#ALSO MASSIVE THANK YOU TO MR STYLES ALWAYS

[caramello-styles]

here’s to 2023! 🫡

[strawbby-shortcake]

Teen/young adult! Reader x Dad! Tyler durden?? I'm not asking pedo Tyler, just Tyler that have a son that invite reader to their house for school homework (for college) and she get a crush on Tyler😭😭 like she tries to flirt without flirting, just dressing more revealing and staring at him with puppy eyes when get invited over

(obviously for not making Tyler a pedophile he would just not flirt back and make fun of her/chuckle, and anyways thanks if you do it💞

I LOVE YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS ANON THANK YOU!!!!

Puppy Eyes (fem young adult! reader x dad! tyler durden) disclaimer: reader is 19, but because Tyler has a son that is the same age, he would feel weird reciprocating reader's feelings.

Steven Durden is Tyler Durden's only son- that he knows of- and you happen to be friends with him. You both went to the same college, so he'd often invite you over to study. Eventually, you and Steven were best friends.

Although, studying wasn't the only thing you went there for. Steven's dad was handsome, built, and downright the most attractive man you've ever seen. You'd shyly greet him when you walked in, and then quickly find Steven so that you didn't accidentally embarrass yourself.

Today, Steven had called you and asked if you could come over to study. Of course you said yes, since you were sure that you were going to fail the exam if you didn't study- but you also wanted to see Mr. Durden.

You knocked on the door and waited for Steven to open it. To your surprise, Mr. Durden open it instead.

"Hey there, (y/n). Come in," he said with a warm smile.

Your face flushed instantly, and you managed to croak out a weak "hi" in response. There was no sight of Steven, which was both good and bad news for you. After heading inside, you checked to see if he was at the dining table or the living room . . . but he wasn't.

Mr. Durden placed his large hand gently on your shoulder and you turned around frantically.

He chuckled, "Steven will be home soon. I asked him to get some stuff from the store."

"Oh, alright. Thank you for letting me know, Mr. Durden," you replied, straightening your back and fixing the little whisps of hair that were sticking up.

"No need to be so formal, kiddo. Just call me 'Tyler.'"

You nodded, not daring to make eye contact with him. There was no way you had a crush on him, right?

Thankfully, Steven came back just in time before you could answer that question in your head.

"Hey, (y/n)!" he exclaimed while giving you a hug.

"Steven!!"

You heard his dad walk away, meaning you were in the clear- for now. So, you two got to studying and snacking and getting sidetracked. Steven was the best gossiper you knew, so he always had the juiciest details about college couples, drama, and parties. How could you not listen to that?

When it was time to go home, you gave Steven a hug goodbye, and you waved to Mr. Durden on the way out.

"Goodnight, Mr. Durden," you called out.

"It's 'Tyler!' And, hey, stay for dinner next time, 'kay?"

You smiled, but quickly covered your mouth before Tyler, or Steven (ESPECIALLY Steven) could see.

A week or so later, Steven had invited you to the house once again. You decided that you should be a little bolder this time. You wore a dark red dress that covered most of your thighs and hugged your figure nicely. Way too formal for a study session, but you could come up with an excuse. Steven will definitely ask what's up. It exposed your collar bones and neck, and you were starting to wonder if this was a good idea after all.

Oh well!

You still managed to knock on their door and patiently wait for someone to open it. Again, Tyler answered.

He didn't react to your sudden change in style for a study session. Maybe he assumed you dressed that way for Steven?

"Got a date tonight, sweetheart?"

His voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked up at him. Without realizing, you were giving him massive puppy eyes. So, yeah, maybe you did have a crush on him.

His expression softened upon seeing your face. He was figuring out that you had a thing for him.

"No," you looked away. "I don't have a date."

Tyler leaned against the doorframe and smirked.

"Well, you sure do look pretty. I hope it's not for Steven. A rascal like him don't deserve it," Tyler joked.

You laughed at his comment about Steven.

Wait . . . he thinks you look pretty?

Steven's loud footsteps came thundering down the staircase.

"(y/n), you made it! We have a lot to cov- woah," he stood there astonished, a light blush creeping up his neck.

You looked around the room in embarrassment. Surely, Steven wouldn't take this the wrong way.

"Wow," he breathed out.

"She's a lovely young lady, ain't she?" Tyler asked Steven, clearly wanting to fluster him more. Little did he know that he was also causing butterflies on your end.

Steven sheepishly nodded, and motioned for you to join him in the living room to study.

"Whatever, dad," he muttered.

You stuck around for dinner and helped Tyler in the kitchen.

"What do you feel like eating, kiddo?" he asked.

You flirted, "I'm sure anything you make will taste great. You're great at everything, after all."

Tyler smiled at you, "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I can't cook. I can order takeout though."

Your eyes widened as you squeaked out an apology.

"No need to worry your pretty little head about apologies, sweetheart," he teased as he ruffled your hair.

At this point, there was no way he didn't know about your feelings for him.

Steven started notice something odd about you as well. He saw the way that you looked at his dad, how you moved closer to him when he talked, and the pining in your eyes for him. It was kind of gross, because that's his dad, but also not surprising.

You and Steven were hanging out on the porch, talking about life, the latest gossip, and whatever else.

"You like my dad, don't you?" Steven asked.

You nearly threw yourself over the railing.

"WHAT? No, no, no. No, I don't," you blurted out.

Steven laughed and shook his head, "Oh yeah, you sure do."

Putting your face in your hands, you sighed knowing that you got caught. Steven rubbed your back in comfort.

"Hey, it's alright. I was only teasing. But seriously, my dad?"

"I think he's handsome," you whispered.

"You're such a mess. What am I gonna do with you, huh?"

You faced Steven and grabbed him by the shoulders, "Just don't tell him, okay! Please?"

He took your face in his hands and cooed, "Oh you poor thing, I'm sure he already knows."

You looked at him with a sad expression. There wasn't any chance of you getting with Tyler for many reasons:

you were the same age as his son

you were too young for him

it's your best friend's DAD!

Steven simply pulled you into a warm hug and told you it was going to be okay.

Steven invited you over a couple weeks later, but your crush on Tyler was still raging within your heart. You knew it wasn't logical, but you could barely suppress your feelings for him.

When you walked up the steps, you noticed that Tyler was smoking a cigarette. He noticed you and waved, motioning for you to sit beside him before going inside.

You sat down and inspected the wooden floor boards of the porch. You weren't sure what to say.

"Look at me, (y/n)," Tyler said.

You looked at Tyler and there it was again- those puppy eyes. Tyler saw how you looked at him with such adoration. But a sweet girl like you shouldn't crush on a single father like him.

Besides, you were his son's age. He couldn't possibly stomach liking in the way you liked him- it would feel weird and almost wrong.

"You have a thing for me, huh?" he chuckled.

You turned away from him and muttered, "Maybe . . . "

He stroked your hair and hummed in response.

"No need to be embarrassed, sweetheart."

You glanced at him, "Well, Mr. Dur- I mean, Tyler. I do really like you, but I know that it would be weird for you to like me too. I just feel so stupid about this whole thing."

Your eyes welled up in frustrated tears, and you attempted to quickly blink them away, but it only made them worsen.

Tyler took your hand and held it gently, squeezing to let you know that he's here.

"You're not stupid. Sweetheart, I'm flattered, really. It's so adorable when you dress up in pretty little outfits- don't think that I haven't noticed. And your attempts at even the slightest physical touch from me are endearing. You're a darling, beautiful, young lady. It's just that I'm old enough to be your father."

"I know," you sobbed.

Never have you felt more humiliated about a crush.

Tyler kissed your forehead, "It's okay, sweetheart. You can't control who you like sometimes. It just happened to be me this time. But one day you'll like someone else who's your age. And if they hurt you, let me know right away, hm? I'll take care of them for you, and I'll always take care of you."

"Thank you, Tyler. I don't think my crush on you will go away soon, though," you sniffled.

"Oh of course it won't, silly," he chuckled. "You can't get over me that fast."

You giggled and hugged him tightly.

"Thanks, for everything."

Tyler grinned and opened the door to the house for you. There stood Steven, eavesdropping with tears in his eyes.

Steven rushed out to hug you, "MY BABY, MY POOR GIRL! IT'S OKAY, DON'T CRY OVER MY YUCKY FATHER!!! I'LL FIND YOU A NICE GUY SOON!"

All three of you burst into laughter.

Days and weeks passed by, and you still liked Tyler, but it was getting easier for you to ignore those feelings. You still went to their house to study, eat, and hangout. You wore your pretty outfits, and Tyler would grin upon seeing you.

Sometimes he would catch you staring, and he would wink just to tease you.

But even though he didn't reciprocate your feelings for him, the world didn't end. Everything was okay<3

[END]

[jessythebunny]

💚Oliver the great western engine🍃

💚Oliver takes his work seriously and he is very serious about his work to a great degree, and he doesn't like to mess around and play while working

💚he can sometimes be cocky and he has a sassy side, and he can do sassy things, but he is always stern and very creative in anything and he has to do his jobs without dilly dalliying

💚Oliver is a bit softie and he loves to wear some cozy clothes but he gets annoyed when someone's calling him a girl because of his style

💚he's afraid of fireworks because they remind him of the scrapyard, and also when he passes from it, he remember that time when he was there and starts crying

💚The green ribbon on his head is a gift from Duck after he became his boyfriend as a thank you. And he always wears it and he loves it so much

💚he's sometimes being rude to Toad and he doesn't care about him, like when he saw a beached whale and he didn't believe him, and he was singing and Oliver found his voice really ugly and loud, so maybe Toad doesn't deserve all this treatment from this dumbass

💚Oliver likes eating snacks like salted nuts or salted bescuits or strawberries dipped in chocolate

💚he has a massive crush on Duck and he's already taken by him, and also he has strong feeling for Douglas, but like I said many times the two take turns to avoid the fight

💚he's close with Duck, Toad, Donald and Douglas, Edward ,Marina(oc), Skiff, BoCo, Jenny(oc)

💚good friends with Thomas, Percy, James, Toby, Daisy, Emily, Henry, Philip, Mia(oc), and very nice to everyone

💚he's still mad at Diesel for Duck and sometimes when he sees him, he has to beat him up

🩶Toad the brake van🧸

🩶Toad is a very kindhearted and is a pure child with pure intentions and soul, and it is impossible for him to ever swear

🩶Toad works and does his best to be a useful brake van, and he doesn't care if anyone makes fun of him like the troublesome trucks

🩶Toad will do anything and do the impossible to help anyone and be a brake van to anyone when his time is free, just that engine has to pull him slowly because when that engine goes really fast, Toad starts to get terrified. Gordon don't you dare to touch him

🩶Toad enjoys anything related to the sea, and he likes singing about the sea, and he sits infront of the shoreline of the beach and starts singing

🩶Toad really likes to hang out with James and Emily, and he's their child

🩶He likes to call anyone Mr. or Miss, just to show his respect for them

🩶he's close with Oliver, Duck, Donald and Douglas, James, Emily, Dilly, Marina (oc), Jenny (oc), Mia(oc), BoCo, Bill and Ben, Edward, Skiff

🩶good friends with Thomas, Percy, Henry, Toby, Mavis, Philip, Rosie, and he's nice to everyone

[morvantmortuary]

I tried to post something at the show itself, but tumblr… ate it :’D alas.

so, a few days late but still exciting, have some photos of the tiny!morvants accompanying me and our bestie @bigtiddythanos to the Hozier show over the weekend!!

(left is me trying to take a photo of them in my lap in their Enclosure, right is tiddy generally providing a better angle from where they were sitting in front of us lmao.)

we had really amazing seats at the very end of our row, which meant we both got to go absolutely feral during respective songs (me during Francesca, specifically, bc I didn’t think he was going to play it and then I throttled poor Tiddy’s hands all the way through), and not worry about crowding anyone with our massive emotions lmao

this photo’s a bit zoomed in, but you get the general sense of where we were!

The Man himself was amazing: he was tall, his hair was up and then it was down, and he said the sweetest little “thank you so much! :D” after each song when the crowd lost their minds, as though we’d all just shown up to a little club gig and he hadn’t literally sold out the entire venue. he even came out in the crowd for his first encore, Cherry Wine!! (which I have video of but won’t post so I don’t have to subject people to me singing along under my breath :’D)

and ofc, here he is after his last song of the official set (none other than Take Me to Church, which was its own kind of religious experience ngl), with the pride flag he brought up for his mic:

it’s grainy, but I thought the thumbs up was so cute lmao

part of the original, pre-show post that got eaten was me guessing which song each necromancer(/vampire) would lose their mind during if it got played. however, now that I’ve experienced the whole set for myself, I can tell you with certainty what songs each of them would definitely have flipped out about that evening :D

Maxi - To Be Alone and It Will Come Back, bc they’re both v much how he feels about you. Probably the one freaking out the most during the whole evening; you’ll recall Hoze was his favorite artist to sprawl out on the embalming table and daydream about you to during the early days of your relationship. ;D actually, there was also one dude there in a full suit (with his girlfriend, in her own flowing black dress morticia-style, I was extremely jealous) and I couldn’t help but subtly point him out to Tiddy like ‘yep. that would be our guy. there he is, Mr. Suits-or-Sweatpants-No-Inbetween, the King ♥️’ lol

Hex - Work Song, for the above, which he would’ve been exceptionally excited about as the v last encore, but also Too Sweet bc its a fun jam when he has the radio playing in his dark room or the kitchen

Rora - Like Real People Do, for the same (which she would have insisted on kissing you during), but also the Cherry Wine encore for her own reasons. some things just are too familiar, even when you haven’t bled like a human in a long time.

Seth - Eat Your Young, bc it’s a deeply sexy song about cycles exploitation, which is. his entire vibe tbh, but also secretly From Eden for the above even if he wouldn’t cop to it

Leon - Mostly there just to hang and vibe, but he’d have done the leo dicaprio pointing meme while the necromancers were losing their shit during Take Me to Church like ‘I recognize that one!!! :D’ (he is. not always the most aware of ‘modern’ music, despite having local bands at his bar as often as he can lmao.)

anyway! thank you for humoring me as always 🖤 and thank you once again to our buddy Tiddy for inviting us along 🥰 it was a magical evening, and it’s kickstarted not one but two pieces I was stuck on, so thank you for that too ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

happy may day/beltane to all in the meantime, and I hope everyone’s week is off to a good start! cheers to meeting the halfway point!!!

[jamiethebanished]

Eternal Love

Joseph Quinn x GN!Reader

A/N: The character the reader is uses they/them pronouns but has the body of a female. Also, I’ve seen this format of fanfiction done so many times. I just wanted to try it myself. Oh, and this gets saucy. So, people below 18…DO NOT READ! Also, this one is EXTREMELY long. But, hopefully it’s worth it. Lastly, a MASSIVE thank you to the writer @ceriseheaven! They helped out with my writers block and get this fic out sooner than I thought!

Warnings: RPF (if you don't like it, don't read it), semi naked dry humping, neck biting kink, mentions of blood, oral (receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) If I missed any, let me know.

Word Count: 3,815

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Y/N had travelled quite extensively in their life as an actor so far. But, they hadn’t been to the England countryside up until now. A film crew had set up in the heart of the woodland at night. The production Y/N was starring in is for a dark romantic film called “Searching For Eternity”. It’s about a vampire finding someone to love and be with forever. Y/N is playing said lover. But, the vampire? It was kept a secret from them. The director only told them that it was "a surprise". However…They were about to find out very soon.

They had arrived on the set of the production and stepped into their trailer to get into costume and makeup as their character Amara Kearne. This production was set in a modern era, but everyone does make an effort to take care of their appearance in this setting for the film. Y/N’s costume consisted of a dark grey V neck jumper, high waisted black jeans with a belt that had silver embellishments and slip-on shoes with a small heel. The makeup was simple. Natural eyeshadow, mascara and a bit of blush to give some life into their pale complexion. They were also wearing very bold red lipstick. Y/N never wore lipstick in that shade before, as they thought it didn’t suit them. But, after their hair was styled into a neat ponytail, they looked in the mirror. It was like they were looking at someone different at first, but when they realised that it was their reflection, all Y/N could do was gasp.

“Wow…I look…spectacular!”

A few minutes after the costume, makeup and hair team went away, there was a gentle knock on Y/N’s trailer door. They were fully dressed and waiting for the all clear from the production team to let them know that it was ready to start filming, so they gave them the permission to enter.

“Come in!”

Then, the door opened. They turned their head to greet whoever came in. Y/N’s eyes widened and their mouth slightly hung open.

It was Joseph Quinn.

He was already in costume. Black shirt with the top 2 buttons undone, silver chain around his neck that sits just above his collarbones, matte black suit with a subtle glossy floral print on the suit jacket and trousers. He also wore a glossy black belt and shiny black shoes. He had a little makeup on as well. His nails looked like small claws. He wore brown contact lenses that have a subtle dark red tint when in the light. There was also dark eyeshadow around his eyes to give that “sunken in” look. And, there were small fangs poking out from underneath his top lip. His hair was naturally curly and it was a shade of rich chocolate brown. He had a trimmed beard as well.

Joseph fully walked into the trailer and smiled gently at Y/N’s gobsmacked expression.

“You must be Y/N. It’s lovely to finally meet you. I’m a big fan of your work.”

He held out his hand to give them a formal handshake. Y/N smiled and accepted, holding his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you too, Mr Quinn. Your performances have always been astonishing.”

He blushed gently at their compliment, the fangs adhered to his canines peeked through his adorable smile.

Then, Joseph brought the back of Y/N’s hand to his lips and gently kissed the surface. The hairs of his beard brushed against their skin as he kissed their hand. His naturally pink lips were soft like silk, causing Y/N to feel butterflies in their stomach.

“Please…call me Joseph. And, the pleasure is all mine, Y/N.”

The two of them were now locked in eye contact. His doe eyes gazed into Y/N’s eyes. It felt like forever. In those brown eyes of his was the warmth of an everlasting hearth, as if they were the wood that could burn with golden flame yet be forever perfectly entire. The way his eyes twinkled under the fluorescent light in the trailer was almost hypnotic. After a while, Joseph realised that he was still holding onto their hand. So, he gently let go and chuckled a little.

“I, uhh… I think they're ready for us. So, I…I better get to the location this scene is set in. Also, neither of us will know what our characters will do together. That knowledge is with the director, and he won’t tell me. So…let’s wish us both luck and…do this thing!”

Y/N chuckled before Joseph left the trailer to get started on filming. They followed moments after.

The setting of this scene was a lone house in the countryside, where lush woodland surrounded the garden. The house itself looked quite gothic. It suited Joseph’s character, Tristan Dagenheart, more. But, Y/N didn’t mind. They went upstairs and into the master bedroom, laying on top of the neat bed and closing their eyes.

Action.

Amara Kearne lay in peaceful slumber on the queen sized bed that was cushioning her body. She twisted and turned as she struggled to feel comfort. The sensation of trepidation crawled its way through Amara’s body like claws latching onto her delicate skin. As Amara slept, an icy mist slipped through the gap of the open window in the bedroom. The mist then started to take shape.

Amara’s unsettlement became worse. Her head was warning her about the presence of another in her room. Amara awoke with a gasp as she quickly sat up in her bed. She was now seeing who was in her room, sitting on her bed and watching her. It was Tristan Dagenheart, the man shrouded in mystery. She had become acquainted with him not too long ago. They were somewhat friends, but he had kept a lot of information about himself from Amara. She never wanted to pry, but she was intrigued by him. She caught her breath and looked at him.

“O-oh! Tristan! You…you startled me. What are you doing here? H-how did you get in? I-“

Tristan then raised his hand to her, which silenced Amara. He cleared his throat.

“That doesn’t matter right now. I will explain later. But, as of this moment, I need to speak to you. It is very important, so I advise that you listen to everything I have to say. Do you understand, Amara?”

His low yet gentle South London accent felt like satin softly sliding against her skin. She nodded gently. Tristan smiled a little.

“Thank you... Amara, I have had this feeling ever since our first encounter. A feeling that I have to pursue. I can’t hide it anymore. Amara… I am in love with you. I am consumed by the desire to be with you, to talk to you, and to feel you near me. It is like this…insatiable taste in my throat that I am somewhat addicted to. I…"

Tristan then closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths and straightened his suit jacket. Once his eyes were open, his dark irises gazed deep into hers.

"...I love you, Amara."

Her eyes widened.

But, then, the director shouted.

“CUT!"

Joseph and Y/N turned to the director, a look of confusion on both of their faces.

“What’s the problem?”

Y/N spoke. The director chuckled.

“Oh, there’s no problem. You’re both doing fantastic. I’m just stopping to tell you what’s about to happen with your characters.”

This was it. Their curiosity was about to pay off. Y/N and Joseph put their full attention onto the director.

“Okay. So, Amara tells Tristan that she loves him as well. They kiss. Then, a passionate moment ensues. After that, Tristan bites Amara, turning her into a vampire. I’m leaving the juicy details up to you, since I want to keep this as raw and genuine as possible.”

Joseph and Y/N were both flabbergasted. They were not expecting that. But, when Y/N looked at Joseph, he had a dark blush spread across the apples of his cheeks. That caused them to blush as well. Joseph then chirped in, his expression now determined.

“Okay! Let’s do this!”

Y/N was too stunned to speak, but they went along with it. Despite being nervous, they wanted to know how this would turn out. Both of them got back into position and the director set a timer on the camera before leaving the room. Since this was a passionate scene, he didn't want to make it awkward by watching them.

3.

2.

1.

Action.

Amara’s eyes widened and her mouth hung open a little bit. Tristan…loved her? She then swallowed a lump in her throat and gazed into his rich chocolate irises.

“Tristan…I-I love you too”

He had hope in his eyes and a shy smile on his face. Tristan then gently placed his hand onto Amara’s cheek, his thumb lightly stroking the surface. He inched closer to her so their thighs were touching. He then tilted his head and leaned in, pressing his lips onto hers in a soft yet passionate kiss.

Unbeknownst to Joseph, this was Y/N’s first kiss. They hadn’t been in a romantic film up until this very moment, and no person wanted to pursue them outside of their career. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as they melted into the kiss Joseph was giving them. His lips tasted like Madagascar vanilla ice cream. But, the subtlest hint of smoke from a cigarette mixed with the taste of the rich vanilla flavour. The fusion created an unusual yet enticing symphony of passion.

Y/N kissed Joseph like they wanted to be kissed, like no one had ever kissed them. Soft and moist and hot and breathy, not trying to win a battle but seeking union and closeness and the sharing of one breath.

One sensation.

One passionate and timeless moment.

The heat rose in Y/N’s cheeks as their tongue touched Joseph’s tongue, quick and electric and delicious.

The kiss then became firmer, more determined, more curious about the heat that lay within, seeking to chase down that elusive liquid lightning that reached through both of them. Joseph then slowly and lightly pushed Y/N down onto the bed, their back pressed into the mattress and their head rested on the pillow.

Joseph then pulled the quilt up to their waist so their lower halves were covered up. He pulled away from the intense kiss and took off his suit jacket before he unbuttoned his shirt. Y/N began to see his smooth, detailed chest being revealed to them slowly, causing a deep pink blush to form on the apples of their cheeks. Once he took his shirt off, Joseph loosened his belt and pulled his trousers down so they were off. Y/N caught sight of his boxers and the blush on their cheeks became a darker shade. After he was undressed, he slid his hand underneath Y/N's back to lift them up and undo their bra. Once it was unclipped, Joseph pulled down the straps until the whole thing came off to reveal their breasts. To Y/N, they weren't anything special. But, seeing Joseph blush and turn his head away bashfully made them smile.

"It's okay…you can look. I trust you."

And with that spoken consent, Joseph turned his head to see their body being presented to him. He was lost for words.

"W-wow…you look…stunning. You have the body of a goddess, my love. You're…ethereal"

Y/N smiled gently. His words could bring tears to their eyes. Joseph spoke like a poet.

"I-I…I don't know what to say…"

He silenced them with a gentle kiss, laying them back down onto the bed and positioning his crotch in between their legs. Feeling the sensation of Joseph's concealed member gently rub against their clothed nether regions made Y/N quiver in anticipation. Under the incandescent light of the chandelier that hangs on the ceiling of the bedroom, Joseph's rich chocolate brown eyes gently sparkle as he stared at Y/N. He had a gentle expression on his face. It looks like he had broken character since Tristan was shrouded in mystery and had a cold yet subtly gentle gaze.

"Are you ready, my dear? We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll understand"

Y/N smiled softly. He sounded so genuine, even though this was a performance. They nodded.

"Yes…I-I'm ready"

Joseph smiled kindly and he let out a gentle exhale.

"Th-then…if its alright with you…would you…would you like to…spend eternity with me?"

Y/N had almost forgotten that they were in a production. They smiled through the pain in their chest. This love wasn't real. It was merely a facade. A performance. But, they had to go on.

"...oh Tristan…I would be delighted to"

Joseph smiled and exhaled heavily. His hands were steady on the bed as he began to press his clothed manhood against Y/N's concealed nether regions. This wasn't the full experience, yet both of them didn't mind. Joseph had kept a calm mindset up until this very moment. Now, his breathing was irregular and his chest was heaving harder than before.

He then began to slowly move his hips, gliding his cotton boxers against Y/N's lace panties. The unexpected sensation of Joseph's gradually hardening cock rub against Y/N's surprisingly damp altar of Venus sent a strange yet intoxicating symphony of shivers down their spine.

Maybe this performance was more real than they had thought.

His movements were slow yet full of a burning passion that felt right. Joseph's breathing was light yet quick and there were a few gentle moans sprinkled in between. Y/N's bare chest gracefully pressed into Joseph's pectoral muscles, their nipples lightly grazing each other occasionally. They wrapped their legs around his waist, pulling his hips closer and pressing his covered manhood further into their concealed genitalia. Y/N's breathing became heavier as the pleasure began to build up inside of them.

Joseph then snapped back into the character of Tristan. His gaze became intense and there was a subtle growl in his throat as he exhaled heavily.

"Now…let us seal this eternal bond…if you will allow me, I want to make sure you're with me forever. Amara…may I bite you?"

Y/N became a little nervous. One of their biggest turn ons is neck biting. The character of Amara is oblivious to vampires, since she'd never seen one. Y/N had always been intrigued by them. After a soft gulp, they slowly nodded.

"...y-you may"

Joseph as Tristan then slowly leaned down as Y/N tilted their head to the side, giving him more room. He then placed his hand on the back of their head and his lips onto their neck, kissing the surface of the skin before opening his mouth and wrapping his lips around their neck and pressing his teeth into the skin, gently biting them.

Y/N gasped loudly, pretending that this hurt. But, it was overwhelmingly pleasurable. It was hard for them to focus on acting as they felt his cock underneath his boxers grow harder since there was slight movement from his hips against their genitalia. The sensitivity of their nether regions only heightened the sensation of Joseph's hardening bulge rubbing against their soaked panties.

As Joseph had his teeth and fangs pressed into the surface of Y/N's neck, he moaned softly. Not only because he was acting like Tristan was enjoying the taste of Amara's blood, but because he could feel his cock rub against Y/N's dripping wet pussy that hid behind a thin wall of silky fabric.

Y/N gripped onto his back tightly and pressed their chest into his as they neared climax while Joseph bit their neck. They couldn't tell how he was feeling since, in all honesty, he was a more experienced actor than them. After a few more moments, the camera had finished recording.

It was over.

Joseph retracted his mouth from Y/N's neck and looked into their eyes. He nervously chuckled.

"Well, that was certainly an experience."

Much later…

After everything had wrapped up, Y/N was back in their classy hotel room that was paid for by the production. They were having a long soak in the luxury bathtub, letting the warm water envelope their entire body as they let out a long exhale. It had been a long day, so it was nice to have a break from the excitement.

But then, there was a gentle knock on their door.

They panicked. Y/N's heart began pounding in their chest as they got out of the bathtub and wrapped themselves in a towel and fluffy dressing gown that stopped at their ankles. Y/N then took deep breaths before opening the door.

It was Joseph Quinn.

This time, he was dressed in a burgundy jumper with slightly baggy dark blue jeans. The usual chain donned his neck as he looked into Y/N's eyes.

There were no contact lenses. Joseph was looking at them with his pure chocolate button eyes. He took some deep breaths before coming closer, gently placing his soft hands onto their covered shoulders and leaning in to press his silky smooth lips onto theirs.

This time, the kiss was hungry. Full of a burning passion that had been kept at bay for far too long. His lips were warm and soft. They had the familiar taste of Madagascar vanilla ice cream. This time, the deep passion created a rich, amoretto tainted fudge taste which only made Y/N want more. Joseph's subtly swollen lips parted slightly, allowing their tongue to slip inside and explore his mouth. Heavy breaths and guttural moans filled the hotel room as Joseph pinned Y/N to the wall. Their bodies pressed together heatedly, breathing heavily as their lips moved in sync, like they were created to kiss each other. Y/N could taste their shared breath, feel the thud of their combined heartbeat as they fumbled to take off each other's clothes. This was almost primal instinct.

They needed each other.

They wanted each other.

They craved each other.

Joseph only pulled away to get Y/N onto the bed, gently pushing them down onto the soft mattress and getting on top of them like a vicious animal finally catching its prey and preparing to feast.

No words were needed in this passionate interaction. They both knew that they wanted to feel the full experience since they weren't allowed to in the production of the film. Joseph and Y/N both stared into each other's eyes as their breaths calmed down. The pair only slowed down to remove the rest of their clothes. Once they were fully naked, Joseph drank their body in like it was a glass of water at the end of an exhausting journey.

He lowered himself until his face was level with their throbbing cunt. Joseph bit his lip before licking a thick stripe up the neat folds of Y/N's genitals. As soon as Y/N felt his warm tongue against their clitoris, they arched their back and firmly pressed the back of their head into the pillow underneath them. This was the all clear Joseph needed to start aggressively tasting his muse as they gently squirmed underneath him.

Y/N gripped the sheets underneath them with such force, their knuckles turned white. As Joseph tasted the juices that leaked from Y/N's nether regions, he noticed it was very fruity. A mixture between pineapple, orange and a hint of mango filled his mouth.Their legs gently clenched around Joseph's head, his curly brown locks tickling their thighs only slightly. That only made them squirm even more. He chuckled at their actions as he tasted the juices that dripped from their subtly aching cunt.

Y/N was getting close to release, but that was when Joseph stopped and looked up at them with a devilish smirk on their face.As Y/N looked at him, Joseph crawled on top of them. His legs spread theirs only slightly, leading Y/N to wrap their legs around his waist. His arms pinning their shoulders to the bed as he gazed into their eyes. At that moment, only two words were exchanged between them since every inch of Y/N's cunt was already dripping for his cock.

"Ready?"

"Yes"

The next 35 minutes for the pair was pure euphoria. Joseph, despite being eager to fuck them hard, went slow at first and making sure his cock was fully buried in their entrance before pulling almost all the way out and thrusting back inside them with just the right amount of force. The sounds of Joseph's balls gently slap against Y/N's bare ass and the wetness from their dripping cunt echoed through the luxurious hotel room.

Y/N's walls cage his cock perfectly, like the two last pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Y/N's hands gripped onto Joseph's back, using their nails to make claw lines on his back. He growled seductively before leaning down and capturing the surface of their neck with his teeth, biting their neck like he was a vampire.

This time, Y/N could fully enjoy this moment instead of restricting themselves. They moaned loudly as they felt his teeth against their neck. Y/N used their arms and legs to pull Joseph closer to them and place their feet on his ass while their arms are around his shoulders and their hands still on his back.

Both of them were close to climax. Their sweat mixed together as Joseph's mouth was still on Y/N's neck, their bodies entwined together in euphoric harmony, their breaths heavy and their hearts racing. Joseph let go of Y/N's neck and looked into their eyes. He smiled softly, a gentle blush crawling onto the apples of his cheeks.

"Let us come undone…together"

Y/N nodded. Then, in the span of a minute, both Joseph and Y/N closed their eyes and moaned loudly as they reached the peak of their orgasm. Y/N could feel his seed enter them as their highs died down. After the vigorous experience was finished, Y/N let out a sigh of relief as Joseph got off of them and laid next to them. He then wrapped his arms around Y/N's waist and pulled them close to his body. He started to kiss their face and run his hand through their hair.

"We may not have been acquainted for very long, but I…I would love to call you mine"

Y/N's eyes widened as a smile slowly crept onto their face. They gave him a quick kiss on the lips before saying the word that they wanted to say, and he wanted to hear.

"...Yes."

The End

[tc-doherty]

Songs: I Know - Cut Capers, Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode, Awake - Electric Guest, Style - Foster the People, Aspirations - Gentle Giant, Smoke and Mirrors - Gotye, Hurricane - MS MR, Psycho - Muse, The Hand That Feeds - Nine Inch Nails, Van Horn - Saint Motel

Thank you this was honestly really fun!

I Know - Cut Capers - Seneria. The bouncy style suits her, but so do the lyrics of achieving what you want by doing things your way.

Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode - Mahesha/Izare but mostly from Mahesha's perspective. Their relationship was rocky for a long time due to communication issues. They said things they shouldn't and didn't say things they should. But after growing up they face a new kind of issue and he really wishes Izare could just trust him instead of always questioning everything.

Awake - Electric Guest - Retta. Not just because of all the sailing imagery although also that. But Retta believes that she was born with a god-given mission to end a centuries long feud between her people and another culture, and a lot of these lyrics just vibe with someone who is desperately trying to not only find a way forward but also drag everybody else along to a better future that at the moment only she is capable of envisioning. If that makes sense.

Style - Foster the People - If you didn't think I was going to say Ithea for this one, I don't know what to tell you. Too much of a casual attitude about living, dying, and crime to be anyone else.

Aspirations - Gentle Giant - Gheist, almost a companion piece to the first. He's much calmer and slower, and he trusts Seneria implicitly. If she's going to charge forward and force the world to accept her, well. He'll be right behind. :>

Smoke and Mirrors - Gotye - Iskandar and Clovis, but not as a ship, just as two characters who mirror each other. For Iskandar, pretending to be someone else to gain others' approval without attracting his mom's attention is pretty much his entire storyline. And Clovis, who has such low self-esteem and tries to live this idealized life to be 'worthy' of other's attention. It works for both of them so I can't pick. Maybe it's a conversation between them.

Hurricane - MS MR - The only one I think this really applies to is Izare. He's very wrapped up in self-hatred and self-sabotage for a long time. It suits him when he's young, I think.

Psycho - Muse - bold move to include a group who's entire discography I've listened to haha. But Sigrid. She naturally 'charms' everyone around her, but by the start of the story she's so isolated from no one ever seeing her a person that she manipulates and uses others with no regret, and plenty of enjoyment. Also, her original plan was actually to get the main character to kill for her. She doesn't manage to hold onto the attitude forever, but it's there in the beginning.

The Hand That Feeds - Nine Inch Nails - Lin Mingxian. Maybe not the style, but he very resolutely broke off ties with his family after learning a secret about how they got their wealth and power. Can't reveal too much because it's a massive spoiler for the story. But his only goal is to prove there's a better way to do things by accomplishing the same goal via different methods. So maybe this is how he thought before he 100% committed to confronting his family about what he learned.

Van Horn - Saint Motel - is there actually another option other than Anthem and Ithea? I don't think so. The peppy style matched against those lyrics is very Them.

[gjdraws]

Ho ho ho! CK secret santa here. 🎅 Tis the season for wishes and magic. While I do have the start of a wishlist I'd like to check it twice and ask some follow-up questions. What are some tropes or things you don't see often that when you go hunting for in a story you don't always find or find rarely or haven't found or even just always love? Depending on the capabilities of ...well me, I'd like to make sure I attempt to hit a few of those at least to sprinkle in. No matter what it is, (spicy or not) I'll try my best to fit some in beyond the main things which are semi-rare you already mentioned in your wishlist. (Those I got on my list and they're underlined.) There's quite an ensemble of cast to assign parts to beyond our headliners, would you like them all? Or does it depend on the tale as it unfolds? (Chozen, cobras (all?), Miguel, Robby.) I ask because cannon has put some of them beyond the grave by the time our other friends hit the center stage or are er...indisposed (sad harmonica jail blues) but I can fetch them because the fun thing with this is that canon and time don't have to be abided by thanks to ~Santa magic~ Speaking of cannon, or really set design. Would you like a seasonal piece or would you rather to avoid winter holidays? An AU or something set more closer to cannon? (Does the setting matter? Not everyone celebrates or likes the winter holidays and they can be avoided) *pushes a snow machine off the stage* I'd rather not give you something you don't want on accident. That's it for now -your CK secret santa 🎅

Ooohhhh hullo CK secret santa! First of all no obligation to hit tropes, I realize my tropes may not be your tropes and that's okay!

What I go looking for in stories shbdsdbakdjgh uh well uhhh look it's obvious I'm a johnny simp okay so I'm going to apologize for that right off the bat

But ok - big sucker for any sort of Johnny trying to be a decent adult/mentor/parent for once esp. if the kids are involved (Miguel, or Robby or Sam). Unlearn the way of the fist king

Also massively in love with the friction of Sam preferring teacher Johnny and Robby preferring teacher Daniel and all the issues (and learning) that causes?

Another fun one is people standing up for CK Johnny. I see a lot of Mr. Miyagi trains TKK Johnny, or any sort of reforming TKK Johnny where it's easier for people to see why he's a trashfire. It's harder to feel sympathetic for CK Johnny because hey man you've had 35 years to be better, which is why I think it's easier for people to miss when he tries as an adult. It doesn't help that he's very bad at asking for help. basically let ck johnny realize he has friends who aren't one (1) Miguel

Ensemble cast HmmMMMmm, well clearly big fan of Robby or Miguel or Sam. Also in love with John Kreese and his weird fucked up dad vibes. And hilariously in love with any Terry Silver interaction with Johnny bc of their shared rich kid fucked up by kreese history. he really did that two whole times huh

I do not care about any sort of winter holiday setting, if that helps! Anything that serves the story is all I care about, so you do you in the style of you!

I also sent in a message to the ck santa mod about a better way of communicating in case you had more Qs!

[desolateice]

HELLO my dearest favourite writer! I heard you were sick, so get well soon <3

Can I ask how you write so much in such a small time? Do you have a schedule to keep you in check, or do you just write as soon as motivation springs? I have wanted to write something for the longest time, I really wanted to write a long story but for I've never been able to do it consistently. Do you plan your stories or is it a more "go with the flow thing"? Or a mix of both :0

Apologies for the amount of questions, and take your time with answering!! I just wanted to learn more about writing and I figured I'd ask you!!

Hello anon!

I seem to be on the mend, thank you for your well wishes! I was definitely under the weather for about a little over a week.

So this got away from me. 😅 It’s massive, there’s mild spoilers for fics as I talk about writing them below this cut and also again...the entirety of it is massive. Thank you for asking anon, happy writing and best of luck on your long story. 💖

I do not recommend what I do. I…do almost nothing else. 😅 Mr. Miyagi would be so disappointed in me. There's like no life balance at the moment. During the pandemic I've become a bit of a hermit, more than I normally was/am and so I threw myself into writing. Pretty much any time I have free time and I’m not working or doing chores, I'm writing.

It is a 0/10 do not recommend. That week I was out sick was going to be my attempt at being social again to sort of re-balance and well that failed because instead I had to stay in my room. You don't want to know the amount of tasks, even creative projects, I'm currently avoiding by burying deeper into fic writing.

Like even when I'm not writing, if I'm doing something that doesn't require my brain whether it's baking or cleaning, I'm daydreaming the story. Or showering. Part of why I take long showers is to like de-stress but I'm also trying to figure out plot holes and trying to solve them and usually I do. 😅I cannot recommend a good shower or bath more. I don't know what it is about them.

I would say when I was younger I'd spend my entire breaks writing and in between classes I was writing, and then I started a blog where I reviewed stuff and I'd read that those style blogs did better if you had a consistent posting schedule. So I'd do a lot of work, cram out as many blog posts in a day as I could and then schedule them and I think that habit I instilled in myself from blogging just sort of became a wildfire. I think that mixed with a pretty good word per minute typing is how I crank out so much so fast. I blame my dad, when I was little he told me learning to type was important and so I got to sit in front of the family computer and just write and write and write and play typing games. He also had an old school type writer and I was allowed to play with that too. When I'm in the zone I'm cruising along because of that, though I misspell a lot and I’ve learned to go back and fix that later, or hope to catch it later. My biggest one is teh instead of the. But I've also been to writing conferences and a lot of interviews with writers and that schedule you ask about is always something they talk about.

Writers with full time jobs will try and find a time in their schedule that works for them to write, even if it's a short period of time. Writers with kids will get up early or stay up late to write when their kids have gone to bed. It's really what works best for you. When are you most creative? When does your mind run wild with a story idea?

One of the recent interviews I watched was with Naomi Hirahara, she said she did the Pomodoro method. A Pomodoro is a tomato timer, you might've seen one in kitchen, their kind of cute. But what she does is she calls a friend and they both set a timer for 15 minutes and then write, no distractions. No looking stuff up, no checking social media or your phone, nothing. No self editing or going back to fix things. Just writing as much as you can.

Because you're rushing, because you're being timed, and you've got a friend keeping you accountable you kind of don't think about the words or if they're good or bad you just write and get it out and onto the page. And then they share their word count and just cheer each other on.

It’s also called sprinting. I didn’t know about it until I joined Discord and joined in on some sprints with a sprinting bot and other writers and it can be a lot of fun because you’re working on your own thing but together and there’s comradely and you’re just cheering each other on.

And I think it's important to occasionally write like that. I put brackets for stuff I have to skip over or research more later. [like this] so that I know to come back to it later, or if I'm struggling with a part and know I can skip ahead I'll do something like [Johnny and Daniel go to the beach and try balancing on the poles(?)] and then skip to the part that I have in my head. And then when I have more time I go back and read that note and then fill in that spot, research and fill in the blanks. And if I'm stuck with a spot I'm writing I try and think about what's needed. Sometimes I can fill in what I'd expect to be an entire chapter with a line, or sometimes I just let the characters talk, or I throw in another, or I go back.

Sometimes there's something wrong a couple paragraphs above which is why I'm stuck. Or, I swap fics. Work on a different one for a bit. Semifreddo exists because I got stuck on "Cherry Cordial". I was like hmm I'm stuck, let's go look at this other prompt oh hey idea, ran with it, finished a draft of it and realized oh, solved the issue I was having with "Cherry Cordial". Schedule or inspiration: Sometimes it's both. I save writing after everyone goes to bed and then I let it eat into my sleep, do not recommend, especially because generally I need 9 hours to function and I love to sleep.

Or I write a lot on the weekends when I don't have plans.

Sometimes I start to fall asleep. With Root Beer Floats and Green Tea I would stay up late trying to write as much as possible because I knew it was going to be long and because I tried to do a chapter a day. I’d also get up early and write before I had work. 

So once the posting caught up with me I'd try to write as much as I could when I could at night so I could read it over the next day to publish it and I'd read it over during my lunch break so that I could publish it before dinner and...my sleep suffered.

Now when I get that level of tired I try to go to bed. Because it's not healthy. It was a fun challenge and I honestly needed a distraction from life, but it wasn't sustainable. I will say though that when I'm tired like that sometimes I'll scribble down the skeleton of the idea so that when I have energy I can come back to it, then go to bed after the thought is written down. That balance is important. Like okay, on Saturday I cleaned. I was feeling a bit better and needed to clean and disinfect and I thought this should take just a little bit of time and then I can write. And it took all day. I was so mad and it was kind of a bummer to put away all my Halloween stuff, especially all the baking stuff I didn’t get around to using because I was sick. But I’m sitting here now and it’s so neat and organized and it feels so much better and I’m glad I did it. Even if I lost that time I meant to write. My space needed it, I needed it for my mental health and it was a good thing to do for future me. And I need to work on that more because I kind of feel like a feral cat or something and don’t want to leave and go out but then I do, I go out and meet a friend for a catch up at a cafe, or go to high tea or go to my local library or just spend all day with friends and I feel better. Which again, is exactly why I don’t recommend my style or schedule because oof, my balance and alignment is out of whack and I’m still trying to figure it out. I do think it’s important to give yourself time to write, to find that time, even if it’s 15 minutes once a week. Right now it’s Nanowrimo (National Writing Month, though it’s international) And people challenge themselves to crank out a novel in a month by writing daily. The fun of it is that there’s an official website and there are meetings and a sense of community.

There might be stuff happening near you, and if not there’s plenty of stuff online. I do want to warn you that you can be your hardest critic, especially with a schedule and to not get too upset if you miss a day in your schedule or a week.

Life happens, what’s important is that you enjoy it and have fun and to get back up, take care of yourself and try again. The more you do it, the easier it’ll get. I’m going to share one of their author pep talks with you. This one is from Audrey Niffenegger.

Dear Novelist,

I am sitting at my desk, staring at my computer screen, contemplating National Novel Writing Month with admiration and horror. Admiration for those of you who threw yourselves into writing your novels with furious devotion and a passionate determination to write 1666.66 words per day, and horror at the thought of doing this myself.

I’m a very slow writer. Slow works for me. I have all the bad habits my fellow writers warn you not to fall into: I procrastinate. I write a bit and wander off to think it over and come back two weeks later. I have no schedule, no regular habits, no fetishes, no daily word quota. I incubate ideas for years and once I start to work on them I can spend more years happily researching esoteric bits and bobs that may not even end up in the novel. I am terribly caffeine dependent. I edit while I write.

Surely you don’t do any of that stuff, or you’d be doomed to slowness and would not excel at this National Novel Writing Month thing. My first novel took me four and a half years to write; the second took seven years, though that was because I fell so in love with the research (I was working as a volunteer tour guide at Highgate Cemetery in London) that I had a hard time stopping so I could finish the book. I once spent fourteen years working on a graphic novel.

Why do I let this happen? Because it’s fun. Now that you have created your fictional people and the world they live in, you have probably discovered that they are terrific company and that they are all living in your brain. Suddenly you have a party in your head (a la that old Talking Heads song) and it is hard to make that party happen any faster than it wants to happen. And when the party is finally over, you will feel bereft and alone. So why not slow down and have the maximum experience?

I once studied painting with Ed Paschke, who invited me and my classmates to visit his studio. He was working on six paintings simultaneously. We asked him why, and he replied that he could finish one painting a week or six paintings in six weeks. He preferred to take longer because more things might happen to him in those six weeks, he might have more ideas about any one of the six paintings. He liked to take it slow.

National Novel Writing Month was a chance to jolt your story onto the page, to use the magic of a deadline to whap out your novel. Now that it is December, I hope you will kick back, have a cup of coffee, reread your 50,000 words, ponder a bit, and then… go for a walk. And on that walk I hope your novel will unclench itself in your brain and let you begin the long, slow, delightful work of rewriting it.

With very best wishes for the health of your novel,

Audrey Niffenegger

The reason why I share this is because it’s lovely and because she a bit the opposite of me. She writes slowly, takes her time, and she loves it.

One true piece of writing advice is that everyone does it differently, so you have to take the advice that works for you and figure out your own path.

It might be fixing a schedule, it might be writing every time inspiration strikes and writing like that line in one of the Hamilton songs (”How do you write like you’re running out of time?”) which I fear sometimes is me 😅, or you might just write when you have time. It’s what people do. They write before their kids get up, or after they go to bed, or they write on their train commute, or they give themselves an hour that is devoted only to writing. I took quite a few years off from writing fic, from writing my own stories, but I never stopped writing. I journaled, I wrote poems, I wrote blog posts and I read.

Reading is so important and figuring out why it is can help. I had so many classes try to make me read Moby Dick and I managed to avoid reading it by just reading chapters that we talked about and nothing else, but the point was to understand the way Herman Melville described things and the voice he used.

I had to read the Sermon over and over again and hated it. 😅 It’s so...convoluted. It didn’t work for me, but then one day I didn’t have a lot of options of things to read because I was somewhere where I could get my hands on English books easily but classics are generally free online and I read it and you know what? I enjoyed it and it’s because it starts with the “there was only one bed” trope. But it’s still not one I particularly want to go back to and I got it. I got why I was made to read it so many times. On the other hand for long books I’ve read two massive ‘classic’ books. Ulysses and The Count of Monte Cristo.

 Ulysses is great for studying different styles. Each chapter is a parody of a different style. However it’s hard to follow. You can’t just pick it up and float along with the story. It’s full of ye olde memes and pop culture references and all sorts of stuff that James Joyce put in that I just didn’t get. I had to read it with like three different guides and I still hated it at the end, but I respect the different styles of every chapter and the mechanics of the book as well as the books history itself as a banned book that no one would publish for it’s crude content. Meanwhile, The Count of Monte Cristo is one of my all time favorite books. The way the Alexandre Dumas planned out his story and layer and laid out such a tale of revenge is honestly just my jam. The only other long form story I love in such a way that pulls this plot layering off that I’ve found is One Piece by Eiichiro Oda. (I’m no longer caught up because I tend to let the arcs finish before I pick them it up again and I’ve let several years worth of arcs build up) But reading is important, you learn so much from reading. Different styles, different ways to write and you absorb so much subconsciously. I’ve been told I need to read The Song of Achilles because it’s a style opposite of mine. It’s succinct and apparently the grammar and the way it’s told would do me some good. 😅 But parody is also a great exercise. Short stories are good place to start. Kafka for example, The Metamorphosis has been studied, torn apart by English classes and writers, and parodied over and over again. It’s not my favorite but that’s because to me reading Kafka is like trying to run through quicksand. But his ability to write the nightmare that is bureaucracy and real life, oof, add to that the idea that you wake up as a bug and are still being treated the same and still have to figure out how to get out of bed and get to work? That hits in a really just poignant and a depressing kind of pessimistic way. 

The reason I enjoy writing fic is because there’s a sense of community that is somewhat already built in. When you write your own stuff you’ve got to seek that out, because writing is a relatively lonely hobby. There’s a reason sewing circles and book clubs exist. Because there’s something comforting in knowing you’re not alone. Writing classes can be fun, libraries usually have writing clubs, it can be scary, because writing can be such a personal experience, but I mention it because you never know what feedback on your writing will give you and what advice you might get when you get stuck. Plus they usually give you writing exercises which are a great way to warm up. Which honestly is one of the reasons I love the allvalley100. Being given a prompt and a word limit is a great warm up and it’s a good exercise since I tend to write so much generally. I mean look at this. 😅 I didn’t mean for this to get so long and I’m not done yet... So challenging myself to just 100 words is great for me to exercise my writing muscles. It’s why I also love the Halloween prompts, because I can essentially look at them and think okay what of these sparks my interest? Aliens? I love those sci-fy stories like The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, the TV shows like The Neighbors, the early seasons of 3rd Rock from the Sun, and 3Below. I know what it’s like to move to another country where the language isn’t my native one. And then I just had fun with it. A lot of fun, because I hadn’t played with a sub-genre I enjoy so much which are the alien tries to understand what it’s like to live on earth and ends up making great points about culture and life. 

That is one where I just went with the flow. I had an idea of where I wanted to go, I mean the goal is always romance, so I kind of know where I’m going, but I like jumping from stepping stone to stepping stone to get there. And I definitely made mistakes and then had to go back and figure them out. Like Daniel’s heart beats in the first chapter and I belatedly after having so much fun with language realized the “lore” of the story and the alien culture and then realized whoops...his heart already beat once, do I go back and fix that? It’d already been published, so I just had to figure it out, how to fit that mistake into the story.

I also totally get nervous before I post things. I write and then I’m like ahhhh, and there have been times where I write a new story or start something and think oh no one is going to like this but me. But I’m working on that. Because it shouldn’t matter. As long as I’m enjoying it and entertaining myself it doesn’t matter. I think the first chapter of Root Beer Floats and Green Tea I had it in Ao3 and I had to like force myself to hit the post button and had squeezed my eyes shut and then like ran away from my computer because I was writing something that was for me. I was entertaining myself and didn’t know if anyone else would like it. I almost didn’t. I started it for myself and was like I don’t have to share this, but then I decided, screw it, I’m going to post it. But I still ran away from my computer and got so nervous.

Usually in my head I have a vague idea of what I want to happen, like in the start of Root Beer Floats and Green Tea I knew I wanted to go through the movies because I wanted the whole point to be a ripple effect, by making one change Johnny changed not just his future, but everyone else’s. So I was telling myself the big climatic fight from TKK2 over and over again and it kept changing while I was writing the first arc and slowly making my way there. Originally I kept it the same as the film but put Johnny in the audience, and then realized he’d never forgive Chozen if he threatened Kumiko and tried to kill Daniel, and that Johnny wasn’t the type of person to just sit in the audience, so I had to move him, I had to change the story. Because I wanted to keep that friendship, that crush and not destroy everything. Because in my mind Johnny was fuming from the audience, comforting Yukie but murderous and holding back because Mr. Miyagi wasn’t panicking and he believed in Daniel and I realized that it just didn’t work.

He had to be a part of it. The whole point of Root Beer Floats and Green Tea is that actions and fixing things changes everything and I had to figure out Chozen better and why, if I wanted them to get along so I could pull Chozen into that third movie as well, I had to keep them friends. I had to bridge a gap that the original plot of TKK2 and the friendship I had for all of them in my mind just didn’t match. So I was toying with the future plot while writing the first arc. There were so many showers where I told myself that fight over and over again until I finally figured out the way I wanted it to go. 😅 I tend to think up where I want something to go, and there’s a scene I want to get to and then I work on the steps it takes to get there. If it’s too far away I will write down a quick list of everything to get there. Like I have done that with Buku Buku Cha because I know where I want it to go and what I want to happen though sometimes I change the route just a bit, but I knew I’d set it aside for all the Halloween prompts and run out of time to work on it so I have a list of everything so I won’t forget. And when I was writing the final arc of Root Beer Floats and Green Tea I listed all the plot points I wanted to hit before I ended the story, and those ended up, for the most part, becoming chapters because the entire thing got away from me.

So I suppose it’s a bit of both. For Root Beer Floats and Green Tea I knew kind of how I wanted it to end. I knew the scene I wanted, to see how everything had changed, all the people who loved them and were a part of their lives still through Daniel’s eyes and what Johnny decided to do, the thing that made him actually happy and that was how I’d kind of wanted it to end from the beginning though I hadn’t decided what Johnny would do at the start. But I wanted to pull everyone in, because I kind of viewed Cobra Kai as lonely. That they’d let go of all these people in their lives for so long, and were just starting to build their communities thirty or so plus years later. And I thought, if we make one change at the beginning the ripple effect could be massive, a moment of mutual kindness that turns into love, a chance to be kind to one another and listen, it might be bumpy, but it could improve everyone’s lives. By letting Mr. Miyagi interact with Johnny, by giving him guiding and care there’s a chance to keep him from becoming a self-destructive alcoholic like he is in the show and maybe he wouldn’t loose touch with those who loved him and Daniel wouldn’t be alone for so long. (I mean he has Mr. Miyagi, but still I wanted to bring them more. I nearly brought them all the Cobra Kai people too 😅 But then decided it was too much and I had to stop because my original idea nearly made Amanda their wedding planner and dear friend, but then there would’ve had to be another arc and I got tired.) It didn’t end up being the end end, I wrote it earlier than the rest of the final arc, before I switched to finishing up other fics like Konpeito, because I needed to get that image down and out and then I worked my way back towards it when I finally sat down to finish the rest of Root Beer Floats and Green Tea. Originally that was the end end.

TLDR: I don’t think I have a schedule but I do, I write whenever I’ve got time and if I don’t I try and take notes so I don’t forget. I also do a mix of planning but usually I’m more of a go with the flow writer. I have plot points I generally want to get to do and then work my way to them.

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

I’ve been really busy at work lately but it’s felt really good overall. Sure I’m feeling a little pressure and I’m a bit stressed but that’s par for the course.

A random aside. There was a time when I did a Movie Line of the Week post on this here blog. It’s been seen from time to time but I thought I’d throw one in here this week.

When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, and he looks you crooked in the eye and he asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol' Jack Burton always says at a time like that: “Have ya paid your dues, Jack?” “Yessir, the check is in the mail.”

I love this film. It’s a great action comedy.

I hope you enjoy the links.

ESPN

Dick Butkus, arguably the fiercest Monster of the Midway, has died at age 80, the Chicago Bears announced Thursday.

This man was an animal on the football field. I for one loved that style of play. I know it’s not great but I can’t help it. When I played football I always wanted to make folks remember I hit them. Problem was, I was a beanpole and was the one getting hammered! 🤣

RIP Mr. Butkus. 🪦

Matt Mullenweg

This month, Automattic had the privilege of working with the Berkman Klein Center for Internet & Society (BKC) to migrate their early 2000s blogging platform over to our Pressable infrastructure.

I’m really happy to see WordPress do this. There was a time when it seemed the Berkman content would just disappear.

Thank you Matt and WordPress! ❤️

Dr Katie Mack • BBC Science Focus

The James Webb Space Telescope has captured images of ancient galaxies that shouldn’t exist. A cosmologist explains what could be going on.

I love science. That about sums it up for me. We’ve now explored further than ever before and are finding new and interesting things to understand! 🔭

Sharon Adarlo • Futurism

Microsoft’s data centers in West Des Moines, Iowa guzzled massive amounts of water last year, the Associated Press reported earlier this month, to keep cool while training OpenAI’s ChatGPT-4, the Microsoft-backed company’s most advanced publicly available large language model.

It’s time for someone to work on a new cooling system for these data centers or stop doing what they’re doing.

Just burn the world down in the name of shareholder value! 🔥

Joseph Foley • Creative Bloq

Bad news for anyone using Unreal Engine for VFX or animation. Epic Games has confirmed that it will begin charging industries outside gaming to use of the 3D graphics engine next year. Fees will be charged on a per-seat basis.

I wonder how Hollywood is going to react to this news?

Also, isn’t Unreal Engine amazing? 🎥

The Register

In a sane world, such massive, sustained incompetence coupled with warning signs a mole rat could see from Mars would have killed Twitter by now, with Musk’s rep as a hands-on CEO on a par with Uri Geller’s as a metalworker.

Yeah, a Space Karen appearance. I have so darned many pieces stashed in Pocket about the man I need to do another Musk Files post.

Can someone please convince the man to sell the twitter.com domain to them and fire up a Mastodon instance? 🐘

By Trisha Thadani,  Rachel Lerman,  Imogen Piper,  Faiz Siddiqui and  Irfan Uraizee • The Washington Post

Teslas guided by Autopilot have slammed on the brakes at high speeds without clear cause, accelerated or lurched from the road without warning and crashed into parked emergency vehicles displaying flashing lights, according to investigation and police reports obtained by The Post.

It’s time to remove “self-driving” and “assisted driving” technologies from cars until they’re proven to work.

Yeah, I’m a curmudgeon. 👴🏼

Jonathan Prynn • Evening Standard

First look inside Apple’s spectacular offices at Battersea Power Station

Now this is a cool looking office. It’s nice to see Apple renovate something instead of doing a new new build. More companies should do this. 👍🏼

John Yoon and Orlando Mayorquin • The New York Times

The authorities in Baltimore on Wednesday said they had not located any suspects or made any arrests after five people, including four students, were shot and injured on the Morgan State University campus on Tuesday night.

The fun epidemic in America continues. 😔

HILARY HOWARD and PATRICK McGEEHAN • The New York Times

The limit on the capacity of the city’s network of drains, pipes and water-treatment plants is the main reason New Yorkers across all five boroughs suffered through flooding. And this probably will not be the city’s last bout with heavy flooding as it plays catch-up with the pace of climate change, experts said.

Climate change is coming home to roost. I suppose it has been for a while now but it gets a lot of attention when a major American city gets hit.

I feel pretty gloomy about our future as a species. ⛈️

George Carden • The Argus

Shock as yew tree which ‘predates the Battle of Hastings’ felled

Two ancient trees felled in a weeks time. What is wrong with people?

Don’t they know we need more trees, not fewer? 🌳

[c-40]

A-T-2 427 UK Lovers Pt.2

Part One is here A-T-2 222 and Carol Thompson A-T-2 351 and UK lovers rock made outside of London A-T-2 225 but this isn't the leftovers

Anthony Brightly - I Love You stunning instrumental to begin with. You can find this on the Soul Jazz compilation Harmony, Melody & Style (Lovers Rock In The UK 1975-1992) (Volume One)

Mystic Harmony - That Feeling Johnny Osbourne cover from same people that did that fantastic Nights Over Egypt cover Backatcha reissued the other year

Freddy Clarke - Are We Gonna Make It Up massive shame I can't find the dub on YouTube

Sandra Dee - Tear Fall From My Eye oowah! oowah!

Legato - I Cares also from the Harmony, Melody & Style (Lovers Rock In The UK 1975-1992) (Volume One) compilation

Carol Campbell - Let's Kiss And Make Up debut single from East London's Carol Campbell released as a 10" single on Jeneive's

One Blood - Love For You produced by Neville King. One Blood provide the dub on the b side/ are the backing group on Charisma - Everything Is Fine in Pt.1 (see above) also produced by Mr King. They were also the band on/provided the dub for Blood Sisters - Ring My Bell and did a great cover of William DeVaughn's Be Thankful for What You Got

Claudia Fontaine and Raymond - Is It Always Gonna Be Like This Claudia Fontaine was in La Famille alongside Caron Wheeler, she sang lead on their 1982 disco hit 'Dancer'

Al Charles - Sugar Me

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴄʜᴏɴ | ɢᴇɴꜱʜɪɴ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ ; ᴢʜᴏɴɢʟɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴏɴᴇ - ꜱʜᴏᴛ

Ayo ayo!! It’s been a second hasn’t it? I’m so sorry it’s been a second since I’ve last posted and I do apologize about that ;; I’ve been in a massive writer’s block but also a drawing mood lololol I finally had the feeling to write after drawing a jealous / possessive dragon Zhongli, thus spurring on with where I am now. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did with writing it!

Art: @ko-ffeine​

>> Admin Ko

“What does today’s commission entail for us?”

Soothing and melodic, the former geo archon’s voice swam into her ears as she briefly glanced back at her companion. It was one of those rare moments gifted to her that she was able to complete some commissions for the adventurer’s guild. After all, being a traveling librarian who focused more on knowledge than combat was much more of her strong suit. 

“It should be something simple. Nothing too hard from what I could gather.” 

A gentle smile was given to the tall male as honey amber hues gazed gently upon her form. Respectable and always the gentlemen, Zhongli stood tall and proud beside the adventuring librarian as the pair leisurely explored the plains of Liyue for the commission spot. When he had first met her, the funeral associate couldn’t help but become enamored by her curious filled eyes. The way she always happened to sought him out for knowledge and genuine respectable curiosity for the information he was able to procure for her.

There was no doubt in anyone’s mind, adeptis or not, that the former archon had become extremely fond of the librarian. Some may even compare it to that of a dragon guarding their beloved treasure. 

“Then I believe if we are to finish this in a timely manner, we could finish our discussion about the historical sights you happened to last visit.” 

Upon seeing her (e/c) shimmer with absolute delight brought a sense of peace into Zhongli’s heart as he couldn’t help but fondly pat her head as she flushed at the endearing action. 

Yet the feeling subsided as they neared the commission sight. Immediately her heart plummeted as she felt the color drain from her face at the familiar sight of an unwanted individual. One that she, disappointedly had the honor of meeting whilst adventuring with Xingqui. 

Having sensed her distress, the male stepped forth almost protectively before her as sweet amber hues turned molten with unbridled rage as he kept his stony gaze on the figure before the pair. 

“There seems to be….a tale of strife here. Do tell me what has happened little one…”

“I…It-’s nothing, c’mon. I think Kathryn won’t be mad if we skip this commission.”

“Did they touch you, Little One?”

“Zhongli….”

“Did those disgusting sewer rats touch you?”

She flinched, the sheer anger that enraptured his words had her gulping as she lightly tugged on his sleeve, her voice soft and desperate to not further escalate the situation as she pleaded with the former archon.

“Please…let’s just go…”

“….Very well.”

Sensing the urgency in her voice, the former god conceded as he turned to face her. The anger in his eyes forcibly subsiding as he hurriedly guided her away before the treasure hoarders could notice. Yet unknown to the librarian, Zhongli had made sure to etch the man’s face into his memory. After all, there was information that had to be gathered. 

Upon the return to the colorful and bustling Oceanside city, (y/n) couldn’t help but breath a sigh of relief. Besides the one commission, everything else had ended rather well. With Zhongli’s strong shield and her own combat style, the commissions ended fairly quickly. 

“Thank you again for your help Mr. Zhongli.”

“Nonsense. I take great pleasure in accompanying you wherever you need it, Little One.” 

The pet name brought a sense of fondness to her heart as she hurriedly turned her gaze away from the liquid honey being poured into her very being as she coughed lightly to distract the male from her reddening cheeks. 

“I really appreciate it…well, I’ll be off then.”

“Hm, returning to Mondstat?”

“That’s correct. It’s been a nice couple of weeks out here in Liyue and I’ve definitely learned a lot from everyone here, but I do need to return to my duties as Lisa’s assistant.”

“I see, well I wish you safe travels back. I do hope that you’ll return soon though. Or else I’ll have to visit the land of the free myself. I do have some acquaintances there after all.”

A light laugh escaped her as she playfully nudged the other. A roll of her (e/c) hues showing nothing but an annoyed fondness as she lightly shook her head.

“Goodness, if I wasn’t so busy I’d think that you’re trying everything in your power to stay by my side Mr. Zhongli.”

“And if I was?”

She waited. A building heat in her veins as she awaited for the handsome man to reply with a joke. Instead of that, she was met with an all serious expression— save for the sweet affection dripping from his amber hues as he brought a hand up to lightly ruffle her hair. Immediately stammering out a flurry of words and rushed goodbyes, the librarian hurriedly bowed before scampering off towards one of the teleportation stations. All the whilst ignoring the fond look and deep chuckle that reverberated from Zhongli’s chest as he watched her scurry off.

Once out of sight, the former archon’s expression went from fond to unbridled anger. The atmosphere around Liyue hurriedly reflecting that of the former archon as darkness enveloped the usually bright lands as Zhongli made his way towards the adventurer’s guide. There, Katheryne easily supplied the terrifying male with the information he desired. Already knowing fully well what was to become of the treasure hoarders that dared to touch his treasure. 

»»————-　　————-««

It had been a week since her return to Mondstat, and if (y/n) was being honest with herself the amount of work thrown upon her had her quickly forgetting the distasteful incident she had faced weeks prior to her return. The disgusting feeling of hands and detestable warm puffs of air against her skin. The mere thought of it alone sent shivers down her spine as she shook off the feeling of disgust as she went about her duties. 

“Now…if I’m correct the next thing on the list is to just give reminders to those who borrowed Ms. Lisa’s books…—ow!”

Yet before she could even begin her search for the current occupants of the various tomes of knowledge a familiar figure loomed before her, causing the librarian to bump straight into a firm chest. Before she could even begin her apologies the stench of blood overwhelmed her as she stumbled backwards to meet familiar golden orbs.

“Ah, I do apologize little one, I hadn’t meant to surprise you…”

“…Zhongli?” 

Finally getting a good look at the former archon she couldn’t help but gasp as she surged forward. His usually crisp and clean outfit was marred in blood and tears, yet in her fervent search for nonexistent wounds, she failed to notice the look of adoration that graced his features. Hesitantly, he peeled off his gloves before a large warm hand found it’s way into her hair as he gently petted her unruly locks to hopefully soothe her anxiety riddled form.

“Fret not little one, I merely disposed of some trash on my way to visit you.”

“…t…rash?”

Confused (e/c) orbs met his own as his hand dropped from the top of her head to lovingly cup her cheek.

“Yes. The trash that dared to create discomfort for you when you and Xingqui had stumbled across in your journey.”

The statement itself brought a sense of dread into her heart as she gulped, knowing fully well how insanely powerful the male was, god or not. 

“D…Did you kill him?”

“No. Though I wish I did, remember our contract little one? I will not break it. Though I do admit, an acquaintance of mine is….educating him as we speak. I merely just gave it a stern talking to.”

Heaving a sigh of relief, (y/n) couldn’t help but slump against the blood muddled archon as she lightly swatted at his chest. The horrors of what could’ve become of the treasure hoarder now long gone— though of course that didn’t keep her from hoping that Zhongli’s ‘acquaintance’ would be merciful. 

“….Thank you, but you didn’t have to Zhongli—-”

“I wanted to. No one should ever make you feel uncomfortable, Little one. As long as I am by your side, this will no longer happen. I promise.”

With a small smile, Zhongli shifted his hand down to hold her own as he lightly kissed the back of it.

“Now, will you please show me your favorite places here in the city of freedom?

[nationalharryleague]

Valentine’s Day

Summary: Y/N receives a special candy gram on Valentine’s Day. 

Genre: Valentine’s Day Fluff with Middle School Band Teacher!Harry 

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Hi my valentines!!! There’s about 30 minutes left of Valentine’s Day for me and I finished this piece right in time!! Thank you to the angel herself @tbslenthusiast​ for beta reading this for me and I cant wait to hear what you all think!! More of my writing can be found in my Masterlist and I would love to hear some feedback! 

***

Valentine’s Day was never fun for you. You dreaded this day every year.

Valentine's Day in a middle school was full of teddy bears and flowers purchased by someone’s mom and having to tell 12 year olds to stop kissing in the hallway. You also knew that you would be inevitably interrogated by your students about your love life before getting any of them to listen to your lesson about the industrial revolution.

And every year, your answer stayed the same.

“It is none of your business,” you would begin with a teasing sigh. “But if you all have to know, I am happily single.”

And every year, you were met with a chorus of disappointed whines.

Your students were always desperate to wiggle their way into your personal life, a side-effect of being one of the youngest teachers in the school. You were closer in age to them than to some of your coworkers and they took advantage of that fact constantly, creating an open and honest dialogue with their favorite history teacher.

“But do you have a crush, Miss Y/L/N?” Jenna, one of your favorite students, piped up this Valentine’s Day from the front row. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way she raised her eyebrow at you from her desk, inquisitive and adorably curious.

“How about this?” you started, raising your own eyebrow to match her’s. “I’ll tell you if I have a crush, if you can tell me why the printing press was so important to the industrial revolution.”

Your heart started to drop as you watched the massive smile stretch across her face, exposing a mouth full of braces with pink rubber bands. They weren't supposed to learn about the printing press for another week.

“It made information more affordable and easier to access which bridged the information gap between the rich and the poor,” she answered like she had the textbook right in front of her. She crossed her arms triumphantly and leaned back into her seat while the class oohed and ahhed around her, knowing she had kept up her end of their deal.

You felt your cheeks heat as your classroom descended into giggles as your flustered face. “Nice job, smarty pants,” you let out with a nervous giggle.

“Remember, honesty is the best policy,” another student shouted out, pointing towards the poster on the wall of your classroom next to the world map that read the same saying.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you conceded, raising your hands in surrender to the classroom full of seventh graders. “I do have a crush.”

Your students erupted at your admission. Whos, whats, wheres, whens, and whys were thrown out by the class, but only a gentle smirk rested on your features, refusing to relinquish any more information to the children demanding it.

“You aren’t getting anything else than that!” you raised your voice to settle the rowdy classroom with a laugh. You moved from the front of the class back to your desk, listening to the gentle click of your heels on the white tile and gathering the stack of worksheets for that day’s lesson. “Now, pass these around and stop asking questions,” you playfully scolded.

“That’s not what your poster says, Miss Y/L/N,” Jenna spoke up again, pointing out another poster on your wall.

Never stop asking questions! was written in bold rainbow colors on the wall and it was now staring back at you.

You let out a chuckle and shook your head at the floor, knowing they had caught you once again. “I’m going to take down all my posters and you’re going to have to learn in a boring classroom soon.”

“We are just looking out for your love life!”

“You deserve a boyfriend!”

“Or a girlfriend!”

“Just someone who loves you!”

You smiled wide at the class full of endearing faces in front of you. They had nothing but good intentions and were sweeter than Valentine’s Day candy. You loved these kids like they were your own.

“Guys, I appreciate your concern,” you confessed. “But I promise I have it under control.”

After that, they began to settle down, eventually letting you give your lesson on the industrial revolution and scientific advancements of the period.

But you knew you had told them a lie.

You did not have it under control, at all. You were hopelessly in love with the kind man with curly hair and green eyes down the hallway in the band room and had no idea what to do about it.

Harry was one of your first friends when you were hired last year, volunteering to show you around the school and fill you in on all the workplace gossip. He had flecks of cheeky mischief in his eyes as he told you about the gym and spanish teachers’ affair and how the coffee machine was broken by one of the math teachers after a bad administrative evaluation. You had listened adoringly, like he was explaining the meaning of life, and you hadn’t been able to shake your crush since.

You brought each other coffees on the daily and were always in and out of each other’s classrooms. He always made sure you were a chaperone on his field trips and you always made sure he was one on yours. He had even convinced you to let your classes come to band practice once a month so they could play music from the time period your classes were currently studying.

He was endearing and kind and charming and so so good with all the kids. He was also incredibly sexy, which made it even more difficult to control yourself around him. You had the fattest and most uncontrollable crush on him, but he was your friend and you didn’t want to ruin that.

The ring of the bell that signified the end of the class period brought you out of your Harry induced haze, waving goodbye to your students and shouting after them to do their homework and to stop kissing in the hallways. You stood against the door frame of your classroom and watched their little awkward bodies skurry towards their next class, but your attention was soon caught by the tall man who’s chocolate curls stuck out high above the sea of middle schoolers that surrounded him.

“Good morning, love. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he smiled wide, dimples appearing like they were inviting you to poke them, as he reached your classroom and your heart fluttered at his affectionate pet name.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry,” you beamed back at him, hoping he and the passing students didn’t pick up on the adoration that was becoming very hard for you to hide.

“Oi, stop that,” he called over your shoulder, slight disgust showing on his face. You turned around and were met by two kids sucking face behind you. “Guys, just go to class,” he exasperatedly sighed when he was met by their shocked and embarrassed faces. Once they were gone, the two of you descended into a fit of giggles.

“They have no shame!” you laughed.

“Absolutely none!”

“Why are you over here? Not that you aren't welcome, but don’t you have a class to teach?” you teased gently as students began to gradually fill up your own classroom.

“I thought I would stop by and wish you a happy love day.” He smiled wide at you and spoke sweetly. If you weren’t reading into it too closely, you thought he might even be blushing a bit. “And it’s okay,” he waved off his class, clearing his throat and his voice returning to normal. “They’ll survive a few minutes alone. I trust them.”

“You shouldn’t,” you giggled again.

“Yeah,” he nodded with a chuckle. “I probably should get back, but I wanted to invite you to come to my classroom and get some cookies whenever you get a chance today.”

You felt your heart soar at his invitation, no matter how friendly the proposal. “I am free next period.”

“I know,” he winked, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. “I will see you then,” he grinned as he began to walk backwards down the hallway, maintaining eye contact for as long as he could, before spinning down the hall just as the bell rang to start the next period.

You tried your best to focus on your lesson about the renaissance with your sixth graders, but your mind kept floating back to the delightful man who had invited you for cookies. 

Had he invited all of the teachers for cookies? Or did he ask just you? Was he just being nice? Or did he actually want to see you? Had he been flirting with you?

The lesson was interrupted when there was a knock on your classroom door. You opened it up to find one of your students, Matt, dressed in a giant heart costume holding baskets full of labelled chocolate bars.

“I’m here to give out Valentine’s Day candy grams, Miss Y/L/N!” Matt exclaimed, his face barely fitting into the far too large hole cut out for his face. Every year the student council set up a candy gram fundraiser and the kid in the suit never got any less cute. You let out a chuckle as you looked down at him, opening the door further and letting him into the room.

You watched with a smile as he called out students’ names and the genuine surprise and flattery that passed over their features. Cheeks turned red and shy smiles played on their lips as they made their way to the front of the room and retrieved their candy from the giant pink heart.

You were caught off guard when you heard your own name be called. Matt held out the meticulously wrapped pink candy bar out to you as the class let out an “ooh” and your cheeks heated with embarrassment. Your cheeks heated even further as you read the label.

To: Miss Y/L/N

From: Mr. Styles

Will you be my valentine?

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you had a very hard time holding back the large and toothy grin that wanted to appear in front of your students.

“Who is it from?” one of your students asked excitedly.

“I don’t ask who your Valentines are, do I?” you teased, but held the candy bar close to your chest over your heart. You could feel your heart racing underneath your hands.

The giant pink heart standing at the front of the classroom finished distributing his candy and your class led a chorus of goodbyes as he left the room, onto the next classroom to spread some more innocent young love. You impatiently watched the clock tick down the seconds until the bell rang and released both you and your students out into the school.

And just when it felt like it might never come, the bell rang through the school and your students were off into the chaos of a passing period. You followed closely behind after you gathered your things, the candy bar slid carefully into your bag. You flowed along with the flow of children that carried you down the hallway, heart racing as Harry’s classroom came into view, your feet quickly matching it’s tempo.

Your footsteps echoed on the tile in the acoustics of the large room, your voice bouncing off the walls as you said hello. He had been tuning a guitar when you came in, his attention flashing up from the instrument in his hands to you.

“I was promised cookies,” you teased him. “They better be good.”

“I promise they are. They’re my nan’s recipe.”

“Of course they’re your nan’s recipe,” you sighed with a chuckle.

“What’s so bad about using my nan’s recipe?” he asked incredulously, grinning as he settled the guitar back into its stand and moved towards you.

“Absolutely nothing,” you sighed adoringly. “I just think it’s very sweet.”

“You haven’t even tried them yet! You can’t say they’re too sweet.”

You couldn’t hold back the giant smile that was so wide it made your cheeks hurt, chuckling at his cheesy joke. He made you feel warm when he moved closer to you, like someone had just turned up the heat in the large room.

“I meant that you were sweet, silly,” you tried to joke, but it came out genuine and soft. You bit on your lip nervously, replaying the affectionate tone in your head over and over.

“Thank you, sweetie,” he smirked softly at the pet name and you felt like you were soaring.

He was close to you now, having crossed the room and standing only a few feet away from your body. You wanted to close the space between you two, to kiss him with all your might, to tell him you would love to be his valentine. But just as you built up the courage, he stepped away towards his desk, retrieving a cookie for both of you.

The cookies were shaped into small perfect hearts with a coarse pink sugar pressed into the soft biscuit. The cookie melted in your mouth and the sugar granules crunched between your teeth. You had to hold yourself back from releasing a moan at the taste. They were dainty and delicate and you could only imagine how much time he had put into them.

But you weren’t shocked. Harry was like that. He was gentle, taking care and measured precision with everything he did. He spoke to the kids with tender care, making them feel talented and successful, and was always there to lend a helping hand whenever one of them needed it. And he spoke to you the same way.

“Harry-” you began softly, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“-Yes, I would love to.”

“What?”

“I would love to be your valentine.”

Your heart jumped in your chest, flattered heat rushing to the surface of your cheeks, but you also looked at him with a slight confusion. He had asked you to be his valentine, hadn’t he?

As you looked at him in slight shock, you noticed the small and meticulously wrapped pink candy bar that sat on his desk. Oh my god, they didn’t, you thought.

You could only imagine the confusion that fell onto Harry’s features as you moved away from him and towards his desk, picking up the candy bar and reading the writing on the wrapper.

To: Mr. Styles

From: Miss Y/L/N

Will you be my valentine?

Oh my god, they did.

“Harry,” you chuckled, looking back towards him and holding the chocolate bar up. “When did you get this?”

“I got it this morning when the kids delivered it,” he said dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t send this.” You walked over to your bag that you had left near the door and retrieved your own matching candy bar. “And I’m assuming you didn’t send this either?”

You handed the pink package to him and he read the label closely, eyebrows furrowing even further, then relaxing as you watched the puzzle fall together in his head as it had in yours.

“The kids sent these to us from each other, didn’t they?”

“I believe they did, Mr. Styles,” you nodded.

His cheeks turned a bright red, embarrassment flooding his features. “I’m sorry about before then,” he stammered out. You watched the panic on his face as he searched for something to say that would cover his tracks, but you cut it off when you connected your lips to his.

His lips were soft and velvety and he tasted exactly like the sweet sugar cookie he had gifted you. Your lips moved gently over each other and you slid your hands up to play with the curls that rested at the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you as his hands found their spot on your hips. You couldn’t help the smiles that fought their way into the kiss and you broke apart moments later, both flushed and flustered, small giggles leaving both of you.

“I would love to be your valentine if you would have me,” you said breathlessly as you looked up to him.

“It’s all I could ask for.”

“This is the best Valentine’s Day ever,” you said softly against his lips, already pulling him back in for more.

“We’re just like the kids in the hallway.”

“They’re not too bad. I understand it now.”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!! :)

[harrieatthemet]

Mustache

He has never been keen on sharing. 

And Gemma’s mere existence, as well as the small indent on her left thumb she swears is a scar (though Harry vehemently denies it is), is living proof. 

Mr Ducky was his favorite bath time companion for a good bulk of his childhood. There were even times he’d carry it around with him in the house tied to a string like a pet, one of Anne’s fondest memories and favorite stories to tell whenever she found the opportunity. 

Maybe it was Gemma’s own fault; she was only six at the time and was foolishly under the impression that the stupid rubber toy was at anyone’s disposal, which is what led her to try and situate the duck in her backpack as she geared up for school. 

It’s also what led her to tears because Harry caught her on the way out the front door, Mr Ducky in tow, and he instinctively sunk his teeth right into the side of her hand in protest. And, okay fine, he may have bit down a little harder than he should have, but the overall message he was sending came across very clear. Gemma never touched anything he owned again for a very, very, long time; and eventually went on to tell everyone in her class she had a vampire as a brother. 

“What do we think of this little number,” your hip jut, innocent as it was, just now became a permanent memory in Harry’s brain, “too much, like.. revealing?”

You like nice in red; devilish, even, and in the best way possible. There’s nothing revealing about the dress at all. Somehow, though, he finds himself perched squeamishly at the foot of your bed in complete fucking anguish. In theory, no, the dress is not too much. It’s the perfect ensemble and flatters you so well he feels like whoever made the dress conjured it up with you specifically in mind. 

And no, it’s not too much, for literally anyone else except him. How is such a modest dress enough for him to think you up the way he is right now; bent over in front of him with your hair wrapped tightly up in his palm while that dress lays in a sloppy ball by his feet. 

“Would be nice with nude shoes,” he mules, “like, those sandals y’ave, yeah?” 

The way your eyes light up, that same way they always do when your mind starts to move at light’s speed as you start assembling a million different ideas into one, is enough to tug a grin onto his mouth. 

He didn’t really want to agree to this. When you texted first to ask he ignored it, that way you’d have just carried on without him and he could blame a busy schedule or an overrun nap on his delayed response time. It’s much easier to blame a missed text for no response. Of course it’s not in your nature to send a text, and he knew that already. So it came a son surprise when he was bombarded by 4 phone calls. By the fifth one he had picked up, succumbing to you and just the flat out unfulfilled urge he had to hear your voice at the other end of the phone.

“Seriously Harry,” your voice is like fucking honey, sweet and sullen like it always is, and he’s in euphoria listening to it as you poke your earring through the lobe of your left ear, “it’s just, y’know I don’t- I’m nervous and I appreciate you helping me do something as stupid as picking a dress.” 

“S’not stupid,” he reassures, “y’know I just like spending time with yeh, since y’so busy ’n stuff.”

Which is true. That’s the only thing that got him over here; and he rescheduled a zoom call just to sit in your bedroom for all of twenty minutes. Not one part of him regretted it, either.

“I’m busy?” You tease, “coming from the A lister who’s in London, than LA, than New York, London again, oh, than LA again oh, then ‘sorry love, m’in Tokyo.’”

Also true, he knows that, which is why he’s snickering at fault in response to your harmless teasing. He wouldn’t say it now, mainly because he doesn’t want to make it weird, but regardless of where he falls on the map he somehow still finds a way to fit you in. He’s never minded doing it, either. 

Twenty minutes isn’t enough. Maybe another twenty more could be a sufficient amount. That’s almost an hour, right? Forty minutes is almost a full hour with you and he’d love to get even that much. Or twenty more hours, even, would be that much better. It’s better for him to think of getting more time with you than to let his thoughts wander and remind him of where you’re getting ready to go off to. 

A date. It’s why he was so hesitant to come here. It’s hard enough as it is being a prisoner to his own thoughts, being around you and not getting to interact with you the way he actually wants; kiss you the way he wants, touch you the way he wants, hold you and talk to you the way he wants. Adding a new element to the mix, another man getting access to you the way he wants, well that’s just mental warfare. 

You don’t know anything about though. And thank God, because if you could get a peak into his thoughts and see just a preview of what he thinks he almost knows for sure you’d ice him out in a heartbeat. He’s got a soft spot for you, nonetheless, which is why he swallowed the massive-sized lump in his throat when you told him you needed help on an outfit for a date and b lined it over to your place.

“Who’s this guy, anyways.” He chimes, following you similar to that of a lost puppy as you start heading towards the staircase, “Like, wha’s he look like ’n stuff.”

Immediately after he asks he wishes he hadn’t. The way that pesky fucking lump reappears when you wiggle your eyebrows in response, stuffing your hand into your leather purse in an attempt to fish out your phone. A simple response like ‘handsome’ or ‘he’s a nice guy’ would’ve sufficed for him. Seriously, that’s all he needed. What he didn’t need was an entire fucking slideshow of an above average looking guy. And he had a cool mustache, to boot, which really pissed Harry off for some reason. 

“Should probably shave,” he squints his eyes at the photo you’ve got propped right in front of his face, trying his hardest to act like he isn’t so fucking jealous of that mustache, “kinda looks like a squirrel on his top lip."

“If I didn’t know you so well,” you tut teasingly, “I’d think you’re a dick.”

“You know me so well and still don’t think that?” 

He likes the way your laugh sounds, and it makes him happy that he said something amusing enough to drag it out of you. And the toothy smile you pair with it practically knocks the wind right out of him. Everything you do seems to wow him, corny as it sounds. It makes him feel so at ease, and the butterflies he gets each time gets him reminiscing to the days where he was just a kid and had the worlds biggest crush on the girl who sat three rows ahead of him in grade school. He’s giddy and he doesn’t want you to leave for this date. 

For a second he thinks about doing something elaborate; breaking his foot or faking an illness so that you literally have no choice but to hang back and look after him. That’s selfish though, and honestly just crazy and super fucked up, so he opts out of that. But he doesn’t want you to go so bad he seriously considers it, especially as you start sorting through the downstairs closet to find a coat that doesn’t clash with your shoes. 

He could just be honest. He could just tell you that he doesn’t want you to go, solely because he’s absolutely infatuated with you and for every hour he’s awake and functioning you manage to consume every thought he has. He could just be an adult and tell you he’s got feelings for you that very much surpass a platonic, friendly demeanor. That might be a better way into persuading you to stay back with him than breaking his fucking foot. 

“Ok now wait a minute,” he chokes, and there’s a painful twang that strikes his gut when you frown, “gotta tell y’somethin’.” 

“What,” you groan, and he swears he would rather die right now than do anything else, “it’s the shoes, right? They make my calves look like I’m a running back don’t they?” 

He wants to laugh but he thinks if he opens his mouth he would projectile vomit everywhere. But the thought occurs to him that if he does that than it would be an excellent excuse for you to skip the date. Though, of course, he runs the risk of grossing you out and absolutely humiliating himself all in one go of it. 

So he shakes his head no. In fact he loves the shoes, and they make your ankles look slender and really compliment your legs quite nicely. Still, he’s scrambling to string together a coherent sentence because his brain is working a lot faster than the muscles in his mouth are and it feels like someone just super glued his lips shut.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” you tease, and the cheeky wink you shoot him over your shoulder just edges him even more if that’s possible at this point, “Styles.”

“I don’t want y’to go on this date, (Y/N).” 

He’s well aware that he blurted that out in a way that he really, really, wish he hadn’t. Now the air in the room is stale and heavy, dense too, like someone just sucked all the air out and left the two of you here with nothing to inhale but words and unspecified tension. 

And he’s starting to get more anxious as your playful manner dissipates. He can tell your puzzled not just be the demeanor of your face, but by the stance of your body because your letting shoulders hang the way you do when you’re a little uncomfortable. 

“Oh,” you breath, and his chest starts sinking inward, “okay, I just- well why not? Do I not.. like, do I look bad or something?”

“No,” he coos, and he feels like the worlds biggest asshole when you start to frown, “No y’don’t- Christ, (Y/N) y’look amazing. Y’always look so fuckin’ amazing. It’s just-”

“What,” you huff, “than what is it, than? Why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

He’s really done it now. The proper thing to do would’ve just been to let you go, walk out with you and watch you drive off before he headed home himself. The proper thing to do would’ve been for him to just go home and think about you on a date with someone other than himself, curled up in a ball watching a Friends episode he’s already seen four times while he felt sorry for himself. But that’s not what happened, and what he should’ve done was just broke the fucking foot like he initially thought to do. That would’ve been less agonizing than this. 

“Because,” he’s frustrated now, not with you but really just himself, “I should be taking y’out. M’absolutely in love with yeh, (Y/N), and I don’t have a cool mustache but I could take y’out on a date, ’n I want to so bad.” 

There’s still that dense energy looming in the room, and his gut now too as he feels it winding up tightly in an anxious bundle of knots and twists. You’re not saying anything and the only thing he notices is that you’re breathing is vaguely staggered and your clutching onto that purse in your hand like he’s about to snatch it and run off. God, he should’ve just broken the foot!

“Please don’t go out wit him,” and now, his voice is small, “think it might kill me.”

[anabsolutetrainwreck]

through the warning signs || h. styles

warnings: a couple of swears, mentions of covid

word count: 3.1k

summary: you first met harry on the set of dunkirk, but now you’re reunited on the set of his new film...

Films had always fascinated you. The endless possibilities of art you could create, from the cinematography to the mise en scène, even to the sound, had always blown your mind. So, even from an early age, you always knew you wanted to get into filmmaking somehow. You were perhaps the worst actor to ever grace the planet, so acting was never an option for you. But alas, you studied film studies in school and went to university for the very same thing. At first, you’d considered becoming a cinematographer, but you realised you could entwine your love of film production and fashion. So, you found yourself as a costume designer.

In 2014, your dearest friend, Louisa, had dragged you to see Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar. She had an unhealthy obsession with Timothée Chalamet at the time, and had made you watch every single film he’d been in - big role or small. So, while Louisa was busy being in love with Timothée Chalamet, you were busy nursing an adoration for Christopher Nolan films. And then, in 2016, you found yourself in Dunkerque, France, working alongside Mr Nolan himself.

As well as being incredibly interested in films, you were also somewhat of a history buff in school. So, working on a film like Dunkirk alongside names like Kenneth Branagh and Cillian Murphy, was one of the most surreal first days on the job. Or, more notably, Harry Styles. Though Louisa was then going through her Tom Hardy phase, she was once a massive One Direction fan. And, though you never bothered to learn every last fact that was public knowledge about them, you could certainly appreciate their music.

As the weeks went on, you began to slip into place more. The more time that passed, the more you knew this was the career for you. And, you knew it wasn’t very professional, but you developed somewhat of a liking towards the singer. He was nice to you. But, then again, he was nice to everybody. It was just in his nature. You weren’t even sure he knew your name...

And then filming wrapped and you never saw him again. The pair of you had never exchanged numbers or followed each other on social media. And that was the end of that. And, after a month or so, your little crush on Harry died away. And, even when you went to the premiere, you only got a couple of glances at him.

In the three years since you last saw him, you’d never forgotten about him. It wasn’t exactly an easy feat forgetting about Harry Styles. But he had definitely been pushed to the back of your mind. Plenty of things had managed to take the front seat since then. You’d won an Oscar for Best Costume Design for your work on Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Little Women at the beginning of 2020, which was completely insane (Louisa was still more amazed by the fact that you got to work with Timothée Chalamet). The award sat on your mantelpiece in your London flat beside a picture of Louisa and yourself.

However, more recently, you’d taken a place on the crew of Olivia Wilde’s new film: Don’t Worry, Darling. You’d worked on Booksmart with her and she simply adored you. Before production had even begun, you could already tell you were going to love working on this film. It was a psychological thriller set in the 50s - you were in love already. Not only that, but it was starring one of your good friends you’d made in the industry: Florence Pugh.

This all seemed great, until you were notified that Harry Styles would be taking the place of Shia LaBeouf to play ‘Jack’. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t let yourself be caught up by his unintentional charm once again. So, on the first day of filming, you turned up in your puffer jacket (despite it being filmed in California).

You had already worked with Olivia before filming on the costumes, or at least a large bulk of them. It was an odd sort of dynamic; she wanted you to take control simply due to your brilliant eye for fashion, especially vintage fashion, and you wanted her to take control as it was her film. In the end, you managed to create a cooperative working environment.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t stalling as you were fixing up Florence’s costume. Harry’s needed doing next and you didn’t exactly want to face him. You’d tried desperately to stay out of Harry’s sight. And, so far, you’d been successful. When it came to measuring, you’d kindly asked one of your assistants to measure him (and she was more than happy to do so). But all your clever sneaking around was about to go down the drain. “You all right, Y/N?” Flo asked, noticing your shaky hands and your incessant fiddling.

You nodded quickly, “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I think you’re good to go.”

She smiled, “Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you too!” you grinned as you watched her jog away. She disappeared behind a couple of trailers. As you approached Harry, who was busy talking to a couple of other crew members, you tried to convince yourself that, if you kept your head down, there was no way Harry would attempt to make small talk as you fixed his costume. You’d have your mask on, so there was absolutely no way he’d recognise you. Besides, it had been four years since you filmed Dunkirk, he wouldn’t even remember you. As you neared Harry and one of the gaffers, you cleared your throat, “Do you mind if I steal Harry for a second?”

“Sure,” the gaffer nodded, turning to work on some of the lighting. Keeping your head down and your hands quick, you got to work on adjusting his tuxedo. Awkward was definitely an understatement. Or, it was for you, at least. In an odd sort of way, you were begging for him to make some sort of conversation to ease the sheer awkwardness, but you prayed he stayed silent at the same time. Alas, your prayers weren’t enough. “It’s Y/N, right?” his voice came, though slightly muffled by his mask, you made it out clearly.

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, adjusting his cuffs and trying your very hardest not to make eye contact with him.

“Congratulations on your Oscar,” was what he said next. “It was for Little Women, right?”

That got you to look up at him. Had he actually remembered your name all of four years or had he just recognised you when you made your acceptance speech at the Oscars? Maybe Florence had just mentioned your Oscar win earlier in the year, and that was how he knew. “Yeah, it was,” you replied. “Congratulations on your album.”

“Cheers,” he said. It was a good album - both of his were. Louisa had forced you to listen to his entire discography whenever you drove her around. Not that you were exactly complaining, you enjoyed Harry’s music. And, just as the awkwardness was beginning to pour back into the atmosphere, he added, “It’s no Oscar, though.”

“It was a bloody good album, though. It was nominated for a Brit too, wasn’t it?” you asked, vaguely remembering Louisa scream in your ear that Fine Line had been nominated for Best Album, or something along those lines.

He nodded, “Well, yeah.”

And, just like that, the conversation fizzled out into uneasy silence. You wanted to kick yourself for being such a shit conversationalist; there’s people who would kill to have a chat with Harry Styles. Yet, here you were, complimenting an album you weren’t even sure you could name all the songs on. Thankfully, the sound of Olivia’s voice caught your attention, “Y/N!”

The two of you turned to see her approaching quickly. She was waving two samples of fabric in front of you, “Oh, hi, Harry. Good thing you’re here, actually. Which of these were you thinking of for his other suit?”

You took both from her, inspecting them closely. One was a brown and the other was a blue, slightly lighter than a navy. “Well, I thought both would work. I mean, it’s up to you, but I think the brown contrasts with Florence’s costume better,” you replied. “But then I’ve got this lovely tie set aside for the blue. So, really it’s your decision.”

She hummed, agreeing with what you said, “I see what you mean. We could always use the blue for a different scene?”

You shrugged, nodding, “Yeah, I mean, the brown will definitely work better with Florence’s costume for those couple of scenes we’re shooting in Palm Springs. But, like I said, the blue is very fifties.”

She smiled, “Brilliant. I’ll sort out the brown, then.”

Quickly, you said, “No, it’s okay. I’ll sort it out when I’m finished with Harry.”

She thanked you as she left. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off you as you worked away, your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you sorted the hem of his trousers. And, thank God for the mandatory masks, as he couldn’t help the smile that danced across his lips. Then, in no time at all, Harry was snapped out of his small trance at the sound of your voice, “Right, you’re good to go.”

“Cheers, Y/N,” he smiled slightly, watching as you walked off towards one of your assistants. Sighing softly to himself, he left to find Florence.

The two weeks the entire cast and crew had off due to somebody testing positive for covid was a lovely break for you. As well as constant fear that they’d just call Don’t Worry, Darling off completely and you’d be out of work again. And the relentless guilt you felt for having to stay at Florence’s for the two weeks with her boyfriend because you didn’t have your own house in America, and you couldn’t fly back and forth between England and America. And the nights where you cried into Florence’s arms as you missed your family from back home. And the nights where you couldn’t sleep because you began to overthink things like if you’d locked your front door or turned the oven off. But, other than that, it’d been a smooth run.

But now you were back and in Palm Springs. And the sun was out and you were longing for a cold shower. You found yourself stood in front of Harry once more, trying to decide which tie would work best with his brown suit. He’d followed you on Instagram since your first interaction since Dunkirk, which received an onslaught of ecstatic texts from Louisa. But that was as far as it had ever gone. None of your conversations progressed past his costumes or anything work-related. And, when you first turned up on set on the very first day of production, that was what you’d wanted. But now you had to surround yourself with him everyday, you longed for him to ask about something other than the job. You wanted to discuss favourite novels and guilty pleasures and pet peeves and bad habits and embarrassing childhood stories with him. All these little things you wanted him to know about you.

Your mind was wandering and it took you a moment to realise that you weren’t even thinking about which tie worked best anymore. Your head was full of swirling fantasies that you knew would never come to be.

Harry, however, didn’t notice your zoned out expression either. He was too busy trying to figure out whether you were single due to the shirt you were wearing, which hung much too large on your frame. And the feeling of knowing there was a possibility that you were living a happy life with somebody else was beginning to rip him up inside. He was trying to remember if you’d thanked a boyfriend in your acceptance speech at the Oscars, but that all seemed so long ago now - he couldn’t possibly remember. So, in spite of himself, he asked, “Missing your boyfriend, then?”

You looked up at him, your hands dropping down to your sides. “What?”

“Your boyfriend - are you missing him?” Harry repeated, a small smile on his face to make his tone sound slightly less bitter.

“Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend,” you replied, finally settling on a tie.

“You don’t? I just figured, you know, with the shirt...” he trailed off, prompting you to elaborate.

You chuckled awkwardly, “Right, of course. I only do it to make myself appear less single.”

He laughed, but it was mainly out of relief. It wasn’t like he’d forgotten about you from the set of his first movie, you just hadn’t been on his mind for the four years following. But then he’d turned up on the first day of filming, seen you laughing with Florence and Olivia, and everything just came rushing back to him. All of the pent up feelings and the nights pondering all of the what ifs and the maybes. “Well, you fooled me,” he smiled.

“Just my ingenious plans working, as usual,” you joked, earning a small laugh from Harry.

As you finished wrapping the tie around Harry’s shirt collar, you informed him you were finished. He thanked you and left to get his hair and makeup done. You practically jumped out of your skin at the sound of Florence’s voice behind you, “I’m pretty sure if he asks you about your love life, it means he likes you.”

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed, hitting Flo’s shoulder with the tie you opted not to use.

She laughed loudly, “You know I’m right!”

“He’s just making small talk.”

“No, Y/N, small talk is how nice the weather is, not ‘oh, are you single?’”

“Okay, firstly, he didn’t say that. Secondly, it’s California - it’s always nice weather,” you retorted. As much as you fought back, you quite liked the idea that Florence thought Harry liked you.

“You know what I mean!” she replied, grinning her infamous broad, cheeky smile. “Don’t even try and act like you wouldn’t mind if he liked you!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said sheepishly, a small smile gracing your features. As aforementioned - you were perhaps the worst actor to grace the planet.

“I knew it!” she grinned excitedly.

“Don’t you have hair to be done?” you chuckled, pushing her towards where she needed to go to get her hair styled for the shoot.

“This isn’t over, Y/N!” she called back as she slowly disappeared.

The following day, as you were patching up one of Chris Pine’s suits, Florence came and sat down opposite you. She had one of those devious smirks on her face and you knew that couldn’t mean anything good. You placed your needle down, staring expectantly at her. “How can I be of assistance?” you asked skeptically.

“Well, as your dear friend, I thought it was my duty to report back to you. So, I’d like to tell you that our good pal Harry was asking about you,” she grinned.

You sighed, “Was he? And what was he asking?”

“Something about if you have any allergies,” she replied.

“Wow,” you laughed, “must be hopelessly in love with me then.”

“No, listen. He asked about your allergies and then he asked what kind of food you liked. So, my guess is he’s going to ask you to dinner.”

“We’ll see,” you said, offering her a smile in the hopes that she’d just drop it.

“Indeed we will. I’ll see you in a bit, Y/N,” she grinned, pinching your cheeks as she got up. “Love you!”

You chuckled, “Love you too!”

And, just like that, you were left to your own devices. Though your flow had been disrupted, you got back to stitching up Chris’ suit, which had a minor tear in the lapel. Working on a film set, you were used to being interrupted; people would come and go, asking you all sorts of questions. You always found it pretty easy to get back into your rhythm. However, when Harry came and took the place of Florence, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to get back into your desired flow easily. “Oh, hey, Harry,” you greeted. “Are you okay?”

He nodded quickly. He wasn’t hiding his nervous shifting very well - despite how good of an actor he may be. He fiddled with his fingers, which lay in his lap. They were lacking the many, expensive-looking rings they usually adorned. He was out of costume, instead dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His hair wasn’t slicked back and full of gel like it usually was on set. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay,” he said, rather unconvincingly.

His eyes followed your fingers as they gripped the little needle, weaving it in and out of one of suit’s lapels. Another wave of awkwardness washed over the pair. But, for once, you didn’t feel uncomfortable. You weren’t the one who came over to start the conversation. “Are you busy tonight?” he suddenly asked, his voice almost shaky.

“Uh, no. Not if I can get this lapel finished,” you replied, your tone joking. Your eyes were still trained on your needle, but your mind was most definitely concentrating on every last syllable that fell from Harry’s lips.

He let out an awkward, breathy chuckle, “Right. Um, well, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to grab something to eat?”

You couldn’t help the tiny grin that pulled at the corner of your lips, “I’d love to.”

This was what you felt you’d been waiting for for a good four years. And, thank God, Florence had warned you that she suspected Harry was thinking of asking you out, otherwise you weren’t sure you’d be able to get out any comprehensible words. “Great,” he grinned, whatever nervousness that had been racing through his veins seemed to slowly drown away. “I’ll see you tonight, then. At 6?”

You nodded, overwhelmed with serotonin, trying to suppress the urge to let out a loud squeal. You knew you’d get back to Florence’s, share a glass of predate wine with her and dance about happily in her kitchen. All of these marvellous emotions swept through your body, which was abuzz with electric euphoria. And yet, all you replied was, with a small smile, “At 6.”

part two.

[mandoalorian]

People Can See [Maxwell Lord x F! Reader] SMUT

Request by @luvzoria​: hey sweetpea! i have a req! you obviously don't have to do this but it's my birthday today and it gave me the idea of surprise sex? with any pedro character (personal favs tho : max lord, pero tovar, frankie, marcus moreno, and javier peña)surprise birthday sex 👀 in a risky public place maybe? public teasing? if you're okay with that!! again thanks hun!!

Rating: 18+

Warnings: SMUT— unprotected p in v, public sex, exhibitionism, creampie, Max has a daddy kink, a lot of teasing, fingering, and also mention of food.

Word count: 2.6k words

Authors note: Happy birthday lovey!​ Michelle, I'm sorry this is a few days late but this is for you angel! I hope it's okay and I hope you had a fab day all things considered. I send you all my love. Xx 

Masterlist

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," the guests at your annual birthday gala hummed in unison as your favourite chef brought over your cake. Courtesy of your boyfriend Maxwell, it was a three tier chocolate cake with vanilla frosting and your name delicately placed on top in intricately detailed fondant.

"Maxie," you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes. You placed your hand on your boyfriend's thigh, rubbing it under the table. "This is too much. You shouldn't have." 

"Anything for you, my princess," he whispered, his warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear. Leaning in further, he pressed a kiss into your lobe, before giving it a small and teasing kitten lick. You grabbed his thigh even harder, your fingernails digging into his skin and giggled at your gesture. When he pulled away, he quirked an inquisitive eyebrow, as if to ask why are you giggling? He knew fine well. "Make a wish." he mumbled as he interlocked his fingers with yours.

There was no way you could possibly wish for anything. Dating Maxwell Lord meant that you could never want for nothing. He provided you with a beautiful home, lavish and luxurious clothes and jewellery, but most importantly he provided you with his love and warmth. You closed your eyes and wished that this happiness would last forever. There was no place you'd rather be, surrounded by your family and friends on your birthday— but most importantly, with Maxwell, the love of your life.

"You kept teasing me at the table." you muttered with a joking roll of your eyes. You and Maxwell were walking along the table filled with little bites to eat. Picking at the finger food, you both filled up your plates.

"Now sweetheart, you know that wasn't teasing," he chastised with a smirk. You nodded, knowing that he could do much worse. "Teasing could be you rubbing my thigh all night, huh? Did you think about that?"

As a matter of fact you had. Maxwell looked so handsome in his three piece tuxedo. The black pants and matching Armani jacket with the white button down suited him so well, but it didn't change the fact you desperately wanted to peel off that bow tie and have him gag you with it. You supposed it could wait until you got back to your hotel suite. You didn't answer, picking up a small item of food and shoving it into his mouth. He took it willingly, but stopped to wrap his lips around your finger, sucking teasingly.

"Maxie," you groaned wantonly. "People might see." He pulled off you with a pop.

"Let them watch." he shrugged casually before picking up another piece of food to go onto his plate.

Your birthday gala was a massive success, but you had no doubt it would be. Maxwell was always the best at hosting events. Your favourite part of the night was when he held you in your arms and you slow-danced to Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis, which was one of Max's all time favourites. You rested your head into your boyfriend's chest as his arms held your waist, swinging your hips in time with the music.

"You look absolutely stunning in that dress," Maxwell growled in your ear. You recognised that lilt in his voice immediately. Leaning back, you caught a glimpse of that primal look on his face, as well as a glint of lust in his already darkened eyes. "So glad to call you mine."

His hand maneuvered round to the curve of your ass and you felt your cheeks begin to heat up as you slowly looked around the ballroom, hoping nobody had noticed Maxwell's sudden onset affection. Thankfully, they hadn't. Other couples were too busy gazing into one another's eyes, or feasting upon the buffet on the other side of the room. In a crowded room, all Maxwell could focus on was you, his drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend.

"I love you." you confessed with a happy hum.

"I love you too darling." 

The night was still young but it seemed most people had taken a break from dancing, filing back to their tables to chat some more. You were making your way around all the different tables, wanting to make sure to speak to everyone and thank them for coming and bringing gifts. You slid into an unoccupied seat at the Black Gold Cooperative table, a huge smile on your face as you began talking to your old colleagues, and Max's employees.

Max approached you, holding a tired Alistair in his arms. Alistair, his son, was hugging one of your balloons tight to his chest as he fell in and out of sleep. "I'm gonna take Alistair back to our hotel room, he's exhausted," Maxwell announced and you nodded in affirmation before gently pressing a kiss into Alistair's forehead. "I won't be long." he promised before walking away.

"Mr Lord is so sweet for doing all of this for you," Raquel, Maxwell's assistant gushed.

"You know you can call him Max when he's not here." you giggled and Raquel blushed.

"Well I remember when Mr Lor- I mean Max first met you. He changed almost instantaneously. Less miserable, more polite. We all think you made him into a better person." Raquel revealed.

"Really?" you questioned, your eyes going wide at her revelation. The rest of the table nodded their heads in unison, confirming your question.

When Maxwell returned, his bow tie was slightly wonky and his hair had fallen out of it's style. You tucked a loose strand back into place. "You okay?" you pouted, letting your fingers trace the buttons on his shirt. You pulled out a chair next to you so he could sit down at the table.

"Yeah, Alistair couldn't settle so I had to sing to him," he frowned. "You should've been there," he chastised you teasingly. "You're usually the one who sings him lullabies."

You giggled, resting your head on Maxwell's shoulder. "You're such a good daddy."

Daddy— it was the word that set a fire in Maxwell's stomach and you knew it. Everytime you said it, you said it deliberately. You said it to gain a reaction out of him. You felt his body stiffen up and you watched as his hand slowly glide over his crotch, covering his hardening cock. It was crazy how just one word spoken by you could get him going. The rest of the table cooed and awed in delight at how sweet you both were, but even Max knew that your intentions were far beyond sweet. He'd been teasing you all night at your own birthday party, but two can play at that game.

Maxwell stayed silent for the next few minutes as you laughed and joked with your friends, telling them about how brilliant your birthday had been. He fidgeted awkwardly, his dark eyes watching you intently as you took small sips of your champagne and fumbled with the gold rings adorning your fingers. You were truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He didn't know how he had gotten so lucky.

When you were deep enough into conversation with Raquel about the brand new 1984 Polaroid camera Maxwell had gotten you, he took his chance to slide his hand up the hem of your dress. He peeled back the thin glittering sheath and drew small circles into the inside of your thigh. His actions almost took your breath away but you kept your cool, acting unfazed, like it wasn't even bothering you.

It would be okay. His hand was under the table cloth and nobody could see anyway. If he just wanted to stroke the soft skin of your legs, that was fine too. As long as you acted normal, pretending like your boyfriend wasn't touching you in front of all these people. You were doing a good job of seeming unbothered, it actually irked Max. He was doing all of this to see your reaction. He maneuvered his large, ring clad hand to the apex of your thigh, rolling the pads of his middle finger and index finger along your slick wet folds. You were evil for not wearing panties tonight. He couldn't believe how soaked you already were from just the slightest of touches, but, to be fair, you two had been teasing each other all night. His finger inched up to your clit and he began to swirl it around in tight circles.

The gasp you let out was almost inhumane and you felt your cheeks heat up. Maxwell kept working at you, trying to hide the smirk that graced his lips.

"Are you okay?" Raquel asked inquisitively.

Before you could even reply, Maxwell slid one thick finger into your aching core, doubling down until you felt his knuckles against your skin. "Y-yes," you choked out, reaching for your glass of champagne. "Think I just need a drink."

Your boyfriend continued to pump his finger in and out of you whilst sitting at the same table as his own employees. You kept taking sips of your drink to try and hide the longing moans that escaped your lips as he stretched you out. You felt wonderful around him, and he couldn't help but slip a second finger in. You made a fist, bunching up the material of your dress in your hand. When you began to feel your walls flutter around him, you knew your orgasm was approaching and that you wouldn't be able to stay quiet for him. You grabbed his wrist and shot him a knowing look. Slowly, he removed his finger from your core and you groaned at the loss of his fullness.

"Want more?" he whispered into your ear. You nodded quickly and he took your hand, whisking you away from the table and into a dark corner.

You began to palm at him through his pants, already eagerly trying to tug off his tuxedo jacket and pull off his bow tie. "C-can we go to the hotel room?" you asked, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. You pushed your body against his as his hands stroked your bare arms, relishing the moment.

"Oh honey, but Alistair's up there sleeping," Max cooed, shaking his head. You furrowed your eyebrows together in disdain.

"Maxieee," you groaned, pressing your thighs together. "But I need you."

The three words made Maxwell's cock twitch. He needed you too. He could already feel his precum begin to leak out from the tip of his manhood, staining his underwear. He looked around the ballroom. Everyone was too busy dancing and talking to notice you and Max had even left the scene. "Do you think they can see us?" he asked quizzically, his voice low as he brought his hand to your breast. He began to massage it through the thin material of your dress, giving it the occasional squeeze.

You contemplated his words. You were under a canopy, in the shadows. They probably wouldn't be able to see you from where they were standing, but if anyone approached this area, you'd soon become visible. "Right now? No, I don't think so." you hummed, weighing the scenario out in your mind. Max nodded his head in agreement before bringing his hand to your face. Under the dim light, his fingers still shone with your arousal, from when he had fingered you under the table earlier.

He brought his index finger to your lips, tracing them gently before pushing it into your mouth. You whimpered, sucking on his finger (just like he'd done to you earlier), and lapping up all your juices. Your bodies were pressed together and you began to run your knee over his erection, earning a few strangled moans from Max. "Now now Maxie, what are we going to do about this?" you hummed around his finger before he eventually pulled it away from you.

He looked around the ballroom once more, astonished that it had been a few minutes and no one had yet to see you both. He placed his hands on your hips and pressed you against the wall, unzipping his pants and pulling them down to his knees, along with his black pair of boxers. Your eyes widened when you saw how hard he already was for you, how desperate his thick cock was for your pretty little cunt. You dropped your hands to the base of his manhood and gave it a small stroke.

"Ngh— no," Max shook his head as he choked out a groan. "Just need to be inside of you." he confessed.

He pulled up your dress so it was bunched around your waist and propped up one of your legs, wrapping it around him. He pressed the blunt head of his cock against your entrance and you gasped wantonly, spreading yourself as open as you could and running your fingers through his hair.

"People might see." you whispered, grinding your pussy along his cock in desperation. He kept nudging himself against you, teasing, as always.

"You're so fucking hot," Maxwell whispered, gently pushing himself into you. His hand snapped up to your mouth, trying to silence your moans of pleasure as his thickness stretched you open. "You're so tight for me, aren't you princess?"

You couldn't even reply, and instead just nodded as the lust clouded your every thought. He doubled back before pushing himself completely into you, enjoying the way felt around his manhood. He couldn't believe how lucky he was, having you all to himself, not having to share you with anyway. He couldn't believe was fucking you in front of hundreds of guests at your own birthday gala— and you were letting him. "You- fuck, you take me so well." he praised.

"Oh Max, I don't think I'm gonna last long." you admitted, digging your fingernails into his dress shirt as he increased his speed. He was hitting that sweet spot inside of you everytime. 

"I'm gonna make you cum at your own birthday party," he announced with a low, gravely chuckle. "Gonna cum around daddy's cock, aren't you princess?"

"Mm, yes daddy. Please let me cum on your cock— ah!"

You bit down on his shoulder as his hips snapped into yours and you felt your climax undo, nothing but pure satisfaction washing over you. As Max felt you quiver around him, it spurred him over the edge and he spilt ropes of his seed inside of you, painting your pretty walls.

You stayed there for a few moments, against the wall, both heaving and panting, until Max's cock eventually softened and fell out of you. He sighed, carefully dropping you back to the ground and tucking himself back into his pants. You smoothed out his hair and he used his thumb to swipe away any of your smudged makeup.

"Happy birthday princess," he mumbled, pressing a sweet kiss into your lips. "Are you ready to go back to the party?"

You nodded happily, kissing him back. "I am. I love you so much."

Maxwell took your hand and held you close, the both of you heading back into the light and walking over to the dance floor. "I love you too." he revealed as he wrapped his hands around your waist and began to slow dance with you again.

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Max Lord: @mrschiltoncat​

[jarofstyles]

SK8ER BOI - Kickflip

A/N: Here is the first installment our take on bad boy harry! It gets into things pretty quick but there is lots of content to come. Skater boy Harry is essentially what you wish every boy with a nicotine addiction was like featuring Timothée Chalamet as the uninterested boyfriend 🤭 We had a lot of fun writing this story so we hope you enjoy! - n+d

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, cheating

word count: 8.5k

Y/N was just an average girl. 

Though some could say she tread on the nerdier side of things, she was neither here nor there as far as social groups at school. No one really bullied her, she sort of just kept to herself and did her work and that was all she needed to get by. Her parents were middle class, working average jobs, and Y/N would likely follow suit. She really wasn’t sure what she wanted to do just yet. Everything was fine in her life, except for the fact that her boyfriend of three years refused to touch her. It was a shame really. She had grown a really strong attachment to him and they used to hang out all the time, but as they got older it seemed like he wanted less and less to do with her. His status as student body president definitely helped her out and well... Everyone had a crush on Timothée. She really wanted to explore with him, wanted to pleasure him and vice versa, bond in a way so many others described. But she just boiled it down to her not being sexy enough for him. She saw the browser history on his computer when he left it out in his bed while showering. He didn’t even try to hide it. Y/N, couldn’t say she didn’t have fantasies about one particular bad boy. Harry. 

Harry was in fact, that skater boy. That one guy that rode his board out of school— until he had gotten his car. He still rode it around the school campus, not at all hiding it. Even at the age of 17, he had gotten tattoos. His parents were wicked cool. They didn’t mind him doing whatever as long as he did well in school, and attended functions like family parties and whatever. They were close, anyways. His father was a well known quantum physicist and his mum, a romance novel author. His group of friends called his home their main hang out area. He had a good head on his shoulder despite what his look may say. He knew people would definitely be judging him and truth be told, he didn’t much care. He was more into what he was working towards versus what high school champs had to say. 

Harry was intrigued when Mr. Beck partnered him with Y/N for a science project, though. She was a very good girl. Known for good grades and dating that class president dude, Timothée. He was pretty sure the dude was 100% gay or at least bi based on the subtle flirting he had initiated with Harry until a few years back when he decided to date Y/N. In his opinion, it was a waste because whenever he saw them, there was no passion. Y/N was hot as fuck— you’d have to be blind to not see it. But he didn’t know what went on behind the scenes. He wasn’t close with her but she seemed chill enough, so he didn’t mind when she was partnered with him. 

“Hey. Come in.” He said politely as he answered the door for Y/N, holding it open and taking her bag. He could hear the little jingle of bells on collars and realized he hadn’t warned her. “Uh— we have a bunch of cats. Is that cool? Or do we need to leave? Sorry, I didn’t think to ask if you were allergic or something.”

“Hi.” Y/N squeaked out, taking a step inside and thanking him for taking her bag. His house was massive! You’d never be able to tell he had a house like this just by looking at him, but the address clearly stated it was his so she didn’t bother leaving and looking for another. The first thing she noticed besides the beautiful interior of the house was the sound of little bells. Y/N turned her head to see about four cats coming towards her and her heart melted. “Oh my goodness! I didn’t know you had kitties!” She quickly dropped down to her knees to greet them, “hi little angels!” She cooed, sticking her hand out for each of them to have a sniff and see if they liked her or not before she went to pet them. She looked up at Harry with a bright smile, “Sorry, my parents never let me have pets after my bunny died in 4th grade because they didn’t want me to go through that emotional trauma again.” She knew it was a bit of an overshare, but that’s just the kind of person she was. Harry looked extremely attractive from this angle, ideas swirling around in her mind about all the things she could do with him. Y/N stood up again, fixing her little overalls before pulling off her shoes and leaving them by the door. She didn’t want to get a nice house like this all messy. She walked up to Harry again, expecting him to lead her towards his room or wherever they wanted to work.

Harry was impressed. All the cats seemed to like her, including Grumpy. He was named that for a reason. His smush face and grumpy look were warnings for how he really didn’t like anyone but Harry and his parents. But he was rubbing against Y/N’s hand and then her leg with a purr. 

“Oh. I’m sorry about your rabbit. It always sucks when they die.” Harry said softly. He wasn’t sure why she told him, but it did make him sad to hear it. He lost a cat a few months back and it did hurt. There was definite emotional trauma in it. “They like you. That’s cool. They’ll probably follow us up. Are you cool with going to my room? That’s where my computer is.” He hadn’t brought it down but his room was his preferred study space. He also didn’t want her to think he was some creep so gave her the option, which she nodded to. “It’s at the top, the attic space so prepare for some steps.” He said sheepishly, picking up her bag again so he could carry it up. “Oof. Are there bricks in ‘ere?” He was teasing.

“I don’t mind.” Y/N felt good about the fact that his cats liked her, she was rather fond of them already so she didn’t mind them coming upstairs with them. She felt herself get all nervous because well... she would be going to Harry’s room. He probably had no idea about the filthy thoughts she had about him, even just watching him walk up the stairs was hot. “No! Just my laptop and notebook... maybe a pencil case... and a water bottle.” Y/N defended, feeling her face get all blushy because she did realize there was quite a lot of stuff in her bag. However, walking up the stairs wasn’t all too difficult. They were perfectly spaced out which was nice, all of the decor in the house was beautiful but still very cozy. The house was definitely lived in. 

His room though? Goodness. 

“Wow...” Y/N mumbled as she stepped up inside. It was amazing. The walls were white but he had a theme of wood and navy, some vintage looking items here and there. Overall she noticed his little reading nook and what seemed to be an astronomy section with bean bags and a telescope. He even had a mini fridge in there and a cupboard... even a microwave! It was a whole little man cave. 

“Yeah, s’nice. It’s my own little place.” He smiled at her reaction, putting her bag down on his bed as he grabbed his laptop and unplugged it from the charger. “Want a water?” He didn’t listen for an answer, rather grabbed her one and handed it to her. His mum had raised him to always give company a drink. “We can work on my bed. The cats will probably come in here and pretend they aren’t looking for attention when they are.” He smirked, going over to his bed and sitting against the headboard like area. She looked shy so he tilted his head, patting the blanket. “C’mon then. Don’t be shy. This isn’t your first time in a boys room, is it?” He couldn’t imagine that Timothée was dating a hot bitch like Y/N and not be tapping it. If she didn’t have a boyfriend he would be trying to get her to know better because she really was gorgeous. But they’d been dating too long and Y/N probably wouldn’t go for that.

Y/N knew that her blush gave away her answer as she went to sit on his bed, not quite next to him though. She was a bit too nervous for that. In her mind she was already sitting on Harry’s lap with his hands gripping at her ass, his perfectly plump lips slotted between her own. Y/N shook her own thoughts out of her head but felt like she needed to answer his question. 

“Maybe it is...” She mumbled, pulling her laptop out of her bag and turning it on. It suddenly got very hot in his room and not just because they were in the attic. Y/N was burning up, his eyes were very obviously on her and she knew he’d ask and she’d definitely confess to him. She’d do anything Harry wanted her to do really, fuck. She just wanted to be touched. Seeing the look of shock and confusion prompted her to explain further despite how anxiety provoking it might have been. “Timmy and I don’t—” Y/N started, looking away feeling all embarrassed. “He won’t...” She couldn’t even say it, she was just that shy and embarrassed.

Oh. Wow. He didn’t.... he didn’t fuck her? Harry thought.

“You’re kidding?” He raised a brow. He understood what she meant. It went from zero to a hundred real quickly but he couldn’t say he was angry about it. He just didn’t understand why. 

Y/N’s face grew incredibly hot, looking up at Harry with a serious but semi spooked expression when he asked if she was kidding. She absolutely wasn’t kidding. If she was kidding she wouldn’t be so damn horny and ravenous. She felt like she could burst all the time, touch starved beyond belief. Sure, he’d kiss her, but never anything too passionate. It would always make him uncomfortable the second they got too hot. 

“How come you’re tellin’ me this? I mean... it’s fine you do, I won’t say shit but, we barely know each other.” He questioned, putting an arm behind his head as he looked expectantly at her for an answer. She was hot. Sexy as fuck, had that innocent good girl appeal and he loved that shit, personally. Timmy. God, the least sexy name to moan in bed. Really. He could only think about the fairy godparents cartoon. Ick. He was surprised though. “You’ve been dating for years, haven’t you?” It definitely wasn’t a Y/N problem. She was blurting things out so if she wanted to, she would have told him.

Y/N’s mouth went dry because well, she had an answer for him, she just wasn’t sure how he’d react. “cause... I know you enough to know you make me really nervous, especially right now.” Y/N was really bad at being sexy, her delivery and flirting was horrible but she hoped he picked up what she was putting down. “Yeah... we’ve been together for three years.” Y/N explained, letting out a deep breath. “It wasn’t so bad at first, but I just—” She was horny. She was so fucking horny it was ridiculous. She’d probably moan if they held hands at this point. “I’ve tried, but he’s not into it I guess.”

Harry could tell she was horny. He could feel it. He just knew. Looking at her, she was a bit antsy. Not able to sit still but most importantly, squeezing her thighs together. No way. She was horny and maybe partly because of him? 

“Not into it? That’s some bullshit.” Harry scoffed. “Not to be weird, but you’re hot as fuck. If he’s not into it he might be gay or is just blind.” He didn’t want to offend her but he had a feeling it was the first. Either way, there had to be a reason for him not wanting to eat the girl alive. Harry had definitely noticed Y/N before. She was cute, kind, had his favorite type of body, and had pretty, full lips. Also, a very cute laugh. She was innocent and he liked that type of vibe. Maybe it was a bit fucked to be aroused by that but hey, he was a teenage boy as well. “Don’t have to be nervous, babe. I don’t bite. Unless asked.” He gave her another smirk. Her blush was cute and her flush reminded him again at how easy it was to work her up. They’d begun working but Harry still had a question of two, and he could feel her hormones— he swore he could. The poor thing. 

Well. There it goes. 

The guy Y/N had been having sexual fantasies about for years calling her hot? Of course she wouldn’t be able to calm down now. Her face hadn’t cooled off, he didn’t really give her a chance to either. She just pulled her hair up into a bun but it didn’t help. Poor girl, you could see it on her neck too. She was just nervous and embarrassed and horny. So so horny. Timmy being gay though? It could be a solid explanation for why he didn’t want to touch her. It’s not like he looked at other girls, he always called her pretty and complimented her looks. Was always okay with cuddling and other platonic stuff.. maybe the kissing was just him trying to make it seem believable. Harry was always around though, sometimes she’d just imagine it was his hair she was carding through, that it was his jaw she was cupping instead of Timmy’s. She loved Timmy, she did, but she wasn’t sexually attracted to him. She tried to be, wanted to be, if he reciprocated maybe she would be? But even having Harry next to her was turning her on. Even hearing him say he didn’t bite unless asked? She could have died, swore she let out a whimper when she shifted. 

“Has he touched you at all?” Harry questioned.

“No, just kissed but like.. nothing crazy.”

“Seriously? He’s holdin’  out on you like that? That’s not fair.” Harry muttered. Fucking crazy. The fact that the guy got one of the hottest girls in school and refused to do anything with her when it was blatantly obvious that she needed a good dicking, more than anything? Negligent, at best. “You said you tried and he’s not into it... what did you try? Was it something weird or just asking?” He was trying to figure this out. “You don’t have to tell me and it’s none of my business but, m’just curious.” He was curious if she was hinting towards Harry taking care of it. Which he would happily do. The poor thing looked like she needed an orgasm more than anything else. He wouldn’t be opposed to a good make out session and finger fuck.

Y/N was surprised by how genuinely shocked he was that nothing was happening between her and Timmy. It made those butterflies spring up in her stomach and go haywire, his tone was suggesting he was curious which was good of course. If he thought she was attractive then... surely she wasn’t the problem. 

“I um...” Y/N was so nervous talking about this stuff, it really wasn’t like her at all. Hearing her say these things out loud made her physically cringe but he did ask. He couldn’t read her mind, could he? “Anytime I’d try to like... grind on him when we kiss and stuff, he’d just stop it.” She explained, feeling her cheeks get all boiling hot again. She regretted wearing a sweater. “I haven’t brought it up to him or anything cause I don’t want him to feel bad.” Y/N was still a sweetheart, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings or make him feel inadequate. She’d been with him for three years, that was quite the long time.

“Jesus. That is either some good control or he can’t get hard. If he can’t, he's definitely not straight, babe.” Harry could be positive about that. Any straight man would be like an eager puppy to get between her legs. Harry included, if that was offered up. “M’sorry. That sucks. So you’ve been sexually frustrated for 3 years then?” He shook his head. “Not to be a dick, but how come you haven’t broken up with him yet? He isn’t meeting your needs. Any good man takes care of their girl. It’s just... how it should be.” Harry couldn’t believe this. “Trust me, you’re hot as fuck. Again, sorry if this is crude but— you’ve got the perfect thighs and probably a gorgeous pussy. Can’t imagine a man not wanting to get his mouth or hands on it. Or your tits. M’sure you’re told that often.” Maybe his vulgar speech would deter her but he had a feeling she would love it.

If someone told Y/N she’d be sitting on a bed with her crush while he told her that she had great thighs, tits, and assumed she had a gorgeous pussy, she would have laughed in their face. Harry looked completely serious too, his own eyes had grown dark and Y/N just felt stuck in shock. 

“Yeah..” She squeaked, swallowing thickly as she tried to focus back on the project but she was just staring at the screen. “He’s my best friend.. I care about him and he’s been there for me through a lot I— I couldn’t just do that.” She didn’t have the heart to break up with him. She needed a proper reason, just so she could feel guilt free. Y/N couldn’t just ask him to help her out could she? He had expressed to her how he felt like any good man took care of their girl's needs and well... she wasn’t his girl but oh did she want to be. As far as Y/N knew, he had slept around quite a lot. He thought she was attractive but he probably thought many girls were attractive. Maybe he’d just fuck anything? 

But she’d been thinking about him for so long.

Harry knew that she was avoiding looking at him because she was aroused by his words. She liked what he had to say and how he said it. It was obvious by her reaction. Which did make him smile a bit. She was flushed and biting her lower lip and he wanted to see just how flustered he could get her. 

“I get that. But how great is he if he’s not taking care of a need you obviously are being deprived of.” Harry muttered. Little French shit. He could fight him for that alone. “Are you horny, Y/N?” He asked. His body shifted so he was properly facing her, closer than before.

She really thought she’d be able to hold it together, but when he asked her flat out if she was horny she knew she couldn’t lie anymore. Y/N has fully shown up to do work and now it was looking like she was going to get an orgasm too? That seemed fake, there’s no way. But he had shifted a bit closer to her, completely forgetting about his laptop. Her eyes snapped to look up at him, swallowing thickly before looking back at her laptop. 

“Maybe.” She offered up shyly. She kept glancing up at him and looking away. She was just that nervous. Y/N couldn’t even pretend she felt bad for liking it either. It wasn’t like she hadn’t given Timmy an option, she was positive he probably would be upset... maybe he would be, but— she couldn’t pass this up, she’d been thinking about it for so long.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” Harry couldn’t pass this opportunity up either. Especially because it was a dream. Y/N was exactly his type and he liked her energy. She wasn’t being treated properly by her boyfriend and that wasn’t okay in his book. He knew she would say yes but the whimper made his stomach clench. She was desperate for it. The look on her eyes showed it. His hand came up to feel her face, immediately feeling her cheek lean into his touch. 

“Poor girl. Have been left to fend for yourself for a while. S’not fair to you. Not at all.” He sighed, truly in awe of how any man could let a wet cunt and a woman eager to use it up. “What would you like me to do?” He wanted to coax something out of her. “How worked up are you?”

Y/N’s heart dropped so far it probably fell out of her ass. Hearing him offer to take care of her sent her into a fit of emotions. Her eyes got all floaty, her cunt creating a second heartbeat, her body was naturally leaning towards his and she could have sworn she was dreaming at this point because it was all too good. Of course she agreed, closing her laptop and casting it aside so she could focus on the task at hand. She was far too focused on how good it felt to have his hand on her cheek that she hadn’t registered that he was asking her about what she wanted him to do. Y/N felt her face warm up all over again because she didn’t want to say it outright. It would sound so dirty, she felt like she couldn’t say. She scanned his eyes, waiting for him to say something but he wasn’t letting up. 

“I—I’m really sticky..” She whispered, already feeling shy and embarrassed about all of this. Y/N knew she wasn’t exactly sexy or anything.

Harry knew that she may be embarrassed of how she said things but to him, it was hot. The fact no one else had touched her before and she was going to let him... it was sexy as fuck. Especially because she has a boyfriend who wasn’t up to par with what she wanted.

“S’okay, love. That’s good. Very normal.” He felt himself harden a bit at the visual. “C’mere. Come on my lap.” He motioned for her to straddle him, which she did eagerly. Fuck, this was going to be fun. He was going to teach her some shit. “Why don’t you show me how you like to kiss, sweetheart? Let me see how you want things. Don’t be embarrassed about it either. I promise I’ll find it hot.” He pulled her face down to his and felt his body warm up, her eyes blow and obviously her face warm and eager to get herself touched. “Just kissing for a bit. Then I’ll touch.”’

She wasn’t sure how she was meant to keep her breathing steady when he had so casually just asked her to straddle his lap. Y/N didn’t really think before she moved, surprising even herself with how easily and comfortably she moved into his lap. She felt like everything had gone into slow motion, nodding when he asked her to show him how she liked to kiss. That she could do. 

Y/N was positive he could feel her clench, cunt throbbing at the idea of finally getting to kiss him. She’d been waiting for so long, she felt like she wouldn’t be able to stop once she started. With her face mere centimeters away from his face, she paused for a moment before letting her eyes flutter shut as she leaned in. 

Fuck. 

The pathetic sounding whimpered she released at the feeling had her blushing even harder. Y/N hadn’t made many sounds or answered many of his questions, but that was mostly because she was used to being quiet. This kiss however? God was it perfect. Y/N felt hungry, kissing him with such a desperate need. There was still passion behind it, but she just really wanted him.

Harry could tell this girl was hungry for it. Literally starved for orgasms and he couldn’t help but think about what a damn shame it was that no one had been giving it to her. When her mouth tasted this good and she was so eager and hot in her kisses, he would give her whatever the fuck she wanted. He kissed deep right back, hand wrapping around her hip and pulling her down on to him. She was pleased at that, Harry showing her it was okay to grind. Which, to be honest, may have been a mistake considering how good she was at it. He groaned into her mouth as she rocked and worked her hips, her lips open as she whimpered. 

“S’it good? Think you’re rubbin’ your clit right against my cock like that.” He murmured into her mouth, wanting to talk dirty and see what she would do. What she would respond with.

She couldn’t have imagined it being this good, him kissing her back as if he too had wanted her for all this time. It didn’t feel like this when she kissed Timmy, as awful as it was to say, she was starting to think that maybe Harry was right about him. She was quickly snapped out of those thoughts when his hand pushed her hips down against him. 

“Mmmm” A long whine fell into his mouth, her hips moving at a pretty eager pace. Y/N really wanted to cum. She wanted it so bad she genuinely thought she’d lose it. Of course, she’s made herself cum before, but it felt so different when someone else was involved. Especially that someone being Harry. Y/N felt her cunt throb at the dirty talk. Another pathetic sounding moan fell from her lips and her eyes nearly rolled back in pleasure. “Feels so good.” She whimpered against his lips, desperate for him to touch her. Y/N wasn’t sure what he would do, but having his hands on her? In any way? She would surely lose her mind. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, sticking to his shoulder cause it just seemed right to steady herself. Y/N needs something more.

“Good. You can touch me.” Harry gave her the go ahead. “Wherever you want.” She obviously didn’t know how to do it and he wasn’t going to shame her or want to make her feel uncomfortable. Rather, he slid a hand up her skirt, gently lifting it up and getting his hands into her panties. It was arousing to say the least. His hands held her ass, grabbing at it and helping her move her hips. Holding the bare skin, he squeezed and licked into her mouth, feeling her work her cunt harder and hump a little faster against him. Obviously it felt good to her. “Such a perfect ass, baby.” He whispered, giving her a sweet pet name. “So eager for me. So sweet.” He chuckled, moving to kiss at her neck. She was going to lose it and he liked that he was the one doing it.

Funny how things unfolded exactly how Y/N pictured it in her mind. The second she sat down on the bed she was thinking about straddling him and having his hands on her ass and now that’s exactly what they were doing. It felt so fucking good too. Y/N was trying to hold back her whimpers, but Harry didn’t let up. He just kept licking into her mouth, rubbing and squeezing at her ass as if she wasn’t completely losing it in his lap. Her hands hand hesitantly traveled up to his hair, the way she’d do it to Timmy except... he seemed to respond in a much more appropriate way. Harry seemed to like it, liked it a lot based on the hard squeeze he gave her ass. Y/N let out shaky moans when his lips attached to her neck, she couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Please— I need more.” She pleaded, “feels good, but I need more.. please.” Y/N was begging him to touch her. She wouldn’t tell him explicitly, but if he wanted to lay her down and work his fingers against her she’d like that or even if he wanted to put his mouth to work. Anything, she just needed to cum.

“There we go. Love to hear you ask me.” Harry had been waiting for that begging, and he had gotten it. There was a quick switchover, Harry laying her down and gently moving so he was between her thighs. He would start simple. His finger ran over the soaked through cotton of her pink panties, groaning at the sight. “They’re completely soaked.” He hissed, gently pulling them to the side. He couldn’t stop the deep breath that came when he saw her arousal stringing to the panties when he moved it over. “Fuck me. S’sticky all over your panties. I love that.” He has that effect on her, didn’t he? That was the best part. He had done that. He was going to make her feel the best she ever had. Fingers spread her open, a hum of appreciation coming from his mouth. “Just like I knew it. You’ve got the prettiest pussy... so wet... look how swollen your clit is.” He murmured, thumbing over it. It was visible and his mouth was watering. That pressure on her clit alone had the girl jilting under his touch, making him feel satisfied. His thumb rubbed harder in the sensitive part, watching her face scrunch up in pleasure. “So pretty. Fuck. Can’t believe he’s never touched it. Left it for me to play with.”

Thank goodness she was laying down because Y/N was sure she wouldn’t have been able to keep herself up. He had simply lifted her skirt and revealed her panties, he didn’t even think twice. It seemed everything he did just turned her on. She liked that he just took what he wanted but also made sure she was feeling good. Y/N didn’t realize just how wet she was until he started to run his fingers over her and they felt completely slick. Her eyes rolled back, one of her hands gripping at his bed sheets while the other stayed on the nape of his neck tangled into his perfect locks. Her breath hitched, her other hand moving to cover her mouth because she knew she was about to be so fucking loud. Her body practically twitched whenever he rubbed over her swollen clit, his fingers were working magic in her and honestly, she wasn’t even sure if she could do it better herself. 

“Ah!” Y/N whined, her hips bucking up against his touch when she felt herself getting closer. She was so worked up she knew she could cum right then and there if he would let her. Her body was giving it away.

It made Harry all too aware of how stupid Timothée was. He wasn’t touching this cunt? Wasn’t getting these reactions? He had to be gay. There was no other way. 

“You’re so sensitive... fuck.” Harry couldn’t believe she was trusting him. If all people do this to her. It wasn’t like they’d ever been close. They went to each other’s birthday parties in elementary school like all the kids in classes did. But that was about it. Thank god for anatomy. 

“Just relax, love.” He muttered, spreading her legs further as he got comfortable. “This is gonna feel really good. Just do what feels right. Can pull on my hair... be as loud as you want, please. Love to hear I’m going a good job.” He smirked, holding her thighs open as he licked one thick stripe up her cunt.

“Oh— oh my god!” Y/N gasped loudly when she felt his wet tongue on her cunt. Her legs twitched from the pleasure that was spiking now that he was focused in her clit. Her hand traveled down to tug at his hair as suggested, her whole body reacting to his actions. She’d never felt anything like this before, felt like she was dreaming. At first she was a bit shy with the noises she was making, but he clearly didn’t like that, immediately increasing the pressure and speed and sticking to it so that she was a moaning mess for him. Y/N knew that if anyone was home they’d think someone was being tortured but god— it was nothing but sweet sweet pleasure. When Y/N played with herself on her own she never pushed her limits like Harry was doing. She was so sensitive and she knew that, but he was purposely working over her most sensitive spots so she was writhing and twitching beneath him. “Ah— mmmm—“ Y/N whined out, “Harry!” She gasped, feeling herself falling over the edge quite rapidly. Her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks, it was so incredibly fast she wasn’t ready for that at all. Her moans were high pitched and whiny, her breathing heavy as she tried to get air in her lungs. She held herself back too, felt like she was going to pee on him if he kept going.

Harry kept going. 

If this was her first orgasm by someone else, her first proper orgasm? She was going to get the best one. He knew she was sensitive— could feel it in her shaking thighs, but he was a man of conviction. He went full on, suckling on her clit. The way she was reacting was beautiful, a soundless scream followed by his name and shudders. However— he wasn’t expecting her to squirt. It was the hottest damn thing he had ever experienced in his life. Her first orgasm and she was cumming that hard, Harry pulling back and rubbing her clit hard as she continued to leak. 

“Fuuuuuck, yes. Give it to me, sweetheart.” He groaned. Holy fuck. He hadn’t expected it to turn out like this at all but he wasn’t going to complain.

The sound that escaped her even shocked Y/N. A loud, borderline pained, scream left from her throat and her eyes squeezed shut. Her breathing was shaky, her hands having moved to cover her face because holy fuck was she overwhelmed. It was a lot. Y/N didn’t think it was humanly possible to cum that hard, and he just kept going. She was so sensitive it hurt, especially when he started rubbing on her clit after she seemingly peed on him but, he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she thought he liked it. Y/N was in an endless stream of whimpers and throaty moans, he didn’t seem like he was giving up any time soon and she wasn’t sure if she could handle another. 

“It hurts—” She whimpered out, moving her hands from her face to grip at the pillow behind her. “But it feels so good.” Y/N was completely fucked. So gone for, the hormones and endorphins overcoming her. He seemed to know what he was doing, so she let him continue. She didn’t want him to stop if she was going to keep feeling like this.

“God, you’re so good. Letting me do whatever I want... we’re so deprived before, weren’t you?” Harry was shocked. The fact she was letting him continue, shaking but loving every bit? He was happy. Damn. Finally, a girl who could keep up with him and she had to be taken. “You okay?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over her clit lazily. His mouth had kissed at her thighs, biting down gently on one. “Hm.. can I mark here?” It wasn’t like her boyfriend was gonna see it. “And you don’t mind if I get myself off, do you?” He wanted to cum on her thighs or her stomach. His cock ached in his pants and he had no problem just getting her off, but he needed to cum. Of course he wouldn’t ask her to do anything, though. Despite it all, he respected her. She was a good girl. He was tainting her a bit but, she was happy to be tainted.

Y/N nodded her head to let him know she was okay, but he didn’t seem happy with her nodding, he wanted an answer. “Yes.” She whimpered out an answer to all of the things that he asked, still breathing shakily and twitching whenever the tension built up enough. The slow rubbing on her clit was still bringing her lots of pleasure, it made her want to cum again and that freaked her out. Could she really take that much? She’d never seen a cock in person before. Only even in porn but she didn’t watch that either because it made her feel yucky. Y/N swallowed thickly, seeing just how big he was. Holy shit. That was meant to fit inside someone? She already had trouble sticking her fingers in, but that? However, she was interested in watching him. Y/N watched him with loopy eyes, knowing for a fact she’d worship him after this. If he let her come back for more she happily would. Hell, she’d follow him around like a puppy if he kept making her feel like this.

It was probably the hottest hook up Harry’s ever had. Truth be told. He was in shock that Y/N was so needy for it and the fact she had let him be the one to play with her, to get her off, it was astonishing. There was nothing hotter than watching her legs open and pussy pulsing a bit from the intensity of her orgasms. 

“Mmm... you’re fucking hot.” Harry hissed, stroking himself as he bit down on her thigh. She let out a yelp that turned into a whine as he sucked a mark on to the softness of it, smirking when she rutted into his finger. After that though, he decided to take things up. “M’not gonna go in. Just... relax.” He rested himself against her cunt and rubbed the tip against her clit as he stroked himself heavily, hissing when her slickness covered him. It made it easy to stroke. “Jesus, you’re good. Feels good, hm? Better than your own fingers?” He knew it was. She looked fucked out, hips bucking into his own as he approached his own orgasm. Would it be too far to cum on her cunt? “Can I... fuck, can I cum on your cunt?” He had originally wanted her tummy or her thighs but seeing his cock against her now... he felt a bit primal.

Y/N had never expected this. This was the farthest she’d gone with anyone and the fact that it was with the guy that she’d been fantasizing about for years? It felt so unreal, definitely added to the intensity of her orgasms. Having him mark her? In a place where she’d be the only one to find it? That made her cunt throb. He started rubbing himself on her and she felt like that was a whole other level of horny. He felt so good against her, Y/N didn’t think she was that hot but Harry seemed to think so and that was enough to get her to feel confident enough to answer him with her full voice when he asked to cum on her cunt. 

“Yeah... you can cum on me..” Y/N didn’t have it in her to say cunt yet, but baby steps nonetheless. Harry was so hot, he looked so good above her. They weren’t even naked, just their lower halves, which in a way made it hotter because they were just that needy. His face was still slick with her, and that was something she couldn’t get over. 

It was apparent that Y/N didn’t know just how hot she was and that was a goddamn shame in Harry’s opinion. Because she was. She was so hot and he was sure that this wasn’t going to be the only time they had fun. 

“Fuck.. fuck.” He hissed as he began to cum on her. There was nothing like watching his cum stripe over her, soiling it with the white cream. It only made his orgasm better, a groan leaving him as he ran his cock through the slit and pressed against her clit again. “Fuck me, that’s so hot.” He whispered, mouth open at just how good it looked. When he saw her gawking at it, her tits moving under the fabric of her top, he smirked. “Want to taste it?” He ran two fingers through the mess.

Watching Harry cum was definitely the hottest thing Y/N had ever seen, the sounds he released and his scrunched up face was enough to make her shudder. On top of that, the feeling of hot cum ribboning over her cunt was something that she again couldn’t explain. It felt good, satisfying, especially because he seemed to be dying over it.

“Yes.”

It was a quiet squeak of an answer but it was an answer. Y/N was curious, she wanted to know what he tasted like and had a feeling that he too wanted her to try. If she didn’t like it she’d pretend to like it, but holy fuck she did actually like it. It was salty, a strange texture, but definitely not the worst thing she’d ever had in her mouth. It had its own taste, but she enjoyed that. Her mouth was wrapped around his fingers, gently licking and sucking the cum off his fingers while watching his eyes. He seemed to like this a lot too. Y/N was learning quite a bit, mostly that Timmy was definitely gay. But she didn’t just want to confront him like that that wouldn’t be fair. As soon as she was done, Harry kissed her again. This time it was more gentle than before. A kiss of appreciation. That was some good shit. Harry hadn’t been with someone who was a virgin and didn’t realize how horny they got— maybe it was just Y/N, though. He could have been having this and he didn’t. 

It was a good thing for Harry though. He got to have what he wanted and while he knew that was a lot, he didn’t really care that he could potentially hurt his feelings. He had made Y/N feel inadequate anyways. 

“Let me clean you up.” He murmured, smiling when she pouted when he pulled away. He was gentle with it, wiping her clean with tissues next to his bed. When she jumped, he chuckled. 

“Sensitive, I know.” He was smug about it though. Yes. He had done that. Though it was a shame she was too sensitive to clean it with his tongue. He would have been down.

The kiss was definitely something that Y/N needed. It was a nice little reminder that Harry was a gentleman and that she hadn’t just gone and done stuff with someone who was a complete asshole. Y/N always knew that Harry was a good guy, sure she’d heard rumors about him and knew he had gotten around and did drugs, but never had she heard about him being mean. Even when cleaning her up he was gentle, but of course she felt all shy again because she was laying fully exposed in front of the guy she had a crush on who had just made her cum three times within the span of 20 minutes. It was a lot. She’d completely forgotten about the fact that she was here to do an anatomy project. Y/N stayed quiet for the most part, letting him clean her up. Once she was finished she slipped on her panties again, though it felt quite dirty because they were still soaking wet. She’d need to take a shower when she got home. “Thank you.” She told him, feeling herself blush all over again.

“You’re welcome. Do you want a pair of boxers or something to wear instead of your panties?” Harry didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. At the relieved look on her face, he chuckled and went to his drawer, grabbing his smaller pair. “Here. May be big on you but, better than being uncomfortable.” He threw them to her and grabbed his water bottle, taking a sip before sitting down. “Want to do this project then?” Now that the sexual tension was at least fixed for a bit, he was happy to get to work. He wanted to see her get a good grade too. It didn’t have to be weird. 

“Oh, thanks.” Y/N smiled bashfully and stood up to change into them. There was no need for her to be all shy about it anymore. Y/N put her dirty panties to the side, taking a sip of her water bottle as well because lord knows she needed up. She was definitely a lot looser after their little activities, much more relaxed and open to talking and working. 

It really did feel better after they'd fucked around. Harry noticed that Y/N was more loose and seemed to feel more at ease now that he’s had his mouth on her pussy. They’d done a bit today and he was sure he would be on her mind for a long time after she left, which made him smug. 

----

They were finishing up when he asked for her number. “Put yours in. Dunno if you want to do this again but... I wouldn’t mind.” Harry would love it.

Y/N was already thinking about doing this again. Now that all her initial nerves were out of the way, she felt like I’d be easier for her to do things with him. She’d probably never initiate it again like this until she was this desperate, but whenever he wanted her again, if he did, she’d happily come over. She typed in her number and texted herself.

“The project or?” Y/N was a bit stupid sometimes, she didn’t want to assume he wanted to but based on the look on his face she figured he meant the other thing. “Oh, yeah— I um... I’d like that very much.” She said and finished putting her stuff away. “Thanks again... I’ll see you.” Y/N spoke when he walked her down the stairs and out the door. 

She’d left her panties in his room.

He had come upstairs to find the lovely gift that was left. Sure, it wasn’t on purpose but it was his now. He’d let her know that. They smelled like her and damn, it was good. Stuffed in his side drawer, he sat and absorbed the whole thing. Maybe he should feel guilt for having her cheat. But she needed it. The poor girl was nearly frothing at the mouth with need for sexual release and something about him tickled her. He couldn’t say no to that. Especially when she was so excited to do it and so responsive. 

Later that night he texted her. 

‘Hey, it’s Harry’

‘Did you want to come over again on Friday and work?’ He snickered at that. They’d work but... he knew by Friday she would be wanting more. 

‘Also, appreciate the gift you left. They’re lovely. Xx’ He sent a picture of the waistband of the panties in his hand.

On the bike ride home Y/N felt herself whimper every time she went over a bump. Harry had definitely done a number on her and she couldn’t have been more thankful. She texted Timmy when she got home, asking him about how he was and how his day was as usual though, she was surprised she didn’t feel really guilty. By the time she had showered and freshened up, she saw that she’d received texts back from both of them, but of course she wanted to answer Harry’s first. 

‘Hii! yeah, I can do that!’

‘oh my god 🤭’

She left them at his house? Fuck. She should have just put them in her bag but... she did have his boxers, so it didn’t really matter did it? Timmy had texted her back responding with how his day went saying he was super busy getting ready for his re-election campaign. It was his way of saying they wouldn’t really be able to hang out. She told him that she was sad but that she’d see him at school. Realistically she knew she needed to talk to him, but she wanted him to be able to tell her I’m his own time. She’d stop trying to have sex with him, only if he tried though.

‘I’ll be having fun with them. They’re in great hands. Don’t worry.’

He was smug about it for sure. But still, he couldn’t help but feel beyond happy about it because perhaps he had found a new person to fuck around with. Sure, he liked hook ups at parties but he had wanted a designated person to be around and fuck with. And Y/N was a cool chick. He hadn’t paid too much attention to her before, only to notice she was hot and also questioning why she was dating that kid. But the closer he got, the hotter she was. And fun to be around after she chilled out. She hadn’t mentioned being surprised by his room and the kind of nerdy star stuff in it. So he liked her a bit more for that. 

‘Good. Come over on Friday and we can work late. My dad’s away and my mom is on her book tour shit, so we’ll be alone, if that’s cool w you?’

Was he? He was flirting a bit wasn’t he? Y/N wasn’t exactly sure but him suggesting that his parents would be away and that they would be alone in his house again made butterflies erupt in her stomach. She was really excited to see his cats again and hang out, they’d likely finish another part of their project and likely fuck around a bit and that made her nervous all over again. 

‘Okaaay sounds good :) ’

She set her phone on her stomach and just looked up at the ceiling. Holy shit. Y/N couldn’t wait for Friday now, excited to see what else he’d have in store for her. She was simply excited to get to know him a bit more, he was hiding a lot of stuff from people from school. Of course she noticed all the astronomy shit in his room, saw the tons of books that he had with sticky notes showing they were clearly annotated. There was a lot more to him than met the eye.

---------------------------------------

[part 2]

A/N: Without giving too much away, yes, skater boy harry is bi and is whore for astronomy but we’ll get into that later ;) - n+d

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