#ian rapper

you were hesitant at first - new relationship, long trip, whole different country - but you said yes, and honestly it ended up being one of the best decisions you’ve made. hotel hopping, creating memories on the tour bus, late-night food runs after shows. it felt like the two of you were getting even closer without even trying.

tonight’s show had just ended, and you were backstage waiting for him while crew packed everything up. while scrolling on your phone, you noticed some guy walking up to you. he wasn’t a fan - he had a venue badge on, looked like he worked somewhere in production or security.

“hey,” he said, smiling a little. “sorry, i’ve seen you around but never got to introduce myself. i’m marcus.”

you gave him a polite smile back, nothing extra. “hi. i’m” but he didn’t let you finish.

his eyes suddenly shifted to something behind you. his face changed fast - like he realized he shouldn’t be standing there. he nodded, stepped back, and said, “it was nice meeting you, hope to see you around.” before walking off quick.

you already knew why. ian was walking straight toward you, still flushed from the performance, wiping sweat off his neck with a towel. he looked… annoyed. not angry, just very obviously not liking whatever he saw.

“what was that?” he asked, stopping right in front of you. his voice wasn’t loud, but his tone gave him away.

“nothing,” you said. “he was just introducing himself.” ian didn’t say anything for a second. he just looked at you, then at where marcus had disappeared.

“aight. come on, we’re heading out soon.”

the after-party ended up being at some packed club the venue rented out - loud, dark, full of people who were already drunk before you even walked in.

ian got dragged into a conversation immediately. people kept coming up to him, pulling him in different directions, so you stayed off to the side near the vip section.

you weren’t even alone for two minutes before someone stepped into your space. “hey,” a familiar voice said. “didn’t know you’d be here too.” it was marcus. again.

he smiled, a little too comfortable this time. “crazy running into you twice in one night.” you gave him a small nod, trying to keep it neutral, but he took a step closer anyway.

“so how’d you end up backstage earlier?” he asked. “you a big fan? someone hook you up with vip or something?”you shook your head. “oh- no. i’m with ian. he’s my boyfriend.”

marcus blinked, surprised, but not in a respectful way - more like he was trying to decide if you were serious. “oh. damn. didn’t think he had a girlfriend .” his eyes dropped to your outfit for a second, then back up. “he got good taste.” you didn’t respond to that.

“so how long you two been together?” he added, leaning a little closer, voice dropping just enough to sound like he was testing something.

before you could respond, you saw the same thing happen — his eyes flicked past your shoulder. and just like backstage, he went quiet, straightened up, and took a half step back. you turned around.

ian was already walking toward you, and this time he didn’t even try to hide the look on his face.

he stepped up beside you, hand sliding around your waist before he leaned in, brushing a quick kiss against your temple.

“hi, baby,” he said, like marcus wasn’t even there. “sorry, got dragged into a conversation.” you nodded, but before you could say anything back, ian finally turned his head toward marcus.

“you good?” ian asked him. marcus gave a lazy shrug. “yeah, man. just talking.” ian smiled, “yeah? looked like you were doing a little more than talking.”

marcus raised his eyebrows, trying to play it off. “didn’t know she was your girl. calm down.”

“i’m calm,” he said. “you’re the one backing up every time you see me.” marcus didn’t have anything to say to that. his mouth opened like he was about to argue, but nothing came out. he gave ian a quick nod before walking off toward the bar.

ian stayed exactly where he was, arm still around your waist, thumb sliding under the hem of your top. you tilted your head up at him, fighting a smile. “didn’t know you got jealous,” you said lightly. “my first time seeing it.”

he scoffed under his breath, eyes dropping to your lips for half a second before he looked away like he was trying not to give you too much.

“i’m not jealous,” he muttered. you raised a brow. ian rolled his eyes, but he didn’t move away from you. if anything, he pulled you in closer.

“he was being weird,” he said. “and i don’t like weird around you.” you tilted your head up at him, fighting a smile. “or you just don’t like other guys talking to me.”

ian’s jaw flexed for a second. then he let out a low sigh, and pulled you in - his arms wrapping around your shoulders, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. he tucked you so close against his chest, you could feel his heartbeat under the thin cotton of his hoodie.

he looked down at you, eyes dark under the strobing lights, pupils blown wide. “yeah,” he said, his voice low it was hard to hear over the music, “i don’t.”

you bit your lip, “possessive much?” he didn’t smile. the corner of his mouth twitched, but his jaw stayed tight. “you complaining?”

“no.” you swallowed, “but you’re acting like i’d let him try anything.” ian’s grip tightened, fingers pressing into the small of your back, thumb tracing the ridge of your spine through the thin fabric. “i hate that he might’ve thought he could.”

his eyes flicked to your mouth, then back up. you slid your hands up his chest, slow, until your fingers curled around his wrists. gently, you peeled his hands off you - one, then the other - until you were holding them between you.

without a word, you turned, lacing your fingers through his, and pulled him through the crowd,past the vip rope, down a narrow hallwy.

you didn’t stop walking until you found a door half cracked open, an empty storage room. you pushed it with your shoulder, pulled ian inside, and shut it behind you with a click.

he was still watching you like he wasn’t sure if he should be pissed or turned on. probably both.

you backed him up slowly until his shoulders hit the wall. he didn’t fight it. he just stared down at you, jaw tight, breathing a little harder than he had been outside.

your hands slid up his hoodie, fingers tracing the warm skin just underneath. “you know,” you whispered, eyes fixed on his, “you don’t have to worry about anyone else. if i wanted him? i wouldn’t be here right now.”

“i know,” he muttered, voice low and rough, “just… didn’t like seeing him try.” you stepped closer until your chest brushed his, lips hovering over his jaw, not kissing yet - just letting him feel how close you were.

“good,” you said quietly, “means you care.” your fingers curled into the front of his hoodie and you pulled him down to you, kissing him slow at first.

when he tried to chase your mouth, you let your lips drag down instead - along the edge of his jaw, then lower, warm against the side of his neck. he let out a quiet sound, not quite a word, more like frustration he was trying not to show.

your hands slid down from his chest, over his stomach, stopping right where his jeans sat low on his hips. you could feel the heat of him even through the denim - hard already, tense from the way you were taking your time.

you kissed down the column of his throat, tongue barely brushing skin, and your fingers traced the seam of his jeans like you were thinking about it, teasing first, making him wait.

then you pressed your palm against him through the fabric. his reaction was instant - hips pushing forward, his breath slipping out sharp.

you let your hand move slow, rubbing over him once, twice, just enough to get him breathing heavier before your fingers found his belt. you hooked beneath the buckle, looking up at him through your lashes.

the metal clicked when you undid it. the belt came loose easy, and you slid it out of the loops with one smooth pull, letting it hang in your hand for a second before dropping it to the floor. he watched you, chest rising steady but tight, like he was holding himself together on purpose.

you popped the button next, eyes on his the whole time, dragging it out just to watch him tense. the zipper was slow - intentionally slow - teeth parting one by one until the denim eased open around him.

you sank down to your knees without breaking eye contact. ian’s hand twitched like he didn’t know whether to grab your hair or the wall behind him.

you slipped your hand inside first, slipping past the waistband of his boxers. heat met your palm immediately, hard and thick.

you didn’t pull him out right away. instead, you stroked him through the fabric, just enough pressure to make him feel it but not enough to satisfy.

ian exhaled sharply through his nose, jaw set, head tipped back against the wall like staying upright was suddenly effort.

you smiled before finally pushing the waistband down enough to free him. your hand wrapped around him properly now, your thumb dragging over the tip as you stroked him once.

you kept your pace unhurried, teasing, your thumb catching every sensitive spot you knew he couldn’t ignore. your other hand rested on his thigh, nails brushing lightly as you leaned in closer - not taking him in your mouth yet, just watching the way his stomach tightened each time your fist slid down and back up again.

you looked up at him from your knees - your lips inches away, hand still working him slow.

“you’re quiet,” you murmured, thumb pressing gently under the head. “thought you didn’t get jealous.” his eyes were heavy, and dark.

“shut up,” he breathed out, and before he could get another word out, you leaned forward and wrapped your mouth around him, slow just for the first second, then deeper.

his whole body reacted - hand flying to the back of your head, not pushing, just gripping like he needed something to hold onto. your tongue dragged along the underside of him as you took more, jaw relaxing, letting him fill your mouth until the heat of him made your eyes flutter shut.

once he heard you exhale through your nose, his confidence suddenly came back. he let out a breathy laugh, “now you’re quiet.”

you hummed around him, vibration pulling a curse from his throat. you drew back only enough to breathe, hand stroking what your lips left slick before your mouth sank back down again - deeper this time, right until your nose brushed his skin.

“yeah,” he murmured, voice steadier now, thumb rubbing the corner of your mouth as you took him again, “that dude wanted you so bad… but look where you are.”

your cheeks warmed at the words, his hand tightened in your hair, guiding you but not forcing - just reminding you who you were doing this for.

another slow bob of your head, spit gathering at the base of your tongue, your hand twisting around what you couldn’t fit. his breath stuttered, hips shifting forward like he couldn’t help it.

“bet he wouldn’t know what to do with you like this,” he muttered, voice breaking halfway through the sentence.

you felt the strain in your thighs, a dull sting building under your knees against the floor. it was almost grounding. your breathing had turned messy, damp lashes sticking together, a tear slipping down your cheek.

ian’s hand slid from your hair to your cheek, thumb brushing the tear away before it could fall further. “look at me,” he whispered, thumb still stroking beneath your eye “you still want this? want me to fuck your mouth right here?”

youu didn’t answer with words, just nodded, letting him feel the drag of your tongue on the underside of him as you did.

ian’s fingers twisted tight in your hair, he pulled back slow till just the head sat heavy on your tongue, gave you half a second to breathe, then snapped his hips forward, burying himself deep in one smooth thrust.

your hands gripped his thighs hard as he set a brutal rhythm right from the start. wet, messy sounds filled the tiny room, his cock sliding in and out, hitting the back of your throat every time. spit dripped down your chin, tears blurring your vision, but you didn’t pull off once.

“fuck, look at you,” he panted, staring down like he couldn’t believe it. “taking me so good - shit-”

his thrusts got sloppier, faster, hips jerking like he couldn’t control it anymore. every time your throat fluttered around him he cursed louder, head tipping back, his face and neck flushed red.

you moaned around him, vibrating down his length, and his rhythm stuttered hard. “close-baby, fuck, i’m so close-”

the head of his cock kept bumping the back of your throat, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth and dripping off your chin in thin strings.

every breath he took came ragged, chest heaving, the little silver chain around his neck swinging with each thrust.

he shoved himself into your mouth one last time, deeper than before, and held. ian’s hips were flushed against your face, cock pulsing heavy on your tongue. your nose was buried in the warm skin of his lower stomach, lungs burning for air.

a broken “fuck-” tore out of him before thick, hot spurts began coating the back of your tongue, sliding down your throat in waves.

you swallowed hard, again, again, the taste overwhelming, salty-bitter and all him, while his thighs shook under your hands and his fingers yanked tight in your hair like he was scared to let go.

only when the last shudder rolled through him did he ease back, slow, cock dragging over your swollen lips, leaving them shiny and wet. a thin strand of spit and come still connected you for a second before it broke.

he stayed standing, one hand braced on the wall above your head, the other loosely tangled in your hair while he caught his breath. you swiped the back of your hand across your mouth, wiping away the mess that had spilled, and looked up at him.

ian blinked down at you, that lazy, fucked-out smile spreading slow across his face. he crouched just enough to cup your chin, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

“you good, baby?” he asked, his voice now back to soft. you nodded, grinning a little. “never better.”

he leaned down and kissed you - slow, sweet, tasting you both. when he pulled back his forehead stayed against yours. you licked your lips and teased, “still jealous?”

ian laughed under his breath, “got no reason to be when you’re right here like this.”

likes and reblogs appreciated ♡

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srry this took so long 💔💔

1 year. your one year anniversary with him, and he was late. it was no surprise, typical ian. probably out smoking with his friends, or in the studio. but when you got all dolled up, and went to the nice restaurant he suggested in downtown, you at least expected him to show.

lightly tapping the glass, your nails were a prominent red, along with your dress. people passed by your table, looks of sympathy and comfort spread across their face as they saw the missing spot just across from you. “god, i look pathetic”, you mumbled under your breath.

“what was that?”, you heard a voice approach. desperately wishing it was ian in front of you, but being faced with the waiter whom you didn’t notice beforehand. “oh, nothing, just a couple more minutes i swear”.

minutes pass, and still nothing. no phone call, no text message, nothing. a burst of screams were heard from outside the restaurant. flashes of cameras, and loads of poparazzi invaded as you noticed a tall figure emerge through the glass door.

“called it”, you mumbled once again. not only was he late, but he was outside taking photos with fans, and signing different types of objects for their so called ‘autographs’. quickly standing up, you rushed towards him, seeing a bright smile on his face.

“hi baby-”, was soon cut off by you shoving around him, and out the door. he knew it was coming, nothing could avoid it. without a doubt, he followed after you, pushing through the crowds of poparazzi towards his black suv. only, you didn’t head towards the suv, you made your way down the street.

high heels clicking, the cold night of chicago brushed through your hair. it wasn’t overly crowded, seeing as it all formed wherever your boyfriend was heading. a pattern of footsteps followed behind you, and clicks of cameras eluded. feeling a large hand on your forearm, you quickly realized it was ian.

you had to keep your cool, nothing you didn’t want the poparazzi to see was not about to happen tonight. “yes?”, you questioned. “stop with the act, get in the car”, he chuckled through his teeth, obviously desperate to talk to you.

thinking about it for a second, you tapped your finger on your chin. “i’m okay”, you chuckled back. you could practically see the fumes coming out of his head as ian scoffed.

“okay then, if that’s what you really want baby”. his voice causing you to feel some type of way was not about to let him off the hook. as the poparazzi started to ask questions, you gave up your fight, and headed back towards the suv.

ian’s security opened the car door, him heading in first, then giving you a hand to help you in. the slick, black leather seats were comfortable, and the space was very roomy. it was private to say the least as there was a divider between the driver and back seats.

you sat away from ian, hands in lap, staring out the window as the car began to move. “c’mere”, he spoke, the words shooting sharply through heavy silence. no reply came out as you began to ignore his words. “baby, y/n, you don’t gotta act like that”, you could tell he was smirking through his every word.

butterflies erupted in your stomach as you could tell he was getting more whiny about it. suddenly, you felt a presence move from the other side of the car, to where you were sitting. a hand slipped onto your thigh, and began to massage up and down your dress.

a smirk slipped from your mouth, turning to face him but only to see him looking the other way, pretending not to be phased. play it that way, see what’s coming. sliding your velvet dress up a little, his hand touched bare skin. at first he tensed, but after a second he rested his hand and began to graze towards your inner thigh.

without a second thought, you moved his hand closer to your heat, not caring for what’s about to happen next. he played with your lace panties, slowly moving them to the side. he placed his fingers onto your pussy, all while staring completely into your direction.

by now your eyes were locked, noticing ian licking his lips, all whilst he was running through your folds. “does that feel good?”, he questioned all while knowing the answer. but before you could reply, he stuck a finger into you. a gasp came from your mouth in an instant, not expecting him to do that.

your head fell back as ian began to pump his finger in, and out of you. soon after, he added a second finger to the mix. strings of moans left your lips as he began to work his way deeper and faster. his soft lips attached their way to your neck, placing harsh kisses under the pressure.

“mhm — ian, ‘s so good”, you whimpered out. and you didn’t even notice that ian began to palm his bulge underneath his jeans until groans left his mouth. your eyes opened just in time to see him writhing around, and leaving a gasp of ‘fuck’ and ‘damn’ from his mouth.

the friction was too much, you began to ride his hand to build up your high. this led to him stopping his actions on himself, and focusing completely on you. “c’mon baby, you can do this”, he groaned out. he definitely enjoyed this just as much, or even more than you did.

your high was building even more, desperately to the point of finish. mumbles of praise left his mouth as your legs began to slightly shake, and incoherent words spewed from your mouth. just to add into the mix, he placed a finger onto your clit, slightly putting pressure and circular motions.

just the right spot. a sudden flash came upon you, and you felt warmth slowly spilling out onto the seats below you. out of breath, both you and ian looked at eachother, completely speechless to say the least. a sudden smirk came across his face as he took his fingers from your heat, and placed them in his mouth.

his hands were to die for, and you couldn’t process it. practically almost coming a second time, your hand grazed his jeans, all while he was still sucking on his fingers. he groaned, but before anyone could proceed, the car stopped.

“and you’re gonna continue to fucking leave?” you yelled.

“you don’t give me a fuckin’ choice, blowing my shit” ian said pacing back and forth the living room of your guys’ apartment, looking for his keys.

ian and you have been going through a rough patch ever since he got off tour. he spends all his time at the studio now and you barely see him since you go to school and also to work. he had been hanging out at a bar which your friend had seen him at but you wanted HIM to admit it, not you tell him.

“so because i asked you if you’re going to the studio again you’re mad..?” you said with an apparent sarcastic and condescending tone.

“and then there you go, with that attitude, killing my vibe” he responded while proceeding to look for his white tee.

“yeah cause all you want to fucking do is run away from this, i’m asking you a simple question and you’re projecting acting like i’m the one going to bars flirting with other bitches” you said getting closer to him. he stopped in his tracks and turned around. his face scrunched up, his mouth opened like he was about to say some bullshit.

“yeah you thought i didn’t fuckin’ know huh” you scoffed.

“give me your phone.” you said. he “huh?”’d you and you repeated it more louder.

“we don’t need to check shit” he said while putting his shirt on.

“nah fuck all that, let me see your fucking phone ian” you said.

he went up to you and looked down at you, as if he was trying to size you down, you saw his phone in his pocket and you tried to grab it but he quickly turned his body to not allow you to get it.

“and this is why i don’t wanna fucking be here.” he said and then muttered something under his breath. you happened to hear the word ‘bitch’ come out of his mouth and that’s when a flip switched.

you grabbed the remote from the couch and threw it at him, getting all up in his face.

“yeah a bitch? i’m a bitch?” you repeatedly said while trying to push him out the door.

he grabbed your arms with hands and stopped you from shoving him. you were holding back tears as you hated arguing with him, tears were building up and his scrunched up face turned into a solemn expression. he let go of your arms and hugged you but you slapped him.

you ran into your guys’ room and then laid on the bed, silently crying, hope he would just leave since he wanted to so bad. all you wanted was some quality time with your boyfriend, was that so much to ask for?

you heard the door from your room open and just looked away from the door.

“look at me” you heard him say in a tired voice. you flicked him off and heard shuffling and him getting closer.

“bro look at me” he repeated again. you looked over and saw him, with a saddening expression to which he pulled you into his arms. you broke down into his arms and he pulled you tighter. he gave you a kiss on the forehead and then you looked up at him to then give him a kiss on the lips.

the kiss progressed gradually as this had been the first time you guys had actually gave each other attention in weeks. you cupped his face and pushed your body closer to him. he grabbed you closer as well and groped your ass, earning a moan from you.

he pulled away but bit your bottom lip as he was pulling away. the pain aroused you and you saw what he was doing. he was taking off his jacket and his shirt. he grabbed your feet and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, as he kneeled down at the end of your guys’ bed. you were thankful you had a pair of his boxers on with a baggy shirt. he grabbed the hem of the boxers and in one swift motion pulled them off and threw them near the hamper.

your eyes were drying up but your lower area was growing wetter, as if places were swapped.

“what the fuck am i doin. i’m sorry baby” he said and glided his tongue across your inner lips. you shivered in approval and he used both of his hands to hold your thighs in place. he spit on his hands and then on your lips, licking his own lips in the process, giving your small praises saying “so pretty” and then going in and sucking on your clit. the sudden feeling of arousal made your body jolt, to which you kind of bumped his nose.

that feeling made you moan, to which he started vigorously slurping, licking, and sucking on you. he added a finger and started to pump in and out. while he was using one hand to finger you, his other hand was reaching up to go under the shirt and feel your body, he would squeeze your boobs and finger the nub, making you even more sensitive and wet. he added another finger and you felt exhilarated, becoming a moaning mess. that wasn’t until he was trying to adjust himself and made his nose hit your clit again. you squealed and became light headed. when it happened again and he took notice. he took his fingers out and you whined from the sudden absence of nothing in you.

“my nose, you liked that shit huh?” he said with a shit-eating smirk. you covered your face from embarrassment and he said,

“hollon, i got something for you.” as he proceeded to lay down on the bed.

part 2?

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we need more ian writers this shit is ridiculous.