#jeweled collar sweater

[gurugirl]

Dress up

sugardaddy!harry x yn | An extra for The Arrangement

Summary: Y/n dresses up in diamonds and jewels and thinks she looks sexy so she secretly makes a solo video of herself. But then she goes out on a limb and sends the video to Harry while he's working.

A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I've given you an update for these two! This was requested! Here

Word Count: 4,548

Warning: 18+ only, smut, use of toys, spanking, sharing of a solo sex tape

The Arrangement Masterlist

. .

Y/n remembers a time when she’d wear clothes that were slightly unkempt. Clean but perhaps maybe a little wrinkled. Shirt hems and collars would be folded funny, buttons misaligned, sweaters and dresses not fitted properly…

Back then she relied on the drier to de-wrinkle her clothes. Nowadays a professional service delivered her freshly cleaned and pressed items to her door. All of which were tailored to fit her perfectly.

So it wasn’t unusual for Y/n to play dress up with herself when Harry was away at the office and she was at home alone. She enjoyed having such nice clothes and things filling her closet. It’s something she never had before.

She’d layer on a silk Chanel dress with her Ferragamo belt, a Hermes scarf, and the expensive custom disk hat with silk roses Harry bought her when they went to the Kentucky Derby. She’d watch herself in the long floor-length mirror and practice walking like a woman who owned the kind of clothes she was wearing.

But sometimes she focused on the jewelry. The pretty shiny rocks and jewels, delicately woven precious metal bands and chains… Harry had bought her more jewelry than she’d ever seen in her life. Diamonds, gold, platinum, rubies, emeralds, pearls, silver… Rings, watches, brooches, necklaces, anklets, earrings, belts, and bracelets. You name it.

And on this particular evening, Harry was at a dinner meeting that was going to run late. She’d bathed and put on her perfumed moisturizing balm and then walked naked into her massive walk-in closet where she opened up her lingerie drawer and spotted the elbow-length velvet opera gloves. She’d only ever worn them once but she remembers the way they felt on her arms and how luxurious it made her feel.

Watching herself in her mirror she slid each glove up her arms and posed, raising her arms over her head to lift her tits and make her tummy appear more svelte.

She grinned as she turned and then she had a sudden idea. Opening up her jewelry armoire she was presented with shiny, sparkly bobbles and jewels.

“Siri… shuffle music by Sara Vaughan to the master bedroom speakers.”

When the jazzy slow music began to play she traced her gloved fingers over the diamond necklace she often wished she could wear every day. It was littered in diamonds, the drop cutting down to just above her cleavage. Lifting it up she placed it gently over her head and laid it over her bust. It was spectacular. Heavy and twinkly and chilled on her skin. She smoothed her hands down her body and stared at her figure in the mirror wearing nothing but gloves and the ridiculously expensive necklace Harry had bought her.

Which then gave her the idea to add on the pretty rainbow jewel body belt. The thin chain was loaded with various colored diamonds, emeralds, rubies, topaz… The end of the chain draped down her back, laying just over her bum with a pretty pearl at the end. Then she put on the drop diamond earrings that matched the necklace. The bottom diamond was so big it nearly reached her shoulder when she shrugged.

She layered pearls and opals and her diamond bracelets over her gloved wrists and then slid on her black high heels, doing a dramatic twirl and bending to see her backside with a giggle.

She swayed her hips to the sexy music crooning through the speakers and then grinned at herself in the mirror, “Look how pretty… Daddy would love this.”

Feeling her naked skin under her gloves was a dream. The way the velvet ran smoothly over her flesh felt sexy and the more jewelry she layered on the prettier she felt. All sparkly and fancy with soft skin and perked nipples.

Sitting her video camera on its stand next to the mirror she hit record and began dancing slowly with herself, all decked out in diamonds. Running her hands over her curves and up to her tits she bit her lip and looked at the camera, “There isn’t anyone that wouldn’t want to have this…” She spun around and laughed to herself before bending at the waist and spreading her thighs just enough that the camera could catch the view of her pussy from behind.

Peeking over her shoulder she stared into the lens and drew a hand down her back and over her bottom before swatting a cheek and moaning softly, “Not so bad with the glove,” she spoke aloud as she lowered her fingers until she could feel the velvet sliding over her pussy, back and forth.

Humming she looked at herself in the mirror and then pressed her finger over her other tight hole, “Needs a little sparkle, doesn’t it?”

She stood up and pulled open her toy drawer to select the plug of the night. It was an easy choice. The anal plug with diamonds. Real diamonds. Another thing she didn’t often wear because it was the least practical of her plugs. But it was pretty.

Stepping back up to the camera she held the plug up and drizzled lube over the tip then repeated the words of the song Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets…

Bending at the waist, ass aimed toward the camera she took her left hand and pulled at her cheek as she began to push the plug into her hole with her right hand. Y/n had become quite the expert at putting in her own plugs. She was used to it now. Even though Harry always told her to not do it when he wasn’t present, she often did it anyway. They had fun with it every time he found out she disobeyed him (but she knew he secretly loved it).

“Oh!” She squeaked when the cool metal fit into place and stretched her out. “Feels so good…” she swayed her hips as she spread her ass cheeks for the camera and hummed to the music.

Turning around to face the camera she tutted at herself, “Beautiful… So sparkly. Think I deserve a treat,” she grinned at her reflection and brushed her hand down her torso to her hips, and raised the other arm over her head as she toyed with her clit and gasped.

Of course, she was putting on a little show. Something to watch later on in private. She’d gotten in the habit of making little videos of herself dancing naked or masturbating. Or just talking about nothing really. She’d started to feel so confident and happy with herself thanks to Harry. And the videos were her naughty little secret. Sometimes, with the extra sexy ones, she’d even touch herself as she rewatched them later on, loving the way she looked.

This time was no different. She was stunning with sparkly jewels and velvet gloves. Long stretched of bare skin, breasts bouncing as she swayed and twirled.

Reaching for her breasts she squished them together with a moan and then jiggled them at the camera before swiping her thumb over each nipple, “Get those nice and hard. We know how much I like hard things don’t we?” She laughed to herself.

Reaching into her toy drawer she found her tiny pink vibrator and turned it on, “Gonna feel so good,” she ran the small toy down the center of her body, between her breasts, over her belly button, and then circled it over her pussy with a sharp inhale.

Moving to the music she kept her eyes on the camera and continued pressing the toy against her clit, “Oh… I’m getting so wet.”

Her breathing picked up and her nipples tightened more, goosebumps covered her skin as she felt the yummy sensation of arousal fill her veins.

“Mmm… I do it so well. Always get myself off. Don’t need Daddy every time, do we?” She chuckled and then gasped when she pressed the toy harder against her bud.

“So wet already. Such a dirty, horny girl…” she bit her lip and turned off the pink toy before placing it on the counter and running her velvet-covered fingers up and down her swollen, wet pussy, “So messy… mmm… Gonna get in so much trouble doing this. I think Daddy’s gonna have to spank me.”

The more she stroked her pearl the wetter her gloves got. She clenched her empty hole and moaned, “Need more. Like all my holes stuffed,” she spoke breathily as she peeked into her drawer and pulled out her clear silicone dildo. The extra long one that was ridged thickly and made her come so fast. She needed to get on with the show. Harry would be coming back soon.

Pulling her soft chair in front of the mirror and the camera she gently sat and cooed at the feel of the plug shifting under her bum, “Oop! Fuck that’s feeling really good.”

Y/n lifted her legs, planting her heeled feet on the seat cushion and spreading her thighs so there was an excellent view of her plug and her pussy.

“I’ve gotten myself all wet,” she drew a finger over her inner thigh and licked at the velvet-gloved finger, “Mm! I know why Daddy says it tastes so good. So yummy,” she sighed as she spread her legs wider and placed the dildo against her pussy lips, running it through her slippery folds before finally pushing it in slowly.

She parted her lips and stared into the camera as she began to work the silicone toy in and out until she could push it in deep and it pressed into the shared wall where her anal plug was. The toy tucked in her ass bobbed every time she thrust the dildo in deep and she moaned at the sight, “Oh my god… that’s so hot isn’t it? Look at how both holes take everything I give them so well.”

Fucking herself with the dildo and rubbing her clit with her gloves she stretched her neck back and whined loudly.

The slick sound of her cunt around the silicone toy filled the spaces between the notes and the music playing, just loud enough for the camera to pick up the sound. Going in faster she lulled her head forward to keep her eyes on the camera but she was in a bit of a daze. She always tried to keep her eyes open for the camera when she came because that was her favorite.

“Good girl, baby… Taking your toys so good. Fucking look like a goddess right now. Oh shit… that’s it… doing it so good…”

Her chest was rising and falling and she heard the chime of an incoming text, which she was sure was Harry, “Daddy’s trying to reach me,” she laughed playfully, “But his little girl is busy fucking herself, isn’t that right?”

It wasn’t long before she was shaking and her body was covered in a light sheen of sweat. Her velvet gloves were ruined with her arousal as she fingered her swollen clit and clamped down on the dildo and the plug with a soft cry, “Oh god! Right there… Fuck…”

Her orgasm had wiped her out. She tried keeping her eyes on the camera but her whole head was swirling with pleasure and lust as she trembled and moaned, creaming all over her dildo.

She heaved and pulled the toy out, dropping it to the floor, and leaned back into the cushion to recover for a moment, “So good. You always do it right. Even better than Daddy sometimes,” she snorted a laugh and sat up to look at the camera teasingly before wobbly legs took her across the space to turn off the recording on her camera.

.             .             .

Y/n had watched her newest home video at least four times. And she was so turned on every time she watched it, she’d make herself come in record time, rubbing her clit and feeling so proud of how pretty she looked and how brave she’d become since she’d been with Harry.

And the recent video with all the jewels was her best work yet. She really loved it. So much so that she was thinking about sharing it with Harry. She wondered what he’d think about it. She was positive he’d just go nuts over it like she did. He’d act all upset and stoic. Probably give her a good spanking (at least) but she knew he’d adore it.

So, in a moment of sheer insanity or bravery (she wasn’t sure which) she tucked her top row of teeth into her bottom lip, attached the video to a text message for Harry, and squealed when she hit send. She couldn’t believe she’d sent it. All of her solo videos had been her little secret all this time but now she was bringing Harry into the mix by showing him.

It was 2 pm on a Wednesday. He was at the office and probably just getting out of his most recent meeting. And she knew he’d see it shortly after she sent it.

She kept her eye on the screen of her phone, waiting for the message to say ‘read’. It only took a few minutes. She giggled to herself as she snuggled into the couch with her laptop and watched the video, trying to time it so that she was watching it at the same time he was. Wondering what he was thinking with every minute that drew on.

Her heart was racing in anticipation of his response. She knew she’d be in for a bit of punishment but she didn’t know exactly what to expect from it.

But then minute after minute drew on. The video had ended and there was no word from Harry. No bobbing dots to indicate he was texting. No phone call. Nada.

She felt heat creep over her skin as she thought about all the ways Harry would teach her a lesson. Y/n knew Harry was making a plan. Surely he was devising some kind of punishment for her misbehavior. She couldn’t wait.

Less than an hour later Harry was walking through the front door. Y/n peeked over the back of the couch toward the foyer entry and she saw him pass through but he didn’t look in her direction. He breezed by cooly and went into the kitchen.

Y/n scrambled off the couch to follow after him. He was pouring a glass of water for himself silently when she rounded the island and put her hands on his shoulders, “Hi, Daddy.”

He grunted and moved away, making her hands fall from his back as he put the water pitcher back into the fridge before taking a long gulp of his water.

Waiting silently for him to award her a glance she watched her man place the empty glass into the sink as he sighed, placing his palms flat onto the marble countertop, “So you think you can take care of yourself better than I can? Is that right?”

She knew that line would stick out to him.

“I was just teasing. You know no one does it better than you, Da–“

“And you disobeyed me. Looked like you were having the time of your life, Y/n. Did you enjoy wearing all the expensive jewelry I bought you? Enjoyed getting yourself off while I was working hard to keep a roof over your head?” He turned and looked at her. Stern and serious.

Now she knew he was being dramatic. The whole keep-a-roof-over-your-head comment was a bit silly. Harry could retire right then if he wanted to.

“I did enjoy it, actually,” she quipped back before biting her lip.

“Well now at least you’re being honest with me. When did you make the video? Was this today?”

Shaking her head she leaned into the counter, “A week ago.”

He nodded slowly, his green eyes trailing down over her body. She was only wearing one of his t-shirts.

“And what were you up to today that compelled you to send me this one-week-old video?”

 She gulped, “Nothing really. Um… I just wanted to share it with you because I liked it. Thought you’d like it to.” She said blinking her eyes innocently at him.

Harry sniffed, “It was very pretty to look at. But you went against my explicit rules. Does Daddy not give you enough orgasms every day? Every morning and every night I work to keep you satisfied. Are you so desperate for an orgasm that you can’t wait a few hours until I get home?”

She breathed shallowly and looked down, “I just sometimes like to do it myself. And I felt so pretty.”

Y/n felt Harry’s touch on her arm, “Come.”

She followed him upstairs to her closet where he opened up her drawers until he found her toys and then her gloves and opened up the jewelry armoire.

“Put everything on that you had in the video. Meet me in the bedroom when you’re ready.”

Y/n felt her nerves bubble as she put everything on. The jewels, the gloves, the plug, and her heels. She sighed as she gave herself a once over in the mirror before stepping out into the bedroom where Harry was seated at the end of the bed facing the TV. Her video on the large screen paused at the beginning. He had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, ready to get to work.

“C’mere,” he patted his lap. He kept his eyes focused on her body as she neared him and placed her hand on his shoulder to sit down but he pulled her over his thighs, tummy down, and ass up where he gave her a very swift smack and then massaged at the meat of her bum, pulling her plushy cheeks apart and tapped her plug, “Good. Looks like we’re all set.”

Her head was hanging down and the weight of the necklace was especially heavy in her new position, the earrings pulling at her lobes as she rocked over him to stabilize herself. She imagined she was going to need to hang on to something.

“Watch with me. Lift your head. Let’s see this dirty little video my spoiled girl made.”

She scoured the screen with her eyes, her body in view and the jewels glinting off the light from above her. Y/n had to strain to keep her head up. She leveraged herself up with her hand on the bed next to Harry’s thigh.

She had seen the video enough times that she had the whole thing nearly memorized. The music, the moment she bends and shows the camera her plug, the lines she spoke…

Harry spanked her ass, two stinging open palmed swats to each side and she winced at the pain and gasped as she slid down, losing her balance when she kicked a leg up.

“Stay still for me and keep watching,” he spoke gruffly as he grasped the front of her neck and tilted her head back up so she could watch with him.

Gulping into his palm she arched her back when he spanked her bottom again, “Look at how pretty you are in my lap, baby,” he ran his hand down her spine to the little jeweled belt where the pearl hung at the top of her crack, “All these expensive things on your body, ass up for me,” he twisted the plug, “Pussy wet.”

She moaned when he ran his fingers between her crease and pressed his middle finger inside of her cunt before pulling it out and wiping it on the back of her thigh, where he then gave her another smack.

“Who bought all this for you, baby? Hmm? Who made this whole thing possible?”

“You, Daddy!” She didn’t hesitate to answer him.

“That’s right. This video wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for me. This pussy wouldn’t be wet if it weren’t for me.”

She nodded against his palm and moaned when his fingers circled her clit.

“Always my desperate, needy little girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she gasped when he pinched her bud and she wiggled her hips but he gripped her neck tighter, “Don’t wiggle. You got yourself into this mess. These are the consequences.”

She squeezed her eyes closed as he swatted her again before he continued speaking, leaning down to groan into her ear, “Do you know how hard I got the moment I opened up that video at work? Walking down the hall to my office I had to hide my boner and click the volume off.”

She felt him pinch at her inner thigh, giving her clit a moment of respite from his fingers, “Had to calm myself down and lock the door. But then I finished watching your little video and I had to excuse myself to leave work early. Do you know how disruptive that was?”

She grunted as he pressed over her plug, “Right now, I’m supposed to be in a meeting with a potential investor. This was a big deal, Y/n. But I physically wasn’t able to stay at the office for a moment longer, and it’s your fault. Every time I thought about the way you came with your legs spread and this little plug flicking around from the dildo you were fucking yourself with… had to calm my cock. Was gonna burst in my pants.”

His fingers slid back into her cunt, two this time as he pumped into her walls and continued gripping her neck, “Look.”

She shifted her eyes to the screen and her voice filtered through the room, her gasps and moans as she began to come. And just as he described, her little plug was twitching in time with the way she was pressing the dildo into her cunt. It was a pretty sight.

She moaned when he kissed the back of her ear, “Fucking gorgeous when you come, baby. But this video? S’like a work of art. But you were still naughty. Didn’t get permission to do any of that did you?”

“No, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

His fingers were filling her up and squelching with every thrust, “You look so proud of yourself too. So confident. Like a big girl playing dress up with Daddy’s things. And if my cock weren’t throbbing right now I’d really teach you a lesson but I need to come inside of this little pussy. Been aching for it.”

She felt his legs shift and her body was moved, heels on the floor as he steadied her hips before he stood up and began to undo his pants, “Bend over the bed, spread your legs.”

She wanted to watch him pull his cock out. Wanted to see how hard he was but she knew better than to hesitate. She laid herself tummy down on the mattress and spread her thighs apart.

One of his hands was on her hip, lifting her slightly when she felt his thick cock drag against her pussy and then his chest was pressed into her back, “No one does it better than, Daddy.”

The moment he finished his sentence, lips against the shell of her ear, he slammed his cock inside of her. He took both of her hands in his, the velvet gloves keeping her from feeling his palms, as he pulled her arms behind her back and took both wrists in one big hand as he continued rocking into her.

She felt a sharp smack on her ass again and he grunted, thighs flexing as he worked into her. Her shoulders burned as he kept her arms held down at the middle of her back, one hand groping her ass cheek.

The view he had was gorgeous as always. Her plug pushed and pulled with every thrust of Harry’s cock and he could feel the press of it gliding over his cock through her tight warm walls.

The necklace was digging into her chest but she welcomed the way it felt on her skin as well as the burn of another swat to her bum because her body was giving itself over to him.

“My spoiled girl just keeps getting whatever she wants. Even when she’s naughty she gets all these pretty things; gets Daddy’s cock inside of her, gets all the orgasms she can handle. Guess you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, don’t you, baby?”

“Umph!” She croaked, her cheek smushed into the comforter, letting go of her ass as he leaned over, palm on the mattress, and drove into her with the kind of force she loved. It felt so much better than anything she could do to herself with her meager dildo. Harry’s cock was exactly what she needed.

“Yeah? Didn’t hear you make that noise in your little video.” He buried himself in, bullying another lewd sound from her throat as his hips rutted against her ass.

“Can’t help those pretty little noises can you? Daddy’s cock will always feel better won’t it?”

She was jolted forward, her mouth open with drool pooling over the blankets, “No… your cock… aoohha!”

Harry grinned at her inability to answer properly as he continued pounding into her, still holding her wrists together at her mid-back.

“Squeezing the fuck out of me baby. There you go… fuck…”

Y/n’s orgasm wiped her body out. The way the plug was stretching her out and Harry’s big cock was slamming into her guts she couldn’t hold on for a second longer.

She heard Harry panting between grunts and then felt both of his hands on her ass as he pressed in deep and unloaded himself, filling her insides with his come.

“My pretty baby. Love seeing you dripping in diamonds and all fucked out of your mind. Does it make you feel good baby? Wearing all these expensive things?”

He had his chest pressed into her back as he spoke quietly into her ear, hips pasted to her ass.

“I love it. It’s so nice, Daddy.”

He moved off of her, reaching an arm under her waist to pull her up to standing, and turned her in her arms, “Look at this,” bringing her gloved hands into his, he lifted them upward, “Ruined. Need to buy you new gloves it appears.”

She realized the cleaning job she’d done on them after making the video had been shoddy at best and now the tips of the fingers were steaky and lighter than the rest of the material, “Maybe dry cleaning?”

Harry pursed his lips as he began to take off her bracelets, unhooking each clasp, “Maybe. Not sure these can be salvaged, though.”

When he pulled her gloves off he reached around her neck to undo the necklace and then her jeweled belt before running his hands up and down her arms, “Gorgeous with or without all the diamonds,” he smirked.

“I like the diamonds, though. Fun to play dress up.”

He raised a brow and brought her left hand up to his mouth pressing his plush lips over her ring finger, “Thinking about what you’d look like with a pretty diamond right here.”

Y/n parted her lips and kept her gaze locked on Harry’s, “Like a… ring?”

Harry laughed at her shocked expression and pushed his fingers between hers as he cupped her cheek with his free hand, “Yeah. Like a ring.”

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[beansprean]

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Some of my fav Vampire Guillermo outfits from my ongoing paper doll insanity! May or may not be canon for My Familiar's Ghost ;). 30+ more of these over on Patreon lol

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Full body of vampire Guillermo posing with his right hand in a peace sign and his left hand holding up his phone in selfie mode. He is wearing round glasses with gold frames and has his lips pursed as he looks at his phone screen. He is wearing brown dress shoes with a gold flame pattern, brown chinos, and a dark red ribbed sweater vest over a blue and pink floral button down. His collar is popped and he has on several gold rings, a gold hoop in his left ear, and a gold dangle on his right.

2. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown dress shoes with a lighter toe cap, dark blueish gray wool pants with a checker pattern, a lighter gray sweater vest over a pink button down with white stripes, and a black four tailed peacoat with a red rose pattern and lighter red lapels and liner. He has on several gold rings and gold studs with a curved loop back.

3. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown dress shoes with a lighter heart shaped toe cap, red chinos, and a sheer black button up with a red heart pattern over a black tank top. He has a single silver ring with a heart shape on his left ring finger and teardrop red jewels dangling from his ears.

4. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing rosy brown dress shoes with lighter wing tips, light pink cuords held up by suspenders, and a light pink and peach floral button up under an open knee length rosy brown cardigan with vertical stripes. There is a gold stud in his left ear and a dangling peach feather in his right.

5. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing leopard print loafers with no socks, black highwater pants, a black sweater with a knit chest pattern over a white button down, and an open front beige poncho with a diamond pattern along the trim. His shirt is untucked beneath the sweater, and he has on a pearl necklace along with several gold chains and matching pearl earrings.

6. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing brown wingtip shoes, black pinstripe high waisted pants, and a pale pink silk button up unbuttoned to his sternum under a knee length rosy brown fur coat. He has a white gold chain with a fang around his neck as well as matching rings topped with fangs on his middle two fingers and small hoops in his ears.

7. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing chocolate brown loafers, equally rich brown trousers, and a lace patterned sage green button up under a dark red cardigan with a diamond pattern. He has a knee length dark blue peacoat with a pink and green flower pattern on the lining and lapels as well as red teardrop earrings and a large blue stone on his left middle finger.

8. Repeat. Guilermo is wearing black dress shoes, black pants with a lighter bluish plaid pattern, and a black sweater over a white shirt with a red heart in the knit pattern over the breast. Fishnet pokes out from beneath the sleeves and he has on several silver rings, as well as a thin vertebrae necklace and ear studs with a silver triangle dangling from the left.

9. Repeat. Guillermo is wearing periwinkle loafers, dark purple-black pinstripe pants, and a translucent lace button down decorated with silver stars under a waistcoat colored like the night sky, with a purple nebula at the bottom and black with stars at the top. He has thin chain earrings and several silver rings shaped like stars and moons. /end ID

[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. 

[ann-writes-universes]

The Jeweler (AzrielxReader)

A/N: Missed you guys <3 Not my best but its cutie.

EDIT (Jan 23.2024): Forgot to add the tag list, srry guys :,) <33333

W.C: 1.3k

Warnings: Slight mentions of smut. Angst?

Winter in Velaris was truly a marvel. As the solstice approached decorations and lights littered the buildings of The Rainbow, and the streets bustled with life as city goers made last minute preparations.

From the frost coated glass of your apartment you watched as families scurried out of the cold, and lonesome travelers slowed by shop windows to take a peek inside. From its place on the wall your clock struck seven and you tore your eyes away from the scene below. If you listened closely enough you could hear as the jeweler, Mr. Krazinski, downstairs, closed up shop for the evening and began to head home for the weekend. As he went about his Friday evening routine- you too began your own. The tea you had been nursing (now cold) was discarded and a bath was drawn full of lavender and other frilly things an herbalist nymph had convinced you to buy earlier in the day. In no time, the pale blue tiles of your bathroom were slick and steam was rolling out from beneath the door- spilling into your hall. In the living room you lit candles, cedar and pine. The fae lights bobbing on your wall were extinguished, only the crackling fireplace radiated light now. The clock struck eight then, and you moseyed towards the bath. You’d take your time there- worship yourself and make sure every inch was perfect. He’d be there by eleven after all. By the time the clock struck nine the bath had drained, bits of lavender and other botanicals slowly drying to the bottom of your tub. You had pulled out your fineries. Lotions, perfumes, wine. At ten you were dressed, a deep emerald number- frilled with lace. Here was the winter solstice tree, lit for the occasion and you standing before it. With only half an hour left you downed your glass of wine, curled up in a chair facing the door. Eleven strikes and the locks begin to turn. Within moments your small doorframe is crowded by seven feet of illyrian muscle and wing. He’s dressed simply this week- dark trousers and a thick cable knit sweater. His wings are pulled tight, remnants 

of snow melting off their taloned tips. 

“Right on time, Shadowsinger.” You purred, trailing the rim of your glass with your scarlet red finger tip. He hummed his reply, stepping into the threshold of your home and firmly relocking the door behind him- a habit he had when he stayed here. You had always found it quite charming- him locking the door as if the most dangerous creature in Velaris would not be curled up in your sheets within the hour. 

“Am I ever late, Jeweler?” 

You audibly chuckled then,a noise that had a smile tugging at the Illyiran’s lips as he settled into the couch. Jeweler was a name he had been fondly calling you for years now, ever since he found out where you resided. 

“I suppose not.”

He was looking at you then, dragging his eyes back and forth across your frame and the bits of exposed skin. If you had been naive you would have thought it was the surmounting heat of the fire making him shift in his seat. But naive you were not. You placed your wine glass on the floor as you stood and sauntered over to where he sat. Azriel placed his hands on your hips and with one firm tug you were in his lap. He chuckled as you stumbled forward- a flailing thing compared to the elegance with once you just moved. Strong arms enveloped you and the room around you seemed to fade. The troubles of the week melted away as the shadowsinger kissed his way down your neck, across your collar, and down, down, down…

You had lived a long time and experienced many things but the way Azriel made you feel was different than anything you had encountered before. With a stroke of his fingers he had you writhing and moaning gutturally, falling blissfully further away from the world around you. By the time the two of you were spent, the fire had reduced itself to cinders in the hearth. Outside- a blizzard was well into forming, snow pushing its way past the glamors which kept Velaris safe from any real damage. 

You lay splayed across the rug before the fire- an afghan he had grabbed slung across your forms. Above your heads, strong cedar beams supported the ceiling. If you squinted, spiders had made homes in the corners and were scurrying dutifully across the wood. 

“Sometimes I think about staying here for good.” Azriel mumbled from beside you, his voice halting the soft circles he had been tracing into the bare skin of your side. You let out an airy chuckle at his statement and turned your head to face him. 

“So why don’t you?” A question you knew the answer too. One he knew the answer too as well.

He seemed to mull over your words for a moment anyhow before stating, “Because Jeweler, if I saw you everyday- im afraid it would change my life.” 

You stared at him for a moment, holding his hardened gaze. He seemed serious- deathly so. But he was not, and you knew that much. Keeping the thought at hand you laughed once more and teasingly shoved at his bare chest as you stood from the floor. 

“Of course it would, Shadowsinger. You would be reminded of Mr. Krazinski’s sales everyday instead of every Friday evening.” 

Azriel audibly groaned as you pranced towards the bathroom to fetch a robe. When you returned to the living room he was tugging on his pants. 

“Why dont you let me take you out to eat next week?” Azriel offered as he slipped his sweater back on. A boot following not far behind it. Leaning in the doorframe of the hallway you smiled tightly but only offered him a shrug. 

“You know where I stand on dates, Azriel.” 

“Then don't call it a date.” He shot, frustrated that you would not cave. 

From across the room you searched his eyes, tried desperately to find something that would make you change your mind- and you… couldn't. You see, you knew who Azriel was. You had known him for the past two decades- and your bed had seen him through some very tumultuous parts of his life. Several times over the years he had tried to take it further than pleasure, but your answer had always been no. There was no denying he was an attractive male, witty, incredible in bed, and even charming when he chose to be- but most of all he was the Spymaster of Rhysand’s Court. A master of deception and torture. You lived above a jeweler, taught nighttime pottery classes, and drank chai tea. His was not a life you could keep up with. And yours was one he would tire of quickly. To go on a date with Azriel would be to open a door that you were not sure you could step through- terrified of what lay on the other side. 

“Im Sorry, Azriel. You know I-” Before you could finish he smiled tightly and nodded.

“You cant. I know.” He tugged his jacket on as he spoke and headed towards the door. He did not say goodbye as he left, merely shut the door and locked it behind him. Listening to him clunk down the tiny staircase ached every week- but this one especially so. Yet again he had confronted you with a reality you could very well possess but simply could not yet face. Flopping down onto your couch you poured the last of your long forgotten wine and stared as the liquid swirled in your glass. 

He would return next week- inevitably to ask you out yet again. And maybe it was the last of the wine souring your brain as you tossed it back- but as you curled into your bed that night, you thought that maybe next week- just maybe… you would say yes.

TAGS:

@brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @younxii @momlo @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @highladyofillyria @crimsonandwhiteprincess @purplevitagen @isthataknuck

[sandboxer]

The Evolution of Edgeworth’s Color Palette

Throughout the original AA trilogy, Edgeworth undergoes significant changes not only in his character, but in his design as well. I’m ridiculously interested in the way these tweaks to his design (especially the colors he wears) exemplify the emotional changes he experiences and his relationships with other characters.

(1) The class trial is the earliest we see Edgeworth. He wears a bowtie in his father’s signature deep red. We also see at this point that Phoenix wears blue. This deep red and mellow blue are their most basic colors, respectively.

(2) After the class trial, Edgeworth and Phoenix have become friends. And their newfound friendship is reflected in their clothing changes: Edgeworth incorporates a bit of Phoenix’s blue in his bowtie; Phoenix incorporates a bit of Edgeworth’s red in his sleeves. Both retain their own basic colors, though, keeping the bits of each other that they steal as minor details. Phoenix still wears signal blue on his shirt, and Edgeworth wears a red sweater.

(3) The next time we see Edgeworth is during the Bratworth era, and I find this the most interesting period of time design-wise. The theme here is FRAUD, both in character and design. Much like his style of prosecuting at the time, his design is meant to attract attention, but it is symbolically hollow. His suit is a pure, bright red, a far cry from the mellower tones of his fathers’ tie. His waistcoat, too, is blue, but a far brighter and greener shade than Phoenix’s. It is a rejection of their friendship and the justice Phoenix embodies. In fact, the shade of his waistcoat is closest to the jewel around MVK’s neck. His entire design reeks of MVK—the cravat, the gold details on his waistcoat, the embellished lapels, the high black collar. Though at first glance he may have seemed to retain the red-and-blue of his childhood, it’s only a poor replica, twisted into something devoid of true meaning by the hands of von Karma.

(4) And then we come to the trilogy, where we see Edgeworth in his (comparatively sensible) maroon suit and cravat. He’s toned down the artifice and returned in a meaningful way to the symbolism of his childhood design. The bright red of his Bratworth suit has been 1) dulled and 2) shifted further toward blue on the color wheel. This color is much closer to the deep tones of his father’s tie. And this time, instead of relegating his care for Phoenix to an accessory like a bowtie, he’s tinted his entire suit. It’s a symbolic decision for him to keep the cravat he adopted under MVK’s tutelage, as well. Not only does it serve as a reminder of his growth as a prosecutor, but it also recontextualizes the essential image of von Karma (his neckwear) into something good and just with each case Edgeworth takes on under his adjusted mindset.

It’s worth noting, too, that Phoenix’s tie since his debut as an attorney is red, but a much pinker red than is often acknowledged. In my mind, this ties him specifically to the trilogy era Edgeworth, rather than the bright, pure red of Bratworth or the deep red of Edgeworth’s childhood.

Not included in the image above is Chiefworth, as I do think much of his design is similar to his trilogy design, albeit slightly more refined. But it would be remiss not to acknowledge his glasses during that era, bringing him even closer to the image of his father.

[marky4l]

tour blues

pairing: lee donghyuck x fem reader

wc: 2.1k

genre: smut

warnings: canon compliant lol, hyuck and mc let loose during tour, mild degradation (mild I think), choking (brief), spanking (once), hyuck is mean, mc is a brat

hi, i had a thought and wrote for a few hrs and decided if i put something out it would be this lol. veryyy brief and just self serving & gratuitous

–

“it’s been hours.”

you pout petulantly, legs crossed from your seat on the dressing room couch. you watch your boyfriend pause from his position at the door, closing it and locking it gently. he’s handsy with the high collar of his tour outfit—an elaborate mess of jewels and baubles, shiny with every step.

you clear your throat. “hours, hyuck.”

“baby, i couldn’t control the post-show happenings. okay? there was a photoshoot, a meet and greet with a few fans, drinks—i couldn’t escape.” he’s growing impatient with the fact that his outfit isn’t coming loose and he grunts. 

“fuck, then.” you spout. “i hate tour.”

“you do not.” he pulls and a button comes loose. it’s still stuffy but much less so, and he breathes in relief. 

“i do. i’m like a fucking groupie.”

“well, when you tag along i get to have a dressing room to myself, so how about we count our blessings?”

you roll your eyes, sighing loudly so he can hear your annoyance. he turns, hands busy removing the buttons and decorations from his top. “you want to smoke?”

“no,” you say, but you get up to rifle through his things anyway. you find the blunt instantly, and then the lighter on his dressing room table. “where’d you get?”

“mark,” he responds. “what’d you think of the show?”

“it was great except for that one guy… haechan? dunno if you know him.”

he chuckles, poking his tongue into his cheek and walking over to the couch. he sits down, spreading his legs slightly and depositing the pile of fabric beside him. he’s just in a white polo now. you flick the lighter awake, staring at him. 

“what?” you say sharply.

“jeez, bitey. c’mere. and don’t light the spliff yet.”

you walk over to him until you’re in between his legs, and his arms loop around your thighs in a loose hug. “i’m tired,” you whine.

“you’re not.”

“i am.” you jerk your knee so it almost hits his chin. 

he tuts. “you know what you are? you’re wet.”

you grumble, because he’s right. “wet,” he says again, “and wearing my favorite skirt.”

“way to take a hint late.” and it’s true, it is his favorite—a black miniskirt, that fell high above your knees. donghyuck always had a thing for seeing you in skirts. the tight sweater you wore didn’t do much to neutralize how revealing it was.

you’d worn this skirt a bunch of times, and each one ended with you bent over, legs spread, fucked within an inch of your life. 

“take a seat, baby.” he pats his lap.

“corny,” you retort.

he grunts. “difficult.” 

“well, i am tired.” he laughs, glancing away and rolling his eyes. 

“you’re not tired. you had hours to rest which—you probably did. and you’ve been going shopping around with my card, haven’t you?”

“i am,” you repeat brattily, even if he’s caught you.

he leans back and sighs. “you’re not going to get fucked that easily.”

“who said i wanted to get fucked?” you splutter.

“same person who said you needed to act like such”—he tugs the blunt from your grip—“a fucking brat tonight.”

“tch,” you say weakly. you reach over to run a hand through the pile of baubles he’d disattached from his polo. “your tour outfits are unnecessarily scratchy.”

“mmm, they’re pretty. don’t change the subject.”

“hyuck,” you whine, and it fizzles into silence. you sigh. “please.”

his lips curl upwards. you never even have to ask, he always knows. he slips the spliff in between your lips and you purse them to make sure it doesn’t fall. “go ahead, light it,” he urges, his hands gripping your thighs tight. one of them creeps upwards and you shiver, bringing the flickering flame up to your lips.

“that’s a good girl. on my lap.” he lets go of your thighs.

you take a drag and climb onto his lap, and already you can feel the outline of his cock through his pants. “see, you can listen. when you’re not running your mouth being so difficult you get what you want, right? all pretty and good for me.”

he leans over to kiss your neck, hands on your waist and under the hem of your sweater.

“well, maybe i don’t wanna be good,” you hum, holding the blunt in between shaky fingers. you feel his smile before you hear his chuckle, his lips stretching slowly against the base of your throat.

“oh?” he takes the blunt to take a drag and then deposits it onto the ashtray beside the couch, sighing out in a billow of grassy smoke. “really, now?”

you shake your head, toying with the buttons on his shirt. you can’t keep your hands still. you can still feel his cock, thick and impossibly hard, pressing right against the center of your thighs as you shift, straddling him more comfortably.

the thing with donghyuck—and you, and tour as a whole, really—is that both of you often get exhausted just dealing with shit. for him, it’s tour; for you, it’s the stress of tagging along and staying hidden from the public. sometimes you like to alleviate the exhaustion by letting him take care of you, staying docile and sweet. other times—more tired times, much like now—you want him to beat it out of you and make you cry.

he pauses, thumbs rubbing against your ribcage. your face is so warm. “stand up.”

you scramble to untangle the limbs, retrieving your knees from where they’d settled into the couch cushions and stretching your legs again. you lace your fingers together, and donghyuck takes them into his, kissing the tips. “did you touch yourself while i was gone?”

“on—on the couch,” you stutter. “just, it was after the show ended. and it w—”

“quiet.” he pauses and you follow. his hand pats the couch he’s on. “right here?”

you nod.

“out in the open?” he chuckles, eyes turning to the empty spot beside him. “slut.”

“donghyuck!” you protest.

his gaze flits to you again, dark. “i didn’t ask you to speak, sweetheart.” you pout but stay quiet anyway, flexing and unflexing your fingers in anticipation. you feel his hand at your knee, inching higher and higher until it’s at your inner thigh. you shiver. 

“you touched yourself right here?”

you nod, lips pursed. you want him so bad. he swats your thigh. “words, angel.”

“yeah,” you say breathily.

“were you thinking of me?”

you purse your lips again and hum. “i don’t—can’t say for sure.”

“you’ve got quite the mouth.” you’re dating the most conniving, infuriating son of a bitch. “who were you thinking of, then?”

“could be anyone, y’know,” you say in faux nonchalance. “tch, it could be anyone who could fuck me better.” his fingers press against your damp panties and you whimper. you’re both still fully clothed and he’s got you around him like a desperate whore.

“really? give me a name, angel. use your words if you still have the brain for it.” the mean edge gets to you and you moan, gripping his wrist. his fingers are rubbing at the fabric now, and the friction is going straight to your head. 

“a—a name?” you pause, trying to find control in the haze of his talented fingers. 

“that’s right,” he hums, stopping his ministrations. “turn and bend over.”

you follow, your hands finding purchase on the table in front of the couch. you’re hyperaware of the fact that donghyuck can see your underwear, lace and light and pretty, so light in fact that when you’re soaked, your pussy can be seen right through the material. he grunts behind you and lets his thumb run over it.

“a name,” he repeats firmly. “we’re gonna be here all night, thanks to you.”

“uh, who could fuck me better?” you mull out loud, trying not to stutter. “mark, maybe.”

he laughs, but there’s no humor in it, and you can tell you’ve pissed him off even more. you’ve driven your point home—you want to be fucked. “mark.”

“mmm. he could fuck me good, i bet. isn’t he packing?”

“jesus, you dirty girl.” he swats your ass and you yelp. “look at this.” he pulls your pink underwear down so rough it almost rips, and runs his fingers over your bare pussy, glistening from how wet it is. your knees tremble around your panties—they haven’t drooped down to your ankles yet. “your cunt’s dripping because of mark?”

“yeah,” you croak. he lands a slap right against your bare cunt and you fail to conceal the (borderline pornographic) moan that escapes your mouth. 

“face me.” you rush to do it—the thought of getting fucked is enough to make you dizzy. you spin, nearly tripping from the underwear bunched up around your ankles (now.) “eager, are we?”

“hyuck,” you whine.

“i’m just joking, angel.” he unbuttons his pants and tugs his cock out, almost fully hard. fuck, it’s big. your hands itch to wrap around it, mouth near salivating. he strokes it with one hand, using the other to stroke your thigh.

“please,” you beg. “need to feel you.”

“need to feel you,” he mocks. “christ, where’d all your fight go, princess? when’d you decide to become good for me, huh? get over here.” 

you kick your panties off and climb onto his lap, hovering above his cock. his grip on your hips stops you from lowering any more. you whine and grumble but he doesn’t let up, sliding a hand to roughly tug your sweater up. “shut up,” he says.

“fuck me,” you respond.

“i don’t fuck brats. stay still.” your movements cease a little, and you wait, antsy. he grips your waist tight and slowly lets you sink onto his cock.

“ah,” you moan. “ah.” you writhe, hands gripping his shoulders to somehow redirect the burn of being stretched out.

“stay,” he grits out, “fucking still. and take this cock. like you said you wanted to.”

“i’m taking it,” you whine. it feels so good and it’s so much of it, tears welling up behind your tightly hut eyes. “i’m trying, hyuckie, fuck.”

“take it better. s’all you’re good for, hmm? cockslut.” you whine aloud, the senses getting to you, bombarding you like a freight train at full speed. you can only feel donghyuck, his hands, the burn of being stretched sizzling into a pleasure that sits well in your stomach. 

“fuck, i—hyuckie, it’s—i can feel in in my, ah, in my stomach.”

his hand comes up to wrap around your neck and you can feel yourself clench around him, growing wetter by the second. he thrusts up into you and you cry out. he’s going so fast. “this is what you wanted. to have this cunt stuffed by a nice fat cock. huh? answer me.”

“yes,” you babble, but it’s muffled and strained. “i wanted this. wanted your cock.”

“but your big mouth spoke up and suddenly you wanted mark’s? what, one isn’t enough for a slut like you?”

“i’m sorry,” you whine. “‘m sorry i said that. i—i didn’t mean it, hyuck.”

“i don’t care,” he mumbles, grinding upwards and his cock is reaching you so deep you can see stars. “you still said it.”

his hand drops down to rub against your clit and you seize, moans tapering off into whimpers. “ah! fuck, hyuck! i want to come, i—” you try to focus on one thing, but it’s all too much. “can i come? please, hyuck, please.”

“yeah, baby, come for me. thaaat’s it,” he urges when you let loose, finishing all over his cock. “getting hyuckie’s dick all wet. budge up, angel. i’m gonna come, shit.”

“inside,” you beg tiredly, leaning forward. his lips press against your neck, covered in a sheen of sweat. “want your cum in me.”

he curses against your throat and thrusts once, twice, before spilling inside you. “ah,” he moans. “fuck, so tight for me, princess.” the feeling has you shivering all over again and you press a kiss to his jaw. you feel him smile.

“you were so good. did everything so well.” you nod along to his encouragement, exhausted.

you pull back and lean forward, foreheads pressing together. his makeup is half off, eye glitter ruined. you chuckle. “i want a shower.”

“when we’re home, sweetheart,” he muses. “you really were so perfect. so pretty.”

you open your mouth to respond but the door rattles in a noisy knock. “hey, nymphos,” mark hollers from the other side, so loud it’s barely muffled. “when you’re done with your fuckfest, the pizza you ordered is here and everyone is sharing it.”

donghyuck turns to you. “you ordered a pizza to a concert venue?”

“sue me,” you mumble, but he’s kissing you before you finish your sentence.

“my dream girl.”

–

[upsidedownwithsteve]

The Fourth Day Of Christmas

Eddie Munson x fem!reader [0.7K]

It started innocently enough, with a small sprig of mistletoe, hung by Nancy over the basement door. The kids all squealed at it, shrieked and ducked underneath it so they could trample down the stairs to where the movies and popcorn sat waiting.

Jonathan gave Nancy a short, sweet kiss before he let her walk down first, blankets and extra pillows balanced between them. Even Robin allowed Steve to fall into the festive tradition, rolling her eyes fondly as she stood under the doorway. Steve grinned and smacked a noisy kiss to his friend’s cheek, poked her in the ribs when she huffed but both of them were grinning when they disappeared into the basement too.

That just left you and a boy you had an awful crush on, the kind that made you feel like a kid again, too warm and too nervous,that stomach tumbling, fingers twisted in the front of your shirt, heart hammering under your bones kinda crush. The Christmas lights that were tangled around the bannister lit the place up in jewel tones, the tiny bulbs flickering on and off to a beat no one else heard and they made Eddie Munson look prettier than ever.

He was staring at you, not rudely, just in that way that he did. Big, brown eyes wide and frozen, unblinking as he tried to process what he was supposed to do next.

Maybe it was the fact you’d been left alone with him for once, maybe it was the pretty lights, turning Eddie into shades of blue, green and fuschia. Maybe it was the mulled wine from the market that still warmed your cheeks and tummy.

Maybe it was ‘cause it was Christmas. Maybe you were just growing tired of waiting.

You moved into Eddie with a little shyness, the majority of it hidden underneath the wine and impatience, anticipation and adrenaline. You clutched at his shoulders and pushed yourself on your toes to allow yourself to reach him, face close to his, his curls brushing your cheeks.

He was smoke and spice, cinnamon and sugar from the market churros, leftover cologne washed away with the nip of the cold air. He was a little tense under your touch.

But you moved a little slower, kissed him soft and sweet with your lips pressed to his cheek, just barely catching the corner of his mouth. You felt his hitch of breath, his sigh, tasted it, all sticky sugar and hopeful.

When you pulled back, your feet back on the ground, Eddie’s eyes were a little droopy, all pretty and jaw slack with surprise. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone when he took your hand and tugged, didn’t tell anyone you were leaving - but the back door to the Wheeler’s house slammed behind you both and neither of you made it further than the back of Eddie’s van.

It was easy to get lost in him, everything touch and kiss new and full of surprises. Everything was soft like the boy, achingly tender with a hint of desperation, each slide of his calloused palms telling you ‘I’ve been waiting for this,’ each gasping press of his lips to yours a ‘why haven’t we been doing this?’

For someone who had been so shy for so long, giving you nothing but longing looks and yearning, Eddie was more than happy to drag you onto his lap, his back pressed to the cold wall of the van. But everywhere else was warm, where you were against him, small hands sneaking below the collar of his old, maroon sweater.

Your fingers traced the inked lines you couldn’t see but knew were there, moaning softly when Eddie’s tongue licked over your bottom lip, asking for permission for more. You gave him it, whining high when he groaned and bucked his hips up into you.

He tasted like wine and spices, smoke and something really sweet, like candy, sugary and addicting.

And if you both stopped panting for long enough, if you both stopped shifting and grabbing at the other for long enough, you would’ve heard the start of the movie from the basement window, the hoots and hollers about how mistletoe is better than cheap beer and some Marvin Gaye.

[capriddle]

Black cousins ​​perfect gifts:

- Bellatrix= jewels with red, black, purple or green stones/ daggers/ leather corsets/ velvet dresses/ dragon hide gloves/a night with Voldemort😏 ;

- Andromeda = flowers / boots / an outing together (in general she is a simple girl with few pretensions);

- Narcissa= pearls/ diamonds/ furs/ silk or velvet dresses/ gold jewelry/ a house elf;

- Sirius= leather jacket/ motorcycle boots/ fingerless gloves/ rock concert ticket/ dog collar;

- Regulus = new broom, bottle green coat / trip out of town to relax / Felix Felicis so as not to die in the cave with the horcrux

Bonus:

- Lord Voldemort= new silk robe/ books (possibly dark magic)/ tea set/ new personalized diary:

- Ted Tonks = wool sweater / pest control manual for the gnome garden / forged certificate on the state of blood;

- Lucius = peacock feather for writing / new walking stick / Malfoy signet ring / bottle of balm

Would you add anything? I hope you had fun... and that I wasn't too naughty😜

[nootdraws]

Redesigning my osmp!Ranboo outfit from 2021

I'd love to get input on these designs, so I'm polling to see which outfit people like the most, but also feel free to let me know if you'd like to see anything added, changed, etc.

Original outfit, notes, first draft and general behind-the scenes shit below cut.

Original outfit that I'm redesigning.

Design notes and initial sketches for tubbo and ranboo's updated looks.

Extra design notes:

The y2k outfit has 'angel' written in enchantment table on the t-shirt

The y2k outfit also has The Particles hanging off the belt chain thing

I opted for the Weird Overly Slender look for osmp!ranboo's body instead of the bodytype I've used in other drawings of them, because that design has the legs that widen out into the big paws, which, while cute, kinda made the leg warmers and flared jeans sorta underwhelming.

Ranboo’s body was based on a ball-jointed doll (largely because Moonlight Jewel’s Monster High redesign series got me in the mood to think about redesigning the actual Look of a past character, as opposed to just redrawing them).

The triangle necklace on the Fancy Dress design is a nod to the shape of the shirt collar in the original outfit, and the silver choker is a nod to the thick band of the sweater neckline in the original design.

All outfits have a ‘v’ shape as a reference to the shirt collar.

All outfits have either a skirt or flared trousers, so as to mimic the skirt in the original outfit.

[fiftymilehighclub]

It's here! And to the surprise of no one, it's for toddlers! I've had this idea in my head for months and it took me nearly as long to get all the assets and planning in order to accomplish it, but I'm so pleased to provide this little pack of treats for you all! And no, you don't have to ring any doorbells, you can get it right now via SFS! (Patreon coming soon!)

Credit for the meshes go to their respective creators: @deelitefulsimmer‘s toddler leggings, @powluna‘s Robin sweater, @casteru’s collared sweater dress, @onyxsims‘ Logan onesie and deetron-sims’ Apple onesie & Lil’ Poof dress (deactivated, available via @plumbobteasociety) + one pair of Basegame EA leggingg. You won’t need meshes for most items thanks to generous TOUs or creator inactivity, but you will need the Logan Onesie (patterned) mesh.

🎃🦇🕸️Click for your Treats!🍬🍭🍫

(Alt SFS link; will add Drive if traffic gets too bad)

Extra cc credits: @an0nymousghost (hair), @zurkdesign & @saurusness (hats), @casteru, @sims4nexus, @dissiasims & @voldesimsx (shoes), @sims4nexus (socks), storylegacysims (boys’ pants, deactivated tumblr, available via her website), and detail colors for patterned swatches from palettes by @thejewlbox (jewl refined), @chimaerae (eezo shot jewels) & @elisabettasims (lisa frank)

[thevagabondexpress]

Can't believe I've never asked you for them, but could I please have some Christopher headcanon 🤲🏻

Okay. Christopher headcanons. Go.

A) He hates ties. He feels like the kind of person who'd just. Hate ties. And also collars because of the way collars were starched back then. It's too restrictive, and something scratches every time he turns his head. So whenever he can he wears sweaters (which were just barely coming into fashion at the time) to avoid that, and if he can't then he wears bow ties because at the very least those don't pose an occupational hazard if they come untucked from your shirt/waistcoat.

B) He sets stuff on fire on purpose more often than you'd think. Specifically he burns old paper that he knows for sure he's never going to need again (grocery receipts once the taxes have been done and notes telling his mum he'll be late for lunch and stuff like that) and clothes he's irreparably ruined. It's an efficient method of disposal, it serves a practical purpose in keeping the laboratory warm, and depending on what it was that ruined the shirt he's burning, it might turn the fire blue or green. Matthew keeps a hawk's eye on this practice to make sure Christopher doesn't set fire to anything anyone is actually going to care about, but Kit doesn't have any intentions to.

C) He's also not, actually, a shit cook. I see this a lot in fanfics but I actually think he'd be reasonably good at it. Baking is an edible form of chemistry, and I think he'd enjoy stir fry because pop! sizzle! spatter! There's plenty of appeal there for someone who's not afraid of explosions. However he's not really into cooking for other people (he already doesn't like parties that much, the idea of entertaining is a huge no) so nobody will probably ever know this unless they're actively living with him.

D) He seems to be well known and well loved at the Shadow Market. While he obviously interacts with that world differently from the way Anna or Matthew do, I think Christopher also thrives in the Downworld spaces he visits. He's not threatening, he doesn't have his nose in the air, but he's also not scared of these people, he doesn't get nervous being in a room full of werewolves. He's just a guy who pays well for mushrooms and maybe he's not going to remember your name but for some reason he'll remember that your little brother sprained his wrist doing something stupid last week and probably ask after him.

E) Speaking of memory, I think his works a lot like mine does. The things neurotypical people think are important, like names and deadlines and grocery lists, just get lost in the ether. But if it's a weird little detail? Oh, he'll remember it to the end of time. Does he remember your name? No. Does he remember what medals your grandfather earned when he served in the war? Yes. Does he remember that he was supposed to buy celery? No. Does he know eight common names for celery as well as the scientific one? Yes. Stuff like that. At first you think he never remembers anything. Then you begin to think he never forgets anything. Come to find out, both are equally true, at the same time.

F) He grinds his own glasses lenses. He employs a jeweller at the Shadow Market to make the frames, but he makes the lenses himself and adjusts their strength on his own. While he needs the glasses to see they also can be really annoying in some circumstances, especially battle, so he's spent years developing glue that he can use to keep them on his head in a fight (and solution to safely dissolve the glue later), and shatterproof lenses, and more effective cleaning solution, and even a primitive antifogger.

G) Personally I headcanon him as having both autism and ADHD and one of my reasons for the autism headcanon is I think he's a hyposensitive/low-pain autistic. He tolerates cuts and burns to a far greater extent than other people would. While he'd never hurt himself on purpose (in fact, if you ever brought up the idea, he'd probably look at you like you'd suggested he was an elephant), he'll take, say, a pretty good cut to the shoulder from an exploding beaker, and only realize he's bleeding when he goes to see why his shirt feels wet. He's the kind of person who could get an absolutely massive full-color tattoo and it'd just feel like little scratches. What he would want a tattoo of I don't know though, I don't think I could see him with one.

H) This is a lot less lighthearted than stuff previous, but I'm going to dig into that "if he lived" hypothetical again. Personally I think, once he woke up from the coma/came back from the dead/what have you, I think he would've been disappointed and maybe a little annoyed with Grace about the fire messages. She credits the first one as "invented by Christopher Lightwood and sent by Grace Blackthorn" but I think in his eyes, while she used his research, Grace was the one to complete the invention and she ought to take equal credit for it. I don't think he'd ever really understand what she was trying to do there with saying only that she sent them. As you've probably noticed, while I like both of these characters a lot, I don't need them to have a completely tragedy-free story and this is one of those pieces of how I think it would realistically have panned out.

[squeiky]

Go tired of seeing "old hedgehog" designs of sonic and shadow with them just having greyed out quills and decided to do something about it

So yeah qpr sonadow (yeah shadow is 50+ fucking finally. Im considering giving him a cane. An asthetic or an actual one idk. Maybe both?)

Sonic grew his quills out (wanted a kind of longhair rockstar kinda hair thing idk if i achiebed i though. Also still unsure on what he'd wear so i just slapped on his sa2 beach costume and added sandals (and possibly socks).

(Oh and there a scar from the Mephiles blast on his stomach- as well as top surgery scars because of course he had top surgery its sonic)

(Oh and also the "old lady swagger" sonic is just him crossdessing/going lady mode because he always rocks the look )

Shadow styled/shortend his quills and i put him in a nice black collared sweater. He wears glasses because my guy has eye problems

(Btw. Im horrible at telling ppls ages so if they dont feel old then idk what to tell you guys i have no idea what aging is at this point)

Then, instead of simply making old yaoi i ended up getting obbessed (and happy) and started making everyone old

So next up was amy and Blaze. (Silver is here too)

I think theyre a little bit on the younger side of the old yaoi? I did consider the fact that some people age differently (some look older whilst others look younger) so Amy and Silver got the more "youthful-ish" complexion whilst Blaze and Espio got the more older one.

Thoughhh im still working on their design. I can always make older old lady Amy (now that i think about it i should 100% make Amy a granny looking buff woman because i feel like thats beautiful)

Either way amy and Blaze kept their uh.. "hair" short. Amy still wears supergirly clothes and Blaze wears more masculine type clothes nothing else.

Next is espilver

You cant sue me for making Silver a short king menace to society.

Not really much on design so far other than Silver is way more plump (pearshaped) now because life got better, and Espio is taller because what is he if not a tree?

Ask them how they met? It was at bowling. Why bowling? Its because thats less weird then "was investigating the multiple crimes husbando commited and ended up getting said yet-to-be husbando arrested, but after he got out we totally fucked"

Yeah

Oh, and because i couldnt choose, Espio is trans AND intersex! Yeah!

Also Amy is silvers ex (Silver has like.. 2 exes... Possibly more?)

And then theres everyone else who arent a "ship" persay:

So i call this the moreso young adult group with Tails, Charmy, Ray and Cream.

Tails (in college) and Charmy (not in college) obviously hang out and play videogames.

Cream, because when she was little she didnt get invited to fight deadlt monsters, grew up, and decided shes going to fight deadlt monsters. So i tried to make her a cool suit but idk.. it needs reworking cause the whole "secret agent" vibe works! But not the way i like.

Rouge is forever foxynand will continue to be the most attractive woman on planet earth no matter what age. Shes also still a meance to socitey and we will forever love the jewel thief (old) woman.

Knuckles doesnt cut his quills so those shits are LONG hes also old as well but idk what he'd wear

And yes Metal (also Chaos) is here too. Metal is a bit rusty (literally) but overall well kept and fancy. I think eggman would be dead by now, so i gave it a crown on its ears to symbolize how it took over i guess.

OKAY SHIPKIDS:

Blaze x Amy ( bio kid): Flare (was thinking "Spark" because of the love idea but idk yet)

Espio x Silver (bio-kid): Greybell

And then heres the fun part:

So Sonic and Shadow dont function like the others here, in that- while saving the world and whatnot, every so often they'd either find a kid following them (similarly to Amy and Tails back in the days) or save a kid during their whole adventure.

The first time this happened was just Luca (a black jaguar) who followed Sonic during one his little solo adventures and Sonic was like "do you have parents i can take u back too" and she was like "nah" so of course, after seriously looking for her parents through ppl with database accesses like tails and rouge, he was like "u wanna stay with me?" And Luca was like "YEAH!"

And then Sonic called Shadow like "Shadow do u want kids" and which he replied "what?" And then suddenly they adopted Luca. This is how it began.

Eventually, as one grew up, theyd find another, and then another and then well now they have like 11 kids in total.

Now, after ALL of this, they took a break and after that years worth of a break were like "wanna make a kid? Like for the challenge of having to that from scratch"

And sonic was like "what?"

So they hit up the labs and made a bio kid who is 2 months old and is the most hectic fucking thing theyve ever had to deal with so thanks for the prior 10 experinces (alas they do not compare to the mega menace)

[corvussei]

Not to merge two of my interests as I always do, but

I feel like when it comes to alt fashion, soft Matthew bounces between that very blurry sweet/classic line in lolita, but also does a lot of mori. He'd look cute in kogal too tho tbh <3 (I think when I make Matthew more tough or more masc etc he would fit more into something in the realm of goth-punk)

Alfred I see much more in bright ass colors like Decora and white/silver based cyber looks or uchuu styles.... they'd be so cute on him. But he can just as easily fit into vintage sort of "preppy" styles. Yknow, the collared shirt under the polo sweater or with the sleeves pushed up and a nice watch and some oxfords or derby shoes. That kinda thing.

And Arthur of course in egl in general!! Classic lolita or aristo/ouji styles would all fit him. Or mori as well ngl, the natural muted colors and jewel tones are good for him.

[scavengerssuccotash]

What are things like between Liho and Lucky?

Awww the pets! How could I forget about the pets!! Such cuties!

Liho is a cats cat. She’s likes her own space and has reserved the top of the fridge as her own spot. She’s absolutely spoiled rotten, thanks to Natasha! (The jeweled encrusted collar was a quick purchase and her wet cat food is on the high end. Despite Natasha never once wanting to own an animal she took to being a Cat mom like a fish to water. And yes she does own a cat sweater and if you tell anyone about it you’re dead!)

Lucky is in Clint’s personal opinion the best dog in the entire world. What he lacks with his relationship with Liho Lucky provides! (Clint and Liho have a comfortable relationship but she never took to Clint the way she took to Natasha. Biscuits as soon as Clint set her down on Nat’s lap and purring like a jet engine.)

Together of course Lucky and Liho are perfectly fine with owning their respective parts of the apartment; Liho owns the kitchen (much to the dismay of Clint), the back of the couch, and the window perch that overlook the fire escape outside the living room windows, Lucky owns the bathroom, the floor in front of the couch, a spot by the front door when Clint’s away and of course Clint and Nat’s queen sized bed (much to the supreme frustration of Nat. She’s woken up way too many times nose to snout!)

The occasional species spat happens when Lucky gets overly excited to play with his sister. This usually leads to a frantic dash to her spot on top of the fridge and a toppled plant, and a stern Lucky! by Clint. Overall though they get along well. Clint has exactly five pictures in his phone of the two of them cuddled up on the couch together. They use them to make their annual Merry Christmas cards!

[diamondcrownacademy]

DCA Info Part 1: Early Concept

The Original Logo

The original logo appeared to have a pink fleur-de-lis in the center. On the top of the heart rests a golden crown with heart and swirl detailing on it. On both sides of logo are a pair of feathered wings, with the left side being purple and the right side being an off-white color.

Character Designs: Evonie and Ella

Evonie's original design didn't appear to change much from her current design. There were a few differences.

🍎 Evonie's Early Design

- Evonie's hair was more black without the royal blue tint and appeared to be less wavy.

- The sleeves are a bit less transparent and feature golden swirls, although the floral pattern reminds.

- The bottom of her top appeared to have triangular hems on each side.

Much like Evonie, Ella's original design didn't appear to change much from her current design either. But much like Evonie, there are a few differences.

👠 Ella's Early Design

- Ella's hair appeared to be more of a dusty off-red color and her hair originally reached to her upper shoulders.

- The jewel on both her tiara and brooch are purple in color. This was because Phoenix didn't think much about what to do with the gems until she decided to change them to accommodate to the original princess (In this case, Cinderella).

- Ella's skirt, despite having the same argyle patterning as her current skirt appears to be a ruffled one.

Character Designs: Allison and Briar

Allison's original design appeared to be very different from her current design.

🐰 Allison's Early Design

- Much like Ella, Allison's hair in her original design appeared to be an off-red color, before it was changed to be reddish-pink.

- Allison's original outfit was very different from her current one. Her sailor top was blue in color, with the center part having an argyle pattern, with hearts, spades, clovers and diamonds. The shirt also has red jewel buttons on it. The collar also has the same pattern, with the addition of a dark teal outline. The collar flap appears to be made of lace, with heart detailing at the edge. The scarf tied to the sailor top is black in color.

- The two layered skirt is somewhat similar to the current design, with the exception of the color palette. The top layer is a solid black while the bottom layer is navy blue with a line pattern.

- Allison's original headband is very different from the current one. The headband is black in color with a crown in the center. On the side of the headband are four gold bows, each with a card suit charm decorated onto it. The charms are in this order from top to bottom: red heart, blue spade, green clover and yellow diamond.

- Allison's collar, while the same as the current design was black in the original design.

Briar's original design while similar to her current one, the original design did have some differences.

🌹 Briar's Early Design

- The rose hair accessory appeared to have more of a pastel color palette.

- The blue gem on Briar's tiara looked darker.

- Her turtleneck sweater remains pink, but the collar part in the original design was light blue with a rose pattern.

- The rose in the center of the golden ribbon on Briar's left shoulder was red in the original design, instead of fuchsia.

- The jewel buttons were pink instead of light blue.

- Her original skirt was light blue in color and had the same rose pattern as the collar section of her turtleneck sweater.

- Briar additionally had red rose earrings in her original design. But they were removed because according to Phoenix, the rose earrings would take too long to draw each time Briar would have to be illustrated and they were cut to minimize Briar's drawing time.

Early Bios and Original Dorm Crests

(Note: The katakana for Evonie's given name is incorrectly spelled as "Evonia")

The original Pommeneige dorm crest featured a golden mirror with golden swirls. The interior of the mirror features colors that make it resemble a stained glass window and in the center of the mirror is a red apple.

In her original profile, Evonie is described as a woman who's willing to help others and is known for her vocal range and charisma. She is described as liking apple based desserts and clean environments, though she dislikes messy places and tricks (likely pranks).

(Note: Ella's tiara and brooch gems were still purple in the original profile, this was before they were changed to be white)

The original Glastanzerin dorm crest originally depicted a glass slipper on a purple flower shaped pedestal.

In her original profile, Ella is described as an airheaded crybaby who's excels at dancing and is popular with students for her tailoring skills. She is described as liking pumpkin based recipes, sewing and miniature figurines, though she dislikes rabid animals and doing too much housework.

(Note: Futterwacken's original dorm crest was recycled for the current crest, the only difference is the color palettes)

The original Futterwacken dorm crest was depicted as being a clock with a golden outline with Roman numerals and the inter part of the clock featured two shades of green. Probably the most notable part of the crest is the rabbit head in the center.

In her original profile, Allison is described as a girl who enjoys throwing parties and is very curious about everything. She wishes to explore anything that catches her interest. Allison is described as liking parties, mysteries and rabbits while having a disliking for being chased, sharp objects and being late.

The original Rosadormienti dorm crest had three roses (blue on the left, red in the middle and green on the right) above what appeared to be Princess Aurora's crown.

In her original profile, Briar is described having powerful magic that tries her out if she uses it to often, she is also described as being able to sleep on any surface no matter how hard or soft it is. Briar is described as liking plushies, sleeping and fairies while having a disliking for sharp objects, lizards and isolation.

[therealnightcity]

Day, informal and armor for both hiro and avi!

Character asks for @chevvy-yates 🥰❤️

Day: What does your OC wear on a normal day? Why do they default to those clothes? Do they wear similar things, or do they change it up?

Hiro: Hiro's outfits vary. He has an incredibly extensive wardrobe, and a lot of it doesn't get worn as often as it should. Comfort is something he thinks about but it's often trumped by what looks good over how practical something is, and good luck getting him to dress for the weather. If he has a cute look that would be ruined by a jacket he'll freeze just to prove a point, and then end up pilfering someone's jacket later. He likes to shop in his spare time, and doesn't have a specific style he's set on--there ends up being a lot of black in his wardrobe, not because he dislikes color but because it's easy to pair with stuff. On a normal day he usually dresses in layers, a hoodie or a jacket over a tanktop, depending on the mood, and a pair of jeans or leathers, and sneakers/boots. He doesn't wear a lot of jewlery, and sticks to necklaces and his piercings.

Hiro's personal style is influenced by street fashion and clubwear, and this is still present in his everyday looks, even if they're more subdued than something he'd wear out for the night. There's a sense of easiness to them, he might take a while to get ready but seldom appears fussy, a lot of effort goes into looking like he's just tossed something on. Whatever it is, he always wears it with confidence. ---

Avi: Avi seldom dresses down. He favors crisp, expensive fabrics and has an well-trained eye for luxury. Although a good deal of his wardrobe is black, practical particularly in regards to his work clothing, there is some color as well. He prefers darker jewel tones, a hint of deep purple, or navy, evergreen and wine-red. He's not loud and in your face with his statements but classical and elegant, and sometimes understated. His working clothing consists of tactical gear, or suits, depending on the day and what's required of him.

How he presents himself is another thing he can control, and a standard he sets for himself. He might not be the flashiest, most eye-catching person in the room, but he prefers to let himself do the talking, and not what he's wearing. His clothing looks less worn-in than Hiro's, even if it's a favorite piece of his--he tends to treat it more as something disposable, with the occasional exception. He's a frequent customer at Jinguji, and is quite particular but he tips well, and is polite, even if not incredibly warm.

Informal: What's your OC's lazy-day look? How do they like to dress when they're winding down?

Hiro: Hiro's lazy day looks are all about comfort but not looking completely messy--he likes being able to run to the store, or go on errands if necessary, and not worry about one of his fixers catching him in pajamas. He leans towards comfortable hoodies or sweaters, usually slightly oversized or hanging off his shoulders, and a pair of shorts, or one of his many t shirts, and joggers, with a funky pair of sneakers. Sometimes a lazy day look might be a long, drapey cardigan and skinny jeans, it all depends on if he's going out of the house or not. If he's just going to be hanging around the house, he doesn't bother with his usual bun and just wears his hair long and loose, or back in a messy ponytail. ---

Avi: Dressing down isn't something Avi knows how to do. A 'lazy day' for him means less uptight but no less pressed. He might forgo the suit for a white collared shirt, and slacks, or a tasteful sweater. If it's hot and he's feeling daring he'll wear the sleeves rolled up. The most notable change is in the fabrics, he leans towards softer knits, and dresses more creatively, as opposed to his usual uniform. His hair will be a little more rumpled, and he'll skip the tie, even if it's still a designer sweater and wool trousers. If he's wearing a collared shirt, he'll have a couple buttons undone, not as many as Hiro would (who would rather die than wear a tie), but enough to show off a little skin.

Armor: What kind of armor does your OC wear? Is it well kept? Bonus: where does it come from? Is there a story behind it?

Hiro: Even on gigs where it would make sense to wear armor Hiro prefers to go without. It slows him down, and most of his cybernetics are internal anyway. With subdermal plating, reinforced tendons and titanium bones he's already fairly armored, and able to throw himself into the fray the way he likes. With his gorilla arms and berserk cyberdeck running in swinging is a fairly sound tactic, and has worked for him thus far. (His body in-game is a solid 20, along with reflexes, and he has the perks that heal him to 100% outside combat, so a couple bullets are nothing) ---

Avi: Although he has extensive, top of the line cyberware, Avi is less disdainful for tactical gear, and frequently employs it when he's working. The additional weight doesn't slow him down, and is almost comforting, after working for Arasaka and growing accustomed to the sensation of it. He is also self-aware enough to realize he cuts an impressive figure in it, and relishes this. His focus is equal points reflexes and stealth, and it's important that any armor is noiseless, and doesn't hinder movement. His preferences lean towards lighter and sleeker, both from a practical standpoint and an aesthetic one.