowing that you had broken the man more than he already was and there was no turning back from it anymore.
It’s been well over a year now since you have been hired as Captain John Price’s secretary. Things were slowly but surely getting better for you and your career. Since the day you had talked with Simon, you wouldn’t say things between the two of you were getting better but you were civil with each other. You’ve interacted with him a few times, especially when it came to paper works but nothing more was said between the two of you.
Even with Price’s rule of not getting yourself involved with anyone in the team, it was becoming a mission for both Gaz and Soap to set you up with people on the base. Doctors or medics were somehow their number one target for you, but every single time, you find yourself relenting to just one date but never pushing for something more.
After knowing the truth about your ex, you didn’t have the heart to be so cruel to him more than you already were working in the base as him. Your free time away from base were spent with hobbies you had while still being married to Simon, baking and journaling, it was relief to be able to do it now with a new light was shed to the events of your marriage failing. You’ve also come to accept the offer of Kate’s wife’s therapist. It was a big help to be able to talk to someone else about everything you’ve been through.
You’ve learned to accept that you had your own mistake in the failure of your marriage just as much as Simon did. But your therapist has also come to mention that you needed to begin your own journey of healing from the what ifs of it, and live in the aftermath as painful as it was for you now.
“That dangerous?” You found yourself fearing for the worse at the conversation you were having with your boss as he explained to you the vague details of the upcoming mission him and the rest of the Task Force had for today.
With the chaos of prepping and planning, your boss was constantly on his feet and you were following him every step away for most of it to field calls and handle most of the paperworks to be sent out to sign and shipped to the higher ups. But to know a glimpse of what was happening and how your ex-husband would be involved in all of this worried you more than you would like to admit.
“It is what it is, if it meant a safer and better world, we would do it over and over again.” He explained.
“Just be careful, I still want to keep my job and I can’t if you’re dead, Boss.” You teased.
“Laswell can still be able to deal with you if I’m gone.” He retorted right back earning a quick laugh from you.
One thing that you had gotten so used to was his humor and how you had showcased your own as time went by working for the man. You appreciated him for being one of the two best bosses you had ever had in your career.
“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the mission?” You quipped right back.
“I should.” He chuckled standing right up in his full height. “Can you go check on the boys for me while I do?”
You could have refused, but a small part of you wanted to check up on Simon. Standing up, you had made your round, first stopping by Soap’s room to check up on him and notify him about the mission. Soap being the man that he was already suggesting you another man in the base beforehand.
“How about Micah? Pretty bloke that just joined the Medic team.” He began shoving the rest of his things into his duffle bag.
“Johnny, for the last time, I’m not into those pretty type you think I’m into.” You tried to indulge him in the conversation for now knowing it would ease him from the mission.
“What is your type so me and Gaz could actually find someone for you?” He pouted.
“Tall, blonde, dark and broody and with a heavy Manchester-accent.” You indulged him with description of the only man you actually loved.
“Why the fuck are you describing Ghost?” He snorts. “You got a thing for him? I thought you swore off anyone from the military?”
“Never said it was Ghost, Johnny.” You quipped right back. You hugged him and have him wrap his arms around you right back. “Be careful for me will you, I can’t live my life here in the base knowing you or Gaz aren’t here trying to set me up with anyone and everyone in the base including the married ones.”
“Hey we didn’t know Wilson was married.” He protested as he pulled away to look at you in offense.
“At this point I’ve already had dinner with half of the base, let’s keep it to a minimum when you get back. I might show you my ex so you can have an idea of what my type is.”
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on top of the head before leaving to head to the meeting room.
You next stop was Gaz which wasn’t much of a journey with how close his room was to Soap’s. Knocking inside, you were immediately welcomed into the arms of Gaz. Unlike Soap that had been fixated with setting you up with someone in the base, Gaz was more focused on the next get together you could go to after the mission.
“I think me and Soap could convince Price to have a weekend in his vacation house in Cornwall.”
You nodded knowing it wouldn’t take much to convince Price if it meant helping the rest of the team with de-stressing and ensuring everyone has recovered mentally from the mission. But it also meant that you would be in charge of cooking knowing you and Price were the only ones that knew how to cook and you wanted your boss to actually have time to recover himself in the process.
“As long as you help me with grocery and prepping then you got a deal.” You winked pulling away from him with a smile already excited to bake them your famous apple pie they constantly beg you to make for them since the first time making it for them.
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on the cheeks and just like Soap, finding himself heading out with his bag already at hand.
It now meant you had one last person you needed to stop by before the mission prep. You took your time somehow rehearsing what you could probably say to the man for his upcoming mission. You had your worry and you knew this was a dangerous mission.
Knocking on his door, you heard the gruff response from the other side of the door.
“Simon?” You called and immediately heard the door being unlocked.
You were faced with him wearing his skull balaclava mask. This was the side of him that you never gotten used to see but it was a part of him that you could never truly erase from him.
“What’s wrong?” He asked you allowing you to walk inside.
“Price told me to notify you about heading out for the mission.” You explained. “And I just—I just wanted to ask you to be careful on the mission.”
“Always.” He nodded.
A moment of silence has passed between the two of you before you were reminded of your therapist’s words. There was nothing wrong if you extended an olive branch to the man after everything was out in the open.
“After the mission, I would love to have you join us in Price’s cabin in Cornwall for a quick vacation too.” You added. “I know you’re busy with whatever you need to do to distress after a mission, but I would think it would be good to you if you joined. I can opts this one out if you’re more comfortable with that.”
“I’d go.” He nodded. “But I want you to join along and I want you to make me that lovely cheesecake you always make for me after I come home from deployment.”
You smiled knowing that it was always the same, a way to a man’s heart is always through his stomach.
“Anything else you want?” You asked wanting to give in to his all too simple request.
“And I want us to at least be friends, you’re part of the team now and they care for you and it wouldn’t do anyone good for us to act like we can’t stand each other.”
You nodded, heart aching a little at what he wanted. Friends. That was all he wanted and you would gladly compromise this time for him if that was what makes him truly happy.
“Friends.” You smiled, taking a hesitant step towards him for a hug but stopped mid movement as he pulled you right into his arms. The all too familiar warmth that consumed him.
“I wished things would have been different between the two of us.” He whispered kissing the top of your head. “I’d give you the world when I couldn’t give you myself fully.”
You closed your eyes wrapping your arms around his broad back.
“I wished I was strong enough for the two of us.” You whispered the tears slowly forming your eyes. “I wished I stayed a little longer for the two of us.”
“I never stopped loving you, Love. We might not be married anymore but you will be the only woman I will ever love truly with all my life and with all my soul.”
“You too, Si.” You whispered looking up at him allowing the tears to flow freely from your eyes now. “After everything that had happened between us, I will always love you.”
It was the middle of the night when you heard the familiar ringtone of your old phone. The same phone that only Simon knew the number to. You blinked away the sleep as you pulled the phone right out of the bedside table.
An unfamiliar number took you by surprise and for a moment you wanted to not answer it thinking it might be a telemarketer—but something had pushed you to press the answer button and hear whoever was on the other line.
“Hello?” You whispered clearing your throat.
“Mrs. Riley?” The familiar voice of John had you tensing. You found yourself sitting up from the bed as he began to introduce himself and why he had called.
“What happened to Simon?” You questioned checking your bedside clock to see what time it was.
It was just past midnight, three weeks since they had left for their mission and this was the first time you had gotten any contact to any one of them.
“As of right now, we are not sure if he would make it through the night. If you want we could have you someone fetch you to see him.”
You felt your world still at the news. Just when things were finally moving into the right direction between you and Simon.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” You assured hanging up and changing into some sweatshirt and sweatpants.
The travel to the now familiar base was a daze to you as you drove. You weren’t much of a religious person, but your lips did not stop moving as you prayed. You prayed that your husband would be alright, you bargained that you would make things right with him if it meant he would stay.
“Don’t leave me, Simon.” You whispered over and over again until you arrived to the base.
You had ignored most of the surprise that the soldier on duty had shown at your sudden appearance—the fact that you were in just your ratty clothes was also something you chose to ignore as you made a beeline to where the infirmary was.
Huddled in front of the door was your boss, John, Soap, and Gaz. Each and every single one of them injured in their own way—mostly superficial from the bandages that plastered all over their beaten faces.
“John.” You called having three heads turning to you in question. “How is he?” You questioned as the tears begin to fall from your eyes at the reality of the situation coming to crush you. “How is my husband?”
The realization washed over all of them, of the secret you and Simon had hidden from everyone. The weight was too much as you were wrapped in the arms of the family you had found yourself becoming a part of.
“Will he be alright?” You pleaded, holding onto John’s vest. “Please tell me he will be alright.” You begged falling to your knees in front of him.
“The doctors are doing their best, Love.” John reassured kneeling in front of you, wrapping you into his arms as you continued to sob. “But Simon took most of the impact from the explosion.”
The reality scared you so much. You tried you best to remember the last interaction you had with Simon, the hug, the promise of a new beginning, and everything else in between. It all came crashing down to this very point.
There was a very big chance that you will finally lose Simon and it scared you so much more than anything in this world. You couldn’t lose him, not like this, not when there was so much left between the two of you to make up for.
“He can’t leave me, John.” You whimpered. “He promised me he wouldn’t leave me like this.” You screamed at the top of your lungs.
You were made aware of the vows you had made to each other when you got married at the court house. Of how he had promised to the best of his abilities that he wouldn’t die in the line of duty before he could have the chance to retire. He promised you a family, he promised you the world, and he promised you your happiness. He was your family, he was your world, and he was your happiness that you realize only when it was too late.
For the next few weeks, the world around you had become blur. You were now much of a permanent fixture of the Taskforce’s base. Morning and the afternoon was spent still working for Price, especially with the piling number of paperworks the mission had caused and your nights were spent in the infirmary, watching over Simon that has yet to awake from his slumber.
When the doctors had given you the green light that you can see him—it took you hours before you did. Even after John, Soap, and Gaz had finished with their own visit, it took so much of what little strength you had to finally see him in his state.
Broken bones, laceration, head trauma, blood loss and amongst the other injuries that the doctors has informed you should have killed him but he was still alive even in his current state. He still had fight in him, he was still fighting to keep alive.
“I’ve come to realize that post-mission Price was a whole different breed of a grump, more than he usually is.” You began talking to your still unconscious ex.
The doctor had told you about him being able to hear your voice and you took the opportunity to talk his ear off with him unable to give his usual sarcastic comments or grunts as response. There were days you told him about your day at work, days where you told him about what you had been doing since you left your home and tried and failed to move on from him, and there were days where you apologized to him, regretting the divorce and everything else that been the reason for the demise of your marriage.
“I think since the divorce I’ve realized a lot of shit about us.” You sighed leaning against the uncomfortable plastic chair. “If you wake up, I’ll try to do my best to convince you to take me back.” You mused arms crossed against your chest. “I know you don’t have as much of a happy memory after what happened to your family, but when you wake up, I want to make sure we make as much happy memories as we could together, I want you to tell me about what your Ma was like, what kind of brother Tommy was like, and how adorable Joseph was, I want all of that and more with you.”
You wiped away the tears that have yet to fall, you didn’t want to cry. You thought that you didn’t have any more tears to shed. The gravity of almost losing Simon was the wakeup call you needed and now it was nothing more than a waiting game until he wakes up.
“I fucking can’t be your friend, Si.” You admit. “I can’t be happy with just being your friend. I want you to be my husband again, Si. After almost losing you I know I can’t live knowing we haven’t fixed our relationship. I’ll do anything and everything to make it up to you, all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you.”
“Anything?”
You almost jumped from where you sat at the sight of the man whose eyes were now focused on you.
“Simon?”
“Am I just high or did you say what you did?”
“What?”
“That you would make up for everything?” He muttered groggily.
“I did.” You nodded blinking in disbelief that he was here, awake. Alive.
“Then marry me. Let me make it right this time, Love. I promise I’ll make it work, I’ll do my best to make you happy the way that you deserve.”
“Yes.” You answered almost immediately, finding yourself giggling about how ridiculous his second proposal was with his current state—but you didn’t want it any other way.
He requested for you to take his dog tag around his neck off and only then did you notice that your wedding ring enclosed around his necklace. Even with the years that passed, he still had it with him. The very same ring you two had brought together before you had headed to the courthouse for your marriage.
“Can I add another stipulation?” He held onto your free hand.
“Anything.” You smiled rubbing your hand against the callousness of his hand. “Anything to make it work, Si.”
“No more blind dates from the Sergeants.”
“They could never hold a candle to you, Simon.” You giggled leaning in for a kiss, the weight that rested on your shoulders slowly easing away.
You were home, you were back in the arms of Simon after all was said and done.
#cod mw2#simon riley x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley fanfic#fem reader#simon riley mw2#simon riley x female reader#cod fic#mw2 fic#mw2 x you#mw2 x reader#ghost riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley angst#simon riley fanfiction#call of duty
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Gossip || Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader
Summary: Kyra wants to kiss you, and you want a date.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: Something short & sweet & (as always) unedited. I hope you enjoy :)
“Will- um… You know that one cafe that you really like? Do you want to go there? With me, in particular?”
At Kyra's hesitantly sounded words, you had to bite back your smile. You don’t think you’d ever seen this particular Australian so nervous before.
You watched Kyra’s almond brown eyes bounce around, unable to look at anything but your face. Her hands jittered nervously at her sides, and the poor girls’ face was about as red as the tomato you’d cut up for your salad the night before.
“The cafe I like, hm? No, I’m not sure I do. I like a lot of cafes, you know?” You couldn’t help but tease the Aussie. After all, the girl was intent on pestering you and all of your teammates, so who was to say you wouldn’t tease her now?
You’d happened to know that the girl was going to ask you out sometime soon, as Katie McCabe had accidentally let the secret out, having heard it from her own Australian girlfriend.
Not a single secret could be kept on the Arsenal women’s team, which was something that you’d become all-too-aware of when you’d transferred to the team over the summer. You’d arrived at the same time as Kyra, and the two of you had become fast friends due to your similar ages and interests.
You’d quickly learned that a secret was not a secret if you told anyone on the girls’ team. Everybody had their own friends, and their partners, and their besties and, soon enough, a secret would become a known fact throughout every single person on the team. It was how you’d found out about Katie and Caitlin in the first place, having not been aware of it during the World Cup.
Looking back, it was quite obvious that Caitlin and Katie had been dating anyone with eyes. However, you’d turned off all social media during the World Cup so that you could focus on yourself and get as far as you could with your American team. As it stood, that wasn’t very far at all.
That was all besides the point, however, because the next secret to have burned through Arsenal like a wildfire was about Leah and Lia. The two weren’t a couple, as far as you knew, but you knew that they had kissed– more than one time, according to Victoria Pelova.
Now, it was Kyra’s turn to be ravaged by Arsenal’s inability to keep secrets. You would have thought that it was high school and not a full grown women’s football team with the way everyone gossiped. Everyone knew that you and Kyra had feelings for each other– that is, everyone but you.
Apparently, the two of you looked like lovesick fools anytime you were together. Emily Fox had told you that she’d never seen you as happy as you were when Kyra was by your side.
Caitlin Foord had told you that Kyra was never as carefree and herself when you weren’t near.
Hell, even Beth Mead and her girlfriend, Viv, had even tried to get the two of you to go on a double date with them, not knowing that the two of you hadn’t already been dating.
Then, of course, there was Katie McCabe herself, who had notably said that you two looked like you wanted to fuck when you locked eyes across the field during training.
And so, of course, you knew that Kyra liked you, and Kyra knew that you liked her. It had just been yesterday when Kyra had tried to kiss you while you were watching a movie in your apartment. You’d nearly let her, before you’d pushed her away.
“Hey, what was that for??!” Kyra had said, cheeks red. You’d never been this close to the Aussie before, so close that you could count the dark freckles on her cheeks if you really wanted to. So close that you could smell the cinnamon toast that the two of you had eaten just before sitting down to watch the movie. So close that you could have let her kiss you, which you didn’t.
“What are you doing?” You asked, making sure that your voice remained light. Kyra appeared confused, furrowing her eyebrows at you.
It had taken all of the strength in your body to push Kyra away, ever so gently. You’d been waiting for so long to kiss the other girl, and to call her yours, that the fact that you’d been so close to finally getting what you wanted made your chest ache.
However, you’d always been a romantic at heart, and so you simply smiled at Kyra as the girl glowered at you.
“What am I doing? What are you doing? I’m trying to kiss you!” As Kyra continued to be confused, her voice rose. You became aware of her Australian accent, which thickened as she tried to figure out why there was a specific look in your eyes and why you were smirking. It was a look that she was familiar with– one that you had on whenever you helped the Australian with a prank, or when you teased another teammate during training.
“Oh? And you think I want to kiss you? Before a first date?” You asked Kyra, fighting back a little giggle as Kyra frowned.
“We’ve hung out loads of times! We’ve cuddled each other to sleep– and you’re not counting those as dates?” Kyra asked, looking more and more like a kicked puppy as you sat there, smiling at the other girl.
“No, those were not dates, thank you very much! There were no flowers, and we didn’t even hold hands, and we only cuddled each other to sleep because we were drunk! I didn’t even think that you’d remember that night.” You elbowed Kyra, and the other girl shook her head at you.
“Okay, then. Fine. Go on a date with me!” Kyra said, and you raised your eyebrows at her.
“Really? Kyra, my love, you can do better than that!” You chastised, and saw Kyra’s frown deepen. Her eyebrows furrowed ever further, deepening the lines in her face. If she didn’t stop looking so damn adorable, you swore you would kiss her very soon.
“You want flowers, don’t you?” Kyra asked, although she sounded more like she was making a statement than anything else.
“Yup!” You said, grinning at Kyra. “Show me just how much you liiiike me.” You drew out the “i” in “like”, enjoying the look of utter frustration and impatience on Kyra’s face.
“But I wanted to kiss you.” The girl said, frowning once more.
“Ask me out, and then we can kiss all you want, love.” You said, your voice less teasing now. Truthfully, you wanted to kiss Kyra as well, but you also wanted to see what going on a date with the girl would really look like.
So, that very night, Kyra had gone out with Caitlin and Steph to pick out flowers for you. Steph had suggested that she get you chocolates as well, while Caitlin had suggested chocolates. Kyra had gotten both– despite knowing that you wouldn’t reject her, she wanted to impress you and she wanted your first date to be as perfect as possible.
Kyra had had to buy two boxes of chocolates, however, once she realized that Caitlin had eaten half of them.
And now, Kyra stood at the step of your front door, with a white dress shirt and a black jacket draped over it, as well as black pants and shoes. Her hair was down, and you had to resist the urge to push a strand of hair from her face.
The girl held roses in one hand, and a box of chocolates in the other. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, taking the roses from Kyra’s extended hand.
“Thank you, Kyra.” You whispered. Slowly, you took the Australian’s hand in your own and pulled it up to your lips, giving the back of the girls’ hand a small kiss.
When you looked up, Kyra was blushing even more, which you thought was impossible. For a moment, you thought that the poor girl was going to pass out, but she remained standing.
“I’m just going to put these in a vase on the counter. If you want to come in, you’re more than welcome to.” You told Kyra, the flowers in your hand. Kyra nodded slowly and followed you in.
It only took a moment to set the box of chocolates and flowers, and when you came back, Kyra held her hand out to you. The girl smiled, more reserved and shy than you’d ever seen her in your life. You let Kyra take your hand in hers, and enjoyed the feeling of the warm skin of her palm against your own.
Kyra dragged you right out of your house, your own clothes comfortable but similar to Kyra’s in the fact that they were formal.
That afternoon, Kyra gave you the best first date that you’d ever had. She bought you your favorite coffee, ordering for you due to the fact that she knew your order by heart. Then, the girl dragged you halfway across London to some botanical garden that Leah had told her about, knowing just how much you loved plants and nature.
The entire time, Kyra held your hand. You two shared laughs, and jokes, and just talked. You’d dreamed about doing this with Kyra for the months that you’d known her, and the feeling of finally being able to go on a date with the girl was one that you hoped you’d never forget.
When the time came to drop you back off at your house, you and Kyra stood on your doorstep again. She held both of your hands, now, and smiled at you in a way that made the dimples on her pretty cheeks stand out.
“Can I kiss you now?” Kyra asked, sounding only a little bit impatient when she did so. You intentionally paused just for a moment, before you grinned at Kyra.
“I would like that.” You answered. Before you could blink, the girl tugged you into her and wrapped her arms around your upper back. You only had a moment to giggle, allowing your eyes to flutter closed as you tilted your head upward, catching Kyra’s lips with your own.
Your hands gently came up to frame the girl’s face, allowing you to tilt her head just the way you wanted. You caught her bottom lip between your own, and you swore you melted right on the spot.
Your head was in the clouds, the warmth of the other girls’ lips on your own enough to set you on fire. In fact, you swore that your skin was burning, and as you began to part, Kyra pulled you right back in again. Kyra kissed gently, and sweetly, and her lips tasted like honey from whatever sweet she’d eaten while the two of you had been walking through the garden.
Finally, after a few more moments, you two did part. However, Kyra didn’t let you go quite yet, looking at you but almost as though she wasn’t truly there.
“Kyra?” You asked, unable to contain the smile from your voice, your lips seeming to have a mind of their own in the way that they refused to stop grinning.
The girl finally seemed to come back to herself and grinned back at you, smiling.
“Hi.” Kyra said.
“Hi, love.” You said back, and Kyra’s smile grew impossibly wider.
“Can I come in?” Kyra asked, and you laughed a little bit. Only Kyra would have the audacity to invite herself into your home after a first date.
“Oh?” You didn’t even know what to say, halfway between turning the girl down just to tease her further, while also wanting to kiss her more and more and more.
“Please? You told me that once I took you on a date, I could kiss you all I want. I’m ready to cash that in!” Well, you couldn’t argue with that logic, could you?
The rest of the afternoon was spent with you in Kyra’s arms, kissing and only half-watching the movie that Kyra had insisted upon putting on.
Of course, it was Kyra’s fault as well that the entire team caught on to your antics when you showed up in a hoodie the next morning, a light hickey just below your jaw poorly hidden with makeup. Now, it was your turn to become the team’s gossip, but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
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Thinking about terrible terrible boys who use Darling’s social anxiety against themselves
Kaveh who keeps you home because the world is just far too mean, just look at his roommate if you need any reminder. It’s putting himself out there that resulted in his debt, it’s the outside that caused you hurt don’t ever forget. It’s fine, he’ll lavish you enough to fill all you need, you really don’t need any other contact than himself!… and the forced proximity of Alhaitham grrr.
Ayato who keeps bringing you in important social events just to see you cling to him. He doesn’t teach you any etiquette, so you never know what’s socially unacceptable. You stand so close to him, trembling, your voice barely louder than a whisper. It serves as a reminder, see how bad the world is? All of them are vile people. If you run away, who’s to say you won’t end up with someone worse than him? (It’s terrible, how you keep waking these sadistic urges in him. He’s a good man with lots of self restraint but still a man.)
Wriothesley who got you locked up in his office. You complain about boredom, about his behaviour, but he only swat your worries away. He’s not worried about you ever running off, this is an underground prison. Criminals are the only residents, and god knows how many would have enough self control to keep their hands off if he’s not with you. Besides you’ve been here for so long, you have no place on the surface anymore. What would you do, go cry to Neuvillette? Pfff yeah, right. Try saying hello to Clorinde without trembling first.
Yes yes I am FOR this idea, also consider: Kaeya is the top tier candidate for it. He’s already in the top tier of Manipulative Bastardry, but it gets so much worse if he finds a weakness to exploit — and he’s great at sensing those.
He doesn’t mind that you’re introverted. However, he doesn’t just use the situations as opportunities to give you affirmation as a means of comforting you and coaxing you into bonding with him, no, he stoops so much lower than that. Outright taking advantage of it for his own benefit, ensuring he can use every tactic at his disposal to get whatever he wants... except "whatever he wants" actually just tends to be one consistent thing.
In the early stages, where he can pretend he doesn’t know you well enough to be able to feign ignorance to how much it would exhaust you, he makes sure to plan long public outings, watching as your energy quickly drains until you can’t bear another second in the public atmosphere and all but beg him to return home.
This gives him the opportunity to act disappointed (when in reality, he’s overjoyed it’s playing out exactly as planned) — aw, and here he had so many more things he wanted to show you before the night was over, but no worries, it’s fine… no no, it’s fine, really… and now that you’re all nice and feeling guilty, well, that will just make it much easier to coax you into giving him something to compensate for the disappointment you’ve caused once you’re behind closed doors. Maybe you’ll even volunteer it yourself.
But even later on, once he can no longer put on an act of not knowing how easily drained you are, he can still use it against you. Don’t worry, he knows you’re shy and easily tired out, you two can just stay at home tonight… besides, there’s plenty of fun things you can do alone at home, right…? Surely you’ll be able to think of something.
He, however, stoops even lower still, because he’s also willing to exploit your paranoias and insecurities, even if it means hurting you a bit. Part of the reason why you’re so socially withdrawn, he learns, is that you’re afraid of how others perceive you — I’m just annoying them, they all secretly hate me, you say, everyone thinks I’m weird…
And he… doesn’t rush to correct you or anything. Just shrugs.
Ah, who cares what they think? You already have someone who appreciates you as you are, you know.
Not denying it. If anything, it’s a subtle confirmation… he may even throw in a blatant —
Well, sure, they might feel that way, but I don’t. That’s good enough, isn't it? What do you need their attention for...?
— to really drive the point home, and throw in a bit of accusation and guilt for good measure. He likes hearing you immediately panic and stumble over your words as you reassure him that you don't need anyone else... it's adorable, and the ego boost is euphoric.
Honestly, you’re too gullible for your own good, so precious, so cute in how you fall for it so perfectly, effortless on his part. You don’t even hide your reaction in your expression, so transparent and vulnerable, the way your eyes widen with shock and you hang your head and your eyes water, giving him the perfectly opportunity to comfort you and hold you close and assure you it’s okay, they don’t matter, screw them anyway, and so on.
You’re so sweet, so pure. So much so that you almost, almost actually make him feel bad about it. How impressive.
#bro is physically incapable of not manipulating every single situation and interaction with darling into trying to get puss#.ky#q
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Voting for more hamilton content!!!
wash day, l. hamilton
pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x she (black fem oc)
content: non-physical intimacy is just as important as physical intimacy.
warnings: none.
an: the girlies want lh content, so here we are! likes are cool, but we love reblogs and comments! let me know what you think <3
The soft pallets of her fingertips danced along his scalp. Her manicured nails brushed the sides of his temples, swiping away any beads of stress and insecurity that might have lingered longer than needed. Her gentle actions pulled a moan from his throat. She smiled softly.
A soft hum from the fan in the bathroom was the only sound that could be heard. That and the sloshing of the water in the tub when they moved ever so slightly.
She combed through the beautiful coils upon his head with her fingers carefully. With ease, the knots and tangles broke away. Strands of his hair fell upon her wrist as she raked through his locks.
Wash day was her favorite as much as it was his. It was a time for intimacy between them that did not require any sexual activity. Non-sexual intimacy was important. She stood by the sentiment and was willing to die on the hill most desired to climb upward in competition. There were important things, she noted, that deserved cultivation and just as much attention as learning her partner’s body. If she was honest, she felt closer to him in moments like these compared to when his body was pressed against hers.
She easily remembered the first time she participated in wash day with him. She came over one Sunday afternoon and found him in the bathroom scrubbing away at his scalp with his shirt drenched in water. She vividly remembered giggling at his state and offering to lend a hand, which he desperately needed. Sure, some people did his hair for him, but he figured he’d try it out himself. He did learn, however, he enjoyed it when she did it. There was something about being trapped between her legs as she wrapped his ringlets around her fingers, that he couldn’t get enough of.
“My hands are starting to prune,” she admitted as she dropped her hands into the water. She swished her hands to remove the remnants of deep conditioner trapped between her fingers. “You let this sit for a few minutes. I’m gonna rinse off in the other shower.”
She pressed her hands against the floor of the tub to push her body up, but his hands against her thighs halted her movements. “Mhm, stay.” His fingers danced along her calves.
“By the time you get out, I’ll be waiting for you. I don’t want to shrivel up,” she replied, tapping his shoulder. With a dissatisfied groan, he released her body from the trap he had her in. She pecked his neck as she stood to her feet.
His eyes were on her as she walked towards the rack that held her black towel. His eyes followed the droplets of water that slivered down her chest, to her hips, and down her brown legs. His tongue grazed over his lip. She sent him a wink before exiting the bathroom and starting towards the other one.
He joined her hardly ten minutes later. She jumped when she felt his hands on her hips. She turned in his arms, gently shoving his shoulder as a repercussion for scaring her. The playful scowl on her lips did nothing but only egg on his desire for her.
“Sorry, baby,” he mumbled, drawing her wet body close to his. She hummed in response, allowing her lips to brush against his. Her teeth gently nipped along his bottom lip before capturing his mouth completely in a steam-filled kiss. She swallowed his quiet noises and broke away before his wandering hands spurred her on.
The warm water beating against them only intensified the heat burning between them. By the time the fire was extinguished, the water was as cold as a winter day, probing them to exit the shower.
“You don’t make yourself discreet at all,” she said while looking over her shoulder at her lover who smiled innocently. He was perched against the doorframe, a gray towel tied tightly around his waist. His damp hair leaked small droplets of water that slid down his bare chest. He smiled at her.
She shook her head and continued to moisturize. She slid on a clean shirt and underwear. She sat on their shared bed and ushered for him to get dressed so she could finish his hair.
“You want two pieces left out or not?” she trailed off once he sat on the floor between her legs. Beside her was the “hair bin” filled with the creams, serums, gels, and oils they used on their thick locks.
“No,” he replied, lifting his arms to place them on her thighs. His fingers drew imaginary doodles on her skin. Mumbling a quiet, “Okay,” she retrieved what she needed from the hair bin and began combing his hair softly.
Small conversations and little comments were made, but, a comfortable, silence dawned over them. She was focused on parting, moisturizing, and braiding his ringlets, and he was basking in the relaxation he felt. He nodded off a few times, only to be awoken by her giggles.
“I’m almost done, baby,” she assured. She took a nice amount of oil in her palms and rubbed them together, taking the time to massage his scalp softly. She ran her hands over his hair, watching as the curls jumped under her fingertips. She wiped her glistening hands on an old towel and then patted his shoulder.
“You’re good to go. Tie it up.” She tossed a black durag at him, which he caught with easily.
“Thank you, baby.” He kissed her gently. She smiled and pushed the hair bin to the side, making a mental note to put it away in the morning.
Tiredly, she pushed her body up the bed and swiped her scarf from underneath her pillow. It was silk and smelled like a variety of oils. She tied the fabric around her twisted hair and laid against the pillow. Just moments later he climbed in bed next to her. He was quick to engulf her in his arms and press a gentle kiss against her forehead.
“You know I love you right?”
“Mhm,” she hummed. “I love you too. That’s the only reason I’ll spend four hours doing your hair every month.”
“I’m lucky to have you,” he said in response. His words were muffled as his lips moved against her neck. She sighed softly at the feeling of the open-mouthed kisses against her neck and his hands against the flesh of her thighs.
“I’m lucky to have you,” she replied quietly. “and also lucky that wash day is over. I’m going to bed; cuddle me.”
Lewis hummed and slid his hand beneath her shirt, palming the heavy flesh of her chest. “Yes ma’am.”
#saturnville#black!reader#black reader#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton x black reader#lewis hamilton#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x black!reader#lh44#team lh44#lh44 x reader#sir lewis hamilton
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Hey! Not sure if you do requests, sorry if you don’t! If you want to, could you do a story where a supervillain typically goes easy on a group of rookie heroes, as he usually fights them just for fun, and could destroy them if he wanted.
He just lets them think they can beat him.
Then, something happens (maybe they cross a line, and one of the heroes tries to stop their team from crossing that line but they don't listen) where the supervillain shows them just how powerful he actually is?:
Ask anonymously
Hi there Annablogsposts! I do requests, I’m just typically really slow getting to them, lol. I’d love to write this for you! Thanks for requesting this, here you go!
Hero entered the meeting room, where Leader and the rest of their team were already talking.
“So we’re in agreement, then?” Leader asked.
Teammate One nodded.
“If we take Henchman, we can interrogate them and learn more about Supervillain’s plans than we ever could through just reconnaissance.”
“Woah woah woah,” Hero said, “are we talking kidnapping?”
“Uh, yeah?” Teammate Two said, quirking an eyebrow.
Hero shifted their weight from one foot to the other.
“But isn’t kidnapping, I don’t know, wrong? I mean, Henchman doesn’t even have powers- they’re not even in the field most of the time. Why would we-”
Leader folded their arms across their chest.
“Hero, do you want to stop Supervillain or not? Desperate times call for desperate measures. Now, Teammate One is going to be look-out, while you-”
“No,” Hero said.
Leader blinked.
“No?”
“No,” Hero repeated, “I’m sorry, but I can’t be a part of something that goes against my morals, not to mention what we stand for. None of us should even be talking about this, let alone actually going through with it!”
Hero didn’t wait for Leader’s response. They turned and left the meeting room, only stopping when they got back to their own room.
…
Hero jolted awake, stirred by the sounds of a struggle. They checked the clock. Three in the morning. Their team must have gone through with it after all.
Hero crept into the room that had been set up as a holding cell. They peeked in and saw Henchman, battered and bloody, breathing hard. Hero’s eyes widened. Their own team did this!?
Hero unlocked the door and knelt by the criminal. Their eyes were glassy and dilated. Drugged. It wasn’t even a fair fight.
“I’m gonna help you,” Hero whispered.
“Hero?” Henchman croaked dazedly.
Hero had already left, bolting to the med bay to get supplies. They rushed back into the cell and got to work.
“This is more Teammate Two’s thing, but I’m gonna try my best,” Hero said quietly.
The room was silent, save for the occasional whimper from Henchman. When Hero finished, they had stitched up the deeper wounds and bandaged the more shallow ones.
Hero opened their mouth to ask a question when the far wall exploded into tiny bits. Supervillain stood there, a dark look on their face.
“Henchman?” Supervillain called.
“In here!” Henchman slurred.
Supervillain rushed to their right hand’s side.
“Who did it? One of them, or all of them?” Supervillain asked.
“A-all but this one,” Henchman said, nodding to Hero.
Supervillain looked up at Hero. Their eyes drifted to the medical supplies, and Hero’s bloodied hands.
“Not one for breaking the rules, hm?” Supervillain asked.
Hero sat frozen in shock. Supervillain had never been able to take out a wall like that before. Supervillain had always had minimal powers. How did they do this?
“Hero, wait for me outside,” Supervillain said, “and take Henchman with you.”
Hero opened their mouth, but no sound came out.
“Come on,” Henchman said, struggling to get up.
That spurred Hero into action. They helped Henchman up, and took them outside, stepping over bits of rubble and letting Henchman put their weight on them for support.
Hero turned.
“What are you gonna do?” they asked timidly.
Supervillain adjusted their gloves, their fingers curling into fists.
“What I should have done a long time ago.”
…
Hero waited outside until they heard the screaming. Those were their team’s voices. They laid Henchman down, leaning them up against a tree.
“I need to go help them,” Hero said, “stay here.”
“Thought you’d say that,” Henchman grunted, pulling something from a concealed pocket in their boot.
Hero barely had time to question what it was before the object was slammed into their thigh.
“Sorry, kid,” Henchman said, “but you don’t need to get hurt on account of them.”
Hero’s world spun. They stumbled, falling to the ground right next to Henchman. Henchman positioned them against their chest, so they’d be more comfortable. Hero drifted off a moment later.
…
Supervillain dusted themselves off, stepping over the mess of unconscious bodies strewn about the room. They approached Henchman, taking note of Hero, fast asleep.
“They tried to run in?” Supervillain asked knowingly.
Henchman shrugged, nodding.
“Poor thing,” Supervillain sighed, “we’ll sort them out. They deserve better.”
Supervillain picked both Henchman and Hero up with ease, as though they were little more than a few feathers. They flew off, back to their base. The rest of the team would wake up so see themselves and their compound in shambles. Hero, on the other hand, would wake up in a lavish bedroom. It pays to not anger the most powerful Supervillain in the world.
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#eyyyy finally got a request done!#as requested#hero x villain#hero x villain community#heroes and villains#supervillain#henchman#team whump#hero whump#writeblr#writing#whump#creative writing#snippet#drugging#kidnapping
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Blonde Phase
Renjun x gn reader
summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?
genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,
warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any
wc: 4.4k
a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3
“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”
He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”
You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”
“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.
“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”
“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”
“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”
“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.
“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.
“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”
“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”
“I did not!”
“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”
“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.
“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”
You frown. “Tonight?”
“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”
“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.
He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”
“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.
And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?
.
.
Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.
“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.
“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.
You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”
Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”
“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.
“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”
“Seriously?”
Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”
You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”
“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”
“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”
“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.
“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”
“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”
“Those were their exact words?”
“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.
“That’s more on brand.”
Renjun nods.
You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?
“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”
Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.
You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”
You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”
He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.
“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.
“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”
When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.
He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.
“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”
You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”
“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”
You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”
You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?
To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?
“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”
“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”
“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”
You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.
“‘So, hair,’” he says.
“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”
This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”
You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”
.
.
“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”
“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”
Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”
You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”
He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.
“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”
“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”
You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.
You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.
You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.
He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”
“Hm?”
“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”
You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”
“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”
You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.
“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”
“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”
“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”
“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”
“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.
.
.
The timer goes off halfway through an episode.
“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”
“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.
You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.
“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.
You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.
“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.
You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.
He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.
“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.
His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.
Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.
“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.
“Hey!”
“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.
You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”
“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”
You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.
“I’m right,” Renjun says.
You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”
“For what?”
“Doing all of this for me,” you say.
“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”
You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”
Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.
You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.
“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.
“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”
“Not really.”
“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.
“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”
So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?
Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”
“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.
“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”
He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.
“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”
Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”
“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”
“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”
Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”
You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.
“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”
“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.
“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.
“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.
It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.
Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.
“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”
“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”
“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”
“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”
You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.
“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”
Renjun grins.
“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.
“I thought you liked it!”
“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”
“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”
“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.
“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Don’t underestimate them.”
You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”
“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.
“You like it?”
“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”
You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”
Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”
“We could have matching couples hair.”
He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”
“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”
“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”
“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.
Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.
“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”
You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.
“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.
“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”
For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”
“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.
You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”
He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”
His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.
There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.
thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated
#🌟 stars galaxy#nct#nct dream#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct reader#nct fanfic#nct dream fanfic#nct dream fluff#nct fluff#renjun#renjun fluff#huang renjun#nct renjun
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do you ever find it hard to just....Keep Drawing? what keeps you motivated? what keeps you inspired? i've been finding it hard to pick up a pen lately despite loving drawing and wanting to do it more than anything, how do you do it? also, i hope you have a nice day!!
oh i absolutely do. i think like.. last night i was having a bit of a rough one. and talking to my boyfriend about it.
sometimes motivation for anything (not just art) feels like if i stop moving, ill fall flat on my face. its difficult for me to get going, especially if i get interrupted or get suddenly thrown into a social situation.
on one hand, drawing has always been my stim/self soothing activity of choice (as im autistic). but 'work drawing' can sometimes be difficult when im scared i might be interrupted in the middle of the day, or if someone might need me to like 'be a person' suddenly.
all this to say, i try my best to stay motivated by taking care of my body and my brain, because if those things go out of whack then i know for sure i wont be able to draw well. and then, in terms of artistic motivation... i look at other people's art, and i go on walks a lot.. and i spend a lot of time alone with my brain/feelings.
art sort of is just like... an engine through which i am taking the outside world, processing it and pulling it through to show everyone how i feel about it. sometimes its as simple as 'this thing was beautiful, i want to show you' 'this thing was cute, i want to show you' but sometimes its also 'this is something i learned, let me teach you' 'this is something that hurt me, let me heal it with you'
... in a lot of ways if i dont keep drawing, i dont know how id communicate with other people, really. so i guess, i have to keep drawing because id get very lonely otherwise.
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speak nowww
Slytherin Boys as Speak Now Songs
*in perspective of their relationship with you AND their personality. and why*
here's speak now (tv ofc), 1989 is on the way; which taylor swift album should i do next?
(mattheo riddle, draco malfoy, theo nott, lorenzo berkshire)
slytherin boys masterlist nav
mattheo riddle as Better Than Revenge
best lyric(s) - "she should keep in mind there is nothing I do better than revenge" + "she underestimated just who she was stealing from"
explanation - so, as stated in ttpd version (here), mattheo has a lot of pent up frustration and anger. so he's really good at getting back at people. especially when he gets into a relationship with a partner he really cares about and they ask him not to be mean or attack people for no reason. then he has to channel all his efforts into just getting back at people who bother him. (even though sometimes bothering him is just looking at him even slightly sideways).
w/ his partner - with his partner, mattheo has absolutely no regrets or qualms about being an absolute menace to society. since he began dating them, he's been much less volatile than his normal self, but whenever people get a little too cocky and do absolutely anything at or to you, all bets are off. then mattheo feels that its necessary to step up and remind people that he's still the dark lord's son and he will be the dark lord's son if he has to.
draco malfoy as Speak Now
best lyric(s) - "don't say yes, run away now, ill meet you when you're out" + "horrified looks from everyone in the room but i'm only looking at you"
explanation - I feel like draco is the kind of guy who would totally 1000% crash your wedding if you were ever marrying someone other than him. (*I just read this theo fic abt him crashing readers wedding, ill try and find it and link it here*) But anyways, he would totally crash your wedding. like at first he would feel really bad for even thinking about it but then he would legit just stroll into the chapel like "you can't marry him, you're supposed to marry me" even if he like never mentioned anything about his feelings for you. he mentioned them in his way aka glaring at you slightly less intense than he does everyone else. how could you not notice that he was in love with you?
w a partner - def more silly and cute than anything, but i like to think that when you first started dating (esp if youre a gryff or a huffle) draco would make it his personal mission to embarrass the hell out of you by saying the most out of pocket things in front of like the other slytherins or just in the middle of class as loudly as possible. he just likes to see the little blush on your cheeks whenever he says something that he most definitely should not be saying out loud.
theodore nott as Electric Touch
best lyric(s) - "all I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life" + "I'm tryin hard not to look like I'm trying"
explanation - theo is that guy thats scared of commitment. (sorry to all the theo girlies me included but we gotta admit it at some point). it's not that he doesn't care about his partner, it's just that he's terrified of commitment. there's way too much that could go wrong. he learned very early on that you could do everything right, love someone completely, treat them wonderfully, and then they could just die. but bc his mother passed at such a young age he has a very distorted point of view on this because in his head, he's like but what if they just die???
w/ a partner - that being said, when theo finds that person that's like the one for him, he wants to commit so bad. and he puts all of his effort into it, like he'll call you his girlfriend, he'll spend an exorbitant amount of money on you, he'll even buy you a damn ring, but he won't let you get emotionally close to him. and it kind of freaks him out when he finds himself wanting you to know him in that way. when you finally confront him about one day and he's like, what if you just like died?? and you're just sitting there across from him like '...'
theo, wtf? i'm not just gonna like keel over one day.
after that he kind of lets you in a little and after a few months when he's sure you're not just gonna suddenly fall over, then he's completely fine and continues on like nothing ever happened. (its a little amusing in the hindsight of it all)
lorenzo berkshire as Dear John
best lyric(s) - "don't you think 19's too young to be played by your dark twisted games" + "cause you burned them out, but I took your matches before fire could catch me"
explanation - I don't think it's really talked about enough how much emotional support that enzo needs. his own family aside, he still grew up around death eaters and that surely cannot be healthy for a guy. so when he finally is an adult, i like to think that he looked into some kind of therapy option wizard, muggle, or otherwise. i think that he probably also struggled a little with the friends that he lost during the entire ordeal that he wishes he could've saved (almost like survivor's guilt)
w a partner - so when it comes to a partner, i really think that he needs someone who sees him. that's really important to him that he's with someone that he could just let go with and not have to worry about always being either grinning or stonefaced. He'd like to be able to feel his entire range of emotions without hindrance and he's only really gonna feel safe to do that with a partner.
---
4.25.24
wc 960
taglist
@moonlightreader649 @svt-dk97 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess
#slytherin boys#theodore nott#slytherin#theo nott#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#slytherin boys x reader#draco malfoy#lorenzo berkshire#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#enzo berkshire#enzo berkshire x reader#draco malfoy x reader
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Platonic Hiccup Haddock III with his sister? Thank you
Sure! Sorry for the long wait, I wasn't sure what direction to take this so this is me thinking of small scenarios.
Yandere! Platonic! Hiccup with Sister! Darling
Pairing: Platonic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Fear of Loss, Clingy behavior, Jealousy, Slight stalking, Hellicopter brother, Dubious companionship.
I like to imagine maybe you're the younger sister of Hiccup or are similar in age.
You've been raised alongside your brother and father, believing your mother is dead.
Your father is naturally overprotective of you, which probably makes Hiccup overprotective of you.
Ever since the "death" of your mother, Hiccup has been taught to watch over you.
This overprotective behavior is no doubt why later in life you don't get a dragon for awhile.
Platonic! Hiccup is no doubt just him being a helicopter brother to you.
Hiccup seems like the type to worry about every little thing when it comes to his sister's safety.
For example, he'd fuss over your protective gear before you eventually ride a dragon.
He'd want to pick a dragon he knows can protect you rather than one you want.
He's a bit paranoid when it comes to you.
However... he's still a brother.
He tries to support you, he even takes you on rides with Toothless if he knows Toothless will be gentle.
He often has Toothless help train your dragon so Hiccup knows they're safe.
Even when you both find out your mom is alive, Hiccup doesn't relent.
In fact, he even tells your mom how well he protected you.
His worries only get worse when your father dies, anyways....
You just know Hiccup is one of those overprotective brothers who judges who you're around.
He's no doubt used to when you both played together as kids.
That and he just... wants to make sure your friends and potential partners are safe.
I feel Hiccup wouldn't isolate you... but he'd insert himself into your conversations.
He makes it clear to people that he's looking out for you.
Much to your dismay.
He's naive to the fact you may not like him around all the time.
He's so used to betrayal and playing protector that he forgets he's supposed to let you be independent.
To him, he feels he'll always be part of your life.
It hurts him when you try and push him way.
You're not kids anymore.
He seems to have trouble understanding that.
He gets a bit jealous when you have a life of your own, speaking with friends and maybe even finding a partner.
He tries his best to bottle it for you, to have you happy.
But he can't help but have Toothless follow you or one of his other friends check in on you.
There's times he has to hold back on telling off those around you... seeing them as "bad influences".
He probably means well... yet at some point he should learn that he has to let you go.
A platonic yandere Hiccup would focus more on his sister's safety than her happiness.
He feel you're happiest with him.
Which makes him threaten and judge your social circle.
You can tell him off, yet he may just ignore you.
In his eyes, you're his sister... he's your protector and you should rely on him.
Which unfortunately just drives you apart... making him try harder... which causes more harm than good.
Sure, you two originally got along.
You originally did everything together.
Hiccup is so used to that, so deep in his delusions... That he may socially isolate you on accident.
However, to him? It doesn't matter too much...
He'll promise to be the best for you as your brother... just please stop ignoring him...!
"Did... did I do something wrong...? I just want you safe, I swear! Please don't look at me like that!"
#yandere how to train your dragon#yandere httyd#yandere hiccup haddock#yandere hiccup horrendous haddock#platonic yandere
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Summary: Lando finally wins a race and learns all he needed was a good luck charm
Lando Norris x Reader
w/c 933
━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━
It had been a long and tiring journey for Lando in regards to getting his first race win. 5 years in Formula 1, almost 700 points and 15 podiums and he thought it was never going to happen— at least not if Max Verstappen had anything to say about. And then came along you.
At first you were nothing more than a friend of a friend, someone who had suddenly started appearing at group hang outs, who maybe caught his eye once or twice, purely for the fact you were an unfamiliar face. Suddenly you were everything.
It was a party for someone’s birthday when you spoke for the first time. He had come to the bar for another drink, only to be completely ignored by the bartender in favour of some pretty girls down the other end of the bar. You appeared a few moments later, grinning at the racing driver’s clear annoyance. You tapped his shoulder gently to grab his attention, “Watch this.”
All you’d said was excuse me, which he had already tried, and the man came running. You ordered your own drink and urged Lando to do the same. From that point on he was in complete awe of you. It was such a simple action and yet he thought you were completely fascinating. He had found himself so speechless that he didn’t even say anything to stop you from walking away afterwards. Only then did he realise he’d gotten a free drink too.
It felt like the next few weeks of his life were consumed by thoughts of you, until he finally bucked up the courage to start asking around. It all felt pointless until he saw you again at a party he’d thrown in the hopes you would show up. And you did. It seemed his plan was off to a good start.
He tried not to make it obvious that he was looking at you, or for you. He didn’t want to creep you out. In the end it was you that approached him, which took a lot of the fear out of the situation. No longer did he have to find the courage to go up to you— which he was really struggling with.
“I heard you’ve been asking about me?”
His cheeks burned pink. “I, um… yeah, I—“
You laughed. The sound was music to his ears. “It’s okay. I’m honoured, really. A world famous racing driver is interested in me?”
His eyebrows raised. “You know who I am?” The first time you’d properly met you made no indication of such, so he’d just assumed you didn’t know.
“I might have done my own research,” you shrugged. Not a single part of you seemed embarrassed about it though, not like he had. You were owning up to it, you were outwardly telling him he interested you.
And he knew in that very moment, he was completely hooked.
The first race you attended, not only of the year but ever, was the Miami Grand Prix. Lando insisted it was a good atmosphere, unlike a select few that weren’t always the greatest. It was also warm and there were places he could take you after that he thought you would like. You had no hesitations. All you wanted was to see your boyfriend succeed. You didn’t know all that much about the world of motorsport, but you knew Lando hadn’t won before and seeing it in person would surely be something special.
But he had his doubts. He had qualified 2nd, beside Max, for what felt like the thousandth time. He knew exactly how this would play out. But you didn’t feel like letting him get in his head.
“You’re going to win. You’re such a good driver, Lando. Believe in yourself.” He wished he could have taken your words seriously, but he didn’t have it in him to do so. He had already spent 2 years doing his very best just to get stuck behind the world champ anyway. His hope was burning out the more it happened, it was almost ashes at this point. But even if his hope did disappear, you were there to believe in him on his behalf. It was refreshing to have someone think he could win for once.
“I’ll try.”
You frowned. “If you won’t try for you, try for me?”
Apparently that was all the motivation he didn’t realise he needed. He was going to go out there and win it for you. He couldn’t let the first ever race you attended be one that was forgettable.
And when he crossed the line in P1? Everybody went wild.
While waiting for him to get out of the car, you were almost lost in the sea of papaya surrounding the barriers, but there was no way he would let that happen. He threw himself at his team first and as soon as he pulled off his helmet he was throwing his arms around you.
“You did it! You’re a race winner!” you cheered.
“I’m a race winner!” It felt so good to say. He couldn’t stop grinning. “You must be my good luck charm. Gonna have to come to all my races now.”
Your expression was a mirror of his. “If this is how you’re going to perform at every one, count me in.”
So it had taken him 5 years and a whole lot of time, effort and emotion to get him to that top step of the podium, when all along he had been waiting for the final piece of the puzzle to make it happen; you.
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#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris x reader#formula one#lando norris fluff#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you
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The Shadowsinger: Three
Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. mentions of parental abuse, mentions of violence, implied torture, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!
Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Rhys asks you to be an emissary for the Night Court and Azriel volunteers to train you.
Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.
My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!
Series Masterlist
Prologue - One - Two
The next month was spent with you learning about Velaris and the rest of Prythian. Even though you were 20 when you ended up in the northern village, you knew a lot had changed in the 100… and 50… years since then. You couldn’t count on anything you learned from being a spy because so much was different under Amarantha.
You spent days in the Library under the house, reading books about High Lords and Illyrians. You also found some good romance novels you brought up to your room.
This city, one that was full of hopes and dreams and happiness… It hadn’t been touched in hundreds of years. Not even the people in the Court of Nightmares knew about it anymore, thanks to Rhys’s protection.
You got to know Cassian, Mor, and Amren pretty well. Azriel had been off doing his own spying, so you only got to know him from what the Inner Circle told you.
You felt like you were starting to belong here. Like you could find a place in the city. Maybe even in the circle.
“I have an offer for you.” Rhys said at dinner one day. You took a sip of your wine and rose your eyebrows, telling him to go on. “We are trying to get the Illyrians to train the females. Those who want to be trained, or aren’t being threatened by their partners, of course. And I think you’d be a good emissary to the war bands.” He said, glancing at Cassian as if to say keep your mouth shut.
“Me? I- I don’t know if they would listen to a female… especially if their High Lord is having trouble with it.” You said, glancing over to Cassian. You knew the male would probably support what you chose, but if the High Lord and Lord Commander were struggling…
“Well, then you’ll have to make them listen. And not to bring your abilities into it… but you are a Shadowsinger. They can’t deny that, and they’ll tolerate you more because of it.” He said. How lovely…
“Like they did for Azriel?” You asked, hearing the stories of the brothers from Mor and Rhys. They barely allowed him to train, being a bastard. The only reason they did was because he was a Shadowsinger, and Rhys’s friend… “I don’t know, Rhys… it’s one thing to visit those camps. But to try and convince them that they have to train females..” you trailed off. “I don’t even know how to fight. I can’t very well take on an Illyrian.”
“You know how to hunt, right?” Cassian asked and you shrugged. You hunted for Sirona and your family when you first arrived at the northern village, but you hadn’t done a lot in the past 50 years. The most you ever did was with your Shadows, and that was more described as sneaking. “Then I’ll teach you to fight. Show the Illyrians that females can fly in their ranks just as good, if not better, than any male.” He said.
“You can think about it-“ Rhys started but you shook your head.
“I’ll do it.” You said firmly. “I’m tired of being useless when it comes to protecting myself and the people I love. I’m not going to let it happen again.” You said, your shadows settling on your shoulders as if they were backing you up. You let your family down before. You let your blood family harm you and the only thing you could do was flee.
“Okay, then it’s settled. I’ll train you-“
“How about I do it?” You heard Azriel’s voice, turning to him where he leaned against the wall. A few of your shadows bolted to him like the first day you met, this time wrapping around him before coming back to you. You could’ve sworn they brought some of his scent with them. They didn’t say anything, but they seemed to like him more than anyone else you met.
“Az, when did you get back?” Cassian asked.
As smirked, “Just now.” He said
“You want to train (Y/N)?” Cassian asked, resulting in Azriel nodding.
“I can teach you how to fight with and without your shadows. And when I’ve gotta go out on missions, Cass can train you on the former.” He said and you looked at Rhys.
“Whatever you want.” Rhys said and smiled. “It’s your choice.”
You glanced between the two. You didn’t know Azriel as well as you did Cassian… but you knew he was a Shadowsinger like you. And you know he could help you hone your abilities. You also knew that he was just as much a deadly warrior as the other two males sitting beside you.
“Okay, it’s a good idea.” I said and gave him a small smile. You could’ve sworn you saw his face flush, but only for a moment before he was back to showing his unreadable mask. “Maybe you can teach me how to spy… and this time actually keep secrets when I want to.” You joked. You knew how to spy. Knew how to get information out of people. When Rhys didn’t have time to interrogate spies under the mountain, she had you do it. You still felt blood on your hands from all the lesser faeries and High Fae you harmed on her behalf.
Az only gave you a small nod before joining the rest of you at the table. “I do have one request,” you said to all of them. “I don’t go to Valorworth until I’m done training.” You said. Before any of them could ask, you continued. “I can’t see my family… My blood family… yet. What they did to me.. I was weak and a coward. I couldn’t stand up for myself so the only thing I did was run. So the next time I do see them, I want to be able to show them I’m not weak. And I won’t run from them.”
There was something of understanding on all of their faces as you looked around the table. “If you want to kill them, we’ll gladly allow it.” Cassian said with a small smirk on his face. “Hell, I’ll even do it.” Rhys said and you smiled, letting out a small laugh.
“I don’t need to go that far… yet.” You said and leaned back in the chair, happy to be able to help the Court.
“You’ll get a salary as well,” Rhys said. “You’re welcome to stay here at the House. Or the townhouse. But you can also find an apartment.” He said and you smiled.
“I’ll think about it. Right now, it’s better to stay close to where I can train.” You settled. “If staying here is okay with all of you, that is.” You said.
“Are you kidding? It’ll be so much better having you here and not just the boys.” Mor said and you laughed gently, finally feeling like you could really fit in here.
The next day you went up to the training ring, seeing Azriel already warming up. You stood quietly by the stairs, watching as his shadows moved with him as he did movements you’d seen thousands of times in Valorworth.
His shadows didn’t warn him of your presence. A couple of them snuck out from behind his legs and went over to you, circling around your hair. Your own shadows moved to join him in the center of the ring. You still barely understood the concept of Shadowsinging, even after all these years. But maybe now, with him as your teacher, you could understand it more. And learn to understand yourself.
You finally cleared your throat as you stepped forward. As much as you wanted to, you knew you couldn’t stand and watch him all day. “You certainly know what you’re doing.” You commented as you walked closer to him.
Rhys had gotten Illyrian training leathers for you, tailored to your wings and your sizes. So when you walked up to Azriel, he had to pause just to take you in. You didn’t wear dresses much, but you also didn’t wear anything as tight fitting as this. Not that he’s seen you within the past month.
You shifted under his gaze, looking up to the sky. After breakfast and before you came here, you decided to take a flight. You knew it would be getting colder, and the frigid fall air only proved you right. This would be one of the last nice days before it started to snow. And flying would be a hassle.
“I am teaching you for a reason.” He finally said and you nodded. “Come here, let’s get started.” He motioned you over to where he stood.
You walked over and set your hands to your side. You were glad he decided to train you here and not in Windhaven. You didn’t know if you could handle being seen by the males, critiqued. Cassian told you that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to train you here. Apparently, Azriel hated the Illyrians. You completely understood, too, from what you’d learn about Azriel. The things that happened to him while at the war camps. Especially before Rhysand’s mother had come along to take him in. Still, you didn’t want to start training as an Illyrian when you didn’t know anything.
You weren’t sure how or why Azriel still adapted to the training, but it was probably so ingrained into him (and useful) that he couldn’t let it go. And so you had your trainer.
“I’m assuming you never trained at the camp?” He asked and you simply shook your head, scoffing at the idea. Your father would have killed you if he saw you anywhere near the training rings. “Do you know the exercises at all? Anything?” He asked and you shook your head.
“I was 20 when I left, and I was never allowed near the ring. I’ve only ever saw my brothers train once, and I remember the beating I got for it more than anything else.” You said. “All I know is that my father had a killer left hook that would leave my face bruised for a week. Even with my healing.” You said and saw something like anger flash through Azriel’s eyes before returning to his soft stare.
“Then let’s teach you an even worse one, and maybe he’ll learn never to hit a female again.” He said and you gave him a small smirk.
“Let’s.” You agreed and started the warm up with him.
Series Masterlist
Join the taglist here
A/N: Well we see the reader finally interact with Azriel! Not much but just a little taste of it... I hope y'all like slow burns cause this one is very much that...
Tagging:
@cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickisshadowsinger139
@atomolvnar @complete-randomness-2 @lilah-asteria @tele86
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#azriel x reader#acotar spoilers#katie writes#the shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger
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