#He's gonna look so handsome in the new style

[elizaxspears]

Hang on, since the Green Witch Arc is getting animated next, does that mean we'll get to see how the reapers are created, animated? Does that mean we'll see Alan and Eric almost properly animated? (even if they're DEAD and probably still covered by shadows)

I'm hyped for the whole season but my reaper brain is just focused on these points. I feel like if they do animate it, we might get to see more of what reaper took what route? I know there's already tons of theories and some pretty obvious ones, but we could get more of a confirmation?

Also William and Grell in Cloverworks style? I'm excited to see that, as well as Sascha and Ludger for the first time.

The hype is REAL, my friends, I can't wait to finally watch it next year.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Giving the nerd a chance

tags: nerd!nanami/fem!reader, college!au, stsg, nsfw, dirty talk, asphyxiation, size kink, mdni!!

a/n: this one’s a long one :) pace yourself and enjoy!

Kento Nanami is a social enigma. He is a total outlier but in the weirdest way possible.

This man is conventionally attractive. Some would even go as far to say Nanami’s handsome, almost in a filthy way. His looks are sneaky too. He’s not someone you’d immediately notice in a room, but once you did…

You would notice his sculpted jaw line first. Then, his naturally high cheekbones that gave way to his soft hazel eyes. He had a serious look on his face always, but his eyes told a different story. Maybe you’d notice his blonde hair that sat neatly on his head, styled with an undercut. Yeah, Nanami was fucking hot.

But that’s not the weird part. No, you haven’t heard him utter a single word except to answer the professor’s unanswered questions once the silence was unbearable.

That’s not exactly weird either. There are tons of people who go through college without the intention of making friends… but Nanami has friends. He doesn’t just have like one friend. No, he’s apart of a friend group.

The weirdest part was he seemed to be close with the most popular guy in your university, star quarterback Satoru Gojo. Gojo was seemingly every college girl’s wet dream. He’s the type to stand out in a room. His looks and personality demand attention.

He’s the complete opposite from Nanami.

Then, there was Suguru Geto… Geto was also a strange friend for Nanami to have. Geto was smart, funny, and well-mannered… when he was in class. But you’ve seen how Geto acts at parties. He smokes cigarettes, shotguns whiskey, and keeps up with all of Gojo’s antics. Shoko was the exact same way, except she didn’t care enough to keep up with Gojo’s buffoonery.

They were the complete opposite from Nanami as well.

Yu Haibara was a cutie patootie. He’s also a sweet social butterfly. Another one of Nanami’s friends that just didn’t seem to be his type.

You caught yourself staring at the friend group as you’re sitting on a couch at a frat house. Your college team just won the game, so Satoru had invited a whole slew of people over. You somehow made it on that list. Your friend, Utahime, is begging you to leave, but something is telling you to stay.

“Go on without me, Uta. I’ll be fine, promise.” You say over the music as you flash her a small smile to assure her.

“I really, really, really don’t want to leave you here alone, yn. I don’t want you to end up on the front page of the news.”

“Don’t wish that shit upon me.” You laugh as you gently nudge her arm, urging her towards the door.

“I’m serious, yn. Please text me. If you’re not back in the dorm by midnight, I’m calling the cops.” She says as she grabs your shoulders, forcing you to face her directly.

You admire your friend’s caring demeanor, but she was being a total cock block for you right now.

“I will text you. I promise.” You assure her once again. “Go back to the dorm. Love you.”

She sighs deeply as she lets you go. She’s still not comfortable with the idea of leaving you here, but she can’t force you to leave. “Love you too. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Oh, that’s all I’m gonna do.” You smirk as she flips you off and leaves the frat house.

You take a drink from your red solo cup to gather your nerves. Nanami has been sitting in the corner of the kitchen all night. He’s alone, but he doesn’t look lonely. Sometimes, Satoru will drunkenly slouch his weight onto the blonde and slur something inaudible to him. From what you can see, Nanami just rolls his eyes and shrugs his friend off his shoulders.

You want to approach him, but you’re still too afraid he won’t talk to you. As you sit down your cup, an intoxicated Satoru is standing over you.

“I’m sorry- I don’t remember your name.” He gives you a slanted smile as he crouches down a bit so you two are face-to-face.

“That’s okay. I don’t remember yours either.” You snip back with a small grin. Something sparkles in his eyes as you give him a little bit of a challenge. He finds it to be endearing.

“Cheeky. Give me your number.” He demands, keeping his smirk on his face.

“Why should I give it to you?”

“Because it’s not for me.” He slurs as he leans in close to you. He nods his head towards the kitchen. “I’m doing this for my pussy friend over there.”

Your eyes dart towards Nanami. His eyes are glaring holes into Satoru with more anger and emotion than you’ve ever seen from him. Your stomach swirls with butterflies.

“That is a really good reason.” You murmur as you quickly type your number into Satoru’s phone.

*** *** ***

It had been days since the frat party and not a single word from Nanami. Your excitement had honestly fizzled out into sulking. Were you not good enough for him? Did Satoru lie? Was it all a sick prank?

Not even Utahime could get you in a good mood.

“Yn. This is so ridiculous. If you like him that much, just go up and talk to him.” She chides

“Noooo.” You groan into your pillow as you turn onto your stomach in your bed. “He’s too cool. Out of my league.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Kento Nanami? The nerd who barely ever talks? The know-it-all in class?”

“Utahimeee.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Let me wallow in my self pity.” You gripe before you hear your phone buzz. The sound of your phone notifying you doesn’t even excite you anymore. It’s always some lame ass notification.

Unknown Number: Is this yn?

Your eyes widen as you stare at your phone in disbelief. Your body involuntarily sits up in bed, startling Utahime.

“Jesus Christ. What? What happened?”

“He texted me!” You beam proudly. You are embarrassing. Utahime scoffs and walks away from you, unable to take the second-hand embarrassment.

Yn: Yeah, that’s me :)

Unknown Number: This is Kento Nanami. I’m sorry Gojo felt the need to disturb you at the party. 

Yn: No need! He didn’t disturb me too much.

Nanami: That’s good to hear.

God. Now, what do you say? Of course Nanami is a dry texter. You stare at the text conversation for a while, trying to think of something.. anything to break the ice.

Yn: Did you ask him to get my number, or did he do that on his own volition?

Nanami: Gojo does things on his own volition.

Yn: Ah.. I see.

He left you on read.

Goddammit.

You had your chance, and now, you blew it. Sighing, you lock your phone and try to forget he even ever texted you in the first place.

*** *** ***

I mean, who even needs Nanami? He’s really not even that handsome or mysterious. You keep telling yourself as you get ready to go to another party Gojo invited you too.

Oh, also, Gojo kept your number for himself as well. He mostly asked to copy your notes when Nanami refused to let him copy his notes. He would also send the occasional invitation to one of his signature parties.

This one was apparently labeled as “exclusive”. You had no idea what that meant, but you weren’t allowed to bring a plus-one this time.

Luckily for you, Utahime was visiting back home for the weekend, so she couldn’t scold you for going out to another party this weekend.

Black eyeliner was smeared across your waterline, and you puckered your lips as you carefully applied some sheer gloss. You decided to be casual with your outfit, wearing a basic off-shoulder black top with some jeans.

As soon as you got to the frat house, you quickly understood what “exclusive” meant. It was only their closest friends in the house. Satoru and Haibara were on the couch, lounging. Suguru and Shoko were sitting by the window, sharing a cigarette. Nanami was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, looking as stoic as ever. Immediately, you were grateful for going with a more casual look.

“Yn! So glad you made it!” Satoru grinned in a more sober voice than the last time you spoke with him.

“Am I imposing on something?” You ask as you close the door.

“Of course not, silly. I sent you an invite for a reason.” Satoru says casually as he pats the spot between him and Haibara on the couch. “Come have a seat. Get comfortable. We’re just hanging out tonight.”

You stare at the seat between Gojo and Haibara, and you decide to sit in the open chair next to them instead.

“Afraid that we might bite?” Gojo grins as he leans over the arm of the chair towards you.

“Stop it, Satoru. You’re going to scare her away.” Shoko scolds before taking a drag off her cigarette.

Your phone gently buzzes in your pocket as Satoru and Shoko begin to bicker about his social skills. You sneakily check your phone.

Nanami: You look pretty tonight.

OH. We are so back, baby.

Yn: Thank you :) You look as handsome as ever.

Nanami: Oh yeah?

It is so small and insignificant, but that little “oh yeah?” makes your stomach flutter with excitement.

“Yn?” You snap your attention up to Shoko and realize she has been trying to talk to you.

“Shit- sorry. What’s up?”

Your phone lightly buzzes again, and you quickly glance down to check.

Nanami: You’re blushing.

“I was asking what your major is.” Shoko smiles calmly as she’s sat upon the windowsill. She flicks her cigarette outside before blowing out a cloud of smoke. You try to ignore how your heart is skipping beats right now.

“Oh, I’m just in general studies right now. I’m kind of indecisive. What about you?”

“I’m pre-med right now.” Shoko answers.

“I thought you swapped to nursing.” Haibara asks as he shifts his body to face her. The two start conversing together, giving you a chance to check your phone.

Nanami: Are you ill, or do my words just affect you that much?

Yn: I’m actually ill.

Nanami: You’re also apparently a liar, sweetheart.

How the fuck was this man so bold over text, but wouldn’t speak to hardly anyone in person?

Yn: Sweetheart? I didn’t know we were on that sort of level yet.

Nanami: Does that make you uncomfortable?

Yn: No

Nanami: Good. Then don’t complain.

The throb your cunt just did should’ve been illegal. There was no reason for you to be so turned on by that, but you were.

Yn: What would you have done had I said that it did make me uncomfortable?

Nanami: I would’ve found you a nickname you were more comfortable with.

He was being sweet, and you were over there clenching around nothing like a whore.

You had been so caught up in your phone that you didn’t realize Yu had went and gotten everyone a beer out of the fridge. You decide to risk a glance at Nanami. He looked calm and composed. You wondered if he even knew the effect he had on you truly.

“Shoko, when are you finally going to get some bitches?” Satoru asks with a laugh. Your eyes widen as you notice Suguru is on his lap now. You had really been so distracted by your phone…

“At this rate, I think Nanami will beat me.” Shoko laughed as she took a drink of her beer. You shift slightly in your seat as Shoko cuts her eyes towards you with a small grin.

Nanami: I will

Yn: Will what?

Nanami: I will beat her.

Yn: Confident or competitive?

Nanami: Both.

Yn: You didn’t strike me as the type.

Nanami: You don’t think I can do it?

Yn: I never said that.

Nanami lays his phone on his lap, and you can feel his eyes trailing up and down your body. Feeling your heart skip a beat, you decide to look up at him. Your breath hitches in your throat as you glance over him. He looks relaxed. His head is propped up in his hand, and he’s almost giving you a lazy smile.

Knowing more about Nanami, you recognize it as a cocky smile now.

The rest of the “party” goes without a hitch. You decided it was time to leave once Suguru and Satoru were obnoxiously making out, Shoko was asleep on the floor, and Haibara wouldn’t shut the fuck up about the intricacies of anime.

“I’m gonna head back to my dorm now. Thanks for inviting me.” You say quickly as you stand from your seat.

“Hey yn-!” Satoru says as he tugs from Suguru’s lips. The dark-haired male made quick work of moving down to his neck. “Thanks for coming. You should come out here more often.”

“Oh um, I’ll think about it.” You smile politely as you head out the front door. The cold night air nips at your skin. The only light was from the moon high up in the sky. The dorms were a few blocks away.

You never like walking alone at night, but you try to remember that college campuses have security patrolling at all times. Taking a deep shaky breath, you step off the porch.

The sound of the door closing again immediately startles you. You quickly flinch and look towards the frat house. Nanami was calming walking up to you.

“Let me walk you back.” His voice was calm and steady, just like his presence. He really wasn’t phased at all by your subtle flirting earlier?

“Thanks.. I was actually kinda scared.” You mumble as you two walk side by side on the pavement. Your arms hug your body, trying to hide from the snippy air.

“Why didn’t you ask one of us to walk you home then?” Nanami asks as he slips his coat off from his shoulders. He then loosely drapes it over your shoulders. You feel your heart skip a beat as you mumble a quick thanks. Your body snuggled into his coat as it swallowed your frame whole. It was the first time you realized… Nanami is a big man. He’s not just some scrawny nerd. He’s actually pretty well built.

“I didn’t want to be a bother.” You answer quietly, noticing how Nanami shoves his hands into his pockets while you two walk.

“That’s foolish. We invited you. The least we could do is make sure you make it home safely.”

“We?”

Nanami goes silent, and he looks away from your shorter self. The wind blows harshly, making the leaves crinkle and hiss on the trees.

“Yes, we.” He finally answers your question. You smile softly as you look down towards the ground. It seems like Satoru wasn’t the only one who wanted you around.

Standing in front of your dorm door, you slowly slip the coat off from around your shoulders and try to hand it back to him. “I don’t want it.” He answers calmly, making no effort to take the jacket back from you.

“It’s yours, silly.”

“And?”

“Take it.” You gestured the coat to him once more

“No, I want you to have it.” He says as he towers over you. You subconsciously take a step back to create space, and your back hits the door. He leans over you, having to angle his back to see eye-to-eye with you. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over your cheek as he cocks his head towards your ear and neck. “Text me.” He murmurs lowly before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You were left against your door blushing madly as he casually sauntered away.

*** *** ***

You almost think you dreamt that kiss up come Monday morning. You hadn’t texted him all weekend, not even knowing what to say. You felt scared about messing things up and taking his advances the wrong way. He hadn’t reached out to you either.

You were sitting in Neurology, half-ass paying attention as the professor lectured about neuron pruning. Nanami sat a few rows over. He always appeared to he intently listening when you glance over at him. You perk up as you feel your phone buzz on your thigh.

Nanami: You’re not going to do well if you don’t pay attention.

Yn: I could say the same for you.

Nanami: Could you?

Yn: …. point taken

Nanami: You know, you could’ve at least texted me if you didn’t like the kiss.

Yn: Who said I didn’t?

Nanami: So, you disobey my request for fun?

Yn: Disobey is such a strong word. You told me to text you, and I just.. haven’t yet.

Nanami: We’ll come back to the disobedience topic. Why haven’t you texted me “yet”?

Yn: Nervous.

Nanami: You’re adorable. What’s there to be nervous about?

“Can anyone name an example of synaptic pruning?” The professor’s sudden loud voice catches you off guard. You hadn’t been paying attention at all, and you feel your heart start to race at the thought of being randomly called upon.

“Anyone?” The professor asks once again. “Yn-“ She almost says your first name before Nanami interrupts.

“Crown thinning.” He answers the question, saving you from total embarrassment.

“Very good. Thank you, Kento.” The professor praises as she turns back around to start lecturing from the powerpoint again.

Yn: You totally just saved me.

Nanami: Pay better attention.

Yn: Then stop texting me.

Nanami: No.

Nanami: Answer my question. Why were you nervous?

Yn: I just didn’t want to say the wrong things.

Nanami: You’re hopeless.

Yn: You’re starting to sound like Utahime :(

Nanami: Will you coo to me that you love me if I act like her?

You feel your heart start to race as you read his text over and over. He was way more observant than you gave him credit for. You couldn’t even think of a time where you told Uta that you loved her in front of him.

Yn: Is that what you want?

Nanami: That does sound nice. Though, I think I’d rather hear you breathlessly professing your love to me.

oh…

oh.

You sat your phone down. No way were you going to let some simple words over a screen let you get horny in class. You didn’t dare to glance in his direction as you suddenly decided to start paying attention and taking detailed notes on Neurology.

Nanami: You’re blushing again.

Damn him and his observant personality. Damn him and his filthy words that make you squeeze your thighs together to soothe the ache.

Yn: I’m well aware.

Nanami: It’s cute. Makes me want to say more things just to get a reaction out of you.

Yn: Please don’t

Nanami: Why? Scared you might like it?

Nanami: Scared you might like the thought of being beneath me, begging for more?

Jesus. There was no misinterpreting that. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared down at your phone, rereading his message over and over. It painted a picture in your brain.

Yn: As if you could make me do that.

Nanami: I can, and I will. Come over tonight.

Yn: To the frat house?

Nanami: No, to my room. I’ll tell Haibara to not come back until late.

Yn: That seems rather rude.

Nanami: It’s far better than the treatment you’ll be receiving later.

Your head feels like it’s spinning as the professor dismisses class. The rest of the day drags by painfully slow as you feel every little heartbeat and flutter in your chest. Nanami talked big game for someone who seemed too shy to really speak to you. It made you feel intrigued. How could he be so confident in his ability to make you beg?

You took your time once you were back at your dorm: going through your everything-shower routine. You wanted to make sure that every inch of you was soft and smooth just in case! It’s not like he’s actually going to make you do anything.

Knocking on his door, you feel your stomach churn with anxiety. You two seemed to be doing better at keeping up a conversation, but you were still deathly afraid of that awkward silence sinking in.

The click of the lock gains your attention, and Nanami opens the door for you. “Come in.” He says flatly, moving out of the way of the door so you can squeeze past him. He’s wearing his usual button-up shirt with black slacks on. How does this man even relax?

Of course his room is completely clean. His bed was even made military style for crying out loud. What the fuck does this man know about making women beg?

“Your room is nice.” You compliment, trying not to sound too awkward.

“It’s a room.” He shrugs nonchalantly before his eyes travel your body.

“How did you tell Haibara not to come home?” You ask, and he gives you a slightly puzzled look.

“I told him the truth.” He says as he loosens his tie from around his neck.

You swallow harshly as you watch his slender fingers pull at the fabric. His jaw is perfectly sculpted along with his neck, and his adams apple bobs as he steps towards you.

“Which is?” You reluctantly ask.

“I told him not to come home unless he planned on watching me fuck a pretty girl to tears.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you stare up at him with almost a frightened gaze. His movement feels much more predatory now as if he’s been watching you for a while, sizing you up. He had observed and stood by, waiting for the prime opportunity to pounce.

“What is it? Cat got your tongue?” Nanami asks as he steps forward again. The back of your knees hits his bed, and his smile shifts to a lopsided grin.

“No. I just…” You had no idea what to even say to that! You weren’t use to a man so confidently bolstering about his skills without sounding like a total idiot. Nanami was a rarity. He could talk the talk and walk the walk.

“No. I just..” He mocks you. “You’re awfully nervous for someone I haven’t even touched yet.” His fingers gently caress over your collarbone, before he carefully nudged you back. You tipped over and found yourself sitting on his bed, looking up at him with big round eyes.

“Christ. Have you ever even done this before?” He asks as he leans over you. His hand press down on the mattress at both of your sides, effectively trapping you beneath him.

“Yes!” You exclaim with a huffy attitude that makes him chuckle. “Have you?” You ask, trying to even the score.

“No.” He responds before closing the distance between you two. His lips press against yours and move delicately. Your eyes widen before you realize what was going on, and you slowly melt into the kiss.

Lips smack together as he takes the lead on the kiss. His hands gently cup and caress their way down your body before resting upon your hips. His knee finds it’s way between your thighs, and he applies pressure to your core.

Stifling a small whine, you entangle your fingers through his blonde hair. It’s softer than you imagined it to be. His kisses are growing more and more demanding as he’s pushing you back onto the bed more and more.

He gently bites at your lip, and he applies more pressure with his knee. As soon as you let another another small whimper, he slips his tongue into your mouth.

He’s taking complete and utter advantage over your body while you’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact he said “no”. He’s claiming to have never done this before.

His thumbs dig into your hipbones before he makes you grind against his knee.

“That’s right. Use me.” He purrs lowly, encouraging for you to keep rolling your hips. Once you found a steady rhythm, rubbing yourself against his knee like a desperate slut, he releases your hips and grabs your wrists, pinning you down to the bed.

“Ken..” You gasp out lowly, and he immediately eats up your words, forcing his lips right back upon yours.

The grinding was slowly making you feel all dizzy in the head as you slowly start to mess up your rhythm. He immediately notices your messy state. His hands leave your wrists to grab back ahold of your thighs to make sure you don’t stop. If his slacks weren’t black, he was sure there would be a small damp spot on his leg from your delicious juices.

“Hah~” You gasp as you lean your head back.

“Does that feel good?” He questions lowly before carefully nipping at your neck.

“Yes… Yes, Kento.. more..”

“Oh, what was that, darling? I didn’t hear you.” He taunts as he bites his way down your neck.

“M-more!” You whimper out as you grow impatient.

“So greedy…” He murmurs before his sucks a small hickey on your neck all while he’s still making you grind your pitiful pussy against his thigh. “Beg.”

You feel that defiant nature wanting to kick in. You were needy for him, but you weren’t to the point of begging yet.

“Did you hear me? I said beg.” He demands as he forces you down on his leg harder. Your legs tremble around him as he’s making you rock hack and forth.

“Please-“ You finally choke out against your defiant nature. “I-I.. want more, please… I need you to.. to ruin me.”

“Ruin you, hm?” He asks as his hand carefully trails upwards to your neck. He applies just a bit of pressure. “A pretty girl like you asking for me to ruin her… How could I say no?”

He removes his leg from between your leg, and he quickly replaces it with his hand. His fingers rub firm circles around your clit through the cloth of your leggings. You immediately shudder from the new stimulation. You hold his gaze as he lightly chokes you.

“I think I want to see you come on my fingers first.” He says as he’s quick to shove your leggings and panties down. You gasp quietly as you look down at him. He shuffles himself down between your legs, and he has a determined look on his face. He was set on making you come with his hand.

You push your thighs together with a small whine as he gives your glistening cunt an amorous gaze. Nanami places his hands on both of your knees as he forces your legs back apart. “Now, you know why you came here. What are you running from?”

“I- … You’re looking at me like…” the words ‘like you want to eat me’ die upon your tongue. His aura is just so.. almost intimidating. Not in a scary way, just in a he’s-not-here-to-play way.

“You’re so pretty, but gods, you’re so confusing.” He shakes his head as he carefully drags his tongue up your slippery folds. “Just sit still and let me take care of you, darling.” He mumbles before he laps at your cunt again. He purses his lips and gently sucks on your clit. It almost feels like he’s making out with your pussy.

“Oh.. f-fuck..” You gasp as you lean your head back into his mattress. Your hands fist at the blanket beneath you, ruining his perfectly made bed.

Nanami continues to lick and suck. The sounds in the room were nothing short of erotic. The wet sounds of his lips and tongue smack and almost slurp at you. His hands hold your thighs up, practically wearing them as earmuffs as he eats you like a starved man.

His fingertip gently traced over your opening before he carefully slipped a finger in. He continued to lap at your cunt as his finger pumped in and out and prodded around.

“Oh my-! .. N-Nanami.. ah~” You pant out. In his eyes, your entire body was flushed. You were so subtly grinding yourself against his tongue. In his eyes, you were a goddess in touch with her sexuality and femininity. You just needed a small nudge to get there.

He adds a second finger, and he so carefully curls them upwards to gently press right on the spot that made you see stars.

Your hands abandoned the bed, and you grabbed onto his hair. His hazel eyes flutter up at you, and his glasses were pushed up onto his head.

Your orgasm was building quicker than it ever had before. “Nanami-! fuck, I’m gonna..” You try to warn, but he’s already a step ahead of you. His fingers start pumping a big more aggressively, and he’s pointed with his tongue, focusing all his attention on your clit. His tongue swirls in tight circles around the small bundle of nerves.

Your orgasm washes over you as you clench around his fingers, spasming on his face. He continues to thrust his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face and hand. Pressing a few more small kisses to your overly sensitive cunt, he slowly pulls away. “Good girl.” He praises lowly.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you recover from the best orgasm you’ve ever received. Your eyes flutter open weakly to see Nanami ditch his glasses. He uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth and chin dry.

He then places the fingers he so deliciously used to fuck you into his mouth, and he sucks them clean with a satisfied groan.

“You taste so sweet.” He mumbles as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. It falls to the floor as he starts to unbuckle his belt. You can already feel your arousal building up again as you see the absolute tent in his slacks. Of course the nerd was absolutely hung.

Without another word, his pants and boxers are on the ground. His dick stood hard at attention. It was too heavy to press all the way up towards his stomach. Speaking of stomach, he was absolutely fucking built. He had well-defined solid abs and a broad chest.

You watch carefully as he fists his length a few times. You admire the way the veins bulge from his hands and arms. He wastes no more time: climbing up on top of you. He guides your legs up onto his shoulders, and he leans forward, putting you in a mating press.

His hand suddenly covers your mouth. “Spit.” He orders bluntly.

“W-what-?”

“I didn’t stutter. Spit. Unless you want me to go in dry.”

The thought of that sounded like a nightmare, so you gathered as much saliva into your mouth as you could, and you spat into his hand.

He doesn’t look phased in the slightest as he lubes himself up with your spit. He lets out a soft breath as the wet sounds of him gliding his hand up and down his cock fill the room. He then wipes his hand off on the bed, and he covers your mouth tightly with his hand. “Try not to be too loud, darling. I don’t want anyone to come and bother us.”

He was so fucking confident that he was going to make you noisy. It almost pissed you off, but Nanami was a man of his word.

He aligned himself up with your entrance, and with one deep motion, he buried himself all the way to the hilt. You let out a silent scream into his hand, and your back arches up off the bed. His eyes darken as he lets out a guttural growl.

Your cunt was just too precious to him, squeezing him so perfectly. You were absolutely sopping wet and so goddamn warm. He actually had to bite his tongue to not come prematurely. Once he tasted the hint of metal in his mouth, the urge to finish subsided.

“Shhh, shh. Be a good girl. The pain will subside soon.” He assures you quietly as his hips gently rock back and forth shallowly.

“Mmmnnf~ K-kento!” You moan into his hand. He hates having to muffle your pretty noises, but he really can’t risk getting a noise complaint right now.

“That’s right, darling.. Take it..” His hips start to roll with a bit more conviction. His thrusts are slow but powerful. Each time he buried himself deep in you, you went all dizzy in the head.

“Oh fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” He praises as his other hand holds one of your thighs up for you. Your body is almost slack from how harsh his hips are snapping into you. His leaking tip was bruising your cervix with each brutal thrust.

Nanami wishes he could take a picture right now. Your eyes are all glossed over. Your face is flushed the prettiest shade of pink, and your lips are all puffy and slightly parted. Your babbling utter nonsense as your greedy pussy takes him in with each thrust.

“F-fuck..! So big.. can feel you right here~” You moan as you point towards your lower stomach.

Nanami looks to where you’re pointing, and as if this man needed anymore courage, he begins to fuck you harder.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap!

“Yeah? Y’feel me in your womb, darling?” He groans. Noise complaint can be damned. He lets your mouth go and grabs your hips as he continues to pound your pretty pussy.

Tears involuntarily spring into your eyes from the sheer intensity. When Nanami said he was going to fuck you to tears, you thought it was just a figure of speech. Nah, you were lying in his bed, crying because the dick was so good.

“Look at me.” He demands as he grabs your blushed cheek and forces you to look up at him. “This pussy’s mine from now on, understand me?”

“Y-yes!” You cry out to him. Your stomach starts to coil with white hot pleasure as your orgasm builds up again.

“Tell me you love me when you cum on my cock.” He demands lowly. You’re too fucked stupid to argue.

The bed squeaks and wails in agony as he his thrusts are growing more erratic and sloppy. You could feel him getting closer and closer to his release as he gets more vocal and noisier too.

Your eyes cross as you feel your body gyrate on him. Your second orgasm crashes over you so suddenly you didn’t even have time to warn him. Your soul nearly floats away from you as you feel warm juices flood out from you. “Fuck~.. I-.. I love you, Nanami!” You whimper out. In the heat of the moment, it does feel like love.

Such pure pretty words being uttered during such a lewd time. Nanami is instantly emptying himself into you. His dick throbs as he shoots ribbon after ribbon of cum inside of you. His hands are shaking as they hold onto your hips. “Ngh.. I love you, darling. Take it.. All of it. Don’t waste a drop.” He lowly growls.

The room is quiet as both of you pant softly. After a few moments, you realize you had professed a love to him that you weren’t even sure about. Yes, Nanami was attractive physically and mentally. Sure, he was apparently a god in bed, but love???

What if he wasn’t even being serious when he told you to say that? He probably didn’t even mean it when he said it back. What if you made things weird? Is that why he’s being so silent?

Nanami leans down and presses a small kiss to your forehead. “That was intense. Are you alright, darling?” He asks affectionately.

You nod weakly, not wanting to frustrate him with your insecure thinking style.

“Are you sure? I’m not only talking about physically.” He murmurs softly as he slowly allows for your thighs to slip down to around his hips. His hand carefully strokes your cheek.

“I told you I love you..” You murmur out quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He exhales softly in amusement. “You did do that. It was very sexy. Do you regret saying it?”

“I.. I don’t know.” You confess quietly. “You said it back too…”

“I did. Seeing your body in such a vulnerable state as you were trusting me with your very essence made me feel full with love.”

You look up at him as he just said the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard.

“I don’t think I regret it.”

“I’m glad. I don’t regret it either.” He smiles and presses another small kiss to your temple.

*** *** ***

“Was that really your first time?” You giggle as the hot water coats your body. Nanami’s fingers are attentively massaging shampoo into your scalp.

“It really was.” He laughs quietly. “Why is it so hard to believe.”

“You were too good for a virgin.”

“I’m glad my darling thinks so.” He smiles and carefully leans your head back, so the water can rinse the shampoo from your hair.

“Where did you even learn that stuff from?” You ask curiously, wondering if Nanami just had a secret raging porn addiction.

“I have the horniest friend group. They don’t understand the concept of too much information.”

Ah. That makes sense.

tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog

[fungateshortcakes]

Pornstar!Logan NSFW

This work is inspired by @bpmiranda and their own pornstar!Logan smut, which you can find here. Please go and check it out, it's so yummy and i hope I am doing this idea justice.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: Up until now, filming a porn video was only something you joked about. But after your job failed you, this simple 'joke' brought you to a whole new carreer path that you would love to explore further, especially if your co-worker was this handsome man that ruined your pussy for everyone else.

Wordcount: 2.3k -ish

Warnings/tags: pornstar!Logan, pornstar!reader, porn with plot, first porn recording, filmed sex, best friends dad porn, squirting, unprotected penis in vagina sex, pussy pronouns, implied blowjob, basically sex with a stranger, dirty talk, doggy style, Logan is older than reader, cumming on pussy, perverted director, mention of threesome (F/F/M), english isn't my first languange (lmk if i missed something!)

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It had always been a joke. All of this - you just joked about it. But now as you stood in front of this building, the filming location, that's when you truly knew that it was in fact not a joke anymore.

You were about to cast in your first professional porn video.

For years you had been telling your friends, if your degree didn't work out, you'd start selling nsfw art. If your job applications would keep getting rejected, you would become a stripper. It was always something you and your friends could laugh about greatly, but it was never really taken serious in the end. That was about to change.

Throughout the last months, you had taken this career path more and more into your field of interest. Your hated your job, the salary, the people there and your boss. You needed a quick change. So you read about becoming a porn actress, watched interviews with stars of this industry, stating how they got into it, what they had to do, how they coped with everything at the start and much more. You felt ready, but you also didn't really, not when you stood in front of this building and knew that in just an hour, you would be having a stranger pounding his cock into your pussy while everyone around watched.

You took a deep breath as you entered and upon stating your name at the reception desk, you were brought to the second floor where you were greeted by the director.

"Ah, there you are! You're (Y/N), right?" he said and shook your hand with a firm grip. He was the manager of all of this. He had been in this industry for years and sounded very nice from the very start. You felt comfortable as you stood in front of him. You nodded your head. "Yeah, that's me. I hope I am not too late?" you asked nervously, biting your lip. You really didn't need to leave a bad expression right on the first day.

He laughed and shook his head "No, don't worry. You're just in time to meet the guy you're gonna work with today. You're gonna like him." he said and winked at you. You had already heard a bit about the man that would, to put it as is, fuck you today. They praised him highly, told you that you should be happy to have the opportunity with him because he gets so many requests from porn actresses every day.

Richie shoved you through a crowd of working people to a cozy break corner for the actors. There he stood. And wow. He already wore his outfit for the upcoming video. It was a plain black shirt, a thick belt and rugged jeans, but damn. He looked good.

Upon seeing you, a smirk spread across his lips and he stood up, hands in his pockets. "That's Mr. Howlett. Your lover for today" Richie chuckled as he introduced you to him.

"Call me Logan, sweets. Nice to meet you, heard a lot about ya" Logan said and his voice alone made your pussy throb. You both shook hands and you told him your name as well. It would be a lie if you said you weren't anxious. Your heart was beating out of your throat. You were intimidated by your work partners looks and the fact that he was a lot more experienced in this field than you. He looked very charming and handsome, picture perfect like some famous hollywood actor. And you were just, well, you. You felt like you couldn't compete with that in the slightest.

The time you had to speak to him, get to know him at least a little bit before his cock was in your mouth, was limited, because you were pulled to different stations by different people left and right, getting you into costume, fixing your make-up and hair, even checking if you had shaved down there properly. It was all so much at once, but Logan was always watching over you, weirdly enough, reassuring you. Truth be told, he saw himself when he looked at you. He was pretty confident by nature, but when he first started out in this business, he was overwhelmed and unsure at first as well. So he felt deep sympathy with you, even if you didn't know that.

Now you stood at the set with your two co-stars, Logan and some other woman who you didn't know the name of because she was so minor to the scene. She was only there to play your best friend from college. Your best friend with a smoking hot single father.

Your nerves were killing you as you stood in the pre-build bedroom with your co-star. You took a deep breath and decided to go with the flow. You knew the script, you knew the movements and looks, so there wasn't really anything that could go wrong. Right? "Okay, cameras, lights, action!" Richie yelled over the set. Now there was no going back.

You flopped down on your friends bed with a sigh. "This assigment is killing me. We've been working on it for days now and we aren't getting anywhere" you scoffed. Your on screen friend agreed with you, voicing her anger towards the professor as well.

You started acting like you were starting to unpack your bag when you heard a car engine. Your co-star groaned. "Perfect, now my dad's here. He normally works longer than that" she said. You had never met her dad, he was always at work when you were over. "Lindsay, I'm home!" Logan called before he stepped into the room, stopping in his tracks as he saw you. The camera zoomed in on your slightly shocked face, taking in your agape mouth and how your eyes clouded over. You crossed your leg over the other as warmth spread through your core.

Logan smirked at you, leaning against the doorframe. "So, you are the girl my daughter has been doing that assigment with, I assume? Nice to meet you, I'm her old man." he spoke in his deep voice, extending a warm, strong hand out for you to shake, a knowing look being shared between you as he eyed you up and down, pratically undressing you with his gaze only.

The director yelled cut. You let out a nervous sigh. This worked out way better than you had imagined, but that was just the easy part of this whole thing.

Though, the second Logan pushed the tip of his cock into your sopping pussy with a relieved smile on his lips that wasn't part of the script, you couldn't care less about your insecurities or worries. The words you were supposed to say just came naturally with the way he fucked you open. "Such a greedy little cunt, she is practically sucking me in" he groaned, one hand pushing your head into the pillows of his daughters bed.

"You really needed this, huh? Needed a big fucking cock to pound your pussy. The boys in college just don't cut it, am I right?" He groaned, enjoying the way your pussy tightened around his throbbing shaft. How could a cock feel this good? Logan could ask you the same thing - how could a fucking pussy be this tight and warm and just sopping wet?

Logan watched your face being squished against the pillows, slurring your words while you drooled. He smirked. You were made for this, the camera was eating you up like this. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about using this video when he was at home to get off. He leaned down to your ear, his plush lips kissing and biting at the shell before he whispered something only for you to hear "What a natural you are. Gotta have to request you as my partner more often from now on, don't I?" he was whispering in such a hot, breathless voice, it almost made you cum before you even should. He could feel that. And oh boy did it feed his ego.

"Does it turn you on? Being fucked on your best friends bed? By her dad?" Logan rumbled in character, kneading your tits. It took you a while to get a hold of your thoughts and the script, so Logan used that silence to keep whispering in your ear how fucking pretty your tits were. "Y-yes! I...I love it" you slurred, your voice raw from the moans you couldn't hold back for the life of you.

Logan hummed pleased. "Oh I bet you do, baby. Already so cockdrunk for me"

Your pussy felt so good with the way he was dragging his cock in and out, reaching places inside you you didn't knew existed. It was funny to you - you were supposed to fake moan and falsely contort your face in pleasure - but you didn't have to do any of that. If anything, you needed to shut up. You were moaning so loud and so prettily for Logan, it was almost excessive. You just couldn't help yourself. Every time you tried to shut your mouth, Logan would notice and pound into your sweet spot. He couldn't have you denying him of your cute sounds.

Not long and the scene ended with you squirting all over his cock and the sheets. That wasn't initially meant to happen, but with the way Logan was fucking you, you lost control as your orgasm hit. Logan tried to mask his surprise by going off script, continuing to circle your clit "Yes, such a good girl. Keep making a mess for me, baby" he groaned into your neck. You squirmed in his grasp, the overstimulation too much as you felt him cumming over your pussy. He hadn't expected you squirting, but it served perfectly to make him cum like he hadn't in a while.

Richie yelled cut again and Logan let go of your hips, making you fall flat onto the drenched sheets, completely boneless. You could hear faint applause and a warm hand on your back. As Richie approached the bed, Logan was quick to bring you his fluffy robe and wrapped it around you aftwr helping your shaken form to sit up, shielding you from prying eyes. The crew was highly professional for the most part, but there were some creeps shamelessly goggling at the actresses, especially newcomers. Sometimes Richie was one of them...

So Logan had a protective hand around your back, sprawled over your waist to keep you pressed into his side while you regained your composure. You were tired and worn out, but in a very very good way. Your core buzzed with warmth and so did the rest of your body. Without realising, you leaned your head onto Logans shoulders, softly closing your eyes for a moment. It made his heart skip a beat.

"Jesus Christ, you two were really going at it, huh?" Richie grinned and clapped his hands together. "I am deeply impressed with you, rookie. The camera loved you. Didn't even have to correct you at all. Can't believe you haven't done this before" the middle aged man chuckled and tried to discreetly pear down your cleavage to which Logan covered your upper body a bit more, staring Richie down. You didn't feel all too safe now, especially in your slight dazed state. But Logan was there and somehow being able to nuzzle into him for protection eased your mind greatly. "You two can go and take a break. I have Mirinda, Mandy and Josh for the next sesh. But after that, I'd like to see you both in action again. Maybe with another woman as well, how would you like that?"

Logan declined for you with a slight bite to his voice, excusing you and himself after he had wrapped a towel around his hips and brought you to his dressing room. Richie wasn't a bad man. But he was far from being appropriate at times. It happened rarely and mostly only to actresses who had been in this industry for years, but they knew how to treat directors like him for rude staring not to happen. But you were still so young and inexperienced with everything, so anxious and nervous. Logan wanted to protect that. Protect you. The industry was tough and he didn't want you to break under all of this like he did in the beginning himself.

"Thank you for uhm...getting me out of there" you mumbled as you began to dress yourself again with the clothes you had arrived in. You chuckled to yourself as Logan turned around when you put on your bra and underwear as if he hadn't just conpletely seen you bare and ruined you for every other man.

He scoffed. "Not for that. It was the least I could do. Sometimes he gets a bit creepy, but he his decent. He doesn't do more than stare, fortunately. Still, I'm sorry you had to endure that on your first day. But that's, sadly, how it is" he answered, pulling his shirt over his head and you shamelessly watched his muscles dip and contract from his movements.

You buttoned up your blouse and shrugged. "I expected it, honestly. But you were my knight in shining armor, or lack there of-" you laughed and Logan couldn't help but chuckle alongside you. "- so it wasn’t that bad. At least the sex was good"

Logan smirked. "It was?" he asked with a cocky undertone. He knew that it was, but hearing it from you directly made his chest flutter. Not that he would ever admit that. You nodded with a hum, slightly chewing on your bottom lip.

"I have to say the same. You have a great pussy" he blurts out, making both of you laugh. "There is more where that came from, lover boy" it was very easy to be comfortable around Logan and it made you feel a little less lost. It made you feel like you had a guiding hand and you were so grateful that he was there. It wasn’t his job to be your caretaker, he wasn't getting paid to tell you how to do things or protect you from backhanded nasty comments from filming crew members. But you were glad he instantly took you under his wing like this.

You couldn't wait to shoot with him again

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I had so much fun writing this! Let me hear your thoughts, do you want a part two?

And don't be scared, there is also going to be more sub!Logan soon and a few fluff drabbles as well. Stay tuned!

[rafedarling]

queen have u seen the new photos of Drew. 🤭🤭

dad!Drew x reader where like it’s the blue suit red carpet and the whole family is in italy together and reader thinks drew looks so yummy so it’s like smut where they get back to the hotel and they have to be quiet AF

yass girl and not gonna lie, he looks fucking hot !

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐤𝐲

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader summary: at the venice film festival 2024, drew and you, both acclaimed actors, make a stunning appearance on the red carpet for the premiere of the new movie, ‘queer’. your two-year-old twin daughters, ophelia and olympia, accompany you and drew, captivating everyone with their sweet presence. after the event, the starkey returns to their luxurious hotel suite, where, after putting the girls to bed, you and drew indulges in a passionate, intimate moment, trying to keep quiet as your daughters sleeping in the room next door. | word count: 2,8k warning(s): english is not my native language. 18+, smut, piv, creampie, cum play, sexual content, language, MINOR DNI!!

au: fill this form if you want to be tag. like, reblog & reply or much appreciated! tagging: @rafeyslamb

As the sun was setting over Venice, casting the city in a warm, golden glow as you and Drew Starkey arrived at the Venice Film Festival. The air buzzed with excitement as stars from around the world gathered to celebrate the premiere of QUEER, a film that had garnered significant attention for its bold storytelling and representation. Tonight, you and Drew were not just co-stars but partners, sharing the spotlight with your two-year-old twin daughters, Ophelia and Olympia.

As you stepped onto the red carpet, the cameras flashed, capturing the perfect image of a beautiful family. Drew looked stunning in a deep navy suit, the black lapels adding a sharp contrast that highlighted his chiseled features. His hair was styled just so, a little tousled, giving him an effortlessly handsome look. You wore a flowing, elegant gown that complemented Drew’s suit perfectly, the fabric shimmering under the lights as you walked hand in hand.

Ophelia and Olympia were dressed in matching white dresses, their blonde curls bouncing with every step as they clung to your hands, their little faces a mixture of awe and curiosity. They had been to events before, but nothing quite like this. The sheer scale of the festival, the grandeur of the venue, and the attention from the media were overwhelming for anyone, let alone two toddlers. Yet, they handled it with the grace of seasoned professionals, waving shyly at the cameras, their innocent smiles melting the hearts of everyone watching.

As you posed for photos, Drew leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You look incredible tonight,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, glancing at him from beneath your lashes. “But I think the girls are stealing the show.”

Drew chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at Ophelia and Olympia. “They are, aren’t they? Just like their mom—beautiful and captivating.”

The interviews followed, and as usual, Drew handled the press with charm and ease. The reporters were eager to hear about your experiences on set, the dynamics of working together as a couple, and of course, how you managed to balance your careers with raising your daughters. Drew’s answers were thoughtful and sincere, emphasizing how much he valued the time spent with his family, both on and off the set.

“They’re the reason I do this,” he said, glancing at you and the girls with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Having them here with me tonight makes it all the more special.”

The night continued with more photos, more interviews, and a palpable sense of anticipation for the premiere. But as much as you enjoyed the spotlight, the most important part of the evening was the shared experience with Drew and your daughters. You could see the pride in Drew’s eyes every time he looked at you or the girls, a silent acknowledgment of the journey you had been on together.

After the screening of QUEER, which was met with a standing ovation, the four of you were whisked back to your hotel in a sleek black car. The night air was cool and refreshing, a welcome contrast to the heat of the cameras and the lights of the red carpet. Ophelia and Olympia, who had been little stars all evening, were starting to show signs of fatigue. Their little eyes drooped, and they leaned heavily against you and Drew, their tiny bodies growing limp with exhaustion.

Back at the hotel, you and Drew worked together to get the girls ready for bed. The suite was spacious and luxurious, with a separate bedroom for the twins. After helping them out of their dresses and into their pajamas, you read them a story, your voice soft and soothing as they snuggled into their beds. Drew sat beside you, one arm draped around your shoulders, his other hand gently stroking Olympia’s hair as her eyes slowly closed.

Ophelia was the first to fall asleep, her hand clutching her favorite stuffed bunny. Olympia held out a little longer, her eyes fluttering open and closed until finally, she gave in to sleep. You and Drew sat there for a moment longer, watching your daughters’ peaceful faces, their soft breathing filling the room with a sense of calm.

Finally, you and Drew quietly left the room, closing the door behind you with a gentle click. The suite was silent, the only sounds the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint noise of the city outside. You leaned against the door, your eyes meeting Drew’s across the room.

“They were amazing tonight,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips.

Drew walked over to you, his gaze intense as he cupped your face in his hands. “They take after their mother,” he said softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You were incredible too. I’m so proud of you.”

You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks at his words. “Thank you,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Drew’s eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “We finally have some time to ourselves,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “What do you want to do?”

A shiver of anticipation ran down your spine at the implication in his tone. You slid your hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. “I can think of a few things,” you replied, your voice breathless as you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

Drew responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours as he pressed you against the door. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the intense need that was building between you. His hands roamed your body, expertly undoing the zipper of your dress and letting it fall to the floor in a soft rustle of fabric.

You broke the kiss just long enough to help him out of his jacket and shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you undid the buttons. Drew’s hands found your waist, pulling you close as he kissed you again, more urgently this time, his need for you growing with every passing second.

He backed you towards the bed, his hands never leaving your body as he guided you onto the soft mattress. The cool sheets contrasted with the heat of his skin as he hovered above you, his gaze raking over your body with a look of pure adoration.

“You’re so beautiful,” Drew whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he kissed a trail down your neck, his lips leaving a burning path on your skin. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You arched into his touch, your fingers threading through his hair as he continued his descent, his mouth hot against your collarbone. “Drew...” you moaned softly, your voice trembling with need as you felt him reach for the clasp of your bra, expertly undoing it and tossing it aside.

He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours as he gently cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, making you gasp. Drew smiled at your reaction, clearly pleased with himself as he dipped his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

Your back arched off the bed at the sensation, a moan escaping your lips as you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, every nerve in your body on high alert as Drew lavished attention on your breasts, his hands and mouth working in perfect harmony to drive you wild.

After what felt like an eternity of blissful torment, Drew continued his journey downward, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach, his hands guiding your hips as he slowly pulled your panties down, leaving you completely exposed to him. He paused for a moment, his eyes darkening with lust as he took in the sight of you, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as he gently spread your legs, positioning himself between them.

You bit your lip, anticipation building as you felt the heat of his breath against your most sensitive area. “Drew, please...” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need.

He didn’t make you wait any longer. With a low growl of desire, he dipped his head, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you, your hips bucking involuntarily as you moaned his name. Drew’s hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he continued to pleasure you, his tongue and lips working together to drive you closer and closer to the edge.

You clung to the sheets, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations as Drew brought you to the brink of ecstasy. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it any longer, he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours as he inserted a finger inside you, the sensation of his long, skilled fingers pushing you over the edge.

You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm as Drew continued to work you through it, his fingers and mouth never stopping until you were completely spent, your body going limp with exhaustion.

Drew climbed back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss as he positioned himself at your entrance. You were still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, but the feel of him so close, so ready, reignited the fire inside you.

You wrapped your legs around Drew’s waist, pulling him closer as he hovered above you, his breath warm and ragged against your lips. His eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of love, desire, and admiration swirling within them. He held himself there, just at your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

“Are you ready?” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, unable to find the words as anticipation coursed through your veins. The look in his eyes was enough to send another shiver of pleasure down your spine. You could feel him, hot and hard, pressing against you, and the need to have him inside you was almost unbearable.

“Please,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. “I need you, Drew.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a slow, deliberate movement, Drew pushed forward, filling you inch by inch. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and pressure as he stretched you, your bodies fitting together like they were made for each other. You both moaned as he entered you fully, the feeling of him deep inside you almost overwhelming.

Drew paused, his forehead resting against yours as he took a moment to savor the sensation, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“So do you,” you replied breathlessly, your hands gripping his shoulders as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. The connection between you was palpable, an unspoken bond that had only deepened over time. Every touch, every movement felt like a promise, a testament to the love you shared.

Drew started to move, slow and steady at first, his thrusts deep and measured. Each movement sent ripples of pleasure through your body, building a delicious tension that made you gasp and cling to him even tighter. His hands roamed your body, one settling on your hip to guide your movements, the other brushing the hair away from your face as he kissed you deeply.

The kiss was passionate, filled with the kind of raw, unfiltered emotion that only came from years of love and trust. You could feel the intensity of his feelings in the way he kissed you, in the way he held you close as if you were the most precious thing in the world. It was more than just physical; it was a connection of souls, a merging of hearts.

As Drew’s thrusts became more urgent, the pace quickened, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of another orgasm. He seemed to sense it too, his movements becoming more purposeful, his hand slipping between your bodies to find that sensitive bundle of nerves that he knew would push you over the edge.

When he touched you there, the sensation was electric, your body responding instantly as pleasure exploded within you. You cried out his name in silece, your back arching off the bed as the orgasm ripped through you, your body trembling with the force of it. Drew didn’t stop, his movements relentless as he continued to drive into you, prolonging your pleasure until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

Finally, with a few more powerful thrusts, Drew followed you over the edge, his own release coming with a guttural groan as he buried himself deep inside you. You could feel the warmth of his release, the pulsing of his body against yours as he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving with exertion.

For a moment, the two of you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, both of you trying to catch your breath as the aftershocks of pleasure continued to ripple through your bodies. The room was filled with the sounds of your breathing, mingling together in the stillness of the night.

Drew finally lifted his head to look at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. He reached up to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek as he smiled down at you. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with sincerity.

You smiled back at him, your heart swelling with love. “I love you, Drew” you replied, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. “I love you, Drew.”

“I love you too,” he whispered back, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. It was a kiss filled with all the love and affection he couldn’t put into words, a promise that he would always be there for you, no matter what.

He rolled over, pulling you with him so that you were lying on his chest, your legs still entwined. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that lulled you into a state of contentment. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let you go.

The two of you lay there in silence for a while, simply enjoying the closeness, the feel of each other’s bodies pressed together. The world outside might have been filled with the glitz and glamour of the festival, but in that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s love.

Eventually, Drew shifted slightly, his hand running up and down your back in a soothing motion. “We should probably get some sleep,” he murmured, though there was a note of reluctance in his voice. “The girls will be up early.”

You chuckled softly, knowing he was right. As much as you wanted to stay in this moment forever, the responsibilities of parenthood would call soon enough. “Yeah,” you agreed, though you made no move to get up just yet.

Drew smiled, tightening his hold on you. “We’ll have plenty of nights like this,” he promised, his voice filled with certainty. “Plenty of moments where it’s just you and me.”

You nodded, feeling a warm sense of contentment settle over you. “I’m looking forward to it,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest before finally, reluctantly, rolling off of him.

You both moved slowly, the exhaustion from the day and the intensity of your lovemaking catching up with you. Drew helped you pull the covers up over your bodies, his arm wrapping around you once more as you settled against his side. The bed was warm and comfortable, and you could feel yourself drifting off almost immediately, the events of the day a pleasant blur in your mind.

As you closed your eyes, you felt Drew press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Goodnight, my love,” he whispered, his voice the last thing you heard before sleep claimed you.

“Goodnight,” you murmured back, a smile on your lips as you finally surrendered to the peaceful darkness.

And with that, you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

[evansbby]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Pete Brenner x reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, SH in the workplace, heavy drug mention, sleazy Pete, heavy misogyny, I can't believe I wrote this, a lot of sex, yeah idek, 18+ minors dni. 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Pete Brenner hires a new assistant. 𝐀/𝐍: I cannot believe I wrote this. For him. Ew. Brb gonna go take a shower. This is pretty bad as well, like the pacing is wack and the reader's personality changes halfway through the fic?? Idek, I did this thing where I changed the scene every time I felt bored. Enjoy, I guess???

“Just so we’re clear, I’m only hiring you because you’re hot.”

He bends down over his desk, sniffing harshly. You stand there nervously watching him as he straightens up, his nose twitching. You catch a glimpse of white beneath he clears his throat and wipes it off. His eyes – a pretty blue – have an almost wild, excited look about them. But the rest of his face is a contradiction… he looks both calculated and amused as he licks his lips and makes his way over to you.

“That means I want to see you in short skirts, dress, that kind of shit, okay? And some pretty makeup.” His eyes dance over your body, taking in your curves. You’d worn a knee-length pencil skirt and white blouse for the interview with him – nothing too scandalous but it did hug your body nicely. Pete seemed to think so, at least, as his gaze remained glued on your cleavage, “Basically, I want you all dolled up because I sure as fuck know there’s no brain up there in your head. I have a real assistant, but you’ll be my other assistant.”

Other assistant. You knew what that meant.

You also know to remain quiet as he leers at you, coming closer till you have to crane your neck to look up at him. His jaw twitches, and his eyes are still glued to your chest. He reaches out, casually unbuttoning the top few buttons of your blouse with just his one hand. The view down your top makes him smirk.

“Tomorrow’s your first day, make sure to wear something sluttier than this. Even the office’s eye candy’s gotta put a little work in, huh, sweetheart?” He gives you a wink as he pats your cheek condescendingly.

You take a deep breath and try to remain calm. You needed this job. You needed the money…

“Yes, Mr. Brenner.”

“Good girl,” he maintains eye contact with you, and it’s hard to look away when his pupils are so blown out. And despite his leery demeanour, he’s got a handsome face, you had to admit. Pretty eyes framed with long lashes, a nice bone structure and strong jawline. His jet-black hair was styled messily – either on purpose or because he kept running his hands through it. He was also tall, his tailored jacket tight around his biceps.

He gives your ass a slap as you leave the room, and you yelp in surprise but continue walking steadily lest you fall over in your high heels.

“See you bright and early tomorrow, sweetheart! I know we’re gonna love working together.”

***

“Ah, fuck yeah, keep going. Mm, just like that. God fucking dammit, you’re such a good little cocksucker, huh?”

Pete’s got one hand firmly carded through your hair, gripping it tightly as he bobs your head up and down on his cock. It’s uncomfortable under his desk, especially with your bare knees rubbing against the hard ground.

You’d showed up to your first day of work today bright and early, in an inappropriately short dress as per your new boss’s request. And Pete had licked his lips hungrily when he’d seen you, dragging you into his office and giving you your first task of the day. Sucking his dick while he sat behind his desk.

“Yeah, that’s right, you little slut, take it. Take my fat daddy dick down your little throat. Fuck yeah,” Pete murmurs. You’d quickly come to realise that Pete was every bit as filthy as you’d assumed he was going to be, spewing out a string of curses every time his mouth opened. He was also rougher than you’d expected, fucking your face relentlessly in a way that had you breathless, your hair a complete mess and your face glistening with sweat.

“Mm, tell me you’re a little cockslut,” He peers down at you with a wolfish grin, taking his dick out of your mouth and tapping your cheek with it not-so-gently.

“ ‘m a cockslut,” you pant, and he slaps you with his cock once more before shoving himself back in your mouth.

“That’s right, just look at those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I can’t believe–” his voice trails off, and you glance up to see his eyes narrow as he looks out the window of his office and into the hallway. “Ah, shit. My wife’s here. Keep sucking, baby, but be quiet about it.”

He had a wife? You don’t even have time to feel shocked and disgusted with yourself, all you can do is keep bobbing your head up and down as he keeps a firm hold on you.

“PETEY!” A chirpy voice sounds, and you cringe as you hear the door close. She was in this office, while you were giving her husband a blowjob.

“Hey, babe, how’s it hanging?” Pete says casually, his hand leaving your hair as he cracks his knuckles and leans back on his chair. You pray to God his wife doesn’t come any closer, lest you be found out.

She giggles, “Well, come on, silly. You made us lunch reservations at the Rustica Bistro, remember? I got my nails done and everything!”

You hear Pete grimace from above you, either from what his wife has just said or the fact that you’re still blowing him like your life depends on it.

“Ahh, babe, I gotta take a raincheck. You know how it is…” He gestures vaguely at his computer in front of him, “I’ve got a shit ton of work to do, fuck…” He swears under his breath, thrusting his hips upwardly subtly to stuff more of his cock in your mouth.

“Aww, but Pete–”

“No buts, sweetheart. You know I gotta provide for you and the baby, and that means making a few sacrifices here and there,” Pete runs a hand through his hair, and you can see the sweat forming on his brow as you continue to suck him off, trying not to gasp out loud at the fact that he just said he had a baby. “But don’t let those reservations go to waste, sweetie. Why not take what’s-her-name? That broad from accounting?”

“Sally?”

“Yeah, take Sally. Go on, sweetheart, daddy’s busy. I’ll see you at home.”

You’re in awe at how he dismisses his wife, but you inwardly sigh in relief when you hear the clickity clack of her heels followed by the door opening and closing. Pete barks out a laugh, pulling you off his dick as he begins to pump it around his fist.

“That was a close one, huh?”

“Y-You never mentioned that you had a wife! And a child!”

He snorts, cupping your face and angling it so that he’s jacking off over it, a nonchalant look on his face.

“And you accepted a job as the office slut, so I guess we’re both lacking in the morals department, huh, sweetheart?”

***

Being Pete Brenner’s other assistant did have a few perks. Like free reign with his credit card (a separate one that his wife didn’t know about) as well as some nice gifts here and there. Diamond earrings when he was feeling nice; a designer dress when he wanted to be giving. A pearl-encrusted collar when he was on a particularly high power trip.

But the perks came with a lot of degradation. But it’s not like he hadn’t made that clear when he’d offered you the job.

“Now, sweetheart, all you gotta do is refill everyone’s water while us men talk business, alright?”

You nod, straightening out your tight, navy dress while Pete barks out more instructions as he paces around his office. Today was an important meeting about something or the other. You didn’t really understand what it was that Pete did, but you knew it was something to do with pharmaceuticals. You weren’t sure that all their business was legal, but you thought it was best to turn your head the other way when it came to all that.

You stand in the corner of the conference room during the meeting, watching as Pete sits at the head of the table and talks business with a bunch of colleagues. He looks at you and nods slightly, and that’s your cue to walk around and refill everyone’s water with the glass jug in your hand. It’s an easy enough task, but you’re still nervous in your sky-high heels and too-short dress, acutely aware of the way all these middle-aged men leer at you like you’re a piece of candy or an office decoration.

You set the jug down on the table after you’ve finished topping up Pete’s glass, but before you can quietly scurry back to your corner of the room, his large hand wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You almost yelp in surprise, but catch your tongue just in time. You go with the flow, not wanting to cause a scene as Pete casually settles you down on his knee.

You really feel like a decoration now.

“That’s a fine-looking piece of ass you’ve got workin’ for ya, Brenner.” A seedy looking man at the other end of the table grins.

Pete smirks, his hand firmly resting on your bare thigh as you quiver in his lap at the multiple pairs of eyes now staring straight at you. His other hand twirls a bit of your hair round his finger, as if you’re his little doll that he’s finding amusement in showing off and toying with. “She’s a looker, alright. That’s why I hired her, isn’t that right, baby?”

You have no choice but to nod, heat spreading across your cheeks as the whole room erupts in laughter. Pete holds you firmly in his lap throughout the meeting. You try to zone out, since their business and pharmaceutical jargon makes no sense to you, but you keep getting jolted back to reality as Pete continues to fondle you brazenly in front of everyone.

“Don’t think I’d get any work done if I had a broad like her walking around in my office.” A greasy looking man sitting adjacent from you and Pete pipes up.

Pete grins wolfishly, his hand creeping up the hem of your dress while the other one strokes your arm sensually. “Quite the opposite, actually,” he glances at you and winks, “with her around, I get to relieve all my pent-up tension, which makes work a lot easier.”

“Say, Brenner, you look like you gotta relieve some tension right now!” Another guy quips.

Pete smirks, standing up and yanking you up with him, “You’re right, Davidson. I think I do. You gentlemen mind if we take a recess on this meeting?”

His request is met with a chorus of cheerful affirmations, and he drags you off to a small door to the side of the room. The bathroom.

“Th-They’ll all be able to hear us!” You protest as he bends you over the sink, lifting your dress up and giving your bare ass a hard slap.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. It’s hotter with an audience.” He shoves his hand between your legs, pushing your panties aside and slipping two fingers inside you, smirking when he pulls them out to see them glistening, “clearly you find it hot too.”

Pete fucks you in the bathroom while the men cheer him on from the next room. And you scrunch your eyes shut and focus on trying not to moan (because he fucked you so good after all). His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts into you over again, alongside a string of curses (he was always very vocal during sex, no matter where you were).

He’s got a smug look on his face when he’s done. The smugness of a man who made a whole roomful of men hear your screams of pleasure. (You’d had to be vocal in the end, you couldn’t help it. Not when he was rubbing your clit and whispering dirty words in your ear, making your cunt squeeze around him as you came all over his cock).

He takes you straight back into the conference room, setting you down on his lap and continuing the meeting as if nothing even happened.

***

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

You do, only for him to cup your cheeks and blow smoke right into your face. You sputter, trying to turn away but Pete’s got other plans. He presses his lips against yours, giving you the headiest kiss you’ve ever experienced, making you feel light-headed.

He laughs, “You fall for it every time.”

You scowl at him, “One day I’m gonna quit working for you.”

He snorts, taking another drag of his cigarette, “Oh yeah, sweetheart? And then what’re you gonna do?”

“Make a name for myself.”

He seems to find that hilarious, throwing his head back and laughing as if you’ve just cracked the funniest joke in the world. You huff, shrugging away from him and going to stand on the other end of the balcony. It was attached to his office and Pete liked to hang out there sometimes, claimed he appreciated the fresh air. As if he didn’t have a cigarette hanging out of his mouth 24/7.

You look out into the city, admiring the bright lights that made the streets come to life at night. The sound of traffic and the mindless buzz of nightlife that had a knack of making people wonder what they were doing with their life. That’s when you feel something hard pressing against your lower back.

“You know, I always wanted to fuck a girl out here.” Pete pushes your hair to one side, kissing the exposed nape of your neck.

“I’d bet a thousand dollars you’d already have done that.”

He chuckles, his hands slipping up and down your body, feeling you up and fondling you in his specifically sleazy way except it turns you on anyways. “After tonight I will have.”

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be at home with your wife? Or at least your baby?”

He pushes your dress up till he’s got it bunched around your waist, before hooking his fingers on the elastic of your panties and snapping it against your skin. “What, you think you’re gonna peptalk me into having some kind of moral breakthrough or something?” He tugs your panties down your legs and gives your ass a squeeze, “Sweetheart, you know the kind of man I am. And I know exactly the kind of girl you are.”

The kind that lets her boss fuck her outside on his balcony overlooking the city.

“Fuck yeah, shake that fucking ass on my daddy dick. Make daddy cum, fuck!” Pete grips your hair and yanks your head back, biting and sucking at your neck as he fucks you. You grip the iron railing hard, your mind wiped of everything except the pleasure he was administering to you right now.

“Mm, fuck, daddy! Harder, please!” You moan, grinding back against his dick, feeling the pure, delicious agony of him breaking you in two from the inside out.

He releases inside you with a guttural roar in your ear, and you sigh, following suit as you milk him through his orgasm. Your cunt pulsates with your pleasure, and he holds you tight before bringing his cigarette up to your mouth so you can take a drag. You do, before craning your neck and grabbing his face, blowing the smoke straight past his lips as you kiss him.

***

“The fuck do you mean you’re knocked up? Were you not on the motherfucking pill?”

You sigh. You’d been fucking Pete for half a year now, and in that time you’d had the pleasure of getting to know him on a very personal level. His likes, dislikes, his temperament. You knew him well enough to know that he got extremely melodramatic when he was high. Which is why it maybe wasn’t the best decision on your part to break the news to him when he was coked out, but you’d had no choice… Pete’s sober moments were very few and far between these days.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Pete. I’m pregnant. I took three tests.”

“God-fucking-dammit!” He slams his fist down on his desk repeatedly, before the pain proves too much and that’s when he straightens up, running a hand through his already messy black hair. “I already got my hands full with one brat.”

He loved his son, really. You’d seen him enough times with the kid to know that Pete did indeed have a heart when it came to a child of his own flesh and blood.

“Well, congratulations, daddy. In about nine months, you’ll have another one.”

He narrows his eyes, stumbling over to you and grabbing you by the neck. He pushes back, high off his mind yet still much stronger than you. His lips curled and brows furrowed almost accusatorily, he backs you up against the wall, his face inches from yours.

“You,” he sneers, “When did you get so cynical, huh? Where’s the bright-eyed, naïve girl I hired six months ago?”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t know, Pete, maybe your sleaziness and depravity killed her off.”

He glares at you, and you glare back. It’s an intense stare-down that lasts a handful of seconds before you’re on top of each other. Kissing and ripping each other’s clothes off, not caring that the glass windows of his office aren’t covered with the blinds. The receptionist would get a show, but it was nothing she hadn’t seen before. Pete had no shame, and now, neither did you.

“I find pregnant broads sexy as hell,” he tells you, carrying you over to his desk. He sits down on his chair with you on top of him, “so that’s one thing to look forward to.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“So the fuck are you.”

He shoves his dick into you from below, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly you know he’ll leave bruises. He bounces you up and down on his dick like it’s your job – which, well, it is.

“Your tits will get even bigger, that’s another thing to look forward to,” he whispers in your ear, ripping the top of your dress in half and pushing the cups of your bra down. Your breasts spill out and he goes to town on them, burying his face between them, licking, nipping, biting like you’re his drug of choice for the evening.

You’re confused, scared, even. But that won’t stop you from answering back to him, and so, despite the pleasure he’s making you feel, you shoot him a look of disdain.

“Who says I’m gonna stick around long enough for you to see me like that?”

He yanks you forward by your hair, giving you a rough and almost possessive kiss.

“Sweetheart, don’t kid yourself. I intend on keeping your fine ass around, and besides, it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.”

***

“I do.”

Pete’s wife had left him. Something about running away with a hot Australian lifeguard who happened to also have a hefty trust fund. The divorce was settled quickly (Pete had more money than his now ex-wife was even aware of, so she happily took what she thought was an equal half). Pete had one condition, though. His son had to stay with him.

And then six months later, you found yourself walking down the aisle in a dress of ivory lace, saying “I do” to the man who only a year ago had just been your boss. Now you were the new Mrs. Brenner, a mother to be and a stepmother to a two-year-old to boot.

It was a good thing you liked kids.

“You’re lucky, you know that? Fucked your way to the very top.” Pete says, his hand stroking your very pregnant belly.

You giggle, spreading out on the satin sheets below you. They’re soft and white and expensive, covered in rose petals. Pete had gone all out and booked the honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons, which was the least he could do to make you comfortable after you’d gone through that whole wedding ceremony and reception, all pregnant and uncomfortable and all.

“Not the very top,” you muse, “I could leave you just like your first wife did. Leave you for a richer man.”

Pete scoffs, shrugging his jacket off before rejoining you on the bed, “Honey, if you knew how much money I had in my bank account right now, you’d be licking the bottom of my shoe for the foreseeable future.”

You don’t say anything, instead turning your attention to your ring. You hold up your hand so it catches the light, the hefty diamond sparkling expensively. Just a year ago, you couldn’t even fathom having fifty dollars to your name… And now?

You grow distracted by his hand as it sneaks between your legs. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan when his fingers find your clit. All he has to do is circle your bundle of nerves with his pointer finger and you cum, grabbing his bicep and squealing his name, humping your cunt up against his palm like a wanton whore. All while he grins wolfishly at how easily he can make you come undone.

“It’s just ‘cause I’m pregnant,” you say once you’ve caught your breath, causing his expression to sour.

“Please, Mrs. Brenner. You’ve never had anyone as good as your husband. And you never will, ‘cause it’s all me from now on, you got that?”

“Yes, daddy.”

***

“Oh my gosh, you really shouldn’t have!” You squeal, running over to your new candy pink convertible. Pete stands by the hood, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Only the best for my wife. Now you can do the day-care runs in style.”

You jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing a million kisses on his face. “Thank you, daddy! I love it so much.”

He grins, spinning you around a few times before putting you down, “Happy birthday, babe.”

Your four-year-old son and two-year-old daughter come toddling down the front steps of your mansion, squealing and ooh-ing and aah-ing at your new pink car. Pete looks positively beside himself with glee, scooping both his kids up in his arms so they can get a better look at it.

It only took a few months into being married to you for Pete to realise that he liked the family man lifestyle. And you could tell he liked being a provider, liked showering his family with gifts and spending money on you and the babies more than blowing it all on drugs and strip clubs. It was a shame that it took him two marriages and two different baby mamas to realise that, but at least his ex was living it up in Australia, so there was no love lost there.

“We need to come up with a story when people ask us how we met,” you say one evening as the two of you get ready for bed. You’re sitting in front of your vanity, applying cold cream to your face and neck while Pete does God knows what in the background.

“Easy. My gold-digger assistant got herself knocked up and trapped my ass, and now here we are.” Pete smirks, coming up behind you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Shut up, you jerk. More like, I took advantage of and sexually harassed my poor, innocent assistant, and the least I could do was marry her after I got her pregnant.” You smile, letting him grab your hand and drag you to the bed.

“Okay, poor, innocent assistant. Why don’t you let daddy put another baby inside you tonight?” He asks, pushing you down on the bed and climbing on top of you, his voice thick with lust as he runs a hand through his messy, black hair.

“So you can accuse me of getting knocked up again?”

“Yeah,” He rips your nightie in half, making you squeal, “That’ll ensure I’m trapped with you for another two years at least.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’ve got the dirtiest mouth, Mrs. Brenner. Maybe that’s why I’m in love with you.”

SFJHKASGD THE END!

If you made it till here... thank you! I think I got possessed last night and today so I wrote this. Sorry besties, but please do let me know what you think! Feedback means everything to me!! I love you guys and now back to our regularly scheduled programming of ARI and STEVE!

[gurugirl]

Better Man | boyfriend's brother!harry | a preview

NEW PATREON SERIES OUT NOW!

Patreon Series Synopsis: Y/n's dating Dante - the charming, handsome, and most beloved Styles brother. From the outside, he looks like the perfect boyfriend. But behind closed doors, things aren't so sweet.

Dante's older brother, Harry, is his opposite. He's a bit rough around the edges, rarely cracks a smile at all, and he intimidates most people. Y/n typically keeps her distance but lately, they keep being brought together and she soon realizes that underneath Harry's hard exterior is a gentle soul with a lot of love to give.

. .

The breeze was warm, the music from inside steadily bleeding out into the night around them, while she shared a cigarette with a man she knew almost nothing about.

“Dante’s gonna kill me,” Y/n said quietly, her eyes wandering back up toward the handsome mysterious Styles brother as he wrapped his lips around the filter and inhaled.

Harry dropped the butt, blew out a breath of smoke, and stepped on it, “You tell him everything?”

She looked up again at the starry sky. The answer was no; She hadn't been telling Dante much at all lately.

“He'll smell the smoke,” she said, still gazing at the constellations. Glancing at him she realized he’d been watching her. She warmed, every inch of her skin growing hot.

“Come here, let's see,” something easy and charming wove through his deep voice.

Her heart skittered to a stop. She didn't know what it was about Harry that made her feel like her skin would burst into flame right then. Was it because he was finally paying her attention? It wasn't as if she'd ever craved for his attention before.

Without thinking too hard on it, she began to move toward him, like a moth to flame. It felt illicit. But technically they were doing nothing wrong.

She held her breath when his hand rested on her wrist. His grip tightened as he pulled her close enough that she could smell his cologne. Her pulse beat in her throat, and his hand was so hot, spreading warmth up her arm and down to the pit of her stomach, that she hardly noticed him leaning in, brushing his face against her hair.

“No smoke,” the words were smooth with a rough edge, the heat of his breath winding down her neck.

His palm slid from her wrist to her fingertips before he pulled away, leaving a trail of fire down her arm. He pushed off the wall, and she took a step back and out of his way. Walking toward the door, he stopped and turned to her. His voice was cool, indifferent, and laced with an intimidating tone.

"We should get back in there."

Y/n didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed to be going back inside. But she knew that she would never forget the shared cigarette or the way Harry made heat chafe beneath her skin and confusion wrap itself around her throat.

"Where'd you go?" Dante asked her harshly as he watched Harry walk past like they hadn't just had a little moment together outside.

"Just stepped outside to get some air."

"With him?"

She followed Dante's gaze toward his brother who was taking his seat and leaning forward to grab his glass of whisky.

"Yes. He went to smoke so I joined him outside."

Y/n was still pissed at Dante and Harry's warning about his brother felt like it was hung up above the stage where the band played in flashing neon.

He's always been an asshole.

"Yeah. I can tell. You stink now. Smell like Marlboros and red wine."

A scoff fell from her lips as she rolled her eyes. Somehow the fresh air, the shared cigarette, and Harry's company had actually made her feel rather confident, defiant even, "You know what… I'm gonna go. You stay. Enjoy the wedding. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Where are you gonna go? You're not coming home tonight?"

Shrugging she picked up her purse from the table, "I think I'm gonna go stay with my sister. I need a night away from you."

. .

If you'd like more consider joining my Patreon!

xoxo

[cevansbrat0007]

There is a trend on some social media where the wife/Gf gives her man a full plate and only her self a little saying that is all that was left. How would Andy and Ari act in that situation?

What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Brief Mention of Calorie Counting, Bickering, Manhandling, Threats of Spanking/Punishment, Discussion of a Sex Tape, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Ari Levinson from my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You weren’t quite sure what possessed you to do this. If anybody asked, you would claim temporary insanity. But right now you were about to get up to some mischief. 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” You mutter under your breath as you adjust the position of the camera you hid tucked away behind a plant. Pleased with the angle, you make a mental note to revisit the world of Harry Potter sooner rather than later. 

It was officially time for a reread. 

Tonight you were gonna play a little joke on your bounty hunter boyfriend. One that you’d come across the other day after accidentally straying from the wonderful world of BookTok. You just hoped he would find it as amusing as you did. In fact, you were certain that he would.

Eventually.   

Hands on your hips, you do an about-face and traipse back into the kitchen to get started on dinner. On tonight’s menu was a Tuscan pork roast, complete with red wine mushrooms and Haricots Verts – also known as French Green Beans. And for dessert, you’d decided to whip up your man’s favorite: key lime pie 

So, even if he got pissed at you later, you were confident you had something that would soothe his ruffled feathers. 

Fingers crossed.

Later that Evening…

The heady thrum of excitement hits you the moment you hear the open and shut of your front door. Having anticipated his arrival, you’d even thrown on a new dress and cued up a little music. While it wasn’t your usual style, you knew without a doubt that Ari would appreciate your efforts. 

“Bird?” 

The sound of your nickname has a smile forming on your lips before you even realize it. Smoothing your hands over your skirt, you make your way towards your mudroom, eager to greet your handsome bounty hunter. 

His eyes light up the moment he sees you. He stands there for a moment, drinking in the sight you clad in your new black dress and wedge heels. 

“Well, get a look at you.” He breathes, allowing his bag to drop at his feet next to his forgotten boots.

“You like?” Biting your lip, you give into temptation and do a little spin. 

Confidence blooms when you hear his appreciative whistle. But that’s nowhere near enough for your man. Because now that you’d gone and given him a show, he wanted more. 

“Oh baby, I love.” 

Pulling you into his arms, his mouth quickly descends upon your own. His tongue wastes no time finding yours, exploring every inch, every corner of your mouth. He lets you know without words that he’s so unbelievably happy to be home holding you like this. 

You cling to him, your hands roving beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt to run along the sculpted plane of his back. When he finally lets you up for air it’s so he can nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, unique scent.    

“You’re beautiful.” He rasps, pecking your lips once more, his large hands come up to frame your face. “So beautiful. Can’t wait to take this dress off you later, see what you might be hiding underneath.”

“All in good time, Beast.” Your lashes flutter closed as you lean into his touch. “All in good time.”

“What if I don’t wanna wait?” His husky growl rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest as he fiddles the material of your skirt. 

“Well, you’re gonna.” Comes your cheeky response. “So go on and wash up for supper. We’re having something yummy.” You bat as his hands, intending to shoo him up the stairs.

The look that flashes across your man’s face makes it clear that he’d much rather have you for dinner instead. He boxes you in, slowly crowding you with his much larger frame as he backs you against a nearby wall. 

However, you refuse to let yourself be swayed.

“I mean it, mister.” You repeat, poking him in the chest. “Now, be a good boy and go wash up.” Ari’s eyes darken at your words. His head dips without warning as he bites your finger, sucking the digit into his mouth, making you gasp. 

“Alright, Duchess. Have it your way.” He growls once he finally deigns to release you. “You’d best be ready for me when I get back.” With that, he gives you his back as he strides off in the direction of the stairs.

“I ain’t scared of you.” You tell his retreating form, waiting until you hear his heavy footfalls sounding on the floor above you. Only then do you move, intending to finish setting up for dinner. 

‘Alright, sugar.’ You think, taking a second to fluff your curls. ‘Time to earn yourself an Oscar.’ 

Fifteen Minutes Later…

You’ve just finished hiding away what’s left of your meal when you hear Ari make his way into your tiny dining room.

“Have a seat, Beast!” You call out, hoping that the act you were about to put on was at least mildly convincing. “I–I’ll be right in.”

Blowing out a breath you snag your bounty hunter’s plate, along with a glass of wine, and head into the next room. Although he admittedly wasn’t much of a wine drinker before he met you, he tended to enjoy whatever selection you paired with your meal. 

Tonight you’d picked a lovely pinot noir.       

This time when you see him, you’re treated to the sight of a freshly showered Ari lazily sprawled in one of your slightly too small chairs. His still damp hair is pushed back off his face as he waits for you, patiently biding his time while he plans his next move.

Or so you assumed, anyway.

“Here you are.” You sing as you approach. “Tonight I bring you an expertly roasted Tuscan pork loin, complete with a garlic and mushroom risotto and french-style green beans.”

“Smells good, baby.” He absentmindedly scratches at his jaw while he surveys the mountain of food on his plate. 

“Hopefully it tastes good too.” You lean down to press a quick kiss against his temple. “I’ll, uh, be right back with mine.” The handsome brute smacks your ass when you turn to depart, making you yip.      

“Hurry back.” He grunts, letting out a chuckle when he sees you trying to rub the sting out of your butt.

Seconds later you return with your food before quietly taking a seat at the table, all the while refusing to make eye contact. Picking up your napkin, you make a show of draping it across your knee, and then…

You wait. 

It doesn’t take long for Ari to notice the differences between your respective plates, and it takes even less time for him to speak on it – much to your internal satisfaction.

“What the–?” Ari pushes his plate aside so that he can get a better look at your virtually empty one. “Where the hell’s the rest of your food, baby?” His deep voice comes out deceptively soft.  

“Huh?” You cast him a sheepish glance, feigning embarrassment. “Oh this? It’s fine.”

“That’s not what I asked, Bird.” The quiet steel in his voice is impossible to miss.

“I know it wasn’t. But this was all that was left, so…” You trail off, averting your gaze in favor of using your fork to push food around your plate. “It’s fine.”

“There’s that damn word again.” You hear him grumble under his breath, his nostrils flaring in frustration. “I got news for you, Bird. It ain’t fine.” He grouses, reaching for you even as you shift away.

“But it is.” You sing, daintily fanning yourself with a napkin. 

“No it isn’t.” He sings right back, clearly not understanding your game. Which was a good thing. It meant that you two could play a little longer.  

“Look, if this is about you feeling like you need to start counting calories again…” Ari goes to rest his elbows on the table, his own meal all but forgotten. “Then please believe me when I tell you that you look phenomenal. And not just tonight, baby. I mean every night.”

You feel your cheeks heat as your body responds to his praise. That familiar warmth soon spreads, pooling in your belly while you mentally preen at his words.  

“Thank you, Ari.” 

“Oh don’t thank me, sweet girl.” His already husky voice dips another octave. “I just want you to eat.” You stifle a small shiver when the roughened pads of his fingertips lightly graze over your hand. “Now, do me a kindness and take your pretty little self back into that kitchen and fix yourself a proper plate.” 

And there it was. He thought you were lying about there not being any leftovers. He was right, of course. Just not the way he thought he was. 

“I would if I could, sugar.” You stretch out your legs beneath the table as you prepare to really sell the narrative. “Honest. But there really isn’t anything left. I…accidentally only bought one pork loin instead of two. And then I misjudged the recipe for the risotto, but that was most likely on account of the fact that I was in my feelings about the state of Herb & Twine’s green beans selection. It wasn’t very good.”

Ari doesn’t tell you this, but he’s actually impressed by your ability to speak that fast without so much as taking a breath. Instead all you receive is a gruff “uh huh” for your trouble.  

“So,” You forge on, now fully committed to the bit. “I salvaged what I could out of the meal I planned and then gave most of it to you.”

“Why?” 

Boy, he did not look happy. Which was great news for you

“Because…” You draw out the word, wincing when you belatedly notice the sudden tick in his jaw. “I just…felt like you shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes.”

“Oh.” He hums, pursing his lips as he mulls over your story. “Well, I reckon we’ll just have to fix that.”

Unsure of what he means, you open your mouth to keep talking, only to let out a shriek when Ari suddenly reaches over to grip the back of your chair to drag you, and it, over closer to him.  

“Christ, Beast!” Your hand flies to your still-heaving chest as you will your heartbeat to calm down. 

But your man’s not done yet. 

You scarcely have time to catch your breath before you’re hauled into his lap. Immediately your arms go to weave themselves around his neck to keep you from falling. Not that Ari would’ve ever allowed that to happen.

Seemingly unbothered by your rather dramatic response, Ari seeks to balance you on top of his muscled thighs as he leans over again to retrieve your plate. You watch in confusion as he unceremoniously dumps the contents onto his own dish before setting yours aside once more. 

“Hate to break it to you, Duchess.” He seamlessly adjusts your positions so that he can grasp his knife and fork. “But I don’t need all this food. So it looks like we’ll just have to share.” 

Momentarily stunned by this turn of events you can only nod as he feeds you a tender bite of pork. It takes a moment for you to find your voice, but when you finally do, it’s to utter two simple words. 

“Ari, wait.” 

“‘Fraid I’m not really in the mood to wait.” Your impatient bounty hunter warns. But he does pause his efforts, his fork hovering mere centimeters from your mouth. “You’re nuts if you think I’m the kinda man who would even consider stuffing himself while his lady sits by and starves.”

“I know.” You assure him before rearranging your body so that you’re facing him, your thighs  now straddling his hips. “And I think that’s awfully sweet.”

“Great. So how about you –”

“But since this is a prank…” The grin you’re sporting threatens to split your face in two. “It looks like you get to keep your food.”

Ari blinks back at you, his mouth briefly opening and closing in a way that very much reminds you of a fish. You feel positively giddy as you press your hands on either side of his bearded face so you can plant a kiss on his full lips while he tries, and fails, to make sense of what you just said. 

“Run that by me one more time.” His quiet snarl is enough to have you soaking your panties.

“I saw this thing on TikTok, where these women all decided to prank their boyfriends by serving them this big ol’ plate of food, while pretending to give themselves only a little bit and claiming that was all that was leftover. They filmed their reactions and posted ‘em for everyone else to see.”

“What the hell is a fuckin’ TikTok?” 

“It’s this app where you…” You pause as you try to find the right words. “Where people can, um–”

“Post dumb shit?” He quirks a tawny brow as he tries to remain serious, even though you’re also pretty sure that you just saw his lips twitch. “Come up with new and inventive ways to torture the men that love them?”

“I mean, that’s not all it is.” You take a moment to whisper kisses along his chiseled jaw. “But I guess that’s a pretty accurate description.”

“Hmph.” Your grumpy bounty hunter continues to glower at you, even as his large, warm hands move to settle on your hips. “And am I right to assume you’re recording this?”

“Maybe…” You giggle, not bothering to hide just how funny you found this all to be. “Oh – but I was never gonna post it. Promise.” 

You hold up your pinky, trying your hardest to look solemn. But the look Ari gives you lets you know that he’s done falling for your act. 

“I’m warning you, Duchess.” He grunts, lightly bouncing you on his lap. “I swear to God, if I catch myself on that fuckin’ tock clock…thing…you have my word that I’m gonna redden that ass.”

“I already told you I wasn’t gonna.” You reassure him once more, resting your forehead against his. “By the way, thanks for bein’ such a good sport about the whole thing.”

“No problem.” He flashes you a feral grin, revealing his pearly white teeth. It shoots straight to your core. “But the way I see it, you kinda owe me one. Don’t you?” He leans in close as his hands begin gently kneading your curves. 

“Um…I don’t think–” You let out a soft whimper when he drags his nose along the delicate column of your throat.

“Oh, but I do.” He nips at your jaw. 

“I suppose that’s fair.” 

“Trust me, it is.” His sensual growl has you practically shivering with need. “Which is why you’re gonna show me where you hid that camera.” His lust-filled gaze drops to your cleavage as he openly begins undressing you with his eyes.

“Now hold on a minute, Beast –” You stammer once realization dawns. 

“Aw, don’t fret.” Ari’s rueful chuckle lets you know that you will never win this battle. “You’ll have your turn to direct our little movie.” Ari suddenly stands without warning so that he can gently deposit you back in your own chair. “Especially now that I know how much you love performing for the camera.

Oh, the man had you there. Sometimes your Beast was a bit too cunning for your liking. 

“I don’t think–” You try again, now feeling shy. “What we do in the dark has no business being on film!”

“Hm, guess we’ll just have to keep the lights on. But for now, let’s get you fed.” He drops a kiss on your head before picking up your empty dish and sauntering off towards the kitchen. “We’ll talk lighting and camera angles once you’re finished.” 

Good Lord on high. What had you just gotten yourself into?

“Here we are.” Ari continues upon his return a few minutes later. He sets your down in front of you before taking your napkin and redraping it across your lap. “But I’d eat fast if I were you.”

“Um…why?” You ask, eyeing him warily. 

“Because.” He winks at you before taking a seat and enthusiastically spearing a piece of meat onto his fork. “Tonight’s dress rehearsal starts in thirty minutes.”

END

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[taintandviolent]

From smut prompts can you do a combo of 2 and 57 for Remy Lebeau x female!Reader?

Love your writing and can’t wait for part 2 of Taco tuesday!

warnings: smut (doggy-style), dirty talk, uhhhhhh i dunno what else. mirror sex? yeah.

His groans are more frequent, breathing ragged. Suddenly, he reaches around to your face, his strong hand gripping your jaw, straightening your head gently. Your eyes are still closed, painfully heavy with arousal. He’s fucked you senseless, and without his current support, you can barely hold your head up. 

“Look at your reflection, cher.” he murmurs. His voice is sultry, laden with arousal and you peel your lids back, swallowing hard. You’re suddenly faced with your own reflection; the mirror on the back of your door. It’s parallel to your bed, and until right then, you somehow forgot that. To Remy, it had been an intentional, calculated move. The position you two were currently in was one that felt impersonal to him sometimes, but because you had a mirror, he still got to enjoy all the subtle nuances of your arousal, and the way you responded to his body.

Doing it doggy-style, you’re on your knees and elbows, and Remy is tall behind you, all brawn. Your eyes flit to your own image somewhat apprehensive, for no man has ever made you look at yourself during sex and you’re not sure what you’re about to find. To your surprise, it’s not embarrassing, nor is it something that kills your high. 

The way the light filters in from your bedroom window casts you in a dreamy yellow haze, flushing your skin with a light glow. Your gaze is lust blown, your cheeks are flushed, your ample cleaveage is rocking back and forth with the force of his movements, and your hair mussed up from where he’d been holding onto it. He thrusts his hips into you once, hard, and your expression contorts into one of pleasure, body shuddering against the action. Seeing it in the mirror is a new experience, but the visual turns you on even more. If you were going to be honest with yourself, you were hot.  

You grip the sheets, making fists in the fabric as Remy hammers into you. Your jaw drops, and a low, erotic moan of pleasure tumbles out over your flushed lips. He, too, looks so good – the way his handsome features look almost tormented with pleasure, the way he’s moving against you, his muscles rippling with each exertion. 

“Look at how gorgeous you are.” He continues, his words choppy from the power of his thrusts. Despite that, his voice is deep and commanding, and he holds your hips, using them as leverage for his thrusts. “So gorgeous when I’m fuckin’ you like ‘dis. So pretty for me, and only for me, huh?”

You’re only able to moan in response as the sensations overwhelm you. He’s hitting all the right spots, taking you in a way that you’ve never experienced before. 

“Ain’t ‘dat right, cher?” He urges, watching you in the mirror. You nod, breathlessly. He cocks a languid, half-smile; pleased that you’re appreciating yourself, even a little bit. If you saw yourself through his eyes… 

He suddenly leans forward, pressing his toned stomach against your back, and urging himself farther inside of you. His voice, when he speaks, is husky and low, almost a growl. 

“I ain’t sharin’ you with anybody. You’re mine, and mine only, and Remy gonna’ make you remember ‘dat.”.

The way he fucks you then is ruthless, staying true to his previous claim. His hips hammer into yours, cock bullying your cunt with reckless abandon. Your arousal climbs higher, and higher until it reaches a peak; you can’t hold it back any longer Your eyes fly open again, brows pulled together in tortured lust, as the coil snaps and you collapse the front half of your body forward, soaking him and arching your back up until it aches.

Remy’s close behind you, but his stamina is better than yours. Another new experience; men usually come first (too quickly, at that), but not him. He’s got you in ten different positions, three orgasms deep before he paints your insides. 

“Ah, cher… c’mere.”

[notafunkiller]

happy new year

Summary: On New Year's Eve, you take a bold step by approaching a stranger, with whom you form a connection.

Pairing: writer!endings beginnings frank x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (r is 23, Frank is 42) teasing, dirty talk, pet names, oral séx, protected séx, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Frank (Endings, Beginnings) masterlist

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I think this will be a series, so I really hope you’ll enjoy it! Also, I want to thank @lavenderhaze967 for supporting me!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You’re not a coward...  You’ve never been, but as you pat him on the shoulder, you want nothing more than to run away.

What were you thinking? What are you gonna tell him?

You grab the glass from the table and try to turn around quickly, but it’s too late. You see him out of the corner of your eyes how he shifts, and now he’s facing you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You stop with a sigh, and you find yourself checking him out shamelessly.

His hair looks perfectly styled, but in that “I don’t give a fuck” way you always admire. Even when you try or not to care, it still ends up messy. And the whites in his beard make you feel a little weaker. He looks even more handsome up close.

“Well, hello there.” He smiles shyly before bursting into giggles.

You freeze for a little bit, taken aback by his smile and the way it makes his eyes glow.

“Hi.”

“Happy new year,” he says, still smiling, with his hands in his pockets. He looks so casual, yet so attractive. It makes you wonder if it comes with time...

You clear your throat. “Happy new year!”

You don’t like how awkward you sound, it’s embarrassing, so you need help. Without noticing he follows your gaze, you turn your head toward your friends, who’ve been watching you all along. You try to show them with your eyebrows that you need some tips, but the only thing they do is to give you a thumb-up.

Sighing, you look at him again and notice how his cute smile turns into a lob-sided smirk.

“Is that for me, darling?” He nods toward the glasses you’re holding, and you mentally slap yourself as you hand him one.

“Oh, shoot! Yeah!”

He snorts, amused. “Well, thank you very much.”

With a playful wink, he brings the glass to his mouth, taking a huge sip. Your eyes remain locked even as he licks his lips, savoring the aftertaste. The corners of his mouth curl into a charming smile again, and you sigh, feeling your cheeks get hotter, as he acknowledges your gesture with a nod of appreciation.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anything I can help you with? What’s the dare?”

You don’t know how to react for a second. What dare?

“I don’t know what you mean,” you murmur.

“Look, darling, I really don’t mind.” He chuckles, waving around with the hand he’s holding the champagne glass with. “Just tell me what’s the dare, and I can help you.”

Still caught off guard by his assumption, you smile politely. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand... Where did this dare idea come from? There’s no such a thing.” You look at him with a mix of curiosity and gentle insistence, wanting to know what it’s running through his mind. You feel so embarrassed.

“I mean...” He brings his free hand to the back of his head to stroke his hair. “I was young once too, you know? I wasn’t always forty-two, I promise.”

He laughs, but you’re still focused on the casual way he dropped his age. You wouldn’t have guessed he is over forty for sure, but that doesn’t change anything. You still want to kiss him. He, on the other hand, seems to care about it. Gosh, how would he react if he knew you’re just twenty-three?

“You don’t look forty at all.”

That is the only thing you find yourself mumblings, and you sigh as soon as you realize how biased that sounds.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but he keeps smiling, so it must be a good sign, right?

“Well, don’t let my wrinkles or,” he pauses to stroke his beard. “My whites hear that. They might feel left out from the aging party and all.”

You can’t help but giggle, bringing your free hand to cover your cheeks, trying to hide your redness. He is casually bringing up his age, white hair, and wrinkles. Is he trying to send you a message?

“Sorry if that sounded weird. Your wrinkles are a part of...” You stop mid-sentence, not knowing what you’re going to say. You’re so silly. “I just meant… you look great. Um, yeah, sorry again.”

“So you think men in the forties look-”

“No, no,” you interrupt, panicking, but he laughs.

“I was just teasing, darling, don’t worry. Saw you turning to your friends earlier and I assumed you got dared to offer me champagne or something. I mean, why else would a woman like you talk to a fossil like me?”

Your eyes drop to his lips immediately when he chuckles. They’re wet and chapped, and you wonder how they’d feel against yours. His beard is long enough not to itch, so...

“You’re, uh, really hot,” you say bluntly before taking a huge sip from your champagne glass without taking your eyes off his face.

He frowns for a second, probably taken aback by your words, but he doesn’t get to say something as everyone around you starts to count. Almost midnight.

You take the glass from his hand and place it along with yours on the table.

This is it...

When the counting hits three, you take a deep breath, closing your eyes at the same time you get on your tiptoes, and crush your lips against his in a moment of madness. You didn’t want to have time to think twice, because you know you wouldn’t have done it. You never do something crazy like this. You’re never brave enough.

But it’s like you’re kissing a statue. He doesn’t respond at all, keeping his mouth and his arms completely still.

You step back; a mix of shock and embarrassment washing over you. “I’m so sorry,” you blurt out as you feel your cheeks reddening even more. You want to look into his eyes as you apologize… You really do, but you find it too hard. You don’t want to see the rejection or, even worse, the disgust. “I shouldn’t have done that, I am so sorry! I was completely out of line. You obviously didn’t want me, and I just crossed…” You fumble for words, mortified, and you realize it would be better if you just left. So you turn around, not even taking your glass. You just want to run away and cry yourself to sleep. You’ll have to leave this place earlier, since there is no way you could face him ever again. You shouldn’t have even approached him, you ruined his New Year’s Eve. God, you didn’t even ask him if he had someone! You simply assumed he is single because he didn’t have a wedding band, and you didn’t see him with anyone.

You take a few steps into your friends’ direction, crushed, but you feel his hand wrapping around your forearm, stopping you and, at the same time, turning you around.

You wonder if he’s going to scold you as you stare back at him, but he surprises you too when he moves his hand from your forearm to the back of your head, tilting your head enough so he can lean in and kiss you.

You gasp when you feel his lips, and he doesn’t hesitate even for a second to deepen the kiss. You feel his tongue everywhere in your mouth, and you moan, feeling your knees weakening. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this, let alone in public. It makes your attempt from earlier look ridiculous. You try to kiss him back with just as much passion, bringing your hands to his neck so you can feel him better. His beard doesn’t tickle your face, and his tongue is amazing.

You’re gonna remember this forever, without a doubt.

He breaks the kiss with a pop when you can’t breathe anymore, letting your foreheads touch gently.

“Now this is, indeed, a happy new year.”

“Thought you didn’t want it... me,” you whisper, still looking at his now red lips. You just want to kiss him again and cover his whole face with lipstick.

“The question is do you really want me like this? I’m an old man with a very messy fuck boy past. You know, I even used to do drugs,” he says seriously, but not moving away. It’s like he’s waiting for you to take the step back, and when you don’t, he continues. “You seem like a good girl, and I assume you’re pretty sober.” He pauses, waiting for you to confirm, so you just nod. “Good! But I don’t want you to make decisions in the heat of the moment. Even if it’s just for a night.”

Even though you understand being a good girl is not an insult, you’re still offended. He basically offers one night, so his past doesn’t matter. Fuck boy... you guess this is also his way of telling you he is single and doesn’t look for something serious. And you appreciate he’s warning you about everything. No man who’s still in that mindset would warn you. He means well, so you grab him by the collar of his shirt. “Do good girls kiss you without even knowing your name?” Your tone takes him by surprise. His eyes widen, and a giggle escapes his mouth.

“Still a good... and younger girl. Too young for me for sure.”

You sigh, getting on your tiptoes again.

“What if this good, younger girl takes you to her room and lets you fuck her?”

You don’t know where this comes from. You’re always straightforward, but not like this. And definitely not to a man in his early forties you don’t even know. But you really want him, and you deserve to enjoy yourself for a minute.

His eyes are big, but his smirk tells a whole different story.

“If you’re sure,” he waves around, signaling you that you can leave and that he’s in. Your heart is racing as you take his hand. “I guess you want to be my good girl.”

*

His hands are everywhere: from your hair to your hips as soon as you close the door, surprising you. You drop the keys and your purse on the table and let him guide you to the mini-couch. If you thought the kiss from earlier was intense, the way he kisses you now makes you completely breathless. He’s really, really good at it, and the way he’s grabbing your ass is actually perfect. Even though his tongue explores your mouth with almost desperation, you don’t feel like he rushes anything at all.

“It’s Frank, by the way,” he whispers against your cheek before he starts unzipping your dress.

“What?”

You nervously let the sleeves fall and then step out of your dress. Your underwear doesn’t match and you are not prepared for sex, but he doesn’t seem to mind, staring straight at your bra as if it’s his worst enemy.

“My name, darling.”

“Frank...” You repeat. It fits him, it sounds straightforward.

He smiles widely, bringing his hand to your back to unhook your bra.

“I hope you’ll keep saying my name tonight. You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.”

You can’t even be mad at him for his lie.

“I somehow doubt that, Frank,” you snort, throwing the bra on the floor yourself. You keep your eyes there for a few seconds, not knowing what to do, but you feel his hands on your breasts before you can even say something, squeezing and teasing your nipples.

“You have the most beautiful tits ever. Wanna bury my face in them as I fuck you. Would you let me do that too?”

You can’t help but sigh, bringing your hand to his chin. “You don’t have to lie to me, okay? I actually ask you not to.”

He stops fondling your breasts, and you make eye contact. He seems a little confused and maybe even mad.

“I mean every word I say. I don’t need to lie, do I? You said you’re gonna be my good girl. So I do feel like licking your tits as I fuck you till you scream my name, okay?”

“I never said I wanna be your good girl, did I?” You ask, changing the subject, and bring your hands to his flannel shirt-jacket to remove it.

“No, you’re right. You wanna be my brat.” He bites his bottom lip as you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can, noticing how your fingers tremble. “Have you ever been called a brat before? Did they even notice you are one?”

“Do you always talk about others during sex? That’s a total turn off for me, just so you know.” You pull off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. God, please have mercy! You finally meet his eyes. “And no, I haven’t been called that before. You’re the first one. Does that stroke your ego or,” you pause so you can unzip his jeans. “Should I stroke something else?”

“No need to stroke anything. How about being a good princess and lying on your back so I can get a taste of your pretty pussy, hmm?”

You probably made a face since he brings his lips between your brows, stopping you from frowning with a kiss.

“Princess, really? Did that really get you laid?”

“I thought it turns you off to talk about other people,” he whispers as you lower his jeans and briefs at the same time, trying not to frown again at the thought of what you brought up. You know it’s silly and unfair to wish to be seen as unique, especially in the eyes of a man with experience like Frank, but you can’t control your thoughts.

You shake your head, wanting to snap out of it. One night. You have to stop overthinking for only one night... or, well, until you two finish. “You’re right. Let’s just…”

He steps out of the pool of clothes but doesn’t let you go to the bed or even look down, holding your face so you can meet his eyes.

“I haven’t called anyone princess until now, I swear. And I’ve never been with someone this younger, either.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Frank.” You smile. “I promised to let you fuck me, so...”

“Sweetheart, hey!” His voice is not just soft, but also comforting. You immediately notice his bottom lip between his teeth, though. “Tell me if you changed your mind. Tell me to stop any time. I know you can’t fully believe that, but I promise I’m not lying about anything. I can charm you better with my tongue than with some words I wouldn’t believe in. I found you incredibly hot when I saw you tonight. Checked you out before you came to me, but I realized you’re way too young and you don’t need this shit. I assumed you’re with someone.” His thumb touches your bottom lip, and you whimper.

“Frank...”

“I could come just by looking at your face. Won’t even talk about your tits. Whoever made you feel otherwise is a fucking jackass.”

You don’t know if you should laugh or simply kiss the hell out of him, fighting the urge to apologize, so instead you look down, straight at his cock and gasp. It’s thick and so, so hard. The precome on the head makes you wonder how it’d taste. The slight curve and the visible veins make it look even hotter.

You’re nervous since you did this only two times, so you certainly can’t say you’re an expert.

You gently grab the head of his dick with your right hand, stroking a bit with your thumb. It steals a moan from him instantly, making you feel proud.

After that, you drop to your knees without hesitation, not taking off your hands until you make sure you are close enough. You look up at him just in time to see him pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, shocked.

“I wanna suck your cock so much, but I need some... guidance. I’m not,” you stop shyly for a second to rephrase it. “I want to know how you like it.”

“Jesus, sweetheart, are you trying to kill an old man?”

“Why, do you see one with us in the room?” You take one hand off so you can bring your tongue to the head and get a proper taste.

You feel his fingers flying to your hair instantly, almost pulling, and you keep looking into his eyes.

“S-stop, I told you I want to eat you, now be a good-” he hisses when you take his tip into your mouth, playfully letting your teeth just graze him. You don’t know where this came from, but you just had the urge to do it. “Fucking brat!”

This time he actually pulls your hair a little, making you actually whimper when you lose contact with his cock.

“If you don’t like it, you can, uh, fuck my mouth. I never... But I-”

“Fucking hell,” he groans, leaning it enough so he can grab you by your waist and lift you until he can properly take you in his arms to carry you.

“Just shut up for a sec and listen, okay?”

You roll your eyes, licking your lips. “Or what? Gonna punish me?” You mock him before telling him your name as he drops you on the bed.

“Yes, I’m gonna punish you. Is that your real name?”

You move, supporting yourself on your elbows as he spreads your legs.

“Yes, why? Did you give me a fake name?” You get goosebumps when you feel his hands on the sides of your underwear. And before you can continue to question him, you hear the tearing sound at the same time as you feel the underwear fall on the bed.

What the fuck?

“No, but I never know with a bratty little girl.”

“Little girl? You’ve just ripped my underwear, Frank!”

“You almost bit my cock!”

You roll your eyes. He’s so dramatic.

“If I’d really wanted to bite it, you’d have no cock right now to fuck me with, so...”

He shakes his head, and you almost reach for those strands that fall recklessly on his forehead. He has such pretty hair, you’re jealous.

“God, look at this.” He sounds so fascinated as his fingers find your slit. Your body jolts in surprise when you feel his touch. “So wet.”

He smiles cheekily before bringing his finger to your mouth and pressing it against your bottom lip so you can feel the wetness. Then he kisses you with hunger, licking and biting until you open.

He doesn’t just deepen the kiss, he also moves and drags you with him until you’re on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he says suddenly, making you freeze for a couple of seconds. Unexpected.

He starts leaving a trail of kisses on his way down to your pussy: from your chin, to your neck, the valley between your tits, your navel, then right above your entrance.

“I want you not to hold back, okay? If you feel the need to ride my face, please do. If you want me to use my hands or tongue in any way, tell me. Guide me... use me, I’m all yours.”

The way he says the last part makes you whimper. He wants you to use him for your pleasure… and there is something about this that drives you absolutely crazy.

“Yes, Frank.”

He smiles, breathing out right against your entrance, making you shiver before licking. Fuck.

“Good girl.”

Your hips start moving before you realize what you’re doing, and Frank’s nose is brushing your clit, making you whimper. It was only for a second, but he immediately catches the sound.

He stops, and you open your eyes in panic. He told you to do whatever you felt like. There is no way he is mad about this, right?

He looks far from mad or bothered. He looks somehow more turned on than before, and the sound of him licking his fingers makes you shiver in anticipation.

You feel his mouth kissing your clit at the same time he curls a finger inside you. The moan escapes you before you can bite your lip, and you feel his smile between your legs.

You can’t help but rock your hips again, searching for his tongue, wanting to make him fasten the way he fucks you with his finger, but he is no hurry. He wraps his lips around your clit again and sucks slowly while his index finger stays unmoved inside you.

He’s a fucking tease!

Remembering his words from earlier but still hesitatingly, you let your back hit the bed and bring your right hand into his hair, pulling gently to get his attention.

He looks up, not changing anything, and you start stroking his hair. “Gimmie more. And... faster, please.”

You sound shyer than you wanted, but it’s the first time you have any kind of intimacy with this man. And it’s not like you have a lot of experience.

And thankfully, he doesn’t tease you more, getting another finger inside you, and he starts to pump them much faster. The way he sucks on your clit now is a bit different too, and it’s so good. You don’t even realize you’re pulling his hair until you feel his hand over yours, encouraging you to grab it harder.

“Don’t wanna h-hurt you.” It’s so hard to focus. “You have pretty... hair.”

The truth is that he has the prettiest hair you’ve ever seen, but you also never pulled your ex’s hair during sex. Ethan hated his hair being played with when he grew it out, and most of the time you wouldn’t even be able to pull it anyway since it was way too short.

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel Frank’s teeth teasing your clit. You’re extra sensitive.

“F-Frank!”

And it seems like he knows and he’s just messing with you.

This time, you don’t hesitate to move your hips, just not with too much force because you don’t want to suffocate him. But he seems like he does since he moans into your clit and starts basically suckling. You’re losing it. You’re losing it and you can’t even warn him. You’re coming all over his face with a hand in his hair and another grabbing the sheet under you.

He doesn’t stop any of his movements until you open your eyes and let go of his hair. You didn’t even realize how hard you’ve been pulling it, but you don’t feel bad, he seems to enjoy this a lot.

“You taste fucking fantastic.” These are the first words he manages to say between breaths, and in a second he is back on top of you, his lips shining with your wetness. You immediately bring your hand weakly to his chin and stroke his beard, which is also wet.

You shake your head a little, trying not to blush. He wouldn’t say that just for the sake of it... you can’t question it again, and you don’t know how to answer. What can you say? That he has a lovely tongue? So you choose to change the subject.

“Can I return the favor now, Frank?”

He frowns, closing the gap between your faces. “It is not a favor, princess.” And then he kisses you, giving you a taste of your own pussy. He’s not even trying to deepen the kiss, so you open your mouth, letting your tongue taste more of your wetness. His whimper makes you feel victorious, and you use it as an opportunity to explore inside his mouth. You can’t say you taste in a certain way, but at least it is not bad. Frank, on the other hand, has a taste you don’t think you’d ever get tired of.

“See?” He breaks the kiss. “Gonna get me addicted.”

You roll your eyes. “I highly doubt that, now please tell me you have a condom.”

He freezes for a bit, and you almost groan in disappointment, but then he smiles. “Yeah, I think I have one or two. Old habit.”

You don’t say anything about his last remark as you watch him get off the bed and grab his jeans from the floor. You try not to think once again about how this will end soon and you’ll be remembering this night for a long time. And thankfully, he is back with two condoms, smiling as he opens one. He lets the other on the floor and before you can offer to help, he’s already ready.

“How do you want me?”

He looks at you surprised, probably not expecting this question, but you don’t know what he likes.

“Wanna ask you one more time... are you sure you wanna do this? We can stop-”

“I told you I want your cock, Frank. That I want you to fuck me.” You giggle nervously, spreading your legs. He didn’t decide after all. “Now please...”

“Need to fuck this doubt out of you.” He shakes his head as he positions himself between your legs, and before you can answer, he leans in, grabbing a pillow and placing it under your head. “Let’s see how much it takes for you to cry out my name.”

You’re not sure why you feel so nervous. He ate you out, you played a bit with his cock, yet somehow this makes you agitated.

You’re proud of yourself for not closing your eyes even after he enters you. Your body is trapped between his elbows, and you whimper, grabbing his arm to keep some kind of sense of your surroundings.

He’s much thicker than Ethan, and you find yourself trying to spread your legs even further apart, wanting to feel more of him. It’s something thrilling about this discomfort because it makes you crave more.

“You okay?”

“Ihm,” you gasp, trying to find your breath.

“Should I stop?”

“What? Why?”

You realize shortly after he giggles what he actually means, and you look away embarrassed.

“I meant inside you, darling. You’re, uh-”

He forgets what he was gonna say when you raise your hips to get him deeper inside you, and without asking him for permission, you wrap your legs around his ass. You need him all the way in even if it’ll hurt. You want to enjoy this to the fullest... every second of it.

And it’s absolutely a joy to see a man like Frank lose his focus.

“S-so good.”

“God, are you-” He moans when you rock your hips a bit more, trying to get used to the sensation of being so full. “You’re perfect, fuck!”

“I n-need you to move, Frank. Fuck me, okay?” The more you try to fuck him the louder the impact of your bodies gets... from your slickness to his balls hitting your ass.

God, you never wanted to be fucked so hard more than now!

“Please, give it to me, I can... I can handle it.”

It’s like something snaps inside him because in no time you’re getting what you wanted. He’s fucking you and smiling in a way that you can only describe as devlish. It’s sexy, and mocking, and warm at the same time. It makes you lose your mind.

“Look at you, begging to take my cock, beg- fuck! Begging for me to fill this pretty pussy. So wet for me!”

You wrap your legs around his ass even harder, digging your heels a little into his cheeks when he starts pounding you into the bed. You can’t keep down your moans even though you try to. So you bring your palm to your mouth so you can bite it. But Frank doesn’t seem to like it. Not at all... He stops mid-thrust, making you cry, needing more, just to move your hand away from your lips and pin it to the bed.

“Under no circumstances, you’re allowed to do this again.” His tone might be authoritative, but his eyes are soft and warm. You can’t help but bring your other hand to his face to stroke his beard.

“Why not?”

“Be a good girl and don’t play.” He’s not waiting for you to respond, though. He lowers his face a bit more and kisses you, making it impossible for you to breathe as he starts thrusting again as well. The pace is faster, more brutal somehow than before. He swallows a few of your moans as you desperately cling to his shoulders, trying to gain some strength to roll your hips back to meet his. When you do it, he hisses, breaking the kiss just to murmur how wet and tight you are. How good you feel and how he’s never gonna be the same. You can’t focus on anything, especially not on his words. Your eyes are blurry from the tears, and you can’t stop moaning. It’s like you have no control over your body, and for once, it’s not scary.

You lose it, though, when he lowers his hand to your clit and circles it over and over again. It’s like something short-circuits your body. You’re no longer just holding onto his shoulders, either, you’re scratching them without realizing as you come still crying. The way you scream his name, on the other hand, is enough for Frank to come too, thrusting a few more times before falling on top of you; his head right on your breasts as the pleasure takes over his body. You don’t care how heavy he is as you watch him through the fogginess looking so content.

“Was it okay?” You whisper, caressing his scratched shoulder with one hand while stroking the back of his head with the other one. “Sorry for hurting you.”

“Did you just use the word okay to describe what’s just happened?” He raises his head before rolling over so he’d stop crushing you. “This is the best sex I’ve had in my life, Jesus! And hurting me? Please, princess, it was so hot.”

You snort, suddenly more relaxed. He enjoyed it. Probably exaggerating with the best part, but still...

“I guess you have a pain kink, Frank.”

A huge smile spreads on his face as he pulls you to his chest. You don’t care that you’re both sweaty, you want to cuddle with him. You only have a condom left, then you’ll be alone again. And you might never have this crazy sex ever in your life. The thought makes you wanna cry, but you need to focus on the present. He’s still here.

“Should I bring you some water?” You feel his lips on your forehead. “Gonna get you a towel. Want a snack? You’ll need your strength for round two.”

It looks like he’s in no hurry, so you take a deep breath and smile.

“Some water sounds great. I can clean myself though, no need to bother yourself.”

But he’s on his feet before you can even finish speaking.

“You better not move!”

[temptress-writes]

📺 Sugar

A/N: Welcome to The Tonight Show with Harry Styles. The year is 1964, and you are his assistant. He's a bit of a shit. So this is a fun one.

C.W: sexual content: kinda rough— choking, spanking, degradation, slapping, spitting, squirting.

18+ ONLY.

***

New York City, 1964.

"Red leather, yellow leather, red leather, yellow leather."

The bright lights heated him even from behind the curtain. A warmth that coasted alongside his adrenaline. He struggled to keep his body cool underneath his designer sweater, felt his feet tapping restlessly in his leather oxfords.

This was his favourite part.

The cheers, the introduction, the attention.

You ran the lint roller over his shoulders as he sipped steaming tea from a paper cup. You made sure the collar of his plaid shirt was straight as it peeked out from his red sweater.

Another sip of steaming tea, another tongue twister.

"She sells..." You coached.

He took in a deep breath, watching you as you made sure he appeared perfect, rearranging the groomed curls on his head. Your green dress stood brightly against the black of the stage, the white cuffs of it framing your wrists as you fussed over his hair.

"She sells seashells by the seashore."

"One minute till curtain!" The stage manager yelled as he breezed by. "How're you feeling, Mr. Styles?"

"Like a million bucks, Sal!"

"That's the spirit!" Sal chuckled, running towards the side of the stage, probably chasing after an intern who wasn't doing their job properly.

"Remember, you're meeting your parents for dinner after this." You reminded, ticking off the mental to-do list that was really his. It was clogging your mind but after all, it was your job.

"I haven't forgotten." He rolled his eyes. Yes, you were his assistant, but he found you controlling at times and he had little patience for women who tried to control him. He preferred to be the one in charge.

"But you'll still find a way to be late, anyway." You stepped back with a huff. He really did make your job a living hell.

"I'm taking a refreshment in my dressing room after the show."

You scrunched up your face in disgust. Refreshment. You hated that you knew it was code for a visit from a desperate groupie. You remember when he told you how he chose which girl he liked the best. You'd been watching the audience file in and he appeared behind you, chewing gum with a confident pop of his jaw.

"Let me scope it out."

"Why?"

"Like to see who's gonna join me for a post-show soirée. See those girls?" He pointed to a group of overdressed girls, all giggling and excited for the show to start. "Bingo."

"How do you know which one to pick?"

He shot you a look, clicking his tongue. "The tits, sugar. I always pick the girl with the biggest tits."

"Ugh." You rolled your eyes. "You're disgusting."

"I'm just messin'," He tilted his head. "I'm an ass man, too."

You shuddered at the recollection.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." Your voice was laced with a seething sarcasm that he raised a brow at.

He didn't seem to conceptualise that you talked that way because that's how he talked to you. He couldn't see past his blinding, misogynistic ego.

You were purely volleying it right back at him. In hindsight, it wasn't the smartest move because you really needed this job and he had a tendency to fire staff with a snap of his jeweled fingers. He'd made the past six months hard on you and he really made your blood boil.

Who knew becoming Harry Styles' assistant would be akin to babysitting a grumpy toddler?

The Tonight Show with Harry Styles.

Hilarious with guests, a major flirt, and entertaining — even when reading out news segments.

He was well-loved by everyone. For his fun fashion statements, for his guests, his charm, his whole fantasy world on his show. Worldwide, he was adored as the most entertaining and handsome talk show host.

But you knew what happened behind the scenes.

Poised and perfect on camera, but as soon as the director called cut, you had trouble convincing yourself it wasn't a joke. People of the television world had a different sort of ego and you struggled to breathe among it all. Harry hated mingling with guests before and after the show more than he had to, he hated when the crew bothered him, he hated being approached by fans for autographs because he had a headache — or whatever excuse he was offering that day.

Don't get it twisted — he loved the attention he got from being so famous. You were surprised his head wasn't bigger. The one thing he loved most about being so popular was the fact that he could have anyone on his knees for him, be between their legs, and have them at their disposal. And he treated them like that was their only use.

The charming and cheerful Harry Styles.

Purely a falsity of a man.

The crew fled from the stage as the band started playing the introduction theme music and you swept the cup from his hand. You replaced it with two certs breath mints that he chewed on routinely.

"Wish me good luck." He demanded as you gave him a once over.

You beamed. "Break a leg."

"Thanks, sugar."

"No, like trip and fall."

His smile dropped into an unamused glare. "Oh, bite me."

The music ensued, getting louder with an abundant cheer from the live crowd, the curtain preparing to lift to reveal him. You rushed off stage, your Mary Janes clicking on the floor before nodding to Sal who gave you two thumbs up.

"Filmed before a live studio audience..."

"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."

Harry took a deep breath, already bathing in the adoration he garnered from simply existing.

"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."

You rolled your eyes as he mouthed along with the words as they were spoken.

"...Mr. Harry Styles!"

The curtain parted and he stepped forward, his hands waving to the crowd before clasping them together as he took a small bow. He blew kisses, thanking them for coming and welcoming them. He egged on the drummer of the band while the crowd cheered for him.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"

More cheers that he absolutely cherished and bathed in, letting them fuel his ego.

"We've got a great show for you tonight, we have special guests The Everly Brothers joining us!"

Your job while Harry was doing his magic spiel on stage was to check in with him during commercial breaks, smooth his hair, offer him mints, refill his water. Also to make sure everything was perfect for him when he wrapped up. He was extremely demanding, and while you were warned of that when you first took the job, you were still so surprised just how needy he was.

He liked ham and tomato sandwiches exactly fifteen minutes before he was put into his hair and makeup chair. He liked a cup of hot tea right before air time, alongside a few tongue twisters. He went through packets of Certs breath mints faster than you thought humanly possible. He also wanted a cup of black coffee waiting for him directly after he got off stage.

He didn't like to talk to anyone on his way to his dressing room unless it was Sal congratulating him and inflaming his already huge ego. Or security telling him about a waiting groupie in his dressing room. Or you, running over his schedule or helping him memorise his script. Well, he didn't like talking to you. He more or less answered in grunts or irritated comments.

As Harry settled in for his show post the joke segment, you ran around backstage. Ordering his coffee and one for yourself because you couldn't keep up with his demands without your own shot of caffeine. You were due within minutes to refresh him during the breed.

It really was an exciting job, aside from being a woman in a man's world. You were treated as such but you were lucky enough to be given the job in the first place. At first, you were nervous around Harry. It took him a second to warm up to you.

The first time you met was when he found you in his dressing room before a show, bent over the vanity as you watered his flowers. He thought you were there for a completely different reason and had quickly started to unbuckle his belt.

"Alright, let's make this quick."

You then spotted him in the mirror and turned with a gasp. "What are you-"

And before it could have got any more awkward, before Harry could even fully unbuckle his belt, Sal stormed in with a shocked laugh.

"Oh!" His amused gaze flickered between the two of you. "Harry, I see you've met your new assistant."

"I don't need an assistant, Sal. We've been through this. Why do you think I got rid of the last one?"

"Well, of course, you do! She's just here to help you perform at your best, Styles. Try not to scare this one off."

And while he'd probably never admit it to you, you actually were very helpful to have around. Once you'd stopped being so awkward and nervous and jittery around him, you found a dynamic that worked. One where he could be a condescending male and you could be just as snappy right back to him.

Past assistants had stuck to him like a bad smell and only irritated him. You did what was expected of you. Nothing more, nothing less. You kept your little purse stocked with certs breath mints, lint rollers and kept that fact that he fucked fans in his dressing rooms after and sometimes before shows quiet.

But after all, everyone was well aware. They even congratulated him on his sexual success. Nothing grossed you out more.

Aside from Harry being a mildly misogynistic, cocky, well-dressed thorn in your side, you loved your job. You met exciting guests whom you only dreamed of meeting. Stars you had posters of in your apartment, musicians whose vinyls you span on your turntable.

In your first week on the job, you met Santo and Johnny. They'd just finished a performance of Sugar Song and they flirted with you until you were a blushing mess.

Harry had watched the interaction, grumbling about professionalism and waiting for them to leave so he could torment you about it.

"Got the hots do ya, little sugar?"

"Kiss off, Styles."

That was the most colourful thing you'd ever said to him. The shock of it raised his brows and sent a singeing pang of arousal directly to his crotch.

There was a part of Harry that wanted to hate you. Because you were a woman bossing him around and because you got on his nerves. But the more rational part of him knew he could never hate you. You were too helpful and he'd be lying if he said you weren't one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen. And he'd seen a lot of girls.

But he knew you were disgusted by his habits, how he slept with so many people. In his own sick way, he used it to his advantage, to keep you at arm's length. That and endless comments he knew would rile you up. And boy, did he rile you up. He'd finessed the art of it.

The show ran smoothly tonight, but by no means were you any less busy. You raced around with your clipboard tucked under your arm and two cups of coffee in either hand. You sipped on yours, grateful for the kick it gave. Harry was saying his goodnight to the crowd, his cup steaming in your left hand as you rushed to meet him.

"Thank you for spending the night with me, New York!"

His classic closing catchphrase. Cheeky and risky, but it was him and he got away with everything.

Thunderous applause overpowered the sound of your heels clicking as you turned a corner, beelining towards the stage exit. You were late. He'd be off stage by now, demanding things and barking orders like the diva he was.

As if you weren't going to hear an earful from him as it was, an intern bumped into you. The crash caused your two cups of coffee to spill all down the front of your dress. You barely noticed the burn.

"Seriously?" You seethed, holding your now empty cups out in exasperation.

"I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching-"

"You don't say."

You could hear Harry asking where you were and you groaned, absolutely vexed. You turned in the exact opposite direction of him and back to grab more coffee. You knew he'd especially need it tonight if he was meeting with his parents.

"What happened to you?" Sal guffawed and you rolled your eyes.

"If you see Harry, tell him that his coffee is coming."

"Bit hard getting it to him when you're wearing it."

"Not funny."

A few minutes later, you held a single coffee cup. Steaming, black. You wrapped both your hands around it, holding it steady and keeping far away from anyone who could bump you. Your dress had seen better days and the stain was obvious and uncomfortably wet.

You found your way back to his dressing room, where he'd no doubt holed himself up in to freshen up. You knocked, hoping he was alone and waiting for you before continuing on with his post-show... rituals.

"Come in!" You heard from the other side and you slipped inside quickly.

"So sorry, Mr. Styles, I had an accid- oh, my god!"

You took in the scene before you. Harry. With a girl on his knees in front of him. His jeweled fingers clenching a fistful of the girl's hair as she sucked him off. His brows were turned down in the middle but his eyes... his eyes were on you. And he was enjoying it. Enjoying the girl, and enjoying you watching.

"Alright, sugar?"

"I-" You didn't know what to say, and the girl didn't stop. You didn't know if that was her doing or if Harry was holding her down. You turned, and idiotically turned back around, taking the few steps towards him, and handed him his cup of coffee. You didn't meet his eyes, like a bumbling idiot.

You left the room, but not before hearing Harry take a hefty sip of his coffee and letting out a soft moan, "Oh, that's so good."

Vexed by his antics, and the fact that he made it his mission to throw you off like that, you signed out and went home. It was as vulnerable as you'd ever seen him and you felt an odd sense of jealously wash over you. Maybe you were jealous of past you, because she hadn't witnessed it. Or maybe there was a bit of jealousy there because you wanted to be the one on your knees for him.

As delightful as the thought was for a margin of a second, you felt ill knowing you'd be another Harry Styles groupie. And it would make your job more difficult which you didn't think was even possible.

But you couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. His blissful expression, the way he directed it at you as opposed to the mouth wrapped around him. He had told you to enter his dressing room so that you could see it.

The next night, you planned on fully avoiding him and pretending the whole thing never happened. Which was hard considering, you know, you were to follow him around and listen to his demands. And especially hard because you just wished he'd command you onto your knees already.

Sure, you found him extremely attractive — everyone did. You may have even had a little crush when you first met him. But then you got to know him, and his habits and his ways. Last night grossed you out just as much as it turned you on. You felt so thrown off and now you weren't sure how to act around him.

You arrived at the studio not too long before showtime, Harry's cup of tea in hand. You were a little bit late today but you figured he could survive fifteen minutes without you. He was in hair and wardrobe, getting his curls perfected and his forehead powered.

He sat in the chair with his legs spread, a pair of black dress pants and a white singlet, his inked arms on display. You focused on staying professional and met his eyes for a brief moment as you greeted him and handed him his cup of tea. No milk, and don't be shy with the honey, he'd told you when you first started.

His eyes scanned your attire, a pink dress with long sleeves but a shorter hem than usual, he noticed. He didn't hate having to look at your legs, your plump thighs, and the intrigue of what was between them ran rampant in his thoughts.

You had a soft yellow ribbon in your hair, keeping it swept away from your face in a high ponytail. He clenched his jaw, wishing it was his hand fisting your hair. He'd tie your hands up with the ribbon so you'd have to behave for him.

"Thanks. Dig pink on ya." He took a sip, his eyes full with mischief as he watched you over the rim of his cup. "Enjoy the show last night?"

You knew he was referring to you seeing him get blown by some random groupie so you ignored him, looking at your clipboard. "So Sal wants to see you in five, and we're reconfiguring some set pieces before airtime. So be on stage straight after you've seen him, okay?"

The hairstylist finished up, and you were left alone with him in the room. You were a lot stiffer tonight, more reserved than usual and he picked up on it right away. You raised a brow, wondering if he'd heard a single word you said.

He smirked. "Why did you come in last night? You know I have post-show celebrations in my dressing room."

"I was bringing you coffee! You told me to come in!" This man was exasperating. He knew that he'd asked you for coffee and told you to enter his dressing room after you'd knocked. He wanted you to see and now he was just winding you up.

He raised a brow. "Did I?"

"Five minutes." You reaffirmed. You tried to hide the way that his tone crept down your spine in slow, hot trickles.

He sat up in the chair, his hand reaching to cup the back of your lower thigh. You stopped breathing at the sudden touch and he pulled you towards him. His gaze was searing on yours, his eyes wondering and daring.

"You wanted to stay, didn't you? Watch me get my dick sucked while I watched you."

"No, I didn't." You whispered, letting him pull you forward until you were standing between his spread legs.

"No?"

"No." Even you weren't convinced by your answer.

"Hmm... you wanted to be the one on your knees for me. Is that it?"

You took a deep, shaky breath. His question fired something off in your brain. A realisation perhaps. You did want to be on your knees for him, being the reason for his pleasure, be at his command, make him feel good, make him fucking fall apart because of you.

"So pretty in this tiny fuckin' dress." He cooed. His hand came up, cupping your cheek. Your eyeshadow was a pretty soft blue and he adored it. His fingers trailed down, tracing your lower lip. "You'd look so perfect with my cock in your mouth."

You couldn't even suppress the whimper that ensued. Did you thank him? Slap him? Get on your knees and prove his point?

He didn't seem fazed by the fact that you weren't saying much. You were responding to him in other ways. Leaning right into him with your eyes lulled, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. Your chest heaving beneath that fucking pink dress. You were driving him crazy with how badly he wanted you.

The night before had been his own sick little test. Either, you'd be game, or you'd pull away from him completely. Regardless, he'd know where you stood and accept all that accompanied him. He knew how fucked up it was but you really seemed to enjoy the game.

His other hand squeezed the back of your thigh, inching higher. "What colour are your panties?"

You gasped at the question, so turned on by him and how bold he was. It used to scare you, but now being on the receiving end was a completely different ballpark.

"Blue." You breathed out.

"What shade of blue?" He pressed on. "Like your eyeshadow?"

You twisted your lips in thought. "Do you want to see?"

Harry released a shocked laugh, but his mind was fucking reeling. Did you really just ask if he wanted to see your panties?

"A peek couldn't hurt."

He gripped your hips and lifted you up onto the vanity behind you. You were shocked that he could lift you so effortlessly and smoothly. You crossed your legs, more to tease him than anything else. Your expression was sultry, and he felt lightheaded at the sight of you. Slowly, you unfolded your legs but didn't open them.

"Don't be shy, sugar. Show me and I'll make it up to you."

You let out a slow exhale, mustering up all of your courage. You were shaking, but it wasn't nerves. He had you so worked up and he had barely done anything. He'd riled you up and talked to you, and you were already fucking saturated.

Your legs parted, feet resting on either side of his thighs on the chair. Harry's eyes stayed on yours, his hands reaching to slide up your thighs, pushing the hem of your pink press up so he could get a good view of you, finally looking down.

And what a fucking view it was. Your thighs were soft, and he let his hands squeeze at them. Sky blue lace covered the area he'd been dreaming about for six months. He let out a soft groan and let his fingertip brush over the skin where your abdomen met the panties.

"Lace? Did you wear these for me?"

"I had you in mind."

"Naughty girl." He smirked, shuffling forward. His thumb brushed over your clothed clit and you let out a whimper, biting your lip to quell anything louder than might to escape. "Can I taste you? Please? Been wantin' to for months."

You nodded, your mouth dry. You'd let this man do anything to you, and hearing him tell you he'd been wanting this for months left you in a frenzy.

"Words, sugar. Let's hear 'em."

"Please," You whispered. "taste me."

"Good girl, that's it." He pulled your panties to the side, desperate to see you and taste you. You were glistening, so wet and plump for him. He sighed, running his thumb along your clit before venturing between your folds to feel how wet you were. Your thighs jolted as he slipped his thumb to collect your excitement and spread it up to your clit.

"Why are you so wet, hm?" He wondered aloud, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Because of you, Harry."

"Me?" Cocky little shit.

"Mm."

"Are you always this wet for me, sugar?"

You hesitated, not sure if you wanted to give him this. He would never forget it, probably remind you that he knew every day. Probably slip his hand up your dress just to appease his own curiosity.

"Only when you're nice to me."

"But you like me mean, don't you?"

"You're an asshole."

"Gets you wet, though."

Abruptly, as if impatient, he lowered his head and attached his mouth to your clit. The scorching heat of it was intense, and you grabbed a fistful of his freshly tamed curls to hold him to you.

His tongue ran over your entirety. From your entrance right back up to your clit, tasting you fully as his mouth closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You threw your head back, rolling your cunt towards his face as he softly ate you with a passion that had you shaking.

Before anything more could occur, Sal knocked on the door, demanding that Harry meet with him. He knew better than to enter any room that was hidden behind a closed door when it came to Harry. But if he'd known it was you behind that door with him, that would be another issue entirely.

You shot up, pushing him out of the way and righting your dress. You were tingling and you could still feel his tongue between your legs. His eyes were dark as he watched you from his seat, amused by your fumbling.

"Go before Sal comes back." You were flustered, your body felt electric and all he'd given you was his mouth for what — ten seconds?

He was too relaxed, and it only pissed you off further. He stood, sauntering towards you to press you against the vanity. His hand cupped your jaw, his rings kissing your skin.

"Funny that you're making demands when I'm the boss."

You breathed heavily, unsure of how to reply so you just held eye contact with him. Your lips parted as his head tilted, inching closer. His hand loosened, melting to your cheek so he could rub it with his thumb.

"Who's in charge, hm?"

"You are."

"That's right." He crooned, his lips brushing yours. "And who's gonna give you his cock later?"

The air was stripped from your lungs, the depth behind his question clear. Would you submit to him? Venture into this connection you had with him? You got on each other's nerves but fuck if there wasn't the most incredible sexual tension between you.

"You are, Harry."

He hummed, gripping your hand and bringing it down to cup his cock. He was hard, and pulsed in your hand when you gave him a squeeze. You just about crumbled when he moaned, his eyes lulling as you did it again. Harder.

"There's my good girl."

Sal knocked again, clearly impatient tonight. Harry smirked and could feel his lips curl against yours before he pulled away. He left the room with a confident strut while you were left shaking. You took a second to catch your breath, willing the arousal between your legs to simmer down before heading back out towards the stage.

You grabbed your purse and kept busy doing your job while Harry caught up with Sal. He was doted over, like always, and Sal told him how his viewings were skyrocketing. After he'd finished up his tasks on stage, he was whisked back to wardrobe so he could be styled.

Because Harry was busy chatting with tonight's guest and getting ready, all you had to do was wait for him to come to you. You peeked through the curtains at the set. The audience was being brought in and you were watching the seats fill from the side of the stage.

A piercing whistle sounded out from behind you and you twirled on the spot. He looked phenomenal. His suit was a sky blue, not too dissimilar to the shade of your panties. His shirt was a crisp white, his chain peeking through where it was unbuttoned, sat between his pecs and the light dusting of hair.

His eyes looked greener when he was dressed in blue, his lips more raspberry. He approached you and your eyes flew down to his shiny black oxfords.

"Whaddya think huh?" He spun on his heels, showing off. "Matchin'."

"Blue suits you."

"Suits you, too." Harry winked, standing close to you before nodding towards the audience. "How's it looking out there?"

Was he... trying to make casual conversation? After his face was between your thighs and all the talk that proceeded it? "Full house, like always. Did you... was that on purpose?"

"What?"

"The blue suit."

"Why else would I ask what colour your panties were, hm?"

"Because you're nosy."

"You know... every time you insult me, I get hard."

"Good thing I have plenty of them, then."

"Come on," He pressed you tight against the wall. "Gimme another one."

"Prick."

He chuckled, amused by how freely you were cursing. "That all you got?"

"You're the cockiest son a bitch I've ever met." You breathed out. His hands pressed to the wall on either side of your head, caging you in.

"Alright." He was crowding your space, the spicy-sweet vanilla of his cologne clouding your senses. He checked to see if anyone was around before clicking his tongue. "Take your panties off."

"What?" You were well aware that any crew member could walk by, and you weren't about to be caught slipping your panties down your legs.

"You heard me. Just lemme hold onto 'em until the show's over."

"Are you bent? I'm not giving you my panties. I need them and someone could walk by at any moment."

"Mellow out, no one's gonna see."

You deliberated in your head, genuinely considering it. His head tilted to the side, gauging your thoughts. This was so... exhilarating. Exciting. You were so out of it for him, and glad that you finally both agreed on something. You were both attracted to each other physically and that was about it.

Fuck it. Your hands reached beneath your dress, and Harry took a step back to give you room, keeping a lookout. You stepped out of those pretty little panties and held them out to him on your index finger. He snatched them up, eyeing how delicate they looked in his hand.

"Far out." He laughed, in shock that you actually did it.

You were a bundle of surprises tonight. He was throwing stuff at you that was pretty out there and you were throwing it right back. Sweet little sugar had a little more spice than he had anticipated.

"Cheers, sugar." He twirled them around on his finger and you slapped his shoulder.

"Don't just wave them around!" You hissed, looking around to make sure no one had seen the whole interaction.

Harry shoved them in his pants pocket and you smoothed out the bump they left, always a perfectionist. The guest of the night turned the corner and almost bumped into the two of you. You jumped apart, letting Harry chat to the guest on his own. He rarely enjoyed it and you looked back to see the subtle hints of irritation on his face. You knew he'd flash that charming smile and those adorable dimples as soon as the cameras came on.

With only a few minutes until the show was due to start, you bumbled around and made sure everything was perfect for him. You were very aware of the fact that you didn't have your panties on, and with your dress being shorter than usual, you had to be careful.

Sal breezed past you, beelining towards Harry and the guest with a huge grin. He greeted them loudly and you did your part by waiting to the side for further instruction. The guest was led to their spot for showtime, one of the stage managers with them to keep them entertained and to give their cues. Harry shook Sal's hand, hearing Sal's usual encouraging words before making his way towards you.

"Feeling okay?" You checked in, handing him a couple of Certs breath mints. You walked side by side towards center stage, and he wasn't shy about his stare on you. It felt different — the air around you. Usually filled with annoyance, was something else. Hotter, dreamier, sensual.

"Snazzy." He nodded, chucking the mints into his mouth. "Little foreplay always gets me goin'."

You huffed out a breath at his response, resisting the urge to retort something cheeky as the stagehand came to run through the show one more time. You righted his outfit, his eyes not leaving you as you made sure he looked smooth and perfect.

As the stagehand left, you grabbed your round brush from your purse and went over his curls. You began adding a little volume while he hummed and oohed and aahed to exercise and prepare his voice.

"You know New York..." You guided.

"You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."

"Again."

He sighed, closing his eyes so he could focus. "You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."

"Lesser leather..." You hinted at another tongue twister. You ran the lint roller across the lapels of his suit jacket and over his shoulders, catching his eyes and not missing the glint in them. "...never weathered..."

"It's funny," He smirked. "you're a tongue twister master right now, but you won't be able to say your own name by the time I'm done with you later."

"Oh my-"

"Yeah, I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you."

"One minute till curtain, everyone!" Sal's voice boomed. "Look alive, look alive!"

The crowd was roaring with applause as the show began, but all you could hear was your pulse in your ears as your heart thudded in your chest. Harry, who usually thrived off of the cheers, was only focused on you. On your sweet voice asking if he wanted to see your panties, on your feisty insults.

"Filmed before a live studio audience..."

You called him a cocky son of a bitch and all he could think about was bending you over his knee and seeing how much shit you talked while his hand was marking your ass with its imprint.

Everyone fled the stage, but you were stood completely still in front of him. Frozen.

"Harry..."

His lips brushed yours again and your ears started ringing.

"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."

"Look at you," He crooned. "Runnin' round with no panties with that pretty ribbon in your hair. Dirty little thing, aren't you, sugar?"

You could feel how slick you were between your thighs and your eyes fluttered as his hand ventured beneath your skirt from behind, cupping your ass cheek with a strong hand before venturing further. His fingertips found your cunt and you almost collapsed against him.

He hummed lowly, rumbling in his chest. He pulled his hand away, very aware that the curtain was close to pulling up. He held his index and middle fingers in front of you, glistening with your arousal, and ran them along your lower lip.

You didn't even hesitate to suck his fingers into your mouth, not losing eye contact. Harry's brows turned down, his mouth dropping as he drawled out a slow fuuuck. And then he kissed you. It was messy and wet and quick. His lips were so soft against your own before he sucked deftly on your tongue, tasting you and your cunt at the same time.

"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."

"Fuck, can we cancel the show?" He growled, holding you to him with a grip on the nape of your neck.

"N-No. I have to go."

"...Mr. Harry Styles!"

You fled from the stage, walking backwards, not wanting to take your eyes off him. His expression was one of longing, his eyes not leaving you either. The curtain lifted, igniting him in the warmth of the stage lighting and the eruption of cheers.

He turned and faced the crowd, waving and blowing kisses. His smile was dazzling, and his blue suit was celestial under the bright glow. He was wrapped in success and adoration. You could see it radiating off him as he found centre stage and bowed.

"Good evening, New York!" He waited for applaud to finish. "How are we?"

You rounded the backstage area, checking in with crew and chatting to the guest.

"Can I just say..." Harry continued, clasping his hands together. "you look ravishing tonight, New York." More praise from the audience. "It's true, you do."

You rolled your eyes at the excited yells and cheers from the crowd. You watched him in a totally new light tonight. He was on a level that no one could reach. He was born to be on stage, to entertain.

He introduced the guest and brought them onstage, talking about their upcoming music and chatting them up. During the commercial breaks you checked in with the guest, and made sure Harry's appearance was on point.

His eyes were on you the whole time, and you could see him fighting the urge to make some kind of questionable comment. His eyes veered south and stayed on where the hem of your dress brushed your thighs.

"Need anything else?" You asked him politely, aware of the audiences stare on your back.

"I won't need coffee tonight." He educated softly and you nodded.

"We're back in fifteen seconds." The cameraman alerted and you gathered your things and went to leave. The guest was busy fixing their hair with the stylist. Harry's hand on your wrist stopped you, pulling you back.

"Actually, there is one more thing." He back peddled, and you raised an expectant brow, leaning in close to hear him. "Stay right over there, okay? Wanna be able to see you."

He pointed to a spot off stage, where only guests and select members of crew like Sal or the director were allowed to stand during air time. And he wanted you there. So he could look over and see you and know you were watching.

"I- Yeah, okay."

You rushed off stage, standing exactly where he told you to. He watched you right until the advertisement break ended.

"And we're back in three... two... one..."

His eyes switched back to the camera, his expression slipping into the charm that came so naturally to him once he was live on air.

He was a star. Delightful and eccentric and unapologetic.

He exchanged more jokes with the guest, who as an up and coming musician, was gearing up for their performance. You stayed to watch the show exactly where Harry wanted you, and you were pleased that you didn't get any slack from Sal. You rarely got to actually enjoy the show like this, and in a way, it felt like Harry had done you a favour.

His eyes often flicked to you after he'd told a joke or said something cheeky. Like he was directed it at you, or maybe he was checking to see if you found him as funny as the crowd did. When you didn't laugh as hard as he thought the joke deserved, he'd try extra hard to get you to laugh at the following one.

It was odd that he was trying to seek validation from you when he had millions at his feet.

As the show wrapped up, you couldn't have applauded him louder. You were proud, you felt giddy and bubbly inside. He was born for this, there was no denying it.

And then there was the realisation of what was to come once the show had finished. You became nervous. And insanely wet. The anticipation rattled yet excited you and you weren't sure what to make of it.

You rounded towards his exit, a crowd of crew and groupies waiting for him. He came to you first, as you were closest. He shot polite smiles to everyone but his attention was on you.

"How'd I do?"

"Phenomenal."

"Did you like my jokes?"

You side-eyed a few people waiting for a shred of his attention and felt the need to rush this interaction between you along. You didn't want to raise suspicions and you also didn't want to take away any attention he could be giving to these people who were clearly waiting for him.

"My tummy laughs from hurting so much." You whispered. His grin was contagious, dimples and his bunny teeth on full display. His eyes were warm as he stared down at you.

"Really?"

"Mhm."

A throat cleared behind you and Harry looked up to shoot them a reassuring wink and then looked back at you. "Wait for me in my dressing room."

It was an order, even with the softness in his tone. You licked your lips, not missing when his eyes caught it. You backed away, slowly pulling your ribbon out of your hair. His jaw clenched as your hair fell free.

"Yes, Mr. Styles. Right away."

His dressing room felt alien to you as you slipped inside, a familiar place with such a different atmosphere now. How quickly the dynamic had changed between you was dizzying. You always knew you were attracted to him, but you never thought you'd act on it.

And you certainly never thought he'd have his mouth on your cunt minutes before a show.

How long were you meant to wait? You checked your appearance in the mirror, your cheeks flushed with excitement. Your dress was pristine, as was your makeup and you wondered how long that would last.

You were riffling through Harry's pile of books when he came in. Your spine straightened, every nerve tingling. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it.

His gaze was one that had you clenching your thighs together. An intimidating hunger, a deep lust. His eyes were dark, void of the bright glint they usually offered. He didn't say anything and that only made the tension thicker.

And then he locked the door with a click.

He took one single step towards you and you inhaled a sharp breath at the slow, torturous pace of it. Like he was taunting and teasing you. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reaching up. He gripped his lower lip between his thumb and index finger, his eyes finding your feet in your Mary Janes and trailing up your legs.

He was slow with that as well as if to keep you on your toes. He had always been so rushed and spontaneous with a lot of what he did. But this.... this he'd been thinking about for a long time. He'd had months to plan this through.

Plan how he was going to play with you, make you beg for him, make you feel good.

He really enjoyed the secrecy of it. And all that would come after. He liked the idea of meeting your eyes at work, both of you exchanging knowing looks because you both knew what it took to pleasure each other.

Fuck. His sex life wasn't complicated. He fucked fans because the likelihood of seeing them ever again was slim. But you were close to home, dangerously so. He saw you all the time. And somehow that just made him want you even more.

He produced your panties from his pocket and came to stand in front of you.

"Now," He began, lowering his head to meet your eyes. "are you going to need help keeping quiet?"

He fucking knew he'd have you screaming for him. He was just being precautious, knowing that on the other side of the door, the studio was littered with crew members.

You shook your head. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't think you're that good."

He rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, huffing out a humourless laugh before pocketing your panties again. You were so snappy and cheeky with him and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his dick so fucking hard in his pants. You were winding him up. Trying to poke at him and provoke him. Well, it was fucking working.

"Oh, you don't think so?"

"I think that's why your ego's as big as it is. Because you can't fuck."

He did what he wanted to do earlier that day; he grabbed your hair in his fist. You gasped through a surprised smile, and he brought you close until you were pressed against him.

"What did I tell you?" His voice was low, thick with arousal. You'd never heard his voice that deep and you felt it between your legs. "Hm?"

"That you won't need coffee tonight?"

He gripped your hair harder and his cock throbbed when you smiled.

"I told you," His eyes were burning. "that I'm going to ruin you."

The way he pronounced every word was electrifying. As if he was really trying to get his message across. How was this the same man that had asked if you laughed at his jokes after his show?

You flicked your tongue against his lower lip. "Do your worst."

His kiss was far harsher this time. Still just as messy, and you figured that was just how he liked it. He wasn't shy about it. He used his teeth, nibbling on your lower lip, biting on your tongue. He used his free hand to fist your dress at the small of your back.

You were pressed tight against him and fuck, he was so hard for you. Even through his pants, you were impressed with his size. You wanted to feel more, experience him fully. You didn't have all the time in the world, locked away in his dressing room. You were both painfully aware.

He pushed you back, landing you in the chair next to the vanity. He stripped off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. You watched as he pushed your dress out of the way, clearly annoyed that the fabric was disrupting him from his goal. Your center was still so wet for him and he couldn't even suppress the low grown at the sight.

"Pretty little pussy," He gripped your inner thighs, holding them apart. "still so fucking drenched for me. You enjoyed watching me onstage tonight, didn't you? Hearing everyone fawn over me but you know you're the one I want."

"I want you, too. So bad, please fuck me." You whined, your hips rocking up restlessly.

"I wanna have a play first."

"Fuck, please just-"

He spat directly between your legs, coating your pussy in his spit. His eyes flickered up to the clock on the wall before he attached his mouth to you with a deep moan. He licked along your entrance and then right up to the sensitive bundle of nerves, fully tasting you again.

He dipped his tongue inside you, fucking you with it before pulling away with a pop and sucking your clit back into his mouth. He trapped it between his teeth and flicked and twirled delicious patterns against it that had your muscles clenching.

He ate you as if he enjoyed it more than you did. He targeted your clit perfectly, able to read your body and its responses so well.

He held eye contact while had his mouth on your cunt, burying his face against you like he couldn't get close enough. Your legs shook on either side of his head, and he kept them spread with his wide hands. You could feel how cold his rings were against your skin.

Your hands reached down, tangling themselves into his curls. You held him against you, his mouth so scorching on you that you felt lightheaded with the tingling heat.

He pulled away momentarily, slipping his index and middle finger in his mouth, all the way until he drew back so teeth were peeling off his rings. He grabbed your hand, taking two of your fingers one by one and replacing the rings on them. They were huge on you but you admired how his jewelry looked on you, the ones he wore while he was on air. Glistening and extravagant.

Now he'd removed them so he could feel you properly.

Deciding that you were wet enough, he ran the pads of his fingers along your entrance. They veered up, circling your clit slowly before heading south again. You cried out softly as his fingers slipped inside you. It was an exquisite sensation and you stared down at him in wonder, mouth agape as you moaned out.

He curled them up, your spine melting as they pressed against a spot inside of you that had before now never been discovered. It was a blinding pressure, tight and full and so fucking good.

Harry smirked at the apparent shock on your face before he moved his fingers, curling them against your g-spot. As he found a rhythm, he brought his mouth back to your clit.

You arched your back, gasping for air as he worked you. He pumped his fingers hard, bringing you higher and higher to an elevation you'd never known. His mouth left your clit and before you could complain at the loss, he was spitting on it once more before giving it a mild slap with his free hand.

You screamed out, not expecting the harshness to feel that enticing. You were being far too loud for him to continue this comfortably. He didn't want anyone to interrupt and moreover, he didn't want you to get in trouble. He wanted to make you come over and over without a care in the world.

The same hand that slapped you retrieved your panties from his pocket before he shoved the lace into your mouth.

If you weren't so blissed out, you may have even be shocked by it. But at that moment, it was so hot and dirty. You trusted him to know best and look after you.

His fingers pulsed against your g-spot and you felt an intensity building in your abdomen and you rolled your hips towards his face. His mouth was relentless on your clit, desperate to get you zoned out with pleasure.

Your walls clenched and ballooned around his fingers and he pulled away, his eyes on you. They were full of lust and hunger, piercing right through you.

"Eyes on me sugar, don't look away." He wanted to watch you. To stare into your eyes, to see your orgasm shatter you.

He pumped his fingers, his pace blinding. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly what to do to get you there. He grunted with the exertion, the tendons in his arm flexing and bulging with how hard he worked you.

And then he smirked, almost pleased with himself. "Have you ever squirted before?"

With your mouth full of lace, you weren't able to verbally answer. You shook your head and he thought the confused frown on your face was fucking adorable.

Before you could even think about what he was asking, the most euphoric explosion of bliss rocked through you. You cried out into the lace, your entire body shaking as you came harder than you ever had before. It was fucking annihilating. You did as you were told, your eyes not leaving his. It was hard, of course. You wanted to shut your eyes and bask in the hot sensation that was taking over every nerve in your body.

But he wanted to watch you. And he wanted you to see the burst of fluid that erupted from your cunt, past his fingers. "Thaaat's it. Good fucking girl, come all over my fingers. Just like that."

You writhed in the chair, grateful for his grip on you. You didn't stop shaking, tremors of pleasure rocking you. He helped you as you came down, your chest heaving and your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You didn't think it was possible for you to come that way, and you could feel yourself becoming addicted to him.

Harry stood, his hand running up and down your thighs, squeezing them. He removed your panties from your mouth, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You blushed as you tasted yourself on his tongue and curiously ran a hand between your legs to feel the aftermath of your orgasm.

He watched, thinking it was so hot to see your fingers venture between your folds and along your dripping thighs.

"Feel nice?" He hummed, chuckling at your curious expression.

"So nice, I've never... I didn't think I could do that."

"You got me all wet, messy girl." He smiled, kissing you again.

He stood and helped you out of your dress, peeling off your bra so he could play with your tits. He sucked and bit at your nipples, feeling the fullness of your breasts in his palm.

"You're delicious all over, sugar." He admired your fully naked body. "Can't wait to feel you properly. See what that tight little cunt feels like around my cock."

He palmed himself as he spoke, so desperate to feel you. His expression was one of lustful longing, and you could feel it resonate between your legs as if you hadn't just had an earth-shattering climax.

"Take your clothes off." You whined, going to sit up and pouting when he stopped you.

He started to unbutton his shirt, revealing the white singlet underneath. "Stay just like that. Wanna give you my cock while you're sitting in my chair."

The chair where he sat before every show. Reciting jokes in the mirror while his hair was fussed over. The vanity where he'd first seen you, bent over it watering his flowers.

He got rid of his shirt, clearly impatient. He peeled off the white singlet too and you could have drooled at the sight of him. His broad torso and shoulders, his toned tummy, his strong pecs. The ink decorating him. Fuck, you probably did drool.

He caught the leg of the chair on his foot and dragged you closer, undoing his pants at the same time. You shifted forward, your hand reaching out to boldly cup his cock. He groaned, lulling his head back on his neck. His hand came over yours and urged you to squeeze him harder.

"You're so hard." You mewled, humming as he watched you feel him. His jaw dropped as you moved your hand expertly.

"I've been hard for you all night."

He was hyper-aware of the position you were both in and that you were on limited time. The studio was due to lock up soon, left only to after-hours security and the cleaners.

You leaned closer, pulling his pants down with his help. You ran your lips along his length over his briefs, letting your tongue flick out. He could feel the heat of your mouth seep through the material and he was losing his mind over the fact that only his briefs separated your mouth from his cock.

You peered up at him through your lashes, grabbing the band of his underwear to pull them down. You'd always been so reserved and controlled but the look on your face when you finally saw his cock had him fucking spiraling. Intimidation, thirst, determination.

With his pants and briefs pooled at his ankles, he guided you to take a hold of him. You obeyed, wanting to please him just as much as he pleased you. You pumped him slowly in your hand, loving how he felt in your fist.

"Your cock is so..."

Harry laughed, cupping your cheek and staring down at you expectantly. "What?"

"Pretty." It wasn't the word you were going for, but it wasn't the wrong word, either. He had a gorgeous cock, so thick and long. It was silky and hot and pulsed in your hand. You were impressed and intrigued.

"Pretty?" His voice was so soft as he regarded you.

"Yeah."

Pretty. He could deal with pretty. His thumb trailed across your lips. "Mm, and how's it taste?"

You pulled away marginally, grabbing his free hand and urging him to grab your hair in his tight first once more. You laid out your tongue and licked the tip of his dick, glistening with precum. You hummed at his taste and took him deeper, using your hand to spread your spit down his shaft.

Harry moaned deeply, taking a solid step forward so that you took more of him past your lips.

"Swallow me."

"Make me."

He narrowed his eyes at you, watching as you opened wide and held still, waiting for him to make you take it. With his hold on your hair, he guided you to swallow his cock. You were able to take about half, your hand working what you couldn't yet fit.

But he was helping you, not pushing you too far but doing it inch by inch. Your eyes began to water and you gagged when he pushed in deep. Your other hand was pressed against his thigh to keep yourself steady.

"Good girl." He praised, his voice low. "Take my cock so fucking well, don't you?"

He couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. He'd imagined this day far too many times to count, and it was always blurred by the unpleasant dynamic you two shared. But here you were, sucking him off after he'd made you explode around his fingers.

You loved having him down your throat. You enjoyed the challenge. He was so big and when you were able to take all of him, it was a feeling of satisfaction. He held you down until you were choking and your nose was buried in the hair around the base of his cock.

He wiped a tiny bit of smudged mascara from under your eye, admiring the blue of your eyeshadow and the colour of your lips as they wrapped around his cock. Fuck, he needed to be inside you. He was desperate for it.

He slipped you back onto the chair, angling you so that you were open to him. It happened so quickly and your mind was reeling at the sudden change. He was in full control and had no issue putting you where he wanted you. And you trusted him. He was so arrogant and you wanted to see if his bite was just as harsh as his bite. Considering the wet mess you'd made, it definitely was.

"Fuck, can't wait to feel you properly." He sighed, grabbing his cock at the base and running his tip between your legs.

Your gripped his arms, absentmindedly smoothing your fingers over some of his tattoos. "Beg me."

"What?" He raised a brow, his tone perplexed.

"Beg me to let you fuck me. You're an asshole, tell me you're sorry and beg me. Then I'll let you fuck me."

You didn't miss the way his cock throbbed when you called him an asshole, the flex in his jaw as he took in your words. Beg? Apologise?

He scoffed. "That's cute. As if you don't get so fucking wet when I'm an asshole to you. Just like how hard I get when you call me shit like that with that filthy mouth of yours."

You rolled your hips up, gripping his hip to pull him closer to you. "Please, baby. I wanna hear you beg."

The very tip of him slipped inside of you and you both moaned at the sensation. You were so wet and tight and he knew he could step forward and be inside you fully. But the expectant look you were giving him stopped him.

He gripped your throat, leaning down so he could bend over you. He gritted his teeth, his eyes hard on yours. "Please let me fuck you, sugar. Get you gushing on my cock over and over, fuckin' drown in your wet little pussy."

"Are you going to be nice?"

"But it's better when I'm mean." He crooned. "I'll make you take my cock, fuck you so hard, and won't stop until you cry."

Your eyes fluttered as he inched forward a little, sliding himself in further. The head of his cock was so snug inside of you and the way he stretched you had your toes curling. You brought your legs higher, hitching them up to his sides.

"Please," You mewled.

"Tell me, sugar." He needed to hear you say it. "Tell me you want me to fuck this dreamy cunt."

"Fuck me, Harry. Please."

"Hard?"

"Hard."

His hand tightened around your throat as he rolled his hips forward. He stretched you, so fucking big that he had to take his time to push past your tightness. His gaze narrowed as he pressed in tight, his hips flush against you. As he became fully buried inside of you, your vision tunneled on him and him only. On how good he felt, how his eyes were trained on yours.

He'd thought about what you'd look like stuffed full of his cock but he could never have imagined you being this perfect. Whimpering and moaning so fucking sweet while his hand was wrapped around your throat.

"Please move." You begged, feeling so overwhelmed with him being so thick inside of you but not moving.

He slowly retracted his hips, your pussy trembling to keep him there. He slowly pushed his hips forward again, groaning lowly as you clenched around him. He started out slow as first, wanting to ease you into it, his hands holding onto your sides. But you were desperate.

"You call that hard, baby?"

He shook his head, smiling at the bite in your tone. "You sure you can handle it?"

"What did I tell you about that ego of yours-"

He growled, seeing that you were toying with him again. He didn't want you to have the upper hand. So he started fucking you. Hard and relentless and strong. You cried out at his strength, his cock pumping against your g-spot so perfectly.

"Fuck yes, take my cock. Good fucking girl."

It was electrical. You were saturated from your orgasm he'd given you, he hit so deep, pushing against your front wall. He gripped your breasts, admiring as they bounced while he fucked you. He spat on them, unashamed in his desires to be so fucking dirty with you.

"Love your tits." He grunted. "Let me fuck them one day, sugar. Wanna see them fuckin' dripping in my cum."

"Yes, take whatever you want." You gasped.

You'd let him. He was cheeky and an asshole but he fucked you far better than anyone else ever could and he was just getting started. And you could find ways to keep his mouth busy when it started spouting nonsense.

"Yeah?" He hung over you, his curls dangling down. "Will you let me have you again, hm? Let me fuck your throat, your tight cunt, fuck- make you my plaything?"

"I want to be your plaything." You sighed, his necklace swinging in your face, glistening silver.

"You do, don't you? I'll have this pussy on my tongue while I memorise my script. Carry your panties around in my pocket and give them back to you when you've earned them."

The pressure was blinding and he brought your legs up over his shoulders so he could take you even harder. The legs of the chair scraped obnoxiously against the ground as he fucked you into it. He was brutal, making you take his cock with each harsh thrust.

You cried out, sobbing his name. He was so deep and you knew you'd be feeling him for days after. He picked you up, sitting you on the vanity. You leaned back against the mirror, icy against your back. He hauled your hips towards him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He took his cock in his hand and fisted your hair with the other, holding you still so he could slide inside of you again. You clenched around him mercilessly, and he had to flex his hips harder so he could take you properly.

The vanity jolted on its legs under the force of him. Your hand wraps around his neck, trying to stabilise yourself against the onslaught of his thrusts.

"Call me an asshole again."

"Harry-" You jolted underneath him. "Fuck, you're an asshole."

"Yeah? Wanna hit me?"

"W-What?"

"Fucking do it. Slap me like I know you've been wanting to for the past six months."

Your hands clutched at his curls. Hitting him was the last thing on your mind right now while he was inside you. Until he'd brought it up, that is. You'd wanted to slap him on a daily basis and you wondered if he'd been reading your mind.

Mustering up courage enough to do so, you raised your hand and slapped his cheek. Not as hard as you could have, but the groan he emitted told you that you weren't gentle, either.

"So good." He grinned, his cheek reddening from your hand. You gripped his jaw harshly, licking your handprint before kissing him.

Your kisses moved to his neck and he tilted his head to give you more access to the skin. He flicked his eyes to his reflection in the mirror, finding his lustful expression, his cheek red, His eyes were alight with danger and arousal, driving his hips into you as he stared at himself. You moaned loudly as he pounded into you, unrelenting. Wanting you so out of it so that you could never look at him the same way again.

He imagined you looking at him during rehearsals, looking down at your Mary Janes with flushed cheeks. Your soft cadence as you asked him when he would fuck you next. Your surprised gasp when he'd pull you into a supply closet to fuck you hard and quick before anyone noticed your absence.

Just as you grew accustomed to the position, he flipped you, brushes and hair products flying off the top as you found balance on it. Your eyes met his in the mirror and they blazed through yours as he pushed himself into your warmth again.

"Fuck," He hissed, throwing his head back as you gripped him tightly. He held onto your shoulder and fucked you, near on slamming you into the furniture. His hand crept up to cup your throat, the other doing the same as he found a rhythm.

"Right there, don't stop." You gasped.

"Gonna think of this every time I'm in this room." He grunted. "Sit in that chair before a show and think about your perfect cunt around me. How you smile when I wrap my hands around your throat, how much you love having my cock to choke on."

"I want you to fuck me on this vanity every day, Harry."

"Every day, Sugar." He was breathless. "So much I wanna do to you. Play with you, make your pussy cream for me. Fuck, how did we go so long without this?"

He started using his height to his advantage, screwing down into you. You struggled to grasp clarity, your senses clouding as pleasure took over. His hands tightened around your throat and he took you harder when a ghost of a smile touched your lips.

He slipped two of his fingers in your mouth, hooking them into your cheek and pulling. He hissed at how fucking submissive you were and how you were willing to be just as dirty as him.

Letting go of your neck entirely, one hand moved to your hip and the other to your hair. He pulled you up, forcing you to look into the mirror.

"I'm an asshole but I fuck you good, don't I?"

You wanted to slap the smirk off his face. He could sense your annoyance at how cocky he was. He took you harder and you eyed him in the reflection, not wanting to give him an answer. And that didn't work for him.

He gripped your hair tight, pulling you back until his lips met your ear.

"Don't I?" He spat.

"Yes,"

He spanked your ass. Hard. Twice. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, you fuck me good."

Pleased, Harry reached in front of you, getting you to wet his fingers with your tongue before rubbing fast circles on your clit. Your legs turned to jelly, your body melting against him as he took you hard and played with your clit.

You felt the rush of pleasure wrap around you and grow in every nerve ending. He watched you in the mirror, intent on seeing you come again. He held you up while you writhed in his arms, his hips unyielding as he split you in half with his cock.

Your hands flew out, pushing various things off the vanity top as your orgasm barrelled towards you. Harry gritted his teeth, bending his knees to follow you as you moved so he could keep fucking you.

"You gonna come? Hm? Dirty fucking girl. Running around the studio with no panties on. This cunt was so wet for me from the start, wasn't it? Tiny dress, bossy little heels, and that fucking clipboard."

This climax was more intense than the first, but no less wet. You exploded around his cock, crying out his name before his hand came over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"Shhh. Good girl. Keep coming on my cock, don't stop, don't stop." He was feral at how good you felt around him, rubbing your clit until you were trembling at the overstimulation. His hips slowed, faltering. He was losing composure the tighter your pussy clenched around him.

He picked you up, not wasting any time in settling back on the small couch in the room. He laid flat on his back, while you straddled his hips. Your hands ran over his chest, nails digging into the skin as he gripped your ass and moved your hips.

His cock sat snuggly between your folds and you shamelessly rolled yourself along his length. You felt empty without him inside you and you lifted up, grabbing his length with a shaking hand, and slid him back into your warmth.

You both moaned out softly, his cock throbbing inside you. He could feel how close he was, as could you. Your hot and wet and dreamy cunt wasn't helping him stave it off. His vision was trained on you sitting on top of him like a fucking angel. Your tits, red from his teeth, your full hips, and your blissed-out expression.

He rolled his hips up softly, encouraging you to move. "Ride me, sugar."

You found a rhythm that had you shaking, so sensitive from your orgasms His cock pressed deliciously tight against your g-spot with every roll forward. With your hands flat on his chest, you started to bounce on him. You were so wet and the sound of it was making him crumble. The wet slaps and the way your pussy was drenching him.

His gaze met yours and he just about came. Your eyes lulled, cheeks flushed and your mouth agape as you fucked him. The most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. He grabbed your tits, playing and pulling your nipples with deft fingers. He strained his neck, moaning as you picked up your pace.

You wanted him to finish. To feel the toe-curling euphoria he'd given you. The one given when a connection like the one you had was this electric.

"Ooh, shit. Just like that." He praised, squeezing your hips so hard you knew they'd bruise.

"Yeah? You love watching me bounce on your cock, don't you?"

You'd thrown his own tactic right back in his face. The sweet voice with the daring question. Of course, he loved it. He was addicted.

"Fuck yes."

Your hand trailed up, lightly wrapping around his throat. He could feel the rings he'd given you to wear against his skin and he snarled, holding your hips and screwing up into you, meeting your thrusts. Having you fuck him with your hand around his throat had him fucking spiraling into another dimension.

"You're close," You mewled, his cock throbbing hard inside you. "I can feel it."

"Yeah? Go on, make me cum. I'm gonna cum so fucking hard for you, sugar. Gonna fill you right up, fucking take it. Take all my cum- fuck."

He let you take him while his orgasm hit. It was white-hot intense, his grip on you not lessening as he moaned out your name. He pumped you full of his cum, the thick white ropes painting your walls. His brow turned down in the middle, his lips parted a little and you could see the whites of his teeth. The thick cords in his neck protruded under your hand.

He was stunning and animalistic and brazen, even in a time when one is most vulnerable.

The muscles and tendons in his arms flexed as he held you down on top of him, humming out lowly as the flames of his orgasm dimmed into embers.

And while neither of you was sure how it would feel post the explosion, you'd expected at the very least that it would be awkward. You didn't have the fondest attachment towards each other but fuck if you weren't addicted to each other's bodies now.

He sighed, reeling in his climax. His hands crawled up your sides, encasing you and encouraging you to come down to him. He hugged you, sighing in your neck before kissing the skin. You could hear a commotion in the hallway of the crew leaving and it suddenly sunk in that you'd just fucked your boss.

And neither of you could wait to do it again.

"Should we get out of here?" He asked after a few minutes.

"We?"

"Mm. Head back to mine if you want. Got the new Sam Cooke vinyl we can jam out to."

You grinned, trailing your finger along his lips. "Can we fuck again?"

His expression mirrored yours. "We are definitely fucking again. Don't have to be as quiet at mine, wanna hear how loud you get."

You rolled your hips, feeling his cock softening and his release beginning to trickle out of you. He hummed, squeezing you as if to warn you.

"Behave, sugar."

"But that's no fun."

He couldn't disagree with that. He checked the clock and knew there was only a slim window of time for you both to leave the studio without raising any brows.

"Come on." He slapped your ass. "Let's clean up and cut out."

You slipped into the bathroom, your legs shaky from how hard he'd taken you. You cleaned up, as he'd told you to. Your reflection in the mirror was a sight for sore eyes and you tried your best to look presentable and not freshly fucked.

As you entered the dressing room again and gathered your things. Harry had dressed in his more casual clothes, a pair of mint dress pants and a t-shirt, throwing his fur coat over his shoulders. He noticed the way you slipped on your dress and smoothed out your hair, touching up your lipstick. He approached you, wrapping his arms around you as you stood in front of the vanity.

"You know I'm just gonna get you all messy again, don't you?"

"I'm counting on it."

He smirked, kissing your neck and fisting the hem of that tiny dress. You pulled away, eyeing the time. You bent over, going to pick up your panties and frowning when he snatched them up before you could.

"Hey, I need those."

"What'd I say, hm? You'll get them back when you earn them." He slipped the blue lace in his pants pocket, straightening his fur coat and holding out his hand.

"Jerk." You walked towards him, nudging his hand away and leaving the dressing room. A showcase that the feisty dynamic between you was here to stay. The lights were off in the studio now, aside from a few dim ones high up on the walls. He scoffed, racing after you. He lagged behind a few steps, wanting to watch your legs as you walked. You turned, throwing him a dubious look and he smiled innocently as he was caught checking you out. "What are you-"

A gleam of a security guard's flashlight lit up the wall next to you. Harry swore, pulling you towards the exit before you were spotted. You wouldn't get in trouble per se, but being sneaky was so much more exciting than sticking around.

"Shit- let's haul ass, sugar. Wanna play with you all night."

The warmth and adoration he felt on stage, under those lights with every pair of eyes set on him. It was a dimmed sensation compared to how he felt with you. His sugar. Saccharine yet equally as fervent, gooey and thrilling and sticking to him as if magnetised to his cells. 

[colourstreakgryffin]

I have a little suggestion 😔 Buuuttttt If you could…. could you write for human Ryuk for death note? You gotta hear me out though

You know what… I’m fine with this. I’ve always had Ryuk as one of my fav Death Note characters so why not? For real, for real… he’s so hot in this form! He went from badass and scary to precious hottie

Ryuk- Master of Trickery

Instead of Light, you’re his human and his notebook holder. Ryuk can’t deny that you’re interesting and he is gonna enjoy following you around through your time using his Death Note. In his Shinigami form, he doesn’t really notice how he looks and just excuses it. Suspecting you’ll be fine with him

But you’re curious what Ryuk really can do so when you two are finally alone in your bedroom. You ask Ryuk openly what powers he has, how Shinigami work and whilst Ryuk isn’t that enthusiastic since he considers it boring, he obliges

When he mentions he can transform into a human disguise, that lets him be visible to humans, besides you, as well. You immediately play with the fire that is Ryuk and ask him if he can demonstrate this shapeshifitng ability of his for you

Ryuk wasn’t planning on this when he dropped his notebook onto Earth… he’s been asked by his new human to transform for them? Well. He does it anyway since he suspects it may be fun to troll people with it so he puts his big clawed hand over your eyes

And in a flash. This monstrous yet unique shinigami is now an attractive tall man with pretty black lips and a style that matched the infamous detective, L. Your eyes sparkle with shock at your Shinigami’s transformation as Ryuk lets out a comment that he hasn’t redone this in such a long time

Ryuk noticed the way you gaze at him with surprise and awe, commenting snarky about it but mainly feeling his bare chested self, his baggy slightly undone trousers hugging his humanoid hips as both of you are impressed by the almost Frankenstein stitched patchy skin pieces on his body. He looks like a human but still… a Shinigami

Ryuk does decide to perform this feat again. Pranking you with it, he’ll transform into his human form then putting on a bunch of makeup, stealing the Death Note and pretend he isn’t Ryuk when you ask him. It’s hard to tell since he put a lot of heart into these types of pranks on you

Ryuk needs his apples, even in his human form, so people around him, who can now see him, find him odd for how much he is downing just normal red apples eagerly whilst you and him are at the grocery store

Ryuk cringes badly whenever anybody makes a mention that you and him must be a couple. He isn’t interested in any humans but damn god, he does enjoy the way you seem attracted to his human form. It’s a nice ego boost

Ryuk mainly transforms into his human form and heads out in public with you during your vile little plans to kill your targets as to stay on the back and do as you ask by not showing off his shinigami side, should you let your victims touch the notebook, but it’s not like he minds. He feels handsome like this

Ryuk also takes full advantage of all the girls who admire him in his human form, liking to annoy you by flirting and playing with humans that are drooling all over him. It’s nice, so entertaining and he won’t let you pull him away from it

Ryuk doesn’t use his human form transformation as much as one would suspect, from a guy like him. Mainly because he is too accustom to his Shinigami self that being human feels odd but it doesn’t mean he won’t do it to make you and other girls flaunter over him, for the fun of it

Ryuk does tease you a lot for finding his human form attractive… like, a lot, he doesn’t ever shut up about it. He’ll make you regret ever asking him to demonstrate his abilities… since well, that’s Ryuk

“Eh? What’s with that look… oh. You like the goods; my skin, my eyes, my hair, ‘mm? You’re just as nasty as those other humans. I enjoy it, keep looking”

[vanillablankcanvas]

Viva - General Princess/Mother of Two 💛

Gave her 'Quirky Aunt' vibes. On the discord a few of us agreed that Viva would absolutely be into knitting/crocheting cause it's like braiding but without hair! I imagine the Putt Putt's embraced a lot of hobbies that didn't require any unnecessary noise. So this outfit, Viva embroidered and sewed everything herself.

Poppy - Queen of the Pop Trolls/ Mother of Three 🩷

Poppy has grown into a wise Queen. Tried to make her outfit look like a fully grown blossom to show she has really come into her own as a ruler.

It's interesting trying to balance her outfit between Queen's Gown/Party Dress/Nature Vibes/Poppy Style

Branch - King of the Pop Trolls/Twice Former Pop Idol/Father of Three 💙

Look at our boy!!! 😍 The vest finally gave in and fell apart. Satin and Chenille repurposed the materials to become his 'daily use' crown. Think it would be a cool way to portray him finding his own rhythm as a ruler. He doesn't have to fit a certain mold or fill anyone else's shoes, he just needs to be Branch. 💙

Read somewhere that the hair growth portrays their 'reaching their full potential' e.g Branch at the end of Trolls 1 and Barb at the end of Trolls 2.

Clay - Sir Clay/Accountant/Notary/Knight/Father of Two 💚

Someone suggested that Clay's hair would start turning darker with age and he would hate if someone pointed out it was like JD's hair. Bro would rather be bald!

Clay takes care of finances. He hangs around Branch a lot as they both handle Pop Village's safety procedures and are both raising Pop Royalty. They also come to each other for advice about handling Poppy and Viva.

Floyd - Director of Shattered Diamond Management/Trolls Rights Advocate/Father of Five 💔

He performs at fundraisers to help abused Trolls and helps others thrive with their own music. He is a mentor for new performers and advisor for multi-genre relations.

Tried to give him handsome CEO/Boss/Director meets Emo vibes 😜

Plumped him up a little coz he knows has access to three meals a day plus desserts.

John Dory - Manages the Pop Village Stables/Head Critterchanic 🤎

Bro is making use of all the knowledge he gained about critters when surviving in the wild. He is now working as a Critterchanic, maintaining and caring for the larger critter vehicles in Pop Village.

In my Au in particular he is also married to Sable. I should draw her in my newer style 😁

Bruce - Owner of Bruce and Son's and One Daughter 💜

Going on fifteen years of marriage, thirteen grown children and he just found out he's gonna be a Grandfather!

He's wearing a guayabera with a similar flower print as his old vest.

Before and After

Wanted to know what they'd look like after another 20 years. Poppy and Branch would be in their early 40's while Viva and the Bro's would be late 50's.

I liked figuring out how to age them! Ultimately I think the thing that helped the most was making their hair 'flatter' and 'wilder' along with the grey/white streak.

I want to draw them like this more.

Hope you like them. 💖

[funlovinzara]

Reigen Arataka x Gyaru! Reader

Requested by - @whyisummmuknow

(Heads up: the type of gyaru isn’t specified! You’re free to choose whatever!)

Intro: Reigen and Mob were assigned to complete an exorcism at an abandoned hotel, however there was a 90s throw-back festival that ended up slowing them down.

Warnings: None/Fluff

*brrrrr* *brrrr* Mobs phone rang, he picked up to see Reigen calling “Hello?” Mob says monotoned. “Hey Mob, it’s the usual, we have an exorcism down at the abandoned hotel from the 2000s.” Mob nods “Oh okay, but Master Reige-.” Reigen feeling exotic, cuts off Mob. On the other side of the phone he does his classic arm movements, “Don’t worry Mob, it’s going to be a breeze.” Mob was actually going to mention the fact that there would be a festival today and that there normal time would be slowed trying to bypass everyone. But as usual, he said nothing and went with it.

Mob showed up to the office, Reigen already prepared to leave. “Ah hey Mob! Is dimple with you?” Dimple appears out of hiding from Reigens annoyance. “Yup…right here.” “Alright let’s go!” Reigen takes a look at his phone while walking to check the newest news and he was the only one who didn’t know about the throwback festival, at the exact time they left the office.

“Hey….hey did you guys know about this?” Reigen says showing his phone to Mob and Dimple. “Yeah everybody knows, it’s an event that happens every decade.” Said Dimple, unfazed. Reigen shrugged a little disappointed, “We might go through some trouble, let’s hurry.” The group moves quickly towards the abandoned hotel, but it was too late. The festival had already begun so they had to slow down, however Mob and Dimple didn’t mind slowing down and watching. Mob was in awe at all the cultures and sub-genre’s of clothings from years before.

“Wow master Reigen, these people are really having fun!” Reigen sighs in an unpleasant tone, “This is not what we came here to do, we wont get all the money if we don’t finish in time, lets get a move on and-.” Reigen turns while talking and walks into someone a part of the festival, your drink falls out your hand and onto the sidewalk. “Hey!” You say booming towards to group. “I hope you’re going to help me pay for that.”

Reigen with his eyes on the ground, says “listen ma’am we don’t have time….time…TIME…?” He looks up and takes a look at your flashy physique and makeup. Mob and Dimple look just as astonished. “Uhhhh” Reigen is at a loss for words. Mob however really wanted to speak to you, everyone at this festival has seemed so unique and joyous. “I really like your style miss..” you look at the boy and grin slightly, still a bit angered your drink was spilled. “No need to be formal, im y/n!” Reigen butts in “Well y/n we have an important job to do, really i do apologize for the inconvenience but we really gotta go.”

You take a look at the man,

Hes quite handsome..

His suit is ironed with a tight fit around his chest and legs, showing very slight muscle. His eyes with a bland but seemly seductive aura beams towards your own eyes. His hair, a bit frizzled but still neat. Taking a closer look he appears to have tiny freckled spots and smooth lips. “Ah right.” Reigen may or may not have a soft spot for your cute face and exaggerated eye makeup, he finds it attractive. “Well y/n, heres my card. Anyway Mob let’s go! We’re gonna be late!”

“Oh..bye y/n!” Mob waves, you wave back with a smile.

The group runs off and you stand there with the card and look down, ha. Fake business card, its just his number.

Dimple swoops over to Reigen. “I definitely saw that, looks like someone is trying out new things these days.”

“Shut up dimple.”

Sorry for the short stories guyss i will keep trying to make longer ones

[loveshotzz]

I hope I’m not late for request this🥹:

[inside one muses’s office] with AIRWIY!Steve? And reader give him his first blowjob?🥹

So this one got a little out of hand, but 🥺 I love him and he deserves the best head in the world if you ask me. Thank you for your request! 💕 I hope you like it!

older!steve x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ age gap, new established relationship, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, smidge of size kink, smidge of daddy kink, finger sucking, swallowing.

wc: 2.8k

A/N: This request is apart of my completed series All I Really Want Is You, but can be read as a stand alone. For those that read the series this takes place shortly after chapter ten.

It was supposed to be a nice lunch in his office on your day off. You weren’t supposed to be giving him elevator eyes from the other side of his desk while he complained to you about his day. But no one had warned you about what middle of the work day Steve looked like. Not quite as dishievied as the end of it when he’s checking his mail, but not put together like when you see him leave his house through your bedroom window when the sun is barely touching the sky. More importantly, you didn’t know about the glasses.

The thin silver frames sit perched on the end of his nose with hair that looks like he just started running his hands through it. The slicked back style it began the day in still sticks to some of his auburn locks while the rest develop a crazed mind of their own. He had popped open the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt, revealing a matching tank top underneath and the beginnings of the soft dark thatch of hair that covers his chest. His sleeves are rolled up to the middle of his forearms, and the tan he still has left over from the last few days of summer makes his skin look bronzed. The scruff that lines his jaw is thicker today than he’d usually allow too, but that’s because he’d forgotten his razor in your bathroom the last night he slept over. 

God, he was handsome. 

“Wrapping up at the end of a season, especially one where we didn’t make it to the finals has been nightmare, honey.” He rubs his eyes from under his glasses leaning back in his seat. 

He was stressed too.

The leather squeaks with his movements, and your gaze finds its way to his newly revealed waist. His black dress slacks are pulled tight over his thighs, and the silver buckle of his belt gleams when it hits the sun spilling in from his office windows. 

“Just one more week till your vacation,” you remind him gently, your fingers playing with the hem of the sundress and you catch the way his eyes track your movements, wetting his lips.

“One more week till I get to have you all for myself.” He counters, making you giddy at the thought of your first trip together to New York, “enough about my day though. Let me get a better look at this pretty dress you’re wearin’, is it new?” 

There’s heat flickering behind his gaze when he gestures for you to stand in front of him, something a little mischievous in his grin that makes your skin buzz.

“Yeah, I got it at Lost Girls after work the other day. I’d been looking at it for a while through the window, thought I’d do something nice for myself.” Your nerves make you ramble as you get up, but Steve thinks it’s cute. He thinks everything you do is cute.

“It’s really, really nice baby,” he praises when you get in front of him letting his eyes roam all the ways it hugs your curves just right, like it was made custom for your body and his slacks get a little tighter. “You look so beautiful, give me a little twirl.”

Your face burns like it’s the middle of June at his request, and the golden emerald of his eyes get darker from behind his lenses. The air around you both turns electric when your already short hem flutters out around the tops of your thighs, spinning around twice for him, just enough to give a glimpse of the red lace that hugs your ass cheeks underneath. 

“You gonna be wearing this tonight when I pick you up for dinner?” He asks with big hands reaching out for you, begging you to get closer.

“I didn’t know we had plans tonight.” You giggle letting your wedges carry you to the space he made for you between his legs. The cedar and spice of his cologne envelopes your senses when you get close enough for his hands to find the back of your thighs pulling you to him with a squeal.

The whites of his teeth show when he looks up at you with a smile that steals your breath away, squeezing at the soft dough under his palms.

“What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t show you off any chance I got?” The pads of his thumbs swipe against the hem of the lace that meets at the curve of your ass, butterflies in your stomach because you’ll never get used to hearing him say that.

“Yeah, I’ll wear it, handsome.” You agree, making him hum in approval. 

He lets you run your fingers through the soft silk of his hair, silver strands showing themselves to you in a mess of dirty blonde and auburn as you scratch along his scalp. Steve groans at the feeling and it goes straight to your core, his long fingers tightening around the plush of your thighs, leaning his forehead against the soft pudge of your tummy with his eyes closed.

“Fuck,” He mumbles against you, the wheels on his chair roll him closer as his hands grip higher, warm palms finding the dough of your buttcheeks when you scratch at the nape of his neck. 

You watch the way his shoulders slump, the muscles in his body finally starting to unwind from your touch. You want to unwind him more.

“Steve?” His name comes out in just above a whisper, your nerves threatening to get the best of you. 

“Hmm?” He hums in response, too lost in the feeling of your nails dragging over his scalp.

“Let me take care of you.” Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you tug a little at his roots asking him to meet your gaze. 

“Honey,” It doesn’t sound like a protest, and it doesn’t feel like it either when his nails dig half crescent moons into the backs of your thighs, staring up at you with wide eyes.

You remember the empty hallways on your way up. Everyone was gone for the season, including Richard.

“You’ve been working so hard, you deserve it.” You cup the side of his face, your body buzzing when he leans into your touch. “Will you let me?”

“I - “ Wetting his lips, Steve glances at the door before bringing his attention back to you, “yeah, okay, shit, yeah.”

You hold his heavy lidded gaze with a confidence he’s never seen before as you drop to your knees, the nails that were just in his hair dragging along his thighs and it sends him reeling. He doesn’t know how long you’ve thought about this.

The carpet is rough on your freshly lotioned skin, the bottom hem of your dress pulling up over the tops of your thighs. Leaning back in his chair, the new angle gives him the perfect view down the deep heart shaped neckline of your dress. The necklace he got you on your first date shimmers just above the swell of your breasts and it makes his cock press into the metal of his zipper. He wishes he could take a picture of you right now.

“You want this baby?” His voice comes out gruff when he asks, the gold inside his eyes darkening to something almost black as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You have no idea, just how bad I want it … daddy.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, you punch the air out of his lungs in a low exhale through his nose when you don’t hesitate to start working at the silver of his belt buckle.

“Fuck, you can’t say - ” He huffs out exasperated, contemplating taking a half day so he can spend the rest of it in bed with you. 

Leather squeaks underneath him when he lifts his hips to help you tug his pants down. The hard outline of him strains against his briefs, mouth watering when you notice the darkened spot where he’s already leaking into the black cotton. More confident now, your palms find purchase on the tops of his hairy thighs, leaning forward you let heat of your breath make him twitch, earning a low groan when your lips trail like a ghost behind it.

“Can’t say what?” Your tone drips innocence, your bottom lip tugging down against the covered head of his cock before lifting your gaze with a mischievous smirk, relishing in the sharp inhale he takes through his teeth. 

“I think you’re gonna kill me.” He almost laughs, running a hand over his face. Pushing up his glasses in the process he settles his heavy gaze on you with a lazy grin as they slide down the slope of his nose.

You hum, glossed lips twisting at the corners as you hook your fingers in the elastic of his briefs, giving them a gentle pull to signal what you want. Steve gives it to you without any hesitation, the full weight of his cock slapping against his stomach making your thighs press at the thought of being stretched by it. The pink tip swipes against the hem of his button up that sits rucked up at his belly button and you don’t think you’ll ever be immune to just how big and pretty he is.

“That wouldn’t be very nice of me huh?” you tease looking up at him with a pout.

“Nuh-uh” He mumbles, face crumpling a little watching your fingers try to wrap around the base of him, the tips of them just barely meeting on the other side. The grip he has on the armrest of his chair, stretches his skin so tight the whites of his knuckles start to show.

“And, I wanna be nice,” he feels like velvet in your hand, the pad of your thumb tracing the large vein that runs up the side, before swiping over his sensitive head. You collect what he’s already given to you with enough pressure to make his toes curl inside his wingtip dress shoes.  

Leaning forward, you slowly let your tongue run the length of him, feeling the way he twitches against the muscle before paying extra attention to what’s weeping for you, swirling your tongue around the tip. Salty and little sweet from the way he drinks his coffee in the morning, you hum pleased when he hits your taste buds. 

“God, honey.”

You don’t give him any warning when you wrap your lips around him, a greedy tongue flattening along the underside. Gagging when he hits the back of your throat, you still try to open up just a little more, your hand keeping up with what you can’t reach.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve’s jaw goes slack, eyelids growing too heavy to keep open at the heat of your mouth enveloping him. His head pushes further into his chair while he fights to keep his hands from flying to the back of yours.

Scooting closer, you feel him spread his legs even more, and your hand that’s not wrapped around the base of his cock, slides down his thigh. The blunt ends of your nails dragging through the rough curls that cover it.

“That’s - that’s so - shit, you’re making me feel so fucking good.” He grunts, finally working up enough strength to pry his eyes open to get a look at what he’s dreamed of a million times alone in the shower. “Always so good to me baby.”

You moan at his words, the praise drowning out the dull throb in your knees from the hard floor, and your throat opens up just a little more, the tip of your nose a ghost against his thick happy trail.

“You like that?” The tone he uses is deep, like someone laced the honey it’s always had for you with cinnamon. “You like when I tell you how good you are?”

Hollowing out your cheeks, you suck even harder, the wetness between your legs only getting worse when he lets out a strangled groan. You slowly work up the length of his cock with tight lips, before releasing him with a loud ‘pop’. For a second Steve thinks he might add more to the shining mess that covers your face, spit still connecting your chin to his sensitive head. 

You drag your teeth over your swollen bottom lip, his dark eyes tracking the movement when it pops back into place, twitching in your hand that hasn’t stopped pumping him. He thinks he likes this better than your gloss. You nod in response with a smile and he can’t believe is a little shy. 

Leaning forward, he wipes your chin with his thumb before tracing where your teeth just were with the pad of it. His eyes darken even more when your mouth opens, strawberry lips wrapping around him with no hesitation.

Yeah, you’re going to kill him. 

“Fuck, look at you,” He pushes down on your tongue, watching the way your thighs press under your dress sucking on the digit with the same force. “I’m so lucky.”

You moan around him, the motions of your wrist getting faster, and the urge to taste him becomes unbearable. With a gentle scrap of your teeth you let go of his thumb, pushing up on your knees to beg for a kiss. The wheels of his chair clink against the hinges when he eagerly accepts your request, one of his hands finding the back of your neck pulling you closer to lick into your mouth without a second thought. 

Your teeth scrape together, tongues battling for dominance while the stubble that lines his jaw threatens to rub your skin raw, but you don’t care. The inside of your thighs start to get sticky and the large vein that runs up the side of his cock pulses against your palm with the need for your attention. It’s the only thing that can get you to pull away from his lips that won’t stop devouring yours.  

It’s with new determination that you take him back into the heat of his mouth, doing your best to take him deeper down your throat than before. He moans your name loud enough that you’re sure anyone in this part of the building would hear if they were actually in their offices. He lets a big hand find the back of your head this time, while both of yours find the tops of his thighs. 

Your cheeks hollow again while your tongue wraps around as much as you can get, more spit, more slick to bob in rhythm with the thrusts of his hips. The tip of him catches at the back of your throat, and the way it squeezes his head when your reflex hits makes his toes curl, fingers burying themselves in your hair to keep you there.

“Oh, that’s - that’s it- take the whole thing. Shit. You’re gonna make me cum baby. Just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop. Good girl, good girl.” 

Each snap of his hips gets as desperate as his babbling, like he’s completely forgotten he’s still at work. One of your hands leaves his thigh to cup his balls that have been screaming for attention since the moment you walked into his office in that dress. Rolling them in your palm is the final touch that makes his vision go white behind his eyes, body tensing and face going slack just like his jaw. 

“Baby, baby, baby.”

Twitching, he spills hot down the back of your throat and you try to swallow as much of it as you can before it dribbles down your chin, dripping onto your chest. His full weight falls back onto his chair, the wheels it’s on moving just enough to have him slide half soft from the warm velvet of your mouth. He tasted even better than you’d imagined, promising yourself you were going to do this again to him after dinner. 

Chest heaving, a breathy laugh escapes him, and the hand that was buried in your hair runs through his before his eyes open up back to their normal golden brown. His cheeks flush pink when he gets a look at the mess he made of you, and it only deepens when you collect the spend that found its way to the swell of your breasts with the pads of your fingers before sucking them clean.

“I think I’m gonna take a half day.”

[sludge-saturday]

catching feelings ☆ pencil and charcoal

you've been riding with the van der linde gang for a few months now, pulling your weight and helping out when you can. you've earned the trust of nearly everyone there with your hard work and are starting to capture the interest of a certain someone...

pairing: arthur morgan x gn!artist!reader

summary: you show arthur your artwork by the fire. how will he react when he sees himself amongst your drawings?

tags: fluff, arthur has low self-esteem, high honor arthur

warnings: very brief mention of alcohol consumption

word count: 1,141

a/n: first entry in the "catching feelings" series! i can't tell if my writing style is too corny or not so feedback is encouraged. :)

☆ the trotting of your horses' hooves served as gentle ambience as you and arthur watched the van der linde camp come into view. an involuntary feeling of relief washed over you, knowing that you were safe here. the two of you were just arriving from a particularly difficult bounty hunt, but your combined skills proved to be efficient. "a job well done," as arthur had told you.

☆ you both approach the camp and hop off of your horses, hitching them to an available post. arthur gives boadicea a gentle, appreciative pat on the neck. "i'm gonna go tell dutch how much we made." he says, walking toward where the gang leader is standing. dutch is next to one of the posts holding up his tent and a fire had been made not too far away by some of the other gang members. karen, tilly, charles, javier, and lenny all sat around the flame, a couple with bottles in their hands.

☆ you wanted to stop at your tent for your sketchbook before heading over to sit with them. now would be a perfect time to keep practicing, you thought to yourself. after making the short trip to where your belongings were, you swiped the leather-bound book and the rest of your supplies off of your cot. as you walk towards the fire you glance at everyone sitting around it. no one had left yet, but another person had joined: arthur.

☆ scanning for a place to sit, you decide on an open spot next to the gunslinger. you had to admit, you've grown fond of arthur's presence since you first started traveling with the gang. it was something about his get-it-done attitude, his undying loyalty to those he cares about, and, of course, his rugged handsomeness. you kept your affection for him a secret, though, afraid of what might happen if anyone ever found out. you drew one of your knees up to your chest, propping your sketchbook up on your thigh in an attempt to dispel the thought.

☆ arthur's gaze couldn't help but wander to what you were doing beside him. as you opened your sketchbook, flipping through the pages to find where you last left off, arthur's eyes were able to steal a few glances at what was inside. from what he able to see, there were sketched pictures of people he could have sworn he recognized. was that... dutch? and sean? and mary beth? arthur gestured to the book in your hands and spoke in a hushed tone, as if afraid someone else would hear what he had to say. "you draw too?"

☆ you looked up at arthur with a smile already on your face. "it's been one of my passions since i was a child. i practically clung to my pencils when i fell on hard times." your eyes sparkled as you spoke to him, and you could have sworn you saw the same kind of shimmer in his eyes as he listened. "can i..." he started, "can i see 'em?" arthur had never met anyone else that shared his love of drawing and thought he never would, he had made peace with that. but this new discovery, this moment he was now sharing with you, it made him feel more alive and more connected to someone than he felt in a while.

☆ a flush threatened to creep onto your cheeks as you process arthur's request. you can't remember the last time someone asked to actually see what you were making. anxiety bubbled in your stomach as your mind raced through everything that could happen if you agreed. but, when you looked at arthur, his features were graced with a subtle glow, an expression of wonder and pure curiosity. how could you refuse?

☆ "of course." you gave him a sweet smile. "should i start from the beginning?" your hand prepares to move all of the pages on the left back to the right, but you look at arthur for approval anyway. "sure." he answered, nodding his head.

☆ and so you do. you show him everything, from your finished portraits of the gang members to sketches of your horse to quick scribbles of plants and animals you spot on your adventures. and arthur found it all so breathtaking. your art style, the way you chose to characterize your figures, your ability to make photo-realistic images from just pencil and charcoal, he never knew you had this in you.

☆ he watched as you flipped through the pages, admiring your work and pointing out ones he particularly liked. the person drawn on the last page had a dark cowboy hat on with rope tied around the base. he had a dark kerchief draped around his neck and a stubbly face. "recognize him?" you smooth your hand over the paper, remembering the unforgettable process that was drawing arthur for the first time. "this is one of my favorites." smiling at the page, you turn to look at his reaction.

☆ arthur was utterly dumbfounded. he couldn't believe what he was looking at. someone, especially someone like you, had deemed him worthy enough of being a muse for artwork. he thought he was so... ugly. he thought everyone found him that way. at a loss for words, the man felt tears prick his eyes. he didn't know why he was getting so emotional! he couldn't cry in front of anyone, so he cleared his throat and searched for what to say. "is that me?"

☆ you noticed that arthur's eyes looked glossier and that his expression shifted. you couldn't gauge how he was feeling from the look on his face, so you looked back down at the drawing. "it is," you said, fiddling with the corner of the book. "you are a joy to create." your smile was genuine, the apple of your cheeks shining in the firelight as you turned your head to face arthur again. his expression was still unreadable, his gaze tilted down towards his lap. after a few seconds of silence, arthur speaks softly. "ya really mean that?"

☆ arthur's eyes were still glassy, but softer this time around. he looked like the answer to his question would make or break him. he looked... vulnerable. even you knew that this was not a disposition you would typically, if ever, expect of him. you were careful with your response, knowing that you held the very livelihood of arthur morgan in your hands. "i do."

☆ those two simple words sent a small swarm of butterflies through his gut. for him, nothing would be able to compare to the way you just made him feel. for him, this moment would be occupying his mind for longer than he cared to admit. for him, this gesture was just another piece of the stunning mosaic created in your image. after this, there's no more room for doubt. he's smitten.

[goldengleams]

another cinderella story | l. hughes

summary: after your masquerade dance, you invite luke back to your house to watch a movie that’s right on theme. will he be your prince charming?

word count: 1.8k

author’s note: oh it’s just me being active and posting again!! so excited to be on break for the summer and finally have some free time! this was inspired by an experience i had with a friend and it was so fun to write, so please show some love by reblogginh or liking! leave some requests or messages in my inbox for fun! 🤍

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You pulled your coat around your shoulders as the chilly winter air nipped at your exposed skin, making the climb out of the Uber and the walk to your house that much more dreadful. Your night at your sorority formal had been a blast. This year, there was a masquerade theme and you had gotten lucky enough that your formal was on a non-hockey weekend so that you could invite your close friend, Luke Hughes.

The two of you had had a fun night with your sorority sisters and a few of his teammates who had been invited. Before you left, the drinks had been flowing at your pregame, so you had felt extra loose on the dance floor with Luke as your date.

“Thank you, have a good night,” you said to the driver. Luke quickly climbed out of the car to join you and speedwalk inside.

“I think the cold just completely sobered me up,” you grumbled.

Luke laughed from behind you. “Yeah, you did go a little hard after we finished our bottle of champagne.” You let out a soft groan at the reminder that you and Luke had been handcuffed to each other earlier in the night to complete your champagne and shackles challenge.

“I only had a one dirty shirley but I knew that stupid bottle of champagne would fuck me up,” you said, laughing as you recalled your tipsy self earlier in the night.

“I thought you handled it well, you only tripped three times walking in,” Luke teased. It wasn’t your fault that your best friend had made everyone drink the champagne in a race.

“Well, you knew I wasn’t going to lose to Luca and Bella in the drinking game!”

You and Luke reached the front door of your sorority house and you scanned in. Unsurprisingly, the house was empty, the other girls still at the formal venue or planning to stay with their dates for the night.

You shrugged off your coat and Luke hung it up on the coat rack in the closet along with his own. He had been over to your sorority house many times to study and hang out with you, so he knew where just about everything was.

“I was gonna bring some popcorn and those chocolate covered pretzels upstairs,” You called from the kitchen. Luke came in a moment later, still looking handsome in his button down and dress pants. You wouldn’t admit to it, but your eyes did linger on the contour of his muscles that was evident through his shirt. “I still can’t believe you’ve never seen Another Cinderella Story!”

“Jack and Quinn weren’t exactly interested in Disney Channel at that age, so blame them next time you see them,” Luke laughed. “How does this relate again?”

You huffed out a breath. “It’s a cultural masterpiece because Selena Gomez’s character goes to a masquerade ball where she dances with the Joey Parker, who is the celebrity in the movie,” you explained while walking up the stairs. Luke followed behind you, intently listening to your words. It was hard to ignore his eyes as he focused on you. “And since we just went to the masquerade dance, it’s a must!”

“So she’s the one playing Cinderella?”

“Yeah and she’s a really good dancer but her evil stepmother, who is played by Jane Lynch, of course, won’t let her be with him. It’s cinematic, I swear Luke.”

Luke’s eyes followed your form as you walked up the stairs. Your dress clung to you in all the right spots and your heels you had worn had made your legs look even longer than usual. He tried not to watch as your hair flowed behind you, the new style making him want to stare at you all night.

“Alright, I’ll get this masterpiece of a film set up, so get the snacks ready!”

Luke took a seat on your futon and you quickly clicked on Disney Plus to turn on the movie. You had started to feel too overdressed in your outfit, so you grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a Michigan hockey t-shirt to change into.

“Nice shirt,” Luke said when you walked back into your room. His eyes had gone straight to your shirt and seeing your choice of attire made him smile.

“Don’t be flattered, it was the first one in my drawer,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. You quickly grabbed a hair tie to put your hair up in a bun in front of your mirror. You didn’t expect Luke to be watching you as you turned back to join him where he was sitting.

“You look nice,” he said softly. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“In my pajamas?”

“You always look pretty, Y/N.”

You wanted to question what he meant but he turned away and focused back on the television. Recently, you had started feeling like yours and Luke’s relationship was bordering on the “more than just friends” line. He had made it a point to see you as much as he could, which ended up being just about every day. Your friends in your house had started teasing you more and more about how oblivious you were to Luke’s flirting.

You settled in next to Luke and shivered a little, pulling the blanket he grabbed closer to you.

“Come here,” Luke said, opening his arms for you to slide closer to him. The snacks still separated you from the hockey player. You told yourself it was just for warmth, that your sorority house had been known to be drafty in the wintertime.

“You cold?” You teased.

“No, but I know you always are. Your hands are always freezing and you wear, like three layers of clothing everyday, Y/N,” Luke joked. You couldn’t believe Luke paid attention to you like that.

Was it normal to have butterflies for your best friend during a Disney Channel Original Movie?

About an hour into the movie, lots of yelling at Jane Lynch, and one dance break later, you felt your eyelids start to droop. You sat up a little straighter, trying to stay awake to finish the movie with Luke but your night was catching up to you. You could feel him looking at you as you tried to stifle a yawn.

“We can save the rest of the movie for another day if you want,” Luke offered as he paused the movie.

You quickly shook your head. “I can’t leave you in suspense about what happens to Mary Santiago and Joey Parker, Luke. That would be a crime to DCOMs and to you.”

Luke pressed play once again, enjoying how excited you were about the movie and not wanting to miss spending any time with you. “You can rest your head on my shoulder if you want to, Y/N.”

You gave in, resting your head on Luke’s shoulder and cuddling up next to him. You weren’t sure what territory this put you into, since this seemed to be more intimate than anything you’d ever done before. You smelled Luke’s cologne as you moved closer, feeling his arm wrap around you as he welcomed your presence closer to him.

You knew you were a goner right then and there, because three minutes later, you were pressed against his shoulder letting out soft, steady breaths with your arm wrapped around Luke’s stomach. Luke didn’t notice you were asleep until a few minutes later, assuming you had just been watching the movie. He smiled at the sight of you curled up next to him and took in your facial features. After being friends for over a year, he had discovered so many things about you that made him want to be around you even more.

Luke let the movie run on, only half paying attention to what was happening. He had been excited when you asked him to be your date for the night, knowing that there were other guys, including a few of his teammates, who found you very attractive. He would have gone anywhere you had asked him, quite honestly, but the dance was fun and your post-dance plans of showing him one of your comfort movies only made his heart swell more. Even though dancing wasn’t his thing, he knew it was yours, and it made him excited just to see you happy.

Once the film was ending, he reached for the other blanket that was resting on the arm of the couch, not realizing that the remote was right there. The small black box clattered to the ground hit the side of the couch just right so that the sound went up, jerking you awake.

You were so surprised by the sound that you almost didn’t realize you had been asleep on Luke’s shoulder.

“Shit, I’m sorry!”

Luke quickly bent over to get the remote off the ground which gave you a minute to take in the song playing.

“Oh my god, did I fall asleep?” As a true DCOM fan, you knew that Selena Gomez’s song played at the end as the credits were rolling.

“Uh yeah, but not for long. You only missed her and Joey at the end,” Luke said. He placed the remote in between the two of you, since you had moved away from him in your haste to wake up.

“Gosh, I’m sorry Luke. I didn’t mean to,” you said, feeling embarrassed. You had spent the night trying to impress Luke and now you had probably drooled on his nice shirt.

“No, no don’t be. I was trying to cover you up with another blanket and I dropped it by accident.”

You both sat in an awkward silence before Luke cleared his throat.

“You’re cute when you sleep.” You rolled your eyes at his comment.

“I should’ve known my date was a stalker,” you teased.

“Thank you for inviting me, by the way. I had a really great time,” Luke said sincerely. You felt a flush on your cheeks.

“Even though I got a little too tipsy and fell asleep on you?” You questioned semi-seriously.

“Especially because you got tipsy and fell asleep on me,” Luke chuckled. “I’m glad you feel comfortable with me, Y/N.”

“Of course I feel comfortable with you, Luke. We’re friends.”

Luke quickly looked at you with a smirk on his face before huffing out a laugh and shaking his head. He wanted to say something, you knew all of his tells.

“What’s so funny?” You questioned.

“Nothing, I just wish we wouldn’t keep doing this song and dance. We’re worse than Mary and Joey, Y/N.”

Luke took your hand into his. “What do you mean Luke?”

Luke brought his hand to your cheek, the space between the two of you on the couch eliminated as he moved closer. His eyes dipped to your lips, silently asking you a question that you both already knew the answer to.

You nodded, leaning into his touch and pressing your lips against his. Cliche as it sounds, you felt like one of the girls in a Disney movie, kissing your Prince Charming.

Luke pulled away first to smile at you. “Took us long enough, huh? C’mere my Cinderella.”

You giggled and kissed him again, already planning your first anniversary and rewatching of Another Cinderella Story in your head.

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