#but that definitely might just be in my head lol
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Summary: If you love me right, then who knows, I might let you make me Juno...Harry’s is the hot owner of a coffee shop you frequent. What are the odds he’s been dying to get your number??? A/N: Shout out to @howling-wolf97 for the request!! From my new Sabrina Series: Harry One Shots inspired by lyrics from our favorite little icon, Sabrina Carpenter.
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Word Count: 10.2k
Warning: 18+ fluff/smut
Marie: Dude, is that for real?
Y/N: Yes! Like we were talking, and for some reason, I felt bold and was like, prove it.
Marie: Wow! Very bold for my prude whittle bb.
Y/N: Omg, dude, I’m not a prude. I’m just shy, and honestly, I’m so proud of myself. He makes me so freaking nervous. He’s so fuuuuuucking hot.
Marie: God bless his dad’s genetics! 🍆🍆🍆
Y/N: I know!! The whole package!
Marie: He’s practically offering it up on a silver platter, bitch. You better hop on that…like for real! That’s the kind of dick for freaky shit…lol.
Y/N: You’re annoying. Yeah, he seems very sure of himself, like it’s almost intimidating. I feel like there’s no guessing. He hasn’t really pushed the sex thing. That part was just random. That was the first time we talked about it. Do you think I’m objectifying him by sending you that? Fuck, I just got excited.
Marie: Definitely, but only if you tell him you did it, and it sounds like he wants you! Omg! now you have someone to try those pink fuzzy handcuffs with…the ones I bought you for Christmas.
Y/N: Maybe…who knows?
Marie: Maybe he was warning you, preparing you for what’s to cuuuummm! And that’s you, girl!
Y/N: Jesus.
Marie: Just saying…
Y/N: I have to go! I’m about to grab some coffee. I hope his hot ass is working!!
Marie: Maybe he’ll make you come a latte…
Y/N: I hate you! bye!
Marie: You love me, and I’m happy you finally have someone decent on your radar! I’m sure he adores you, and you’re just overthinking it. Just talk to him. Text me if you see him. I want to know everything!
You saw him the second you walked into the coffee shop—It only took you ten minutes to hype yourself up enough to walk inside, but here you were.
In the midst of your prep talk, after you sorted through all the possible scenarios, you decided the best thing you could do was place a mobile order, that way if he wasn’t there, you could be in and out, but as soon as your eyes landed on the mobile counter Harry, your boy wonder barista, was chatting up some cute blonde, her friend standing close by.
You could relate to the friend, staring doe-eyed, a stargazed smile playing at her mouth, and as you watched, you imagined that if her long hair was freed from her high ponytail, she would be twirling the long strands around her finger, tossing it over her shoulder every time her friend laughed, or Harry’s eyes moved to hers. She had that desperate third-wheel energy, and although you knew the feeling, the second-hand embarrassment gutted you from across the room, your insides crawling up as you witnessed the blonde let out a screechingly high laugh, one that felt way too forced, almost halting you in place as you made your way over to the counter, and you tried not to make a face.
This wasn’t the first time you had noticed pretty stragglers, the girls that lingered a little too long, and being the owner of this shop, he had an effortless way of collecting them, you chalking it up to good customer service because he was always going to need the business. You knew you could never be mad about this part because it was part of his livelihood.
Especially when, as soon as you were in Harry’s line of sight, his eyes found yours, a broad smile spreading across that gorgeous face, and dammit, if you weren’t dying to follow through with whatever he may have been implying the other night.
Because shit, when he sent you that pic, his rock-hard cock standing tall, and those fucking tattoos marking his v-cut. He had your head spinning. You weren’t even a dick pic, girl, and there you were drooling over the thought of that dick inside you, and honestly, you weren’t even sure why you asked for a picture in the first place—a dick is just a dick in your book, but there was something about just knowing, that horny thought tickling the back of your mind any time you saw him standing behind that coffee bar.
The strange part was that you hadn’t even talked to him since. That was four days ago, and for some reason, you were too scared to speak to him. I guess there were other reasons: you had been busy with work, starting that new internship—more like a glorified assistant position—the first two days were long and grueling, and it gave you a few extra days to sit on the thought, but then you realized texting back would make it real, right? What kind of response was he expecting?
It was late when he sent the picture, so it was understandable if you had fallen asleep, but you also weren’t sure if you not responding, pivoted the vibe, and now there was only one way to find out.
Yes, you were, without a doubt, interested, but you had been out of the dating game for a while; you couldn’t even remember the last time you had sex. It would be nice; he could definitely break you in, clear the cobwebs, pick you up, and dust you off because a toy can only do so much, and lately, you’ve only been taking it out on special occasions…whatever that means.
And let’s be real; you’ve been doing anything to justify your barren behavior. Who even needs a special occasion to get off? What were you turning into? You were getting way too comfortable in your independent ways, and while that’s great for most, it was okay to loosen the reigns every once in a while and get your metaphorical “dick sucked” because you deserved it; you deserved this, and as you reach the counter, Harry is pulling your drink toward him, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, while the blonde talks at him.
“Unfortunately, I have very little free time these days, but I can definitely ask the crew if they’re interested in any…was it pilate classes?” He asks the blonde as her flirty smile falters ever so slightly, almost giving herself away, and your eyes move back to your drink, now clasped in his hand on the counter.
“Here, why don’t I get your number…I can, like, send you the info or something…” and you have to admit, it was smooth, the perfect segway to land the cute coffee shop owner’s number.
Then your eyes flick to Harry, who’s patting his pockets, searching for his phone, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head, “You know what? I don’t have my phone…”
And just when you think he’s distracted, you reach forward across the counter, ready to swipe your drink and run, but he’s quick, strangely aware of your presence, and he snatches up the drink, a smile on his face as he says, “Maybe Jen at the register has a pen and paper you can write it down…” Then his eyes sweep to yours, sending you a wink—a fucking wink, and you have to stop your jaw from dropping because as soon as the blonde picks up on the interaction, she scoffs under her breath and looks over at her friend.
“Hi…” He says, giving you his full attention, and from the corner of your eyes, you can see the blonde standing there dumbfounded, maybe rarely getting rejected because you can definitely tell that’s a pilates body, the perfect canvas for her matching Lululemon set, and when her friend tugs on her arm, you bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile.
“I’m here to pick up a mobile order…” you tell him, fainting innocence because, after all, you were the one that never texted him back.
Harry looks down at the drink in his hand, “Hmmm…did you order a grande London Fog with oat milk, no vanilla, sub brown sugar…” and Jesus, the way he says sugar makes you want to lick your lips, the word glazing over his tongue; that British drawl never getting old.
“Embarrassingly enough, yes…but it sounds ridiculous when it’s said out loud like that, shhhhh….” you say, reaching for your drink, but he only pulls it further out of reach. He’s in a playful mood this morning, and you can tell he’s not holding a grudge for your sudden onset of silence because it was kind of sudden.
After you ran into each other at that John Mayer concert, the one your sister forced you to go to—You only remembered a few of his songs from childhood, the ones your sister played to death, so you spent that night drinking, pregaming before the show, you know, being a supportive sister until her boyfriend decided to come at the last minute, making you the tag along.
As soon as the music started playing, it wasn’t that bad. The whole set was acoustic, his smooth voice echoing off the stone mountains, the weather perfect as the stars twinkled above, and really, it was the perfect concert to sit cozied up to your boyfriend so you couldn’t be too mad at your sister because it was nice seeing her this happy. So, when you snuck away to use the bathroom, you weren’t expecting to run into your favorite hot barista, and what are the odds that he would be alone?
He was standing in line for a drink, and you were just tipsy enough to follow through with a, “Oh hey…Harry, right?” like an idiot because you definitely didn’t know him like that, and surely it was weird on your part, approaching him like you had ever formally introduced yourself.
Every transaction you guys have ever had was him being friendly because it was his job, right? Like for example, you knew his name only because he wore a name tag, not because you’ve ever taken the time to ask him, and maybe he’s asked you a few questions here and there, but you had seen him do that plenty of time, whether you were waiting in line or sitting in the cafe before you finished school, you know, a friendly shop owner trying to get business and that’s what you thought, but then he called you by name, and this was new because you couldn’t remember if you had actually heard him say it directly to you—you would have remembered the way it fell from his perfect lips as you watched his dimples dip into his cheeks.
And once you got over the initial shock of him knowing your name, him clearing the air, trying to play it down, telling you he sees a lot of regulars out and about, you said, “I guess I thought I flew under the radar…” which was silly, because what the fuck did you mean by that and what did you know about planes, then he laughed and told you:
“I’ve definitely noticed you on many occasions…” As a clever smile turned up the corners of his mouth, you felt it: the heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks warming as his eyes swept over your face, stealing your focus, and it was sudden, his effect as the noise began to fade—a head rush—then the world started slowing down around you, your heart echoing in your ears. When he smiled, he licked his lips, and you watched as that smile spread into a knowing grin, and just like that, you were hooked, like magnets, for the rest of the night.
Then, somehow, it was all smooth sailing, and that’s the part that gets you later when you look back on that night. It was like a miracle from the fucking universe because what were the chances—and when he offered to buy you a drink, and you found out he was there by himself, you felt brave enough to ask if he wanted to join you because fuck being the third wheel when you had a chance to chat up the hot-ass coffee shop owner.
You couldn’t believe your luck. How many times did Harry lean over and whisper in your ear? His deep voice like velvet brushing down your spine, and each time, Harry inched closer and closer until you were shoulder to shoulder. With every movement he made, you felt him—hyper-aware of everything, all the little detail as John Mayer practically set the mood, him ending the concert with ‘Your Body Is A Wonderland,’ and thank the fucking stars up above because, dammit, if that song hasn’t become Harry’s theme song in your head because nothing else will do because now you would have that moment forever, floating across your memory.
When Harry politely placed his hand on your knee, whispering, “We should exchange numbers….” as John said his thanks, wishing everyone a good night, you sat there wishing you could end this night with Harry’s lips on yours.
Maybe in another universe, Harry would have kissed you goodnight, but you were with your sister, and you had already made plans with her. So when sister tried to play matchmaker and invite him to join you guys after, he graciously declined, telling you guys he had to open in the morning, and that’s when you realized you were actually okay with his not joining. You needed time to digest this evening, mull it over until it was real, and as you floated still on a high from the evening to the car, there you were, sending him a text just before your phone died.
That night, as you crawled into bed hours later, still riding that same high. Harry’s face was fresh on your mind, familiar but in a new light.
All you could think about were those fleeting moments when you guys traded phones—Both of you entering each other’s numbers as you stole a quick glance at Harry’s shakey fingers, typing away at your keyboard—There was something so vulnerable about the idea of your phone being in his hand, of you holding his, an act of trust right off the bat, you thought as you plugged in your phone— a hazy daydream of Harry’s fingers playing out, picturing his yellow nails, each one marked with a happy face, and it’s exactly how you felt, how he made you feel.
Because how did it happen? And when your phone came back to life, there was his name, Harry Styles, a message setting the tone for all the weeks to follow:
H: Hi, Sorry! I’m passing out soon. The dreadful opening shift is killing me this week. I’m really glad we ran into each other. Kind of crazy, but I’ve been trying to think of ways to get your number for a while. I hope that’s not weird or anything. Thanks for letting me crash your evening with your family. You were definitely a pleasant surprise. See you around.
Fast forward several weeks, and here he was, standing before you, once a stranger but still one of the sexiest guys you had ever seen because let’s not pretend like you haven’t been eyeing him ever since you started coming to this coffee shop. Now, there were numerous possibilities—the looming thought of him being inside you, hanging over your heads, added static building between you, and yes, his flirting right now is solidifying the deal for you because he wants you. You can see it in his eyes, the electricity coursing through your veins when they flit to your mouth, and then he says:
“I was getting worried…I haven’t heard from you,” and he smirks nonchalantly reading the label of your drink as your eyes sweep over his face.
His playfulness simmers into that casual, relaxed demeanor you’ve grown so fond of, and you can’t help but smile, your body warming at the thought of that last message, the image flashing across your vision, but there’s something different about the interaction, the thought of him more intimate because now you had the pleasure of piece together more details, more things about himself that he’s revealed, and let you kept, collecting bits of Harry that only make you like him more.
“I’m sorry, I started that internship…it was crazy the first few days…” you tell him.
“Oh yeah, I was wondering how that was going…” and this makes you smile. His attentiveness, his genuine curiosity about your life because he really did seem interested this whole time, from the very beginning. “I was hoping I didn’t scare you off—”
“Mmmm…” you nod, getting lost in a trance, his words like a switch, igniting that little flame within. He has a way of sucking you in, making you feel like you’re the only person in the room, the way he holds your gaze, never flinching, never shying away.
“Yeah?” He nudges, a curious look pulling between his brows.
You clamor a nervous laugh, the sound making you stumble over your words, “Yeah—I mean—no—no…not scared…I mean, no, you didn’t scare me off…”
“Not scared…” he laughs
And you squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head, as a smile spreads across your face, “Yeah…whatever that means…” you laugh, this time taking control of your reaction because shit, you are giving yourself away, and it’s no wonder you didn’t text him back because you can’t even keep it together enough to form the right words, let alone a sentence for that matter.
“Mmmmm….” he hums, that sly grin back in full swing, and you don’t even want that hot drink anymore because it’s fucking roasting in here, and you hope with all your might that he’s not picking up on your embarrassment, but then he says:
“Did you want a water?”
“A water?” you ask confused.
“Yeah, you usually get a water…you seem thirsty this morning—”
“Thirsty?” you question, caught up in that smile.
“Yeah, do you want extra ice, maybe cool you down a little bit?”
This is when you finally catch on to his joke, “I think I have to go and never come back, “ you say, turning away slightly.
“No—no—no—no—no—no” He laughs, reaching over the counter to grab your arm, and you feel the blush creeping further, setting your whole body on fire. “I’m just joking… you’re cute when you blush….”
“Oh really? Because now I think I want to die,” you force, hitching your thumb toward the door as he releases your arm.
Harry shakes his head, that smile even more persistent, “I’m only teasing…here…” he says, pushing your drink forward, “I promise I won’t poke anymore fun…” and just as the words fall from his mouth, a random girl walks up, grabbing her drink, her eyes trained on Harry, smiling over to get his attention, but his eyes never leave your face. All you want to do is climb onto this counter and let him take you right then and there—let him claim you, make you his, pray that you’re his one and only because every time you see him, that want, that need to have him. Buries itself deeper inside you—each new day, every new detail only makes you like him more.
“Would you want to come over tonight?” Harry asks, catching you off guard, the question tripping you up again.
“Oh, my roommate is having people over tonight, so I can’t host…” you tell him, unaware that you heard the question wrong because this would be the first time you guys hung out alone, without the safety of a crowded bar or the public eye of his coffee shop.
“No—” he laughs, thoroughly entertained by you this morning, “Would you like to come to mine? I don’t mind hosting…maybe watch a movie or something…”
Or something…you think, something wild, your thoughts spinning as you nod your head up and down, words suddenly hard.
“So is that a yeah?” he pokes.
“Yeah—yeah—yeah—” you confirm, still nodding, “Yup, that sounds good…that sounds really good…”
And you’re kicking yourself for that last bit, “Really good, huh?” he repeats, really driving it home.
“God, I have to go…” and you fucking giggle like a little schoolgirl, “I think I need caffeine or something…” you tell him backing away.
He chuckles, his eyes dropping to the drink in your hand. “I steamed it extra hot this morning…”
“Thank you! I—” you tell him, your tone rising as you turn away because you almost walked right into that one, and just as you’re about to push through the door, Harry shouts, “I’ll text you…” and then you’re through the door, gasping in a breath, the cold air filling your lung; a soothing relief. There is no way you can look back, and as you slide into the driver seat, your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and you lift your ass in your seat and peer down at the screen, swiping it open:
H: I’m looking forward to tonight. I’ll start thinking of movie options. Let me know what you think you might be hungry for, and I’ll order food.”
If this had been a weekday, you would have called in. You would have risked the internship because this was monumental—You were going to Harry’s place—This was bound to be a turning point, a change in scenery for you both, more personal, shifting the mood from friendly to possibly sexy, and this you had to prepare for.
You waited until you got home to text him back. You didn’t want to come off as too excited; you wanted to play it cool. I guess, yes, you could have texted him back right then and there, but why not leave some mystery? You already knew you wanted Chinese food; that was a no-brainer, but when he texted you and told you his internet was down. He asked if you had any DVDs, and this made you laugh. You had only kept a few random movies over the years stowed away in a box in your closet, a sparse collection curated specifically for you, especially not for a hot dude you were trying to get with.
And when you pulled your old box of belongings from the dusty top shelf, you laughed the second you opened it. There, sitting on top, were three random DVDs—you were beside yourself because now you were questioning your younger self, wondering why the fuck you would keep any of these movies, store them away like prized gold.
Okay, maybe there was something about the movie ‘Twilight’ that was worth keeping. You could understand that, and as you pulled it from the box, your eyes swept over the cover. You thought about the kind of vibe it would set, and it seemed like a movie you’d make your boyfriend watch when you just wanted a movie to cozy up together, something you knew he would never enjoy but would watch for you because he loved you. Maybe it would be okay if you both had seen it, but if Harry hadn’t seen it. This wasn’t the time, so you placed it on the floor next to you, making it an option.
When you pulled ‘The Notebook’ out, the cover Ryan Gosling and Rachel Mcadams about to embrace in a passionate kiss, you literally laughed out loud because there was no way in hell you wanted to watch this movie with him. It was way too soon. What message would you be sending if you chose that one, maybe you were overthinking this all, but hell, this was a big deal, and you wanted it all to go smoothly. You didn’t want to imply too much this early on, but at the same, the more you thought about it, the more you thought that you could actually see this going somewhere, and maybe it wasn’t just the sex you wanted—it was him.
Everything about him screamed—interested.
It didn’t seem like a facade to get you into bed because if that were the case, you think he would have already acted on it; something about the pace of your interactions meant more than a hookup. You found his genuine curiosity in you endearing, the biggest turn on in a very long time, and if sex came cool—He was already “fucking” your brain with his authenticity because if you really broke it down. None of the boys that have popped up in the last couple of months were ever worth your time. You had been waiting around for a man—a real man, to swoop in, a man that was sure of himself, that had his shit together, that was interested in more than just a casual hook-up because you were over that bullshit, over the feeling of being disposable in somebody else’s roster.
And while you weren’t fully sure of Harry’s intentions, you bet if you asked, he would tell you. He was busy. He had a business to run, for heaven’s sake, and something told you he didn’t have a lot of time to fuck around, like when he told that pilates instructor he was busy, there was definitely some truth in that. You could tell he was organized with his time by the way he made plans—each hang out thoughtfully procured with your time at the forefront, never flaking or making excuses, never changing the plans at the last minute.
In fact, everything about him so far was a major turn on, and as you skimmed through your underwear drawer, trying to piece together a matching set because you could be a grown-up too, you laughed, your eyes flicking over to the third movie laid out across your floor, Juno—that was the one—That would be the perfect movie. You couldn’t even remember the last time you watched it, at least not as an adult. So you did the polite thing and sent him a picture, the movies lined up in a neat row, and as you sent the picture, you internally wished that he would choose Juno like maybe that would be the universe’s way of saying, “Yeah…you’re on the same page…this ones a keeper…”
H: We should talk about your movie collection later…but without a doubt, Juno for me…but I wouldn’t be opposed to The Notebook either…I’ll let you pick.
You laugh, falling back onto your bed, watching those tiny little dots move at the bottom of the screen.
H: Also, I’m going comfy vibes, like sweatpants and t-shirt kind of night, just a heads up.
Then you’re kicking your feet, that inner school girl rising up again, and now you’re fucking obsessing over this guy, over the fact that he just gets it, like somehow he’s becoming the complete package, like all those late-nights thinking about him was finally starting to pay off.
H: Ordering the food now, see you soon!
You send him a text, leap off the bed and rush to finish getting dressed; that picture of his dick in the foyer of your mind, and you squeeze your thighs together at the thought, already horny with the idea of just walking through his door, the idea of sitting on the same couch and it’s like you’re a teenager all over again, dying to makeout until your lips are chapped, rub your body against his until the friction has you wet until his hands are roaming your body, needy to explore every inch of you.
This is what you’re thinking as you wait for him to open the door, your heart thudding away in your chest. When you hear the click of the knob and the door creaks open, your stomach twists with butterflies, the flutter seizing your whole body as he reaches out to embrace you in a hug, but your hands are full, and you can only lean into his side, a half-ass hug as he starts collecting each item, kicking the door closed behind you.
“Glad you found it okay,” Harry tosses over his shoulder as you follow him into the living room.
Harry sets your stuff down on the coffee table just as the doorbell chimes, “Ah, that must be the food, be right back, just make yourself at home…” He smiles, his eyes searching your face, and you hope you’re not coming off too nervous because, let’s face it, this is intimidating as fuck. You figured he had his shit together, but his place was amazing, eclectic yet put together like he actually paid full price for his couch, probably brand new, a large fluffy L-shape—you couldn’t help but flop down onto the cushion, exhaling all your self-doubt because what’s the worst that could happen, you think as your eyes flit shut, sinking into the feeling of comfort.
“I’m going to grab some dishes,” he says, stirring you from your thoughts, and you open your eyes as he releases the sack of food, the boxes making a dull thud as they hit the table.
You push yourself up with a smile, him catching you in the middle of testing out his sofa, “Comfy couch,” you tell him, clearing your throat.
He laughs, “It really is. If I fall asleep during the movie, you’ll have to wake me.”
“I was literally just thinking the same thing. I drank coffee before I came, so—”
He runs a hand through his hair, “I honestly did the same…I didn’t want to leave a bad impression. I’m notorious for falling asleep early.”
You laugh then, “Well, if I had to get up at the ass crack of dawn to open a coffee shop, I would never have a social life.”
“My social life is barely functioning…trust me….” He tells you, “I’ll be back in just a second. Are you good with chopsticks, or would you like a fork?”
“Chopsticks are great, thank you.” You grin, your cheeks squishing into a wide smile.
“What?” he asks, matching your smile.
“Nothing…nothing…I’ll set up the movie,” you offer, needing to look away, needing to look anywhere else because he is so fucking cute, and those sweatpants are so hot on him, hugging the bulge you know is there, and if you stare too long you might start undressing him.
“That would be perfect, thank you.” and his manners make you smile even more as you stand to your feet, slipping your shoes off to get cozy.
The movie is set, and when he sees the opening menu of Juno, he laughs as the old wood floors creak under his soft footfalls. His presence fills the room in a matter of seconds, drawing you back to the moment, making you all too aware that this is real when he sits closer than you expected, his elbow softly grazing yours, and you can’t seem to find any words, you heart racing, maybe second-guessing if you’re actually ready for this, and really this is just you guys watching a movie. You know it doesn’t have to be anything else, but then there’s the desperate side of you, the side that wants to explore every option because there is something about him that feels safe and open to every prospect.
Getting past the eating part was fine, and as you guys cozied up with your plates and the movie began, it wasn’t even strange that the opening scene was a mild sex scene because you were both adults and honestly, it was barely a sex scene, mostly implied, kind of like this night with Harry.
It was when the eating was done, all the niceties out of the way. There was still an hour of the movie left, the room dark now, only the soft glow of the television casting light over you both. Harry’s knee was casually pressed against yours as the both of you sat cross-legged on the couch. Every time he moved even the slightest, your eyes would drop to your knee, a low hum buzzing up your thigh, and as soon as you brought any attention to the touch in your mind, that feeling of want pulled between your legs, making you suck in a slow, silent breath through your nose, you reminding yourself to breath, trying not to draw any attention to yourself.
Eventually, you relaxed enough to sink into the movie— overly focused on the screen—even when Harry stretched his legs out and slid further down on the couch cushion, his arm stretching across the pillow behind your head. You didn’t even move. You just sat there so quietly and so still, nearly holding your breath, and maybe he must have picked up on this because then he was pausing the movie, suggesting a bathroom break.
And the second he walked out of the room, you felt your whole body decompress, and you filled your lungs with as much oxygen as you could, gulping in air like the second he walked back in the room, he would steal the very air you were breathing. Why were you still nervous? He hadn’t tried anything, he wasn’t being weird or hinting at anything, no hidden expectations floating to the surface because you guys really were just hanging out, but that still didn’t make it feel any easier. Before he left the room, you could feel the tension straining in your shoulders as you sat there, your muscles burning from your rigid posture—you needed to chill; you were the one that needed to get your shit together.
When you heard his footsteps, you shot up from the couch like a fucking weirdo, almost losing your footing, but you caught yourself before you could fall, a nervous laugh slipping past your lips, and by the way, your face was already starting to burn, you were glad it was too dark to see the flush rising to your cheeks.
“All good?” He asks, a slow smile spreading as his brows knit together.
You nod, forcing an odd laugh, “Is the bathroom that way?” you point in the direction he just came from, and you barely catch his nod as you take the long way around the couch, avoiding any chance of touching or his body brushing yours because it’s obvious you’re being a fucking chicken, because there’s no way a grown man was inviting you over just watch a movie.
As you shut the door behind you, you exhale, realizing you were holding your breath that entire walk to the bathroom, and then you can’t fill your lungs quick enough as the anxious thoughts rise within, suffocating you, your anxiety trying to get the best of you. You can do this. Everything is okay, you are capable of communicating, you could march in there and just talk, you could ask what the deal is, what it is that he’s looking for because if it’s just to fuck, that is doable that part feels like a piece of cake, you would love to get off, but this was more, you can feel it in your bones, there was knowingly something different about him, and it scared the shit out of you.
And while you wash your hands, you try and avoid the mirror, avoiding your eyes, because you know what they would convey, and you already felt cowardly enough. So, of course, when you walk back into the living room again, you take the long way, not daring to look at Harry. Then you take your spot back next to him without a word, feeling his eyes on you, your body tensing up, and as you stare at the screen waiting for him to unpause the movie, he doesn’t. That’s when you chance a glance over at him, his eyes roam over your face, and then he leans past you to turn on the lamp as you hold your breath, the scent of him lingering in your nose as he settles back onto the cushion, this time facing you, and you look over and try and give him a corky smile, but you know it looks strange because the muscles in your cheeks keep twitching.
God, this is embarrassing, you think, and Harry clears his throat, “Umm…is it cool if we clear the air?”
And without a word, you nod, forcing yourself to face him, sitting up straight because you got this, you can do this, get this part over.
“I guess I just wanted to be clear about…I guess my intentions…I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve dated anyone…and I guess I’m feeling a little rusty. If that makes sense?” He explains, making your heart pick up.
“Yeah…same,” you mutter, your throat tight, and you swallow down hard.
“I’m still trying to figure out how to navigate this all…you know, like…I don’t know. I really like you, and I was hoping we could like—”
“What? Have sex—?” You blurt, making him gasp out a laugh, and really, you just wanted to cut right to the chase and figure out what your next move needed to be.
He looks nervous, a funny smile spread across his face as he runs a hand up the back of his head, “I mean—” and he laughs, his nerves visibly getting the best of him, and this makes you smile because you definitely just jumped the gun.
“Is that what you’re wanting?” he asks, looking down at his hands, “I guess I’m trying to figure out what you’re looking for—” He starts
“To be completely transparent, I’m sort of looking for something a little more serious…I mean, sex is great, but—”
You jump in then, “No—yeah, the other…” you clear your throat, “Like something serious…I’m sorry, but you make me so fucking nervous…”
“Am I being too forward?” he asks, his brows furrowed.
And you laugh, “No, I just think I really like you, and it’s just…been a while, you know? It’s also been a while since I’ve dated anyone…or I guess…like had sex…”
“Mmmm…” he hums, and then he laughs, “Not to push the sex narrative, but it has been a while for me, as well….like maybe a year or so. I don’t know. I stopped keeping track. I’ve been really busy with work, and I wasn’t really looking for anything, and then I saw you at the concert…”
Your eyes search his face then, but you know he’s telling you the truth, “So…like, how serious are you thinking? Like someone to exclusively hook up with? Fit into your busy schedule? What are you looking for? I would rather be on the same page.”
“Like dating…like a girlfriend…like maybe this could be something that moves further…”
And for some reason, you narrow your eyes at him, cocking your head to the side, “With me?” you question.
Harry laughs again, “Well…yeah, you silly.”
Then you had to back up the conversation, “So the other night when you sent me that picture, it wasn’t for the sake of a hook-up?”
“I mean, I’m interested in hooking up, but it doesn’t have to be right now…I don’t know, I guess I just wanted you to know I was interested…” Then he laughs, his eyes shying away from you again, “Like I said, I’m rusty. Was that a weird thing to do? It’s been a while since I’ve done that…actually, I’ve only done that one other time…so—”
“I did ask for it…” you clarified, grabbing his attention.
“Yeah…I guess you did.” Then his eyes drop to your mouth.
And now you’re feeling bold, “I’m very interested…” and when your eyes dart away from his, you feel your face growing hot, laughing to yourself as you contemplate the conversation because you didn’t see it coming, but there was a piece of you that was glad it was happening, maybe even a piece of you realizing you may have a communication kink because you’re definitely getting turned on the clearer his intentions get and when he asks:
“What are you thinking?” That’s when you look over and smile, watching his smile spread across those perfect lips of his, and you bite down on your lower lip, deciding which dirty thought to divulge because there might be too many to choose just one.
Then you bite your lip harder, trying to suppress your smile, but it’s no use, and you say, “I mean…we can wait as long as you want to explore the physical side, but I’m down whenever you are…like so down…”
This cracks him up, “So, just like whenever?”
And you match his laughter, falling back against the couch pillows, “I might let you make me Ju—no—” and you can’t even say it with a straight face as you both burst into laughter, all the tension seeming to go with it, and it’s like the room is brighter, the air lighter around you as you suck in a hard breath, almost choking on your own laugh.
“I’m actually on birth control…so the Juno thing might be out the window,” you tell him, placing a hand on his knee. You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t even realize it. Then he’s resting his hand on yours, smiling over at you.
That’s when you feel the pad of his thumb moving back and forth over the top of your hand, and you look down, “Hypothetically speaking…” he says, squeezing your hand, and your heart leaps in your throat as you begin to grip his hand.
“If I were to ask you if you wanted to stay the night one day… would you be down with that?” Then he grips your hand back, and you loosen your hold, laughing because you keep giving yourself away.
“Honestly? You ask.
And he nods, that cute smile stretching, his dimples sinking into his cheeks, “Can we just like get the first hook-up out of the way…because if I wait any longer, I might psych myself out”
“Fuck…” he breathes, “Yes—I feel the same way…like right here? Or in my bed?” he forces, relief washing over his features, a new air of excitement filling the room.
“Oh…did you want to finish the movie?” he adds right before you tell him:
“Fuck no—” laughing as you squeeze his hand again.
“You look like someone who would have a comfortable bed…” you tell him, standing to your feet.
Harry rises with you, still holding your hand. “My rooms upstairs—” he says, his eyes flicking to the stairs through the archway.
“Okay…?” he questions, his eyes scanning your face for any hesitation.
“Yes—” you nod as he begins to pull you toward the stairs.
As soon as you reach the landing at the top of the stairs, he turns around, laughing, “Wait—you said I look like someone who has a comfortable bed?”
“Is that really what you’re thinking about…? You laugh.
He shrugs like he’s stalling, or maybe he’s nervous, “I mean… among other things…”
“Harry, are you nervous?” you ask, squeezing his hand again, and honestly, you’re hoping that he says yes because you’re not sure how this is going to go down, but you’ve been horny for him long before he sent you that photo, so you don’t really care about the details; you just want him inside you as soon as possible.
“Honestly…I don’t think I’ll last long. I just thought I would warn you…”
You smile then, lifting your hand to stroke his cheek, “Then we’re both in the same boat…we’ll just say the first time doesn’t count. Deal?”
“Deal, " he says, letting out a light laugh. You stand there, taking in his face. A boyish grin setting in, about to push you to the edge, and you practically leap to the tips of your toes, pushing your mouth to his.
At first, he’s stunned, but once you begin to move your mouth, he grabs hold of your face, taking a step back. When he takes another, you break the kiss, excitement coursing through you, and you peek over his shoulder, wondering which door leads to his bedroom. When he realizes what you’re doing, he grabs your hand and pulls you toward the end of the hall, pushes through the door, and it smacks against the wall as Harry tugs you through the doorway.
The first thing you do is grab hold of his shirt, his picture flashing across your vision. You have to see those tattoos in person, and when you begin to pull at the hem, he takes your cue and lifts it over his head. Now you’re the one who’s stunned as a whole series of tattoos come into view, halting you in place. Then your eyes are feasting over the plains of his body, the muscles, the random array of tattoos—since when did coffee shop owners look this fucking hot? Like, what did he do before this? But then you’re driving these thoughts away, your hands already moving over his skin—a palm brushing flat over the butterfly at the center of his chest, and it’s almost too much.
You drop to your knees, at eye level, with the leaves inked into his lower abdomen, and you lick your lips, grabbing hold of his waist, a light touch tracing along one side with the tips of your fingers. “Jesus,” you breathe as the leaves disappear into the band of his sweatpants. Before your eyes move any further, you gaze up at Harry. His eyes are trained on you, a lazy smile spreading on his face, and then he laughs.
“If you put those lips around my dick, I swear I’ll only last two seconds. Your touch has already got me so close…” He tells you, bending at the waist to lift your chin, and when he plants his lips to yours, you breathe him in, working yourself back to standing, your mouth never leaving his.
You pull away from the kiss, pressing your hand flat against his chest, needy, pushing him toward the bed, “I could probably get off just by looking at you…” and you both laugh at this, but you’re serious. Everything about him is working you up, and now you’re so turned on that you feel yourself opening for him, your pussy throbbing the entire time you bound up the stairs.
Harry stumbles back onto the bed, sitting at the edge, and brings you between his legs. When he gives your shirt a playful tug, you lift your arms, giving him permission, and he yanks it up, up, up until he’s standing, pulling until you feel the collar of your shirt wisp over the tips of your fingers, then he tosses it to the ground with a smirk on his face—your red lacy bra on full display in the low light of the moon, casting silver light through the window.
When he sits back down on the bed, he draws you toward him again, his hands on your waist, gripping the meat of flesh, a hunger rising up as he buries his face into the hallow between your breast, and when you run your hands through his hair, Harry lets out a soft groan, a puff of heat fanning over your skin, and you bring your face down to the crown of his head, breathing in the smell of his hair.
Harry’s hand moves from your waist to the clasp
of your bra, fidgetting with the hook as he nibbles the tip of your hard nipples through your bra; all you can do is watch, a chill running up your spine, a rush surging through you as soon as your bra comes off, and this is happening, this is real, and when Harry looks up and smiles at you, you need him inside of you—now, desperate for it, desperate for him.
You were ready, that consistent ache between your legs tugging at the pit of your stomach. You wanted him fast and deep; you wanted him to open you up, stretch you so that you would remember, a sore reminder later, a feeling that he was there—leave you reeling, craving more—crave him as you crave him now, like a sweet tooth, one bite never enough.
“Now—” you force, “Now—I need it now,” you tell him, your hands on his shoulder, moving down his chest as you’re pushing him back, and Harry laughs, his body following your command, the muscles in his stomach flexing and relaxing as he lays back on the bed. Then your eyes are drifting down, his grey sweatpants marking the outline of his dick, and it’s joy, pure joy, that giddy feeling tightening your chest, adrenaline shakey at the tips of your fingers as you reach for the elastic waist of his pants.
“I’m so fucking turned on—” he mutters, the words flying out of his mouth, your hands colliding as he helps you ease the pants down, his boxers coming with, catching on his thighs, his dick seconds away from springing free, and harry lifts his leg as you rip off his pants, tossing them across the room with such force, that you can’t help but laugh as Harry’s eyes follow, the pants knocking a picture off the wall, and the frame comes crashing down to the floor with a smash, the sounds of glass shattering fills the room, and Harry doesn’t even flinch because he’s grabbing your face before you can even see the damage.
Harry stands to his feet, one goal in mind, and that was to get you naked, “Still good?” he asks, but you’re too distracted, his rock-hard cock bobbing between the two of you, and when he laughs, it pulses a slight bounce, and it’s like striking gold, your eyes wide, lit with curiosity, every ounce of excitement you felt before hurrying to your needy hands as you reach for his penis, wrapping your hand around his girth, a gasp slipping past your lips as his warmth seeps into the palm of your hand.
The thought was enough before, but the feeling of him in your hand is even better, drawing that hungry to the surface, your mouth watering, and you swallow hard as you rip your eyes away from the dick filling your hand. When you meet Harry’s eyes, you both smile, sharing a knowing look as you nod your head, a late response bubbling up, and then you lick your lips, smoothing them together, contemplating whether or not you’re going to drop back down to your knees, and then you say, “I need you inside me—” gliding your hand down his shaft as Harry sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, the quick sensation of pleasure too much for you both, and he stops your hand mid stoke, his jaw clenching as he squeezes his eyes shut, and when his head falls back, lips parting—You’re losing it.
Without thought, your crawling back onto the bed, pulling at the waistband of your yoga pants, too fucking tight for this situation because it’s taking too long, every movement bringing awareness to your wet pussy, the cold air grazing over your newly exposed skin. Then Harry is helping you tear them past your ass, lifting your hips as his knuckles drag down your legs with the rough effort of ripping them past your ankles.
Never again, you think, never again will you waste time with such a useless fabric as you bring your hand between your thighs, smearing the wetness building within you up your slit, readying yourself. Watching Harry’s mouth gape open when you spread your legs, and god, you are so fucking wet, so fucking horny that you think you’ll explode, and as Harry strokes his dick, his hand moving up and down, you dip your fingers inside, slowly pushing them in, only enough to slick your entrance, then out, and in again, so smooth, open, begging to be filled, to be stretched.
When Harry presses a knee into the edge of the bed, you pull your wet fingers from inside you, making Harry smile. He drops his dick as he climbs onto the bed next to you, him watching as you suck your fingers into your mouth, eliciting a small moan from Harry as he grabs hold of your wrist, your fingers slipping out of your mouth with ease, then Harry is making them his the moment they enter his mouth, his tongue moving over your fingers, then you feel the suction, feel the vibration at the back of his throat when he groans, satisfaction loosening his tight-knit browns.
You can’t take it; that’s when you’re pulling your fingers from his mouth, pushing him back onto the bed, and claiming on top, one swift movement, “Is this okay?” you ask, the thought of asking barely at the forefront of your mind, and when he grabs your hips to line you up, lifting himself to adjusting you both, the answer is evident in the movements because he’s just as desperate, just as needy.
“Is this how you want it?” he asks, and you nod your head, feeling shy suddenly, heat creeping into your cheeks—the exchange of words slowing things down enough to put things into perspective in just a matter of seconds.
“This is good…” you answer, on the verge of second-guessing yourself.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah…” you breathe, straightening your spine, your body relaxing slightly, nervous, but the look on Harry’s face is reassuring you, something telling you he wouldn’t take advantage of the situation.
“Will you tell me if you want to change positions if this is too much…” And he smiles then, a playful smirk as you lean forward, and you press your hand into the bed, next to his head. Your face inches from his.
You laugh then, “I want it to be too much…” you tell him, confident in the fact that no matter what position, it’s going to hurt, so why not have control? Besides, you wanted to watch him come undone, be the reason he’s calling your name.
“Dammit… you’re dangerous…” he laughs, his tone low, a silky rasp in your ear as you drop your mouth to his neck, pressing your lips to his soft skin, breathing him in as your free hand navigates his dick to your opening, the stretch imitate as his tip dips in, and your breath catching as you shove him inside you. Amazed by the force it takes just to inch him in the smallest amount as Harry exhales a heavy breath into your neck, and holy shit, your lack of sex is finally catching up, you think as you push yourself up, your face hovering over his.
“Fuck—” you breathe with a smile, trying not to laugh, and your eyes sweep over his face, your brain taking mental notes of every look of pleasure that has stolen Harry’s features, saving them for later.
“We can go slow?” he says, leaning up to grab hold of your face, a harsh breath leaving your mouth as he presses his lips to yours, his dick inching further in with every moment.
You pull away from the kiss, teetering on pain’s edge as you rest your forehead against his, “Just push into me…” you whisper, lifting your head to look him in the eyes.
“What?” He asks, confused, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t want to hurt you…”
“Let’s just rip the bandaid off—” Then it’s happening. Harry gazes up at you; a moment of hesitation, then he grabs your hips and bucks himself deep inside you, the pain ricocheting through your teeth as you bit down hard, sealing your pained moan behind your lips, and you screw your eye shut, sinking your weight into your hips ceasing any further movement.
“…fuuuuuuuuuuck….” you whisper, your head spinning, dizzy with the thought of his cock buried inside you, like he’s splitting you open, carving out a space for himself. There was no going back after this because this is the kind of dick you dreamed of, the kind of dick you wanted to break you in, claim you, make you theirs, and even if there’s pain now, there’s bliss in the thought of knowing.
“Take your time…” he breaths his voice a strained whisper, and you can tell this is just as painful for him, but in a different way, your walls gripping him tight, and as you release a breath, the pain begins to ease with the thought of exploring the onset of pleasure gradually taking way, the exploitation a vice of its own, and it’s just enough.
And when you open your eyes, there he is, Harry, staring back at you, a look somewhere between concern and pleasure, because then you’re moving your hips, slow, getting used to the feeling of him inside you as Harry grips the meat of your hips, exhaling when you lean back down, to kiss his lips, a warm breath filling your mouth, and there’s the pleasure—you and Harry—chest to chest, two hearts beating as one—then he moving you guys along, planting his feet into the bed, and you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.
Harry lifts his hips, grabs hold of your ass, and pushes into you, easing apart your ass cheeks just enough to open you up more, dipping deeper this time, repeating the motion until you’re bouncing up and down in his dick, both of you pushing moans in out of one another mouth, each one louder than before, the sensation overwhelming every sense of your body. Every thrust drives deeper as you feel your body begins to succumb to the pressure building, a knot tightening in your lower belly, and it’s this, this is what you wanted.
All of it.
The sound of satisfaction echos around you, the squeak of the bed, the thud of the wooden headboard banging against the wall, both of your effort playing in tandem, the push and pull—a give and taking until the both of you are forming a rhythm, two bodies playing out like a fucking symphony, every moving part a perfect balance. Then you’re crying out his name, pushing up on his chest until your palms are flush with his dewy skin, and when you lock eyes with his, you nod your head, tilting your hips back and forth, your movements growing desperate, faster, and when you say:
“I’m close,” Harry leans up and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you down hard, the friction slowing, each moment deeper and deeper.
“How close are you?” He forces
“I’m close—don’t stop…” you plead.
“Fuck…” He breaths, thrusting hard, “So good—”
“Don’t stop—” you beg. “Don’t you dare fucking stop—”
“I’m so close—” he groans, and you slam your hips down, seconds away; just seconds, that’s all you need.
“I’m gunna come…” you force, stealing your orgasm as you grind your hips into his pelvis, your knees stretching as wide as they can, the position limiting, but it’s just enough, and when Harry drives into you again, yelling out your name, it seals your fate, your whole body buckling, and you collapse, your pussy gripping his dick tighter, seizing around the contour of his hard cock as Harry bursts inside you, his pulsing dick the perfect ending as you ride out our orgasm.
And then you’re both catching your breath. Your bodies pressed together, the thud of his heartbeat racing across your lips, your face buried in the crook of his neck now as you nibble a soft bite into the pulse beating under his skin. Harry lets out a breath laugh, cool air sweeping over your damp shoulder, and you don’t move, his dick still inside you, both of you unwilling to part.
When you lift your head, taking in the sweaty glow of his face, you sweep a stray curl from his forehead as a soft smile spreads, his dimple dipping. " Hi,” he whispers, his voice dripping like honey from his lip, and it’s so sweet, kindness emanating through every gentle touch, pouring out into the delicate kiss he plants on your lips as you bask in the afterglow of pleasure.
And it’s strange how quickly your mind just switched gears because now you want to beg for forever, have him hold you in his arms just like this, laugh, tell him he just marked his territory because there’s no going back, you think again, really meaning it, your mind in the dizzying aftermath of pure fucking bliss because now you want to make him fall in love, pray that this was a starting point, pick his brain, ask him what he’s thinking as your thoughts spiral.
All of this running through your mind as you deepen the kiss, Harry holding you tighter, then he breaks away, falling back onto the bed, his body relaxing as he crosses his arms behind his head, and then he smiles, face beaming, “Is it too early to think you may have just locked me down…hopefully you’re okay with that.”
And really, the joke is on him because he doesn’t even know the half of it, so when you send him that sweet little smile, all you can do is laugh, thinking if he only knew, but I guess we’ll find out.
A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Hope you enjoyed!
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Based this request off the pictures of Nika flexing at the top of your profile, plus the pictures she’s posted working out and then that video of her doing leg exercises and her quads looking insane- Nika’s girlfriend just being a simp for Nika and how strong, hot and beautiful she is but also being funny and telling her that Paige has bigger muscles than her now (which honestly might be true lol)
2 HANDS - N.M.
I honestly think I write for nika the best....idk what that's about
Back at the shared dorm rooms of the UConn women's basketball team, I laid on the couch waiting for my girlfriend to come back. None of the team really cared that was constantly around. Honestly, they probably enjoyed the fact that when I was around, Nika wasn't getting on to them about something.
My phone was starting to become boring, but at the last second, a edit of Nika popped up. The edit flowing with whatever song was trending on tiktok at the moment. The clips showing Nika frustrated or just looking fine.
As the video played over and over again, the sound of keys jiggling into the keyhole made me jump up. The door opening in a second.
"I mea-Babe....you okay?" Nika stopped mid conversation to ask me, my nervous state more obvious than I'd like. Her strides quick and determined as she made her way to me. Her hands holding my arms as she looked me in the eyes.
"uh...yeah...yep," I could hear the faint sound of the music playing over and over again in the back. My nerved sky rocketing as Nika grabbed my phone.
"holy shit..." her eyes seemed to light up a little, "you were watching edits of me."
Paige snickered, "she couldn't help herself, thinking of you at the gym and everything, twin!"
Heat rose to my cheeks, "I...i wasn't watching edits. It just so happened to come on as you came home." Paige mention of the gym made my thoughts run back to what Nika looked like there. Sweating, muscles popping, a shiver ran down my spine.
"Sure, bebo." She rolled her eyes, handing me my phone back. "Couldn't help but think of these bad boys, huh?" As she flexed her arms, I couldn't help but bite my lip.
"put those awayyyy... don't wanna scare me off, do ya?" Her airy chuckle made my nerves settled a little, "but..."
An eyebrow raised as Nika looked at me, "but what?"
"I do think Paige is starting to get bigger....but who knows," a smirk rested on my lips, watching my girlfriend's face drop. She called the blonde back into the room.
"Paige! Get your ass in here!" A second passed before the blonde walked in, shorts and a sports bra the only thing covering her body. "Tell my girlfriend that I've got bigger muscles than you."
"what?!? No!" She waved her hand, shooing the girl off, "she's obviously knows what she's talking about."
Dumbfounded, Nika gave me a look, "babe...do you really think her muscles are bigger than mine?"
I shake my head, watching the girl's smile return. With one swift motion, she picked me up, walking us to her room. "Nika!"
"hmm?"
"put me down!"
"once I get you to my room, than I'll put you down," the smirk was huge, and undeniably doing something to me.
I rolled my eyes, waiting for the girl to put me down on her bed. She placed me down, standing back up to throw her shirt off her body. You would think this would go somewhere else, but it didn't go there. She started flexing, wiggling her brows down at me.
"Paige wouldn't have been able to carry you...she got fake muscles. I got the real ones, " I snicker.
"baby, I was just joking," she sighed, I stood up and wrapped my arms around her torso, "you're the strongest, sexiest woman I've ever seen. Is that better?"
She laughed, "Maybe not ask if that's better....but it definitely sounds good you calling me sexy."
We stood there for a minute, in each other's arms. I couldn't deny the fact that I was into the girl, possibly in love, but I didn't wanna be the first to say it. I didn't wanna sound dumb...but to my surprise, I wouldn't have to wait much longer.
"I love you...ya know?" Nika sounded uncertain, careful with her words. A smiled stretched across my face.
"I love you too...ya know," I leaned up to kiss her lips, "you and those gigantic muscles you have."
"you're so unserious," shaking her head, a small laugh came out.
"yeah yeah.... that's nothing knew."
#wbb#nika muhl#wnba basketball#wcbb#wnba#uconn wbb#womens basketball#wbb x reader#nika muhl x reader#wnba players
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/eb5c77fd4d4195a7905ce6958abef553/47bcfd44064441cb-26/s540x810/f3d609dd025fc248e851356dda64055d9b20660b.jpg)
Overindulgence on Valentine's Day Chocolate~ 🍫💦
This was a very silly little idea I had in my head for Valentine's Day. It was originally going to just be a one-shot fanfiction I write but you should all know by now... xD
I don't know the definition of a one-shot fanfiction
My first ever stomach issue related themed sickfic~ :3
Here is the story (bc archive direct link doesn't wanna work)
Now as for the art, it's pretty self explanatory; our favorite silly little CEO received a lot of appreciation chocolate from some of the citizens of Kanai Ward. Touched by the gesture and finally receiving love reciprocated by the city he loved so much, he didn't leave a single sweet treat given to him untouched or uneaten.
This would later lead to disaster ;w;
Thankfully Yuma is there to lend him a helping hand :3
Spoilers for the Story's Outcome below~ (another drawing +further rambling as always lol I always say too much haha... ^^;)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/628ab5126f87d86e6453bc1c7caf14a8/47bcfd44064441cb-3d/s540x810/f5483df6ba5412a6c3ddf335cc0c1a7f3b76014f.jpg)
The best home remedy for an tummy ache is a good tummy rub 🩷
Okay, so I was honestly wanting to write a story like this for a while but was incredibly shy about it... Because upset tummy rubs lowkey are another very small guilty pleasure of mine. When a person gets an upset stomach from either being sick or from overeating, I personally find it to be a very comforting, touching and even at times very intimate gesture. (I even remember trying it myself to help a friend of mine w gastritis in highschool)
Sadly, I felt very shy and even embarrassed to want to try and write something like this, let alone draw it out... Tummy rubs are unfortunately often seen as kinks or are fetishized by other people so it's often seen as weird to the public... So it made me feel nervous to even share this story and art. I did have lots of fun drawing it, but I'm saying it right now, I do NOT fetishize this okay? ><;
(not trying to kink shame, its just not my intention here is all ;w;)
In fact; abdominal massages (a.k.a tummy rubs) are actually a real medical procedure to recover the pressure in one's stomach.
The pose of this art was incredibly difficult to draw but I am fairly happy with the way it came out. Yuma looks either doting or affectionate towards Makoto and Makoto looks perfectly relaxed laying in his lap c: Yuma politely took his shoes off but Makoto is the type to leave his shoes on even when he’s laying on furniture (we saw it in ch4 twice lol) They're such cuties, I love them so much💕 (I even added a kitty to convince myself that its cute and not weird... ;w;)
Truth be told, this idea was actually semi-inspired by a little doodle that @cochidinh drew on X. It made me think that if Makoto received valentines from the people of Kanai Ward, would he eat all of them?
And thus this story was born c: (its meant to be silly so please try not to take it too seriously... ;w; They may seem OOC here, I did my best but this is my first time ever writing a story like this so I might be rusty... ;w;)
EXTRA BONUS: Kitty Makoto 🐱
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f67a07d359ef17ce49d0ed05240dbe02/47bcfd44064441cb-77/s540x810/5087835be9aa74e55296e4646fe26effa6ed16a8.jpg)
Fun Fact: Did you know that cats only allow belly rubs from a person they trust? :3c I think Makoto is very cat-like tbh haha~
Anyway Happy Valentines Day🩷
Don't eat too much chocolate now! 💦
#rain code#whumpcode#master detective archives: rain code#rain code spoilers#yuma kokohead#makoto kagutsuchi#makoyuma#pixeldoodles#my art#valentines day#tummy ache#this is my first stomach ache fic#PLEASE BE NICE OKAY ;w;#its a bit different from what I usually do#tbh Idk if I'd say its really a sickfic#but my boy still suffers lmao xD#when you get too silly with the candy#be prepared for hell later lol#I know this is a good site to be weird#but I can't help but still worry ;w;#least the art is cute lol#I still hc these two to be tummyache survivors#somewhat proud of the way the second art came out :3
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How does one become your friend?
honestly I'm so mentally compromised by fatigue today that my answer- I don't know??- sent me into an actual spiral of "do I not know how to be a friend to myself is it a commentary on my psychological health and state of being" sooooo might just have to leave all that aside and go with, uh, try messaging or chatting some way? I'm generally afraid of bothering people, what if they think I'm a creep, but I usually like it when people talk to me and then boom! I, at least, consider us friends- same as most people on here I'd guess. But watch out! I am annoying and unless discouraged will then consider us pals forever if we have two friendly interactions, sorry.
#to be honest there are many people on here I don't talk to and maybe aren't even mutuals with who I kind of consider friends#but that definitely might just be in my head lol#I see familiar names and think oh hey guys. here we are. hanging out :)#thornier questions include how to be a friend? does chit chat a friend make? should I be doing more?#things I am good at: talking about fandom stuff. annoyingly ranting about fandom stuff#things I am not good at: talking about RL stuff. not being awkward if attempting to address real life stuff#fun fact got this and a troll ask together and was like... are they making fun of me? will this one disappear when I block the other one?#but it didn't so I guess it might be real? feel weird posting but would feel weirder not answering#idk you guys should answer in replies how does one become friends with anyone online what do you think?
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fire lord zuko and ambassador katara were spotted out on their date night(?) 🧐
#zutara#zutara fanart#my art#im trying to practice colouring in greyscale??? idk lol#trying something new#pose is definitely inspired and referenced from louis patridge and olivia rodrigo's hard launch pic#this is totally canon compliant btw#in my head they ditched this formal event...or something...#zuko plucked out some fire lillies for katara 😍😍😌🥰#oh and i was too lazy to draw his crown hhhh lets just imagine its there#i might mess around and colour this one day.....we'll see....
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I drew something to go along with it, because I saw a drawing pose on pinterest and-- well-- here we are
---- A Human Function to Study ----
The alchemist nodded, his eyes keenly observing how Kaeya’s nostrils quivered, the edges flared and twitched in response to each stroke of the feather.
“Anything else you could add?”
Kaeya sniffled sharply, his voice was unsteady as his body was preparing to sneeze. “Like…I hHh–I r-really nehHh…hhh….need to snHhehH–! S-sneeze–!”
Albedo hummed, still tickling Kaeya’s nose, pushing Kaeya to the breaking point. “Interesting–”
“ hHh’ihH–Ih’tTSCHhh!! eHEH’tCHH’uhh!! hHh’EH’TSHHhh!!”
A rapid triple burst out of Kaeya, catching Albedo’s hand in the crossfire. Not that either of them actually minded. Kaeya’s whole body shook with each desperate sneeze. Four, five, six, was he done yet? Kaeya felt relieved when the sneezes had finally come out. It was torture attempting to talk about it while being tickled like that.
----
#mochiissnzart#snz#snz art#sneeze#sneeze fic#i still struggle to draw Al/bedo after all these years but at least there's definitely improvement#KA/EYA IS SO PRETTY i love that pretty man but also ka/eya WTF are you wearing i still don't understand his top?????#sketching/lining skills improvment too when i have refs :D omg lol#50/50 chance i eyeball the hair and it looks good w/o rough sketch#i think i've drawn ka/eya enough to know tho lol#sorry i ramble so much im just i see improvement each time i draw for myself and i'm so happy about it#some of you here might remember my old Kae/be/do art haha and yeaaaa#but occassional bursts of happiness are rare these days haha 😭#eventually 😭 i /will/ draw my ocs and they /will/ be pretty#that is my goal - to draw my pretty ocs in more than just single frames and heads#i /really really really/ want to draw a oneshot manhwa .....is it possible? ofc. the motivation/time? ehh thats a different story idk#still experimenting slighlty with style because sometimes it uhh is sloppier when i'm being lazy t-t for now ill just keep studying stuff#kae/ya#al/bedo#gen/shin#mochiisart#i promise this isnt ad-ing for my fic xD i just like drawing my thoughts..#ge/nshin
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Just Admit It- Part 1
I've been playing around with possible friendship dynamics of the Beast Council for fun!! I love imagining what kind of childhood they could have in the Forgotten Land all together.
What if Carol and Sillydillo are the fun-loving extroverts? Leon is the introverted one who's been smitten by Carol for a really really long time but he's too shy about it? And Gori is the friend who is an excellent observer and will bluntly tell you what he thinks (and maybe has a tendency to get grumpy when things aren't easily going his way).
Somewhat of a prequel to this other doodle comic about Leon and Carol- everyone here is still a kid ^_^
Part 2
#I know beast pack headcanons are so wildly up to interpretation! there's a few canon personality traits and lots of space to fill in betwee#I also just love stories about a group of lifelong friends all doing their best!#so why not play around with them and see what kind of stories about love and friendship they might experience? heehee.#and not all of them are about just Leon and Carol I have other plans!! this is just one of the first ones I have :P#these are quick and very self indulgent but I hope they can still be enjoyable hehe#friend squads for the win!!#also I feel like I draw the beast council a little differently every time I try lol. I'm getting used to them okay they are all so so shape#you should see the first drawings I ever tried to do of them. they are a little rough xD#I'm starting to understand why there's not a TON of content for them. Pretty much everyone except Carol are BUILT DIFFERENT#LEONGAR. WHY is your body and head proportioned like that?! you made me make up my own rules for drawing you!!#sillydillo and your funny little snout! I learned so much studying you! and I have so much work to do with all of you adjakflja#but I guess that's the definition of developing personal art styles huh?#so I guess these funny little stories have the added benefit of getting me more comfortable with the beasts!#ANYWAY that concludes this round of Jojo's director's commentary. like and subscribe#beast pack#clawroline#leongar#sillydillo#gorimondo#beast council#Kirby and the forgotten land#Kirby series#art#caroleon#????#sHOOT I still don't know the ship name I can't commit to one someone please tell me what it is I don't want to make one up ahh#ask me to tag it and I will happily do so sdjakfljdsla
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hmm. some strangely familiar visitors have blown into gravity falls...
#moonlight valley comic#moonlight valley#gravity falls#werewolf#artists on tumblr#web series#original characters#i had a lot of fun drawing the twins and stan#think i might definitely draw them again in the future#i'm just sicky right now and this goofy oc crossover popped into y#my head before i took a nap earlier#with the resurgence of gravity falls i couldn't resist#dipper and mabel are chaperoned by robin who is chaperoned by julian lol#missionkitty draws
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every time a video includes a photosensitivity warning i gain 10 years on my lifespan
#im definitely guilty of not doing it on here myself#and some things i consider ok for me (i do not have epilepsy) might be bad for someone else#so tagging it slips my mind in cases like that#but when im watching a video in my dark room and WILL get an incredibly bad headache#i really appreciate the heads up man. even as someone who is just Mildly Inconvenienced by it#plus you have like. a potentially massive audience. im a blog that is 90% unsharable#having consideration for your audience with that kind of reach is really good#shows a lot about your character imo. makes me respect you WAY more lol#chat
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Ooo requestober eh? Something I've been curious to see a bit more of maybe is Jake interracting with Scriabin. Edgar wondering about what the two of them talk about together alone got me curious too 👀
(Resending to the main for you :3)
Day 3 - Definitely not kissing! If that's what you think!
Meanwhile, Jake:
#My art#Requestober#Vargas#Scriabin#Edgar#Jake#Since I already got my serious ''This is what I think they might get up to'' a couple Requestobers ago I opted for silliness this time lol#Plus last time I did Before so this time how about some After!#What situation would arise that Scriabin would have a one-on-one with Jake without Edgar? Maybe Edgar had work? Had to take Todd somewhere?#Either way he's painfully jealous on all sides haha poor lad#Jake's good to them I'm sure he'll get some affection later - Scriabin'll still hold it over his head for as long as he can tho lol#Can you tell I like lipstick stains haha ♪ They're legit some of my favourites to draw! :D#I think this is my first time - at least in a long long while - drawing them digitally tho :0 Fun!#They're just jkfdlsafd they're So cute haha ♥ Evidence of attention! Incriminating in their placement <3#Shows where someone was most focused on making them feel loved hehehe it's just so cute to me 💕#Like that they obviously went for each other's necks - of course - but also their foreheads and Jake kissed his nose#And also missed/got a bit too rowdy and got some lipstick on his glasses lol#Tell me that's not adorable!#And in classic fashion the lover returns home and sees lipstick stains and gets envious lol#Scriabin definitely used lipstick to make out with Jake specifically to make Edgar jealous lol - he could've avoided this and chose not to#Kiss him Edgar you'll feel better#Jake just having fun not thinking about the implications haha ♪#I may or may not have spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about how Jake interacts with each of them around kisses >.>#I mean - other than mainfic every time he shows up he ends up kissing them in some capacity! It's hard not to recognize his patterns! Lol
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there's something that just rlly fucking sucks about burnout. like? i'm not even doing much. 5 hours of class a week where i sit down at an easel and draw. then i have an assignment over the weekend that's less than 2 hours long. and i'm still exhausted. i can't draw like i usually do because my imagination + ability to craft compositions is used up. it really makes me wonder if i'll ever get anywhere in life, if this is what gets me down
anyway. i have a bit of a buffer of posts but after that idk how long it'll be. just an fyi
#rambles#sorry to vent on main. might delete this later#an art degree is most definitely unattainable if i can't handle a beginner's drawing class#i like to draw and i'm good at it. but somehow it still wipes me out#yesterday it rlly came to a head when i set up my easel and just. could NOT. make myself draw#art burnout is probably the worst cuz it turns one of my best coping mechanisms into a stressor#actually autistic#<- sorry guys lol
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the thing is, you’re absolutely right! because what neurotypical people sometimes don’t understand is the massive difference between the average level of social interaction that they themselves vs other people get outside of organized or scheduled events like work or school, and also don’t understand the massive difference between what failure looks like, and how those two things overlap. i’m told that among the average neurotypical person, they’ll make a point to talk to people in their lives or hang out with friends or go on dates or chat with other people in public spaces, al to have casual interactions, multiple times a day, multiple days a week. meaning, if they have a failed social interaction, it’s buffered by the many successful interactions they’ll go on to have. failure most likely won’t mean complete isolation, because they have multiple avenues of interaction to fall back on. and, moreover, a failure in a social interaction when you have (on average) fewer than most means that now rather than that person going “oh that was a weird interaction, i talk to them a lot and it’s not usually like that, maybe it was an off day” they go “huh i don’t know that person very well maybe they’re just like that?”, which means that the odds are way different on whether relationships stay good after mistakes.
social skills are not actually as inherent as neurotypical people like to think. it’s just that when you’re always in practice, always getting back on the proverbial horse, the advice “just get back out there!” does actually work very well. but if you’re not able to do that for any variety of reasons, you can’t play the game the same way. my advice is not “try harder”, it’s “lower your expectations for yourself on what a good interaction and a moment of connection might be”. just as it’s possible you’re somehow unintentionally upsetting people, it’s possible you’re unintentionally making them feel happy, or valued, or heard, even in small, passing interactions. remind yourself that you’re working with fewer resources and a much more limited data pool. a lot of the advice being given is coming from someone who assumes they understand what the math looks like for you, because it’s very difficult to imagine that other side. so instead of trying to overlay a system made for someone who has resources that you just don’t have, you need to figure out what a functional system of interaction looks like for you, and adapt the advice given to fit your situation. my advice, bearing that in mind, is that finding communities and groups can look like a lot of different things, and getting your social needs met can come from a lot of sources, and ideally should! you would understand best what your situation is, and there’s no shame in changing tact to accommodate for your own needs and boundaries.
forgot to answer this for a bit lol BUT yeah, the post was a little bit more about the Conceptual argument than it was about me specifically, so I'm definitely already with you re: 'finding out what your Individual social goals are and working based off of those instead having high expectations based off of other people's metric' stuff. You definitely have a huge point with the "social buffer disparity" between NT people and ND people, where failures are both less demoralizing internally and less impactful externally when you're able to have a greater average of interactions generally also
but I really appreciated the "just as it’s possible you’re somehow unintentionally upsetting people, it’s possible you’re unintentionally making them feel happy, or valued, or heard, even in small, passing interactions" aspect of this message. I do definitely have a recurring problem of like, labeling Myself as an Uncanny Valley Person and automatically assuming that every interaction I'm involved in must be some level of uncomfortable for the other person -- it actually was kind of a revolution moment reading this and realizing that OH it does make sense that if I can unintentionally make people uncomfortable, it's statistically just as likely that I can unintentionally lift people's spirits in one way or another! So thank you very much for that!!
#like this is kind of tangentially related but i have been watching a lot of the smsh reading redit videos and#a story in one of them was this guy posting about how he had a coworker who Really liked Transfrmers and talked about it constantly#and it annoyed him so much that he eventually told her to Shut Up and That's where i tend to assume i push people socially#BUT the flip side to the story was that his Other coworkers told him off over it bc when she Did stop talking about Transformers#at work they really missed it -- like they had genuinely enjoyed listening to her and they wanted Him to apologize so she'd continue#and this ask was the thing that actually made that idea click in my head lol; that weirdness/intensity is not universally Derided#and plenty of people Can and Do appreciate it just as much as others might dislike it.#i wouldn't say i've been wanting to be More Social lately but I HAVE been thinking a lot about like. Talking More?#confusing phrasing. like i'm not particularly pressed/interested about Making Friends but i have spent years sort of holding my#tongue in ways i didn't when i was a kid; which is a habit i have been interested in breaking bc i miss being That enthusiastic#i've been like. trying to build up confidence with like 'i will be annoyingn people and that's Fine' but this ask is like a whole other#- more Positive - aspect of 'it's just as possible your enthusiasm would be a Boon to others' that i wasn't thinking about at all#it's nice to keep in mind! it's definitely more in the spirit of enthusiasm than being braced solely for negativity lmao
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there’s something here i think. maybe
#one of my favorite theories is that brit is actually strahm’s ex wife and hoffman put her in there knowing That#i don’t remember where i saw it but it’s cemented as essentially canon in my head#i think strahm would be like. unconsciously narcissistic enough to chase women who look exactly like him#or at least a younger happier version of him would#got married to brit hoping that being with someone exactly like him would minimize the fighting#he just realizes like 6 months down the line that he would indeed hate to know himself in any form outside of his own head#also YEAH if you’re pinning a man as jigsaw putting his ex wife (definitely had a nasty divorce with) in the game you’re framing him with#would totally make sense#but that might be too smart of a move for hoffman to think up on his own lol#r#saw
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thinking about how someone pointed out that van usually wore her hair tied back before the wolf attack but always wears it down after it
#this is something that i’ve had in my head for so long tbh#like in my van haircut fic i was gonna make her do a buzzcut but then was like#wait no#she would definitely feel more comfortable with hair that could be in her face#especially back in society when people might stare at her scars/it’s not just the other yellowjackets around her#idk van being self conscious is something i think about so much#bc she very much is the type to put on a much more confident mask#anyway having van thoughts but what else is new lol#wait one more thing#doomcoming is the one time her hair is back after the attack#but her scars are covered by a mask so yeah
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for like 3 weeks i was wondering why i was sleeping so much and felt listless. and just now I managed to email 3 people and responded to a month old message in the span of an hour because I got back to TAKING MY FUCKIN MEDS..........
#MOTHER FFFFUCKER#to be fair. my doc said I could stop taking them while im on break since i wouldnt need to be constantly pumped on stimulants#im not sure if it was a side effect but i managed to take like 3 different naps in one day and STILL managed to sleep thru the whole night#at least 2 days into my break. the weird thing is i didnt feel more or less rested afterwards. but mentally i think im in a good place rn#to really put the level of awakeness im at rn i feel weirdly confident i could start one piece. also bc of that sick new opening it BANGS#the song is really good and im in love with the animation style. did some digging and it seems one of the lead animators is masato mori#but i could be wrong. it seems he also did some work on mp100 which could explain a lot lol.. he uses smear frames really well to convey#consistent movement and fluidity!!! someone else might have done color design but it works really really well esp with odas style!!#just love the overall vibe and aesthetic and id really love to study it and incorporate a bit of it into my art.. especially the thick#outlines which i think helps to separate characters and objects on screen. though i have to say the style is definitely more suited to#animation bc of the simpleness and smears. maybe that will help me explore shapes and perspective when i draw... i wanna get better#at drawing poses and angles but i have a hard time wrapping my head around space and using perspective guide lines NGHHHH#i wonder if it has to do with my dogshit ability to judge distance. not depth perception but like. judge how far smth is in metres etc#im also wearing an N95 for the first couple weeks back bc of the wave. absolutely NO BODY is wearing a mask its so fucking over#where im sitting ive heard 5 different people coughing probably not into their elbows!!! and im just. head in my fucking hands#there was a kid sitting a couple seats away in class coughing as he pleases and i wanted to grab him in a chokehold so badly. PLEASEE#ive been annoying my family by asking them to mask up and reminding them to bring masks when they go out and showing them news articles#but at least its working bc we ordered some KN95s and my mom is at least taking me seriously so. please dont be afraid to speak up abt your#health. take care of yourself and others however u can!! wear that mask indoors at your maskless friends house!!! stay home when u can!!#im wearing a surgical mask at home too bc my parents have '''a dry throat cough''' and they are so bad at coughing into their sleeves#also im pretty sure dry throat isnt transmissible bc my brother started coughing too so.. i also tested negative but they havent tested yet#im also not a doctor but i have to keep reminding ppl whenever i can that covid and flu work differently. covid is new and too recent to#have nearly as much research done on it. it seems its also compounding so instead of building immunity it weakens the body and spreads to#to other systems which might explain brain fog and muscle weakness. i remember someone early in the pandemic got infected and it messed up#their smell/taste receptors so bad that they cant eat most foods and that stays in the front of my mind when i think abt covid. christ#yapping
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You're more amazing than brutality
In celebration of overcoming what once felt impossible (available in both transgender and gay flavors)
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#asks#custom cards#the phrase popped into my head the first time i got close to beating 7c#but it's way more fitting for ultrakill#also i had to fake the celeste screenshot because i didn't think to record mine and the ones on youtube weren't good enough#i used a 2nd save file with assist mode and just flew through the level#except i would've had to play through the whole game to unlock the c-sides so i actually just made a custom map with mods#except then the heart was blue so i had to make it a c-side and so i had to make 2 more custom maps and beat them to unlock that c-side#wasn't as hard as it might sound i just copy-pasted the 7c map file and flew through it all in assist mode#definitely worth it to get that pic#if i had messed up and the dash didn't look good enough then the heart would've turned grey on future runs because i already collected it#and then i'd have to do it all again to make it yellow lol#but i got a good-looking dash first try!#also a beautiful coincidence that my achievement was in the transgender game and yours was in the gay game#i need to do brutal at some point#but not before conquering farewell#some people who spent hours on the c-sides beat farewell so i just have to remember: worse players than me have done it
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