#plus some messy colors
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shiningbean · 26 days ago
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every Agatha look is my favourite look
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possiblyfunny · 3 months ago
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I forgot how to make posts, but don’t worry guys, I’m still alive-
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Ghostly Assistance
Heyyy! I finally drew Leaf! (Plus a slight Aster redesign-) This took way too long, and I apologize for the delay and the overall messiness. She had been sitting in my drawing program as a sketch for two months 😅 but with the Flashbacks up starting in Missing Numbers, I finally got the will to finish it!
Leaf Aoyama belongs to @creatively-cosmic. They have a blog called @themissingnumbers, which you should check out, like—right now.
[Sketch + Extras below the cut!]
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Here’s the cover of the book, if you wanted that- (I know it’s crap but I’m tired)
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[And for those who are curious, some notes about the art:
-The book is Aster’s. He’s read the book cover to cover well over 25 times. It’s his favorite book on flowers, but he’s more than happy to lend it to someone who wants to learn about flora.
-The content of the art (because there was intended to be a background that got scrapped-) is that Aster was showing Leaf around his secret garden deep in the woods, guiding her so that she wouldn’t get lost and showing her the different flowers and such. (That’s why she has the book-)
-You know how in some video games, you can press a button and whatever special companion you have will show up to give you a hint? (Ex: Navi, Fi, Rotom, Olivia, etc) That’s what Aster is doing right now. Whenever Leaf had a question—he had the answers.
-And if you’re wondering—Yes. Aster did make her a flower crown afterwards. And Yes, he thinks she looks very beautiful with flowers in her hair.]
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moe-broey · 1 month ago
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Like how are you gonna be romance-repulsed while essentially functionally being a self-shipper. This IS a trick question but also it is undeniably an unfathomably stupid position to be in. And Yet
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eternal-reverie · 7 months ago
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got the posting anxiety bad tonight
#click clack#ok a peak into my thought process and anxiety here we go#ok so the art is almost done and up to standard I would post onto my art blog#BUT for some reason the thought of posting art of my ocs there scares me#because even tho it’s my art blog in my mind it’s the equivalent to a art gallery that demands being detached????? from the art#like once I share it there it’s no longer ‘mine’ but to the public#and my ocs (plus the stories that go with them) are like the closest to my heart and relinquishing them feels like a lot#a part of my imagination that I spent so much time with developing over the years to be placed up for judgement…#so then the solution could be to put it here on my personal! the online space cozy enough and filled with other posts that could easily bury#the original posts I put here#but there goes my other dilemma. i don’t want them too associated with my personal for if one day i do muster up something for publication#my big fear is that ppl will find this space and go thru everything. the fear of being perceived and judged 😵‍💫#all the hypotheticals and anxiety for something that may not even happen#dumb mind problems my head made up 🙄#anyway writing it out helped lol I’m posting it to my art blog I decided 👍#I have to work on getting that blog to be comfortable space to post… i should lower that silly self imposed standard I set for myself#and be whatever about ppl being aware of my online presences#maybe… [grinding my teeth] I should post my messy sketches onto my art blog…#I should take my friends suggestion and make a website to feature my ocs…🤔#idk my only other solution that doesn’t feel viable to mitigate the anxiety is to slowly introduce my ocs in the background of setting art#just a slow drip until they are in the forefront#bleghhh whatever much ado about nothing it’s like I never posted my ocs ever when I have indeed posted them before on both places ( º_º )#I’m realizing it happens too when I post too much fanart in a row… I have curator disease??? 🫨#or something I used to be very particular about what order I reblog stuff like it used to be by color and content balanced out#I still do to a lesser degree… but it used to be pretty bad#post order compulsion????#the fear of being abrupt and incohesive in between posts…#if you read this far thanks you can now see how much this consumes me 🙃
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mars-ipan · 2 months ago
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idk what to do with my next haircut :(((
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motherforthefamicom · 4 months ago
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managed to make two entire lps customs today =)
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kerosene-saint · 4 months ago
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me when I accidentally spend 4 hours on a fairly mediocre art piece because I am over come with the feeling to better my art style
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rafesproperty · 4 months ago
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Rafe Cameron x Reader GF <3
Rafe with a girlfriend that loves to read. He doesn’t get it. Really. But he’d do anything to make his girl happy. ❤️‍🩹
Just Rafe being disgustingly sweet and spoiling reader…
I wanna make a part 2 where he finds out about annotating cuz that scenario is just hillarious to me 😭 lmk if you want it!
» masterlist
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“Hey, baby,” Rafe mumbled as he walked into the kitchen, it was early in the morning and his voice was still rough, his hair messy and his eyes barely open as he reached for your coffee and took a sip. You were staying at Tannyhill for a while because his dad was on some family trip with Sarah and Rose.
You chuckled and reached for your coffee, snatching it from his hand. “Morning.”
He started to make coffee for himself as well, you’d normally admire his back in the white shirt he was wearing, but you were almost finished with your book so you kept reading, eyes glued to the page. Rafe noticed and looked over his shoulder at you. “Wheezie’s still sleeping?” His eyes trailed down to the table, one singular book laying there but a bunch of mini colorful papers and pens laying around it. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed there was no notebook tho. Weird.
“Mhm,” you gave a quick nod, clearly more focused on the text in your book than on him. “Made you some waffles.” You added and kept reading the page quickly. Suddenly you let out a gasp.
“What?” Rafe quickly turned around, his flight fight or fight mode on immediately. Then he let out a frustrated groan when he realised why you gasped and he leaned against the table, flexing his arms (not happy that you didn’t even look), and sneaking a glance at the page.
“Oh, my fucking God. I need to know the rest.” You let out a tortured moan and looked up at him, suddenly realising you were not alone and that your very much judgy boyfriend was staring at you. You felt your cheeks flush. “Sorry, um… it just… was intense is all.” You closed the book shut, avoiding eye contact with him.
Rafe grinned. “You’re so weird.” He mumbled and ran a hand through your hair. “So, so weird it actually makes you cute as fuck.” He whispered as he leaned down to you, you closed your eyes and purred softly at his touch. He smirked, satisfied that he finally got your attention.
You chuckled at his comment, looking up at him. You knew Rafe didn’t get it. He was very much reality-oriented and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to force him to read a book if his life depended on it. Yours maybe… but you’d probably die anyway. Plus there was no way he’d ever find the time in his schedule to read something. He was either taking care of business or spent all his free time with you and you only, and intended to keep it that way.
He went back to making coffee and you pulled out your phone, looking up the next book in the series you were currently reading. The thing is it was still a fresh release and everyone loved this series so it was sold out everywhere, hard to get and if a store had it they put an insane price on it, knowing some people would buy it anyway.
“30 fucking dollars for a paperback? Fucking assholes.” You slammed your phone down and Rafe turned around, giving you a look of genuine confusion.
“What’s wrong?” He had no idea what a paperback means, or how much books even cost. Thirty dollars sounded normal to him… cheap even.
“What’s wrong? Baby 30 bucks would be insane even for a hardcover.”
“A what?”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s fucking ridiculous. They put a big price on it because they know people want it and some people will buy it but I-“
“I’ll get it for you.” Rafe stopped your rant and sat down next to you with his coffee and the waffles you made earlier.
“What? No, Rafey, no. It’s so fucking expensive.”
He genuinely grinned at your statement. “Baby, it’s 30 bucks.” He rested his hand on your knee, drawing little circles with his thumb, trying to ease your mood. He was still sleepy, normally you’d admire how pretty he looked with his hair all messy and eyes puffy.
“No. That’s not the point. It’s too much for a book. Baby a paperback is usually around 10 dollars.”
“So?”
You groaned. Oh how you wanted to rant to someone about how stupid it was, but of course Rafe didn’t understand. Where was Wheezie when you needed her?
Rafe grabbed your phone and checked the location of the bookstore. You both ate your waffles and chatted about some other things for a while. He eventually got up. “Get dressed, we’ll go get it.”
“Rafey it’s really okay-“
“Shut upppp,” it was his turn to groan in annoyance now and you chuckled at his expression. “Wanna make you happy baby, I don’t give a fuck if it costs a thousand. Get dressed.”
There was no arguing with Rafe once he made up his mind. You were on his bike within a few minutes, holding on to him as he parked in front of the bookstore. He grabbed your waist as he led you inside, holding you close to him — it was a thing he did whenever you went to public together.
You immediately knew where to look for the book you wanted, but your eyes lingered on some new releases on your way over to the fantasy isle anyway, remembering you wanted some of them.
Rafe followed closely behind, texting Barry back on his phone about something.
There were two girls standing next to the fantasy isle and you heard them rant about how overpriced this specific book is and how unfair it is. You really couldn’t agree more. You reached for it and sighed. “Oh God,” you mumbled to yourself when you saw the price. Not thirty, but thirty fucking two.
“Right?!” One of the girls looked at you, obviously also pissed off. “I mean, how greedy can they get.” She ranted.
“Yeah I threw a tantrum when I saw how much it is this morning.” You laughed and she laughed as well, the other girl adding in her own complaining and you were chatting about it for a while, talking about the events of the first book in the series. Rafe was behind you for a while but he got annoyed with Barrys shit over the phone so he found a chair to sit on and let you talk to the girls.
“Right, um, I’ll get going.” You eventually said to the girls when you noticed Rafe was now just scrolling on his phone. You didn’t really wanna keep him waiting.
“Wait you’re actually buying it?!”
“Um,” you let out a nervous laugh, “yeah, well, no… my um, boyfriend’s getting it for me.” You admitted, you didn’t want to brag but you also didn’t want to say you’re getting it and take the credit for something he’s paying for.
“Oh wow, lucky.” One of the girls smiled, sneaking a glance at him. You could tell just from the look in her eyes that she found Rafe scary. Most people did.
“I’m jealous,” the other whispered, whether about your boyfriend or the book was not clear. You smiled and said your goodbye, and went over to Rafe who was now on his feet, leaning against the wall.
He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw you only came back with that one book. “Did you fucking read the whole thing already?”
“What do you mean?” You grinned, ignoring his grumpiness.
“I thought you were picking shit. What were you doing?”
“Oh no, I was chatting with some girls. Sorry. They also had a lot to say about the pricing.” You smiled at him apologetically.
“Well yeah, but go pick more books.” He said annoyed. He didn’t really mind waiting for you but he didn’t understand why you only grabbed one.
“No, baby, this one’s already overpriced as fuck I don’t wanna-“
“For Gods sake Y/N, we’re already here. Get more. Wanna spoil you baby.” He brushed his finger against your cheek and put a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at him and tried to hide your blush.
“Okay, alright. Can you—“
“Mhm,” he knew what you were asking immediately and grabbed the one you already had so you can go look at some more.
You were walking around the isles, checking out a bunch of books. You’d lie if you said you didn’t want almost every single one. As you were reading the back of some modern romance Rafe appeared behind you, he came closer to you and put one hand next to your head, leaning against you. You could feel his breath at the back of your neck and a shiver ran down your spine.
“Isn’t that just about sex?”
“Yeah,” you laughed, not noticing that the girls you were chatting to earlier were standing next to you and Rafe.
He seemed genuinely confused. “Why’d you read about it when we can do it?”
“Rafe,” you laughed again and turned around to face him, giving him a look, blushing when you noticed there were other people too.
“What? I’m serious. Bet I can make you feel better than some words on paper.” He brushed his hand against your back and you felt your whole body tense up… that is until you heard the girls next to you giggle.
“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled, embarassment evident in your face. But Rafe just smirked, always eager to make you flustered.
“Besides,” you added, putting the book back, “you’d be surprised what a few words on paper can do to you.”
He gave you a susprised look, “Seriously?”
“Yeah where do you think I learned all my tricks?” You said jokingly and he grinned as well.
“Dunno, you were pretty innocent before I corrupted your pretty mind.” He mumbled next to your ear and nibbled at the skin of your exposed neck, softly kissing a mark. His mark.
Rafe smirked when he noticed the way your body reacted by leaning closer to him, and reached over you to grab the book you placed back. “So we’re buying it?”
“No.”
“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow. You were obviously intrigued by it, he thought.
“It doesn’t sound that interesting,” obvious lie, “’m gonna look for something else.”
“Get something else and this as well?”
“No, Rafey, books can get-�� but he just rolled his eyes and held it next to the first book you picked. Already made up his mind.
You knew he’d just get it no matter what you said. “Wait, it’s a sequel, can you—“ You looked up, not only was this store overpriced as fuck but they obviously also had zero respect for small people.
“Hm, here,” he leaned even closer, brushing his lips against your ear, trapping you a little, your back pressed against the bookshelf. “Which one?” He teased you with a smirk, his fingers brushing your hair aside to make the marks he left there the other day visible, his breath brushing over them.
Then he got the book you pointed at, leaving you shivering just a bit more. “Needing me so bad for everything…” he murmured happily.
Rafe figured quickly that you’d act all humble the whole time. You always picked up a book, read the back, smiled at it… and put it back. Every. Damn. Time. And after an hour of him waiting you had the audacity to come to him with only two books. He didn’t say anything, just got up, grabbed them from your hands and made his way to the cashier.
“Hey, princess, hold this for me.” He handed you the four books as he wanted to reach into his pocket for his wallet on the way. You took the books without questioning him, and he quickly grabbed most of the books he noticed you were checking earlier. He also grabbed the better ones, the ones that were more expensive… hardbacks? That’s what you called it, right? So quickly you didn’t even really get the chance to protest.
“Rafe-“
“Shut it,” he growled and this was the first time today he didn’t say that in a joking manner.
So you did.
“Everything alright, sir?” The cashier asked. Rafe gave her a quick nod and noticed they had some snacks — mostly chocolates — there. So he grabbed a few and added that to the pile of books.
He waited for the cashier to finish her job when you suddenly realised something.
“Rafe, wait.” You mumbled and ran off. He didn’t really understand but you came back with one more book a second later. He didn’t mind at all. Tho it didn’t really seem like your style, compared to all the other books… this one was colorful and seemed like some rom-com high school bullshit, but he didn’t question you.
“Your total’s $273, sir…”
You felt your body freeze. “Rafe you don’t-“
But he already pulled out his card without blinking an eye. “Told you to shut it.” He whispered and grabbed the bags with your books and threw his free arm around you, leading you out of the store.
He let out a sigh when you both exited the store and you were afraid for a second that it was because it really was too expensive.
“You’re impossible, you know that?”
Fuck.
“The worst sugar baby ever.” He added and gave you a relaxed smile.
Oh… that’s what he meant. You felt relief as you smiled at him as well, laughing at his nickname for you.
“Thank you, baby.” You mumbled and wrapped your arms around his waist as you both made your way to his bike.
“Mhm, anything for you. Anytime.” He kissed the top of your head and you felt butterflies in your stomach.
Wheezie was already up when you both returned to Tannyhill. She was excited to see all the books you got so you sat down on a couch with her and showed her everything, telling her about each one. Rafe didn’t really care… plus all the fantasy terms started to give him a headache so he minded his own business, dealing with something on his phone again, occasionally resting his hand on your thigh.
“Oh yeah, this one’s for you. I knew you wanted it.”
That caught his attention. He looked up from his phone and saw Wheezies eyes sparkle as she flipped through the book you picked for her. He felt his heart warm up. You really were thinking of his little sister too… He’s so going you wife you up one day. Probably soon.
He sneaked his arm around your waist and squeezed you gently, thanking you.
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evieolo · 9 months ago
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Panty Thief
Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader
Contains: SMUT!!/ Male masturbation / Handjobs / Male!Receiving
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“Chris, can you check if my laundry’s done for me?” You call from behind your door, catching his footsteps in the hall. Chris sighs dramatically, his voice loud enough for you to hear, and stops at your door, pushing it open. “Why can’t you do it?” He proclaims, shooting a playful glare your way. He’s dressed in low-cut gray sweats and a plain black t-shirt, carrying a mix of shirts and hoodies, folded messily in his hand.
You stretch your arms out, feigning tiredness. “I don’t want to get up.” You yawn, draping your comforter more over your torso and immersing yourself further in your social media. Chris sighs, realizing since he has to do his laundry he has to get yours out of the washing machine. Begrudgingly, he heads to the laundry room, as if he wasn’t already on his way there.
The smell of fresh laundry fans Chris’ nose as he walks into the dull room, a boring room contradicting the rest of the house, with white walls—no decor, only a window with a drapy shade over it that, on sunny days, beams light into the room, the only exception of furniture being the washer-dryer.
Chris inhales, shamelessly breathing in the fumes of your coconut-scented detergent, a scent he’d grown happily accustomed to after your many years of friendship. In Chris’ mind, you had an excessive amount of clothes. You’re not a messy person if you subtract clothes from the mix; your room is always littered with your latest clothing hauls, mixed but in separate piles from your dirty laundry. When he’d gone down to the laundry room an hour ago your clothes were cycling through the wash; still now you now had one snug load to the side in a circular hamper. The hamper adjoined the running dryer which had a second batch of clothes in it.
He approaches the shaking dryer slowly—there are two minutes left in the cycle—he might as well stay in the room while he waits for yours to finish.
Chris absentmindedly picks up the detergent you use and out of boredom reads the many labels on the bottle, giving up when he reads too many ingredient words with over twenty letters in them; the bottle’s sticky at the top where Chris holds it, he doesn’t realize this until it's slipping out of his fingers. The detergent bottle falls from his hand and spills into the hamper of your clean clothing.
Chris curses silently and snatches the bottle off the haphazard mix of clothes. He sets the bottle atop the drier and inspects the pile, pulling the soiled short on top of the pile off, wincing at the damp stain. He presses a palm to the next shirt down, realizing detergent did seep past the first top. He lets out a dramatic sigh of frustration and pulls the shirt off the top of the pile—discarding it into his basket of dirty laundry, deciding he’ll wash it with his own clothes and return it to you afterward.
He peeks to the pile of your laundry now without your baggy T housing the rest of the apparel. An orange piece catches his attention. It’s his favorite color, plus, he’d never seen you wear this specific shade before. He’s curious.
Chris saunters back to your hamper and pulls the orange bottoms out of the basket. He flushes when he realizes the bottoms are not shorts. They’re panties, peachy orange with a navy frill along the hems.
The man practically freezes in place, the panties were innocently simple—nothing relatively showy but they were his favorite color. There had to be some meaning to that. Right?
Chris runs his wrist along the hem of your bottoms, meshing the fabric of them between his thumbs. The fabric is light and delicate, almost weightless to touch, running his fingers over the hem he feels the jagged texture, so thin it's almost translucent.
He imagines how they’d sit on your hips; flaunt the curve of your ass. The thought of this—of you, shifts the looseness of his pants and he feels a recognizable stiffness arise against the fabric of his boxers.
“Chris?”
You enter the room tauntingly and Chris mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath. He realized he’d look like a pervert in any situation so he quickly bunches your panties in his fist and pockets them.
Your eyes narrow as you realize he neglected your request and didn’t tell you that your laundry was done, “What have you been doing down here for the past ten minutes?” You ask skeptically.
Chris’ features flush red and he sucks his teeth, his mind blank of any witty remarks. He pauses for a second before speaking, “Wishing your laundry would disappear…Okay, but seriously, why do you have so many clothes?” He whines, alleviating the tension he’d created in his mind.
You laugh, opening the dryer that’d just finished its cycle with a ‘click’
“You’re just mad that I have style.” You rebuttal, a wide smile on your face.
“Mhm”
Chris swallows harshly, standing stiffly as he watches you bend down to spoon your clothes out of the dryer. His eyes focus on the curve of your ass, the way you teeter on your knees to reach the clothes in the very back. It’s not soon before he feels harsher tightening in his abdomen.
He mentally curses himself. Asking himself if he seriously got a boner from watching his best friend do laundry.
Chris makes a light grunting noise—his begrudging goodbye—before he leaves the room. You turn your head at the diminishing sound of footsteps. “Chris, I thought you were doing your laundry?” You press, curious as to why he’s leaving so soon.
Chris continues out of the room, only turning his head slightly to respond to you, “I-I’ll do it later.” He stammers, making his way up the stairs making a beeline to his bedroom.
When he reaches his room he’s flustered, his cheeks are red and you’re running through his mind. There are only two things he can think of: your ass and your panties.
Your panties that are in his pocket.
He pulls his fist out of his pocket and holds your undergarments again. The sight of the frill only turns him on further, making his hard-on tent his pants. Chris curses under his breath for the nth time before retreating to his bed, shooing away his self-accusations of him being a ‘pervert’ and deciding to do something about his boner.
He sits on his bed, scooting back against the headboard and shimmies his sweats down, pushing the band of his boxers down to reveal his hardened-cock.
Feathering a hand down to his base, he groans a sigh from the pressure his hand brings. He pumps his length upward, coaxing pre-cum from his angry tip, smearing the drops in liquid down his base as he pumps himself; picturing you as he does so.
He imagines you—bending down for him instead of a washing machine. How your hands would wrap around him, your small hands; small but oh so gentle. And fuck, those panties, he wished he could see them around your hips, how they would flaunt the curve of your ass perfectly. He’d push the cloth to the side and fuck you with them still on.
He palms your pocketed bottoms, pushing them against his cock and thrusting against the fabric, hips roiling into his hand as he moans your name.
“Fuck Y/N, fuck, yeah just like that.” He whimpers, rutting against his hand so desperately he doesn’t realize how his door creaks open.
“Chris, did you take…” you pause, unsure how to ask if he knows where your missing undergarments are, “Uhm - did you take something from my laundry bin?” You question shyly, too embarrassed to blatantly admit you can’t find your favorite panties. Your eyes are down, and you teeter on your heels, until you grow impatient with Chris’ lack of response and look at him.
Your eyes widen, and you yell out a loud “Fuck!”, meekly covering your eyes with your hands and turning away.
Chris then notices your presence, his jaw drops and his cheeks burn bright red. He tries to shuffle under his comforter, but it's to no avail; he’s sitting on top of it.
You continue to conceal your vision with your hands, only peeking through a small crack at his face until you realize where your panties are. Wet and bunched up in his hand. Your mouth falls slightly ajar in surprise, and you stop hindering your vision.
“Chris, were you jerking off to my underwear?” You ask wide-eyed.
Unsure of what to say, Chris simply nods out a quiet “yes.”
Chris stays silent. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows harshly. “Are you going to stand in my doorway like that for the rest of your life?”
You take this as an invitation to join him in his bed, sauntering to the bed’s foot, and kneeling yourself onto the mattress, crawling over his sprawled-out legs and leaving your hand dangerously close to his hard-on.
“Can I?” You hum, meeting his eyes. He nods eagerly, watching you intently. “If I had known you were this big I would’ve done this a long time ago,” you coo, feathering a hand down to his needy tip and running a thumb over in a circular motion. With this, Chris leans back and lets out an opened-mouth moan.
“Fuck Y/N,” He sighs, lazily running a hand through his hair as you start moving your hand down his shaft. Running your palm up and down and squeezing gently once you reach the tip.
“Wanna suck you off, baby.” You hum, pressing a kiss to his tip. Chris shivers at the contact, groaning at the sloppy peck, “Please.” He whines.
You puff your cheeks out, readying yourself for his size and kitten lick his tip before wrapping your lips around him, sinking your head down slightly to test the waters before speeding up a bit, filling the room with sounds of erotic spit and Chris’ loud groans.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Chris moans, knotting his hands in your hair and pushing your head down further every time you bob down. The sound of your lewd gagging nears Chris’ orgasm.
Looking at you sets him over the edge, the way your back arches towards him, to get easier access to him, how tears prod your waterline every time his dick hits your throat, the hums you let out as he knots your hair tighter and tighter.
His dick twitches in your mouth, signaling to you his upcoming release, and before you can get a breath through your nose, he's rutting his hips into you, pushing your head down to his base, breathing heavily, as his cum sloppily trickles into your mouth.
He holds your head down sternly as he comes down from his high, pushing you down against his base. When he releases his grip on your hair, you pull back, chest heaving as you gasp for air.
“Holy shit.” Chris mumbles, threading his fingers through his hair. You straighten your spine, positioning yourself back in a sitting position on your knees and meet eye level with Chris.
He smirks when you meet his eyes. Your face is red, and your throat is sore from the way his tip bruised your pharynx. Chris watches intently as you wipe his dripping cum off the corners of your mouth with the back of your wrist. “Where’d you learn how to suck dick like that?” He heaves, a playful undertone to his words.
“I dabble,” You smile, shrugging off his question as you give him a crooked smile.
Chris pauses for a second, opening and closing his mouth twice before he actually speaks, “Why’d we do that?” He asks, pinching his eyes shut in embarrassment.
You sense his awkwardness and scoot closer to him, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. “Chris, this doesn’t have to change things between us; best friends fuck all the time.” You say, delicately pressing a kiss to his jaw.
Chris meets your eyes, pulling his boxers back on to leave him less exposed. “You can’t call me your best friend after sucking the life out of my dick.” He laughs.
Meeting his gaze you fold your arms in your lap, “If I shouldn’t call you my best friend, what should I call you?”
“How about boyfriend?” He winks, shifting off the bed and heading for the shower stopping to toss you your dampened panties. “Can you wear these for me tomorrow?”
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ghostofhyuck · 3 months ago
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NCT Dream and things in your shared apartment that makes sense.
Mark Lee ; subtle spiderman decorations.
It was a silly fandom joke but Mark took it seriously like lol okay spidermark we see you. So it makes sense that your shared apartment with him has some subtle spiderman decorations. And it's not like you two thought about it, it just happened that when you two go shopping and saw something spiderman-related, you two would buy it impulsively. There's a lego spiderman both in your apartment keys. A small spiderman figurine lay silently on the corner of bedside table. Or maybe there's a "I love Spiderman" magnet on your fridge too. Either way, it's cute and reminds you of your boyfriend so much. 
Huang Renjun ; touches of your favorite color.
When you two first bought the shared apartment, you and Renjun discussed about the overall design of the flat, especially the color combination. Making sure that you two can come in terms, your apartment felt like a light spring because of the color combination. You two made it worked and it feels like home for the two of you! Also, you two are very meticulous with the design, like it took you guys a week to fully designed the whole apartment but it was worth it because it turned out so beautiful! <3
Lee Jeno ; everything comes in pairs!
Like. Literally. Everything. Is a pair. That's why the Dreamies would complain why you two only have two sets of plates and utensils, and Jeno would shrug, it's not like you two need more lol. The first thing you'll see is two pairs of home slippers, and key holder only has two hook. There's one long couch that only fits two people, and in the bathroom, there's a pair of toothbrush rest idly on the holder! But it's a cute way to show that the apartment is owned by a couple who's very minimal and tranquil with their life. <3
Lee Donghyuck ; mismatched decorations
I feel like the overall aesthetic of your shared apartment with Haechan is kinda chaotic but the more you stare at it, the more you think that hey, it's not that bad at all. Like it's fine that your collection of sonny angels is right next to Haechan's pc set-up. Or how a lego figurine of a sportscar is line-up on top of a cabinet and then, there's this cute miffy lamp next to it. Everything's just mismatched but it's your shared apartment, and no one seems to bat an eye at the confusing aesthetic of the apartment. 
Na Jaemin ; photobooks as coffee table center
Okay mr. narcissism, it's no surprise that you have a set of photobooks on top of your coffee table. It probably contains: (1) pictures of you two on a vacation together, (2) portraits of the people he love the most, or (3) portraits of Dreamies! He swells in pride whenever there are guests and they would look into the photobook and just admire the portraits that he captured. Plus, it's placed in your shared apartment! He was just happy that his three kids hasn't chew the photobook yet, (and hopefully not!)
Zhong Chenle ; scattered bitten objects
It's not like your apartment's messy, but Daegal is such a hyper dog despite being your princess. She just loves to play and even though her teething phase is finished, she still lovesssss carrying objects to bite. You'll just go home to your apartment and find that Daegal had reached the throw pillow and now it's on the floor, ripped open with a few cottons on the floor and you couldn't be angry with her because she has her puppy eyes waiting for you. <3 Plus, you know how your boyfriend tolerates Daegal's biting habits lol. 
Park Jisung ; a bed full of plushies
OH. Your bed with Jisung is just full of plushies and that's because you're obsessed with plushies and couldn't sleep without cuddling one. (Jisung would complain that you should just cuddle him instead.) He only have a few plushies there but you tend to just fill the bed that when morning comes, some of the plushies were already on the floor. You would pick them up and apologize for pushing them off the floor while your boyfriend just stares at you. But at the same time, he doesn't mind because it's like you two have a big family whenever he goes home and sees the pile of plushies on the bed. 
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twistedlovelines · 3 months ago
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who in the twst cast lets you put a ribbon on it. (Octavinelle, Scarabia)
NSFW, MDNI, gn! reader <3
(Heartslabyul, Savannaclaw Vers.) (Pomefiore, Ignihyde Vers.)(Diasomnia, Rollo, Crewel)
Octavinelle
Azul Ashengrotto
Somehow, having only a ribbon tied around his cock makes him feel even more bare than if he had gone without it. It’s so soft and slippery that he can’t help but whine as he bucks his hips up, the fabric serving as nothing more than another cruel tease… 
He’ll pout over how the fabric is messy post-orgasm haze, but immediately sets his sights on buying new ones. Surely just one singular ribbon cannot be enough to explore the full scope of this experience? ~~It doesn’t escape you that most of the fabrics he chooses are silk.~~
Jade Leech
Oh? He’s not surprised that you brought this up given how adventurous you’ve been in the past, but he finds it funny that you bought a ribbon that would match the streak in his hair. Enjoys the added texture, but he suggests that you expand this idea of yours- wouldn’t tying him up offer a more…invigorating sensation? 
Will definitely send him into a rabbithole of ropes, ribbons, and other types of restraints after you bring this up to him. He wants to explore all you have to offer <3 
Floyd Leech
He’s more confused on why such a small, simple scrap of fabric would turn you on, but you manage to convince him into it. It doesn’t really do much for him, but seeing how affected you are is a plus. Not super fond of silk or satin, but enjoys if you use fabrics with rougher textures- it feels good when he fucks into it <3
He generally won’t want to do anything with ribbons much, but. If he’s bored he will ask you to tie a bow around it after he’s put googly eyes on the head. You will bear witness to him treating his cock like a puppet. My condolences. 
Scarabia
Kalim Al-Asim
Oh he’s all for it the second you mention it. What fabrics do you think will be best? Ooh, this color might complement the color of his cock better- maybe he can even have some jewels sewn in to make it really sparkle! The most supportive of this particular endeavor, and will happily peruse through different swatches so you can make the perfect bow! 
Thinks silk has a nice cooling effect when you tie it around his cock, and generally enjoys the texture! He’s pretty content to let you tie up his cock however you wish, so don’t hold back <3
Jamil Viper
Raises a brow at the fact you want to tie up only his cock at first, but doesn’t really question it after you explain your reasoning. He Will be picky about what type of ribbon you use around him, though…he’s fussy when it comes to things like this! Allows you to tie a ribbon around his cock so long as you let him repay the favor later <3
The visual doesn’t do much for him, but he’s pleasantly surprised once it’s tied around him and it stimulates him a bit with every movement. Discover he gets even more heated if you tug on the bow while jerking him off, but won’t say as much unless you ask him to
a/n: will be doing the other dorms, but lmk if you want me to elaborate! Reblogs and comments appreciated <33
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sanguineterrain · 6 months ago
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Hello! I recently found your blog and bruh I'M SMITTEN by your works.
Would it be alright if I requested Jason Todd x gn reader (also vigilante but only works on small cases and in safer places... Jason wouldn't let them anywhere else after a heavy injury they sustained in the past)...
Maybe they're searching for clues in one of the alleys and reader finds a baby there and takes it home (or maybe they fall upon a tired-looking woman throwing her baby over the bridge, reader manages to catch it but when they get back up the woman is gone)? Just overall how would Jason react to his partner finding a kid and bringing it home and what would happen after.
I made myself laugh bc I thought Jason would be like "good thing you went home and not to a bat cave, can't handle another sibling, the last one is already a living hell.
And I wanted to ask if it would be alright if I requested more than just one thing? Completely fine if not.
❤️❤️❤️
This is a super cute prompt!! Thanks for sending it in. And yes feel free to send more than one request 💓
Jason Todd x gn!reader. Abandoned baby, established relationship, Jason being a cutie patootie.
****
You find the baby in a grocery store basket stuffed with blankets behind a Walmart.
She's a tiny thing, with fat cheeks and a permanent wrinkle between her brow. She's frighteningly quiet.
You take her home.
Home has become synonymous with Jason's apartment. At some point, it just made more sense for you to move in long-term. Jason had gingerly brought it up to you one night and kissed you hard when you'd said yes.
You pick up some formula on the way home and a few other things. The baby starts to cry after a bit, to your relief, and after feeding and changing her, you sway her until she falls asleep.
You're content to hold her until you get a crib. You fully intend to do so.
You hear the first lock turn, then the second, then the third. There's no worry that Jason will wake the baby; he always enters a building like he's casing it.
You have the TV turned down low, channel switched to some late-night sitcom. Jason comes in and closes the door with his foot. He takes off his helmet, revealing his messy curls. You smile.
"Hey, Jaybird," you say.
Jason glances at you as he walks to the bedroom, unzipping his vest as he goes. He grins tiredly.
"Hey, sweetheart. Hello, baby."
You watch him disappear into the bedroom. The baby is still fast asleep. You adjust your legs to get more comfortable in the chair.
Jason backs out of the room a moment later, gear still on. His vest is half-unzipped.
"That's a baby," he says.
You nod. "Yep."
Jason pulls a face like he's doing calculus in his head. "Did—do we have a... did I...?"
"How would that even work, Jason?"
"Look, there's many ways that can happen! Y'know how many freakin' clones are in this city? My freakazoid brother could get you a genetically engineered baby in twelve hours."
"She is an organically produced baby not related to either of us. Okay?"
"Oh. Sure, yeah." Jason starts to turn, then comes back. "Wait, no, I still have questions. Why do you have a baby?"
"I found her."
Jason squints at you, then at the baby. "You found her."
"Uh-huh."
"I don't think that'll hold up in court, sweets."
"Relax, Jason. I'm ninety-nine percent sure she was abandoned. I found her behind a Walmart. I know I could've dropped her at the hospital, but I just..." You look down at her sleeping face. "She's just so little. And she needs human contact. Nurses are already overworked as it is. What harm is in taking her home?"
"Yeah, y'know what that is? A siren song. Pretty soon, you'll be fitting her for a domino mask and dressing her like a traffic light."
You roll your eyes. "Don't be silly. I wouldn't dare try to take Damian's title. Plus, traffic light color palettes are so outdated."
Jason pouts. "Are not."
You carefully stand, baby in your arms, and walk over to peck Jason on his cheek.
"Are too. Wanna hold her?"
Jason looks at her like she's a bomb. "I dunno. I might... what if I... hurt her?"
You frown. "You wouldn't hurt her, Jaybird."
"I might hold her wrong or make her cry, and then I'll have to throw myself off the roof."
"You are such a drama king. She's sleeping like a log. You won't wake her unless you scream in her ear."
Before Jason can reply, you're unloading her into his arms. He jumps into action, arms and hands awkward but trying. You smile gently.
"Put her head in the crook of your elbow. Yeah, good. Support her butt. Both arms. Yeah, good! Good job, honey."
You pat his arm. Jason looks spooked for a second, then seems to relax when she doesn't stir. She's cradled in his arms like she was made to fit there.
"Isn't she so cute?" you whisper.
"She is really cute. So small. God." He watches her for a moment, mouth downturned. "I was a small baby too."
"I bet you were a cute baby," you say, tucking a curl behind Jason's ear.
"Oh, sure. People came from all over the world to have a gander at the cutest baby on the planet. Looks like she's taken my title."
Jason starts to sway lightly, holding her like she's gold. You feel your face soften.
He must feel your eyes on him, because he looks up after a moment like he's expecting you to correct his posture. "What?"
You shake your head. "Nothing. Just... I'm just really in love with you, Jay."
Jason's cheeks turn pink. He bites the inside of his cheek.
"Oh. I'm, uh, really in love with you too."
You kiss him properly for that, and Jason hums into your mouth, then pulls back slightly.
"We can't keep the baby. Y'know that, right? I gotta marry you properly first," Jason says against your lips.
"This is the twenty-first century, buddy. People keep babies all the time, unwed or not."
"Yeah, I know. Still wanna marry you first."
You look down at the baby and give her an air kiss. Then you look up at Jason, putting on the saddest face you can muster. He sighs.
"Well," he says, gently touching her fingers. "Maybe we can keep her for a little while."
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clairdelunelove · 5 months ago
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it's the way that having itadori yuuji as your best friend would be disastrous if you ever dated someone else. it's not glaringly obvious the first couple of times your significant other spots you with the blushy haired male; waiting for you outside the shop's fitting room, surprising you with a freshly baked dessert from the local bakery, or ruffling your hair when you announce some positive news. but it's the tiny details that are automatically picked at and asked about first.
'we're just super close, that's all,' you once confessed to them when they confronted you about it.
and sure, the word close was an understatement when (on more than one occasion) your partner caught yuuji's gleaming eyes fixated on your glossy lips. or how, when the three of you are eating out at a restaurant, yuuji intentionally reaches over the table to swipe at the corner of your mouth due to your messy eating. only to bring his thumb back to his lips to lick it off with a light-hearted hum. it certainly doesn't sit too well with the new boyfriend you managed to woo. thus, questions are raised, arguments get heated, and you've given the exact same reasoning every time they interrogate you.
'he's naturally friendly to everyone.'
'he's just a nice guy!'
because who was your new partner to say that you couldn't spend time with yuuji? what would that make them? the villain, obviously. because yuuji's extremely likable. he laughs at cliche jokes, only makes promises he can keep, and goes the extra mile to include everyone in conversation. his character is unmatched. there are many that aim to be a fraction of the man that yuuji is. he even goes out of his way to guide the elderly across the street or helps carry the grocery bags for single mothers. and the notion that all your exes can agree on is that, it's crazy, but yuuji's almost too perfect. equipped with a beaming grin and boyish charm that captivates the hearts of others. not to mention the ripples of raw muscle that he conceals beneath layers of clothes; don't even get your previous boyfriends started on that.
because, for some odd reason, there’s always a scenario that comes up where yuuji has to strip in front of you. he spills water on his hoodie or you’re cold so he gives you his jacket; whatever happens and suddenly your gaze shifts greedily to the expanse of skin that’s unveiled to you. the golden, veiny physique that he rarely flaunts despite how much you unknowingly hint towards appreciating. 
and they just can’t fathom how to compete. this guy is the epitome of the trope ‘the boy next door.’ yet, there are some that set out to outdo yuuji. the ones that refuse to give up due to pride and jealousy. they tell themselves that they won’t lose to some wide-eyed, blushy haired friend. and it’s that hot, boiling pride that later comes back to bite them. 
because like the descent of quicksand, once it starts– it doesn’t stop. as in, yuuji completely outshines them in every way. 
like the time where your boyfriend invited you out to the newest bar that just opened up in town. it’s preppy with their illuminated, colorful ceiling lights and booming music– the perfect place for sprightly young adults to relax and enjoy the evening. and perhaps it would’ve been enjoyable if you were in the right mood to revel in the electric energy. but you weren’t. 
“I’m just not feeling up for it,” you explain while sheepishly biting your lip, “kinda just wanted to stay in tonight. can we do that instead?” 
yet your boyfriend dismisses your suggestion with a wave of his hand and reassures you that you’ll love it. this place had an incredible rating, after all. you’ll enjoy it and it’ll be better if the two of you leave early to get decent parking. plus it was in the busiest part of town so it was bound to be popular. ‘they have a lot of new drinks you can try,’ he spurs, ‘just suck it up this time and we can do something at my place next weekend.’ 
so like the people pleaser you are, you agree. perhaps you’d find it in you to live it up. bask in the thrill of a long night. but you find out rather quickly that you’re on the verge of being blinded by the flashing lights and decor. you can’t move without bumping shoulders with a stranger. you can’t think without your thoughts being rudely interrupted by drunk individuals that hiccup through an apology. you can’t even spot where your boyfriend went in this mess. and you’re just so overstimulated; head ringing with the promise of an oncoming migraine. cupping your hands over your ears, you attempt to block out the deafening music in order to actually formulate some logic on what you should do in this situation. how could he just leave you alone in this crowd? you weren’t expecting to be separated from him, let alone be left in the corner of the room. you didn’t even want to come. all your effort was for nothing. your chest feels heavy and your heart drops at the realization that you wouldn’t even be in this turmoil if he’d just listened to your unease. to put aside his own personal pleasure and attend to yours instead. your fingers are shaking. and in situations like these, where you’re on the verge of breaking down, you pull out your phone and dial the first contact that pops up. 
-
“comin’ through!” 
you hear his voice before you spot him. a crisp, clear tone that causes you to lift your gaze in desperation. and he’s on the move. wide shoulders pushing through the crowd of scantily dressed bar-goers, he curses beneath his breath and bulldozes his way to you. his soft, pink hair bobs at the rate he’s moving and the revelation that he genuinely came hits you like a freight train. because he’s here— here to rescue you from this overpriced, overcrowded bar. still, he looks out of place. clad in a loose jacket and loungewear, he certainly doesn’t fit the criteria of coming to an expensive bar. in fact, his outfit gives the impression that he haphazardly threw on whatever he could get his hands on before sprinting out the door. and little do you know, that’s exactly what he did. though, his sharp features and built physique don’t go unnoticed. there are a couple teasing remarks that leave the painted lips of women occupying the dance floor. their gaze dips to survey the bar’s newcomer. your ears burn at their advances as you shift on your feet. their words are flirtatious, frisky, and bold– saying the right compliments that’d charm typical men so they could have their way with them. 
yet he treads through, undeterred, his tender gaze never leaving yours as he passes by them. 
“you okay?” 
it’s the first inquiry that leaves yuuji upon making his way to you. always the type to ask about someone else’s well-being before assessing his own. his brows are knitted in a frown as his soft whisper almost causes your composure to crack. and even through the bar’s blaring music you can pick up his voice from anywhere because you search for him in everything. he scours your face, shiny eyes pinballing across your soft features to check in on you. 
“you actually came here for me?” 
the observation leaves your lips in a breath of disbelief. on a weekend, a time where many were called into the promises of a long slumber, your best friend shows up in accordance with your plea for help. like how a superhero rescues the vulnerable civilian in those comic books that yuuji adored reading when he was younger. the tears that welled up in your reddened eyes have dried due to his arrival and your fingers itch to reach out in a need to hold him. 
he blinks owlishly and scratches the back of his head, “‘course I did! you called.” 
and he says it so simply; like his life’s purpose was to fulfill your happiness and beckon to your every word. crossing your arms over your chest, you’re abruptly reminded of the outfit you’re wearing. while he’s clad in clothes that are so inherently yuuji, you’re dressed in an overly extravagant getup that drapes along your curves. it’s different from the typical wardrobe that’s in your closet that he’d recognized. he steps closer to you, his comfort automatically enveloping you in warmth, and instantly starts to unzip his jacket. 
“yuu,” you begin to say while glancing around, “what are you–”
“you look good.” 
you freeze. it’s not the first time yuuji’s given you a compliment before, of course not. he’s an affectionate person by nature. but it’s always been said in passing— the occasional murmur before you walk out of the door or a hushed whisper as he’s leaving. the words are uttered in secrecy. he respects you and is aware that the flattering remarks are too intimate to verbalize when you’re with someone else. 
doesn’t mean what he says is any less true, though. 
“too much? sorry but,” he lightheartedly chuckles as he fiddles with the jacket around your shoulders, “jus’ don't like the idea of everyone seeing you like this.” 
and you’re stumped, burning to the tips of your ears due to his rather endearing words. feels like fuzz is sticking to your tongue because he’s so honest. and you know he is, that’s why you adore spending time with him– you admire him for it. yuuji wouldn’t mention something so significant if it wasn’t true. and the gaze that he’s fixed upon you is like there’s nothing in the world that he finds more beautiful than you. not the sun that hangs in the morning to brighten the day. not the moon that’s barely visible from outside the building’s windows. not even the entirety of the galaxy can compare to the light that you radiate tonight. so perhaps your effort to show up wasn’t entirely in vain.
“let’s go.” 
lifting his hand, he rests it against the back of your neck and starts to part the crowd for you. he’s made up his mind. enough of this stuffy, raucous club. once you called him, he already knew that this wasn’t the type of activity you wished to spend your money and time on. but don’t worry, he’ll make it all better. leave it to him. and there’s a glimmer of determination in his honeyed eyes. his fingers graze the strip of your soft skin, a sort of gentle protectiveness conveyed in his touch. 
and naturally you follow him. how could you not when his grip on you is comforting yet exhilarating? enraptured by his sweet words and warmth, you erupt in goosebumps whenever he’s around. yet he’s completely unaware. instead, he cutely mumbles to himself on where the exit is, glancing at the neon illuminated signs for a clue. he was comfort, security, and need– all in one. 
you let him guide you closer. 
on your way out, however, the two of you end up crossing paths with your boyfriend. busy chatting up a group of distinguished, young partygoers with an amber drink in his hand. his face is flushed bright red, most likely from the alcohol and perspiration from the humidity within the room. yet, there’s a carefree grin on his face as he gossips with a girl that’s hanging by his side. the whole night you were frantically waiting for him and he was here– cozying up with people you’ve never seen. and at first, it’s anger that courses through your veins. until it morphs into confused regret. a part of you thought it was strange to spot him just as you were leaving.
yuuji notices where your dazed stare drifted off to and he carefully treads over to your boyfriend with you following his trail. 
“I’m taking her home,” yuuji says. 
it’s a declaration. a statement. yuuji won’t listen to any half-baked excuse or alibi that your partner might come up with. 
your partner’s eyes widen at your unexpected arrival and he immediately stands up from his chair. his eyes bounce from yuuji to you, disbelief written on his face. can feel the beginnings of embarrassment lashing at him. he knows he’s messed up and gotten caught. so he does what he does best. glancing at the way yuuji’s hand is splayed on the back of your neck and the dark jacket draped on your shoulders, his brow knowingly raises towards you. 
“uh, I’m surprised you’re here,” your partner acknowledges yuuji’s presence with a quick once over, “did she call you?” 
and there’s no remorse in his voice. not an ounce of concern for your well-being despite the way you stand in front of him. he’s just worried about his own wounded pride due to the fact that yuuji’s upstaging him in every way. there isn’t any time to cry a river though because your brain suddenly short-circuits when yuuji’s thumb starts to absentmindedly stroke at the sensitive part of your neck. an act of comfort that causes warmth to spread throughout your body. using his grasp as leverage, he tugs you closer to him until you’re desperately gripping onto the front of his shirt and you let out a yelp of revelation. because from this angle, there’s a sharp glint in yuuji’s eyes that you've never seen before. a huff bordering a chuckle escapes from his lips. 
“are you surprised? really?” yuuji asks rather rhetorically before smoothly shrugging, “I’m not surprised.” 
and yuuji’s hand falls to wrap around the curve of your waist to prove his point. a knowing grin twists on his face when you instinctively curl yourself against him, a blush dusting your cheeks. your partner or rather, ex-partner, clicks his tongue while turning away. the exchange was over. and just like that, it’s obvious that yuuji’s dedication towards you has won again. he’s rescued, comforted, and bandaged up all your troubles tonight. shown you the image of reliability and trust. you’re familiar with the nature of his devotion for you is always growing and never-ending. and you might’ve made a new realization.
you’re in love with your best friend. 
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shawnxstyles · 1 year ago
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baby honey
OCTOBER 29, 2023
summary: besides being a friendly bartender at night, harry likes to get a little extra cash by doing porn during the day; and he’s successful. but who knew it was so common for two people who work at the same bar to both be secret porn stars?
request: @victoria-styles: “How about like Harry is a porn star who requests a video with Y/N.”
song: baby honey- harry <3
words: 11k
warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [masturbation], m-receiving [masturbation], mentions of porn, dirty talk) and language.
note: sorry for being off the world for so long… i’ll probably end up doing it again soon. but i had a day to write and i wanted to throw this out there. again, i apologize if it’s rushed or sloppy. it’s just the time i had :/ PART TWO
secret pornstar!harry x secret pornstar!y/n
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“What’d you like, beautiful?” Harry smiles brightly, flashing his white bunny teeth at the lady on the other side of the bar. Her auburn highlights were curled romantically while she sported a tight black dress that was too small for her breasts. She was definitely a young college student while Harry was in his late 20s. Noticing his appearance, she bites her burgundy-painted lips. Her elbows lean on the slick counter, leaning forward to subtly show Harry more of her cleavage.
He didn’t indulge, but continued with his flirty attitude in order to get more tips. Charm was his speciality; it came naturally to him with no effort. After bartending for two years, everything became easy. Plus, it was fun to flirt all night long. He never got tired of the desire that flashed in women’s eyes as they looked him up and down. It made him feel confident and cocky, and he tried his hardest not to be arrogant when talking about it with his co-workers.
Being a bartender was like playing a role for some people, but for Harry, it was just who he was. And he got paid for it. In a nice paycheck and hefty tips.
“Mm, I don’t know. What do you suggest?” Her voice was high and hissy, trying to appear sensual. She slides a card toward him with two fingers. Harry doesn’t blink an eye or hesitate at this behavior; he’s seen this movie too many times to be naive.
With a smirk on his face, Harry works his magic behind the counter. His white sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, giving the lady a perfect view of his forearm muscles and veins. The woman watches his every move, focusing on the way his tattooed hands grip every bottle with efficient skill yet delicacy.
In less than two minutes, a peach colored drink was placed in front of the woman. Her eyes visibly sparkle as if she’s never seen alcohol before she sips the liquid.
“Oh my God! This is delicious,” She practically moans out, causing Harry to smirk. He loves when people compliment his craft. “What is this?”
“Sex on the beach,” Harry winks and flashes his famous grin before snatching her card and waltzing away.
His parting was almost cool, almost movie-like until he ran into somebody holding a large tub of ice. The tub smacked him in his abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. He groans deeply, trying to catch his breath while clutching his stomach for a moment.
“Fuck! Are you okay?” Your eyes wander over Harry’s face and body, attempting to recover. Hearing his voice made a flush spread across your whole skin, but you blame it on the warmth around the bar. Your white and yellow-painted fingers clutch around the handles tightly.
“Yeah, m’fine. Just knocked the wind out of me s’all,” He smiles reassuringly, throwing his rag over his shoulder. His eyes scan over your figure, just like he tries to avoid doing every night.
You had your hair pinned up in a messy bun that was simple, yet so alluring. A classic white button up and a black vest adorned your body perfectly. You wore the same standard uniform as everyone else, yet you made it look so seductive to Harry; he assumed you got loads of tips by the end of the night. Even if you were in a garbage bag, you would blow people away in the bar–men and women. He was jealous of everyone who got to be a part of your flirtatious side, but not everyone saw the genuine side of you like he had.
Another flush cascaded your skin as his eyes drifted over you and the smallest smirk appeared on his lips. The sounds of music and people buzzing drunkenly weren’t nearly as loud as the heart that was thumping in your chest. You clenched the handles even harder before looking anywhere but him, too intimidated by his charming presence.
“I’ll just, um,” You suggested awkwardly with a half smile. Standing this close to Harry without talking made you think of things. Things that you dreamt about, or things that inspired your hand to drift between your legs. The ice in the tub was probably melting from the warmth radiating off of you.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Harry shakes his head and shifts in an attempt to move past you.
You adjust the tub as he slides next to you, bodies rubbing together. His hand gently rests on your shoulder as he wiggles by you. Butterflies soar throughout your tummy at the brief contact before his touch is gone way too soon. You watch as his smile grows, walking backwards before turning around and charming another customer.
You exhale and return to focusing on your job, the bubbly feeling never leaving you.
From the corner of his eye, Harry sees you walk around the corner until you’re completely out of his sight. The black slacks you wore made him tight in his trousers a countless amount of times, basically every night. Even though he tried to avoid staring, his gaze and curiosity was drawn to you, so he hopelessly stared at your body as you strutted away. When his greedy cock twitches, he bites his tongue.
Well, at least he knows what he’s thinking about later.
God, it was so wrong. To think about you while he was getting himself off. He couldn’t help himself. After working with you for a year, his attraction to you never ceased. He thought if maybe he just got off on the idea of you one time he would be freed from the attraction he felt for his co-worker. But that only created a routine.
Harry would hook-up occasionally, and yeah, it would be nice, but nothing satisfied him completely because they weren’t you. He consistently found himself masturbating with thoughts of you on your knees. Or you on his lap, straddling or riding him. He would imagine the way you’d whine, whimper, moan, and scream for him, and these thoughts made him come hard every time.
But that nagging, unsatisfied feeling haunted him. He wanted you so bad it almost hurt. So, he resorted to other, less practical options.
He had thought about joining the porn industry awhile ago when he was in college. He thought it would be great money, and it turns out it’s even better than what he makes as a bartender.
And he thought being a bartender would make him cocky and arrogant.
Harry started over half a year ago–a few months after you got the job. In order to distract himself from thinking of you or sleeping with other women, he recorded videos during the day. Surprisingly, he got more popular than he thought he would, gaining a few thousand subscribers in just three months. Now, seven months since the beginning, Harry would do videos, live streams, and personal requests for people who paid extra.
But he never showed his face. Ever.
At night, he would work his busy shift at the bar, flirting with customers just like he did on live streams. This way, he couldn’t allow himself to engage in the idea of having a crush on a co-worker. It was just unprofessional. But even if he tried doing all of this, it was impossible for him to deny the small crush he had on you. So, that’s all he labeled it as; a small crush. Nothing more.
He wouldn’t say you were his only reason for getting into the industry. He had thought about it for quite some time, so you were just his… motivator.
When the bustling night finally comes to an end, nothing but a few footsteps echo throughout the bar as Harry wipes the counter and tables clean. As he’s just finishing up his last table, he hears your angelic voice on the other side of the bar.
“Need some help?” You offer, with a slight head tilt and a show-stopping smile as you lean on the glossy, black counter. That was the smile that got you tips, and if it didn’t, Harry would sure be willing to give you some himself. “Please let me help.”
“Just finishing up. Go on home. Don’t worry ‘bout closing up,” He tosses the rag over his shoulder as he walks towards the back room where all the locker rooms are located. You sigh into the silent air as you follow him.
“Harry, you can’t keep doing this for me every night. I can close up by myself. I’m a big girl…”
Ever since you’ve started, Harry’s been intrigued by you. Out of curiosity on your first night, Harry stayed back and helped you close up. He was surprised they made you close so soon, especially on the first night. But you should’ve had previous training.
It was purely curiosity, just to see if you did it right and whatnot. But then he did it the next night, and the next. And eventually, he anticipated and looked forward to cleaning up the bar, knowing that it was just the two of you. It didn’t really help Harry with his little crush on you, but he didn’t care when he heard your laugh and saw your smile. You were refreshing to him after a long, busy night that crept into early morning.
“I know, I know. Don’t want you to be lonely s’all.” Popping open his locker, he shuffles through all of his belongings. You appreciated that Harry would stay an extra hour every single night just because he didn’t want you to feel lonely. It made your heart all warm and your stomach feel gushy every time you were alone together. For some reason right now, his words made your tummy tingle.
“And I appreciate that a lot! But I feel bad for making you stay here longer than you have to. I know Carrie doesn’t even know you work that late,” You cross your arms while talking about your manager. Harry rolls his eyes as he continues to mess around in his locker.
“You’re not makin’ me do anything. I’m doin’ it all on my own,” He rebuttals as you move closer to him as if he’ll hear you clearer.
“But Harry–” Harry cuts off your voice because it sounds too whiny, pathetic, and way too erotic for him to make any rational decisions with you standing this close to him. He slams his hand on the metal locker, making your eyes widen and freeze.
“But nothing. Stop your whinin’, Y/N. I thought you were a big girl,” Harry grumbles before unbuttoning his vest and shrugging it off. Even if he’s just removing his vest, his hands are a bit shaky, nerves flowing through him because you’re staying right in front of him, unmoving, while he’s undressing himself.
“What are you doing?” You ask anxiously as your eyes flash over at his movements.
“Taking m’vest off?”
“Oh, right, yeah,” Well, now, you look fucking stupid.
You both bicker back and forth until Harry caves and you shine that bullet-proof smile at him. He swears he feels his knees buckle and heart jump in his chest, but swallows the feelings down.
“Fine, get the mop.”
Together, you wipe all the surfaces clean, mop the floors, restock any liquors that were empty, and lock the doors. When your job is done, you and Harry walk into the back room to grab your stuff.
“Thanks for staying,” You felt as though it was getting awkward, the silence of your footsteps and the creakness of the locker door.
“‘Course,” Harry replies gruffly and shuts his door. As he leads you out the backdoor, you both start heading in different directions without knowing. Harry usually parks in the same stall every day if he can. However, you don’t and just park anywhere you can.
“Oh. Well, goodnight, H,” You smiled softly as you drifted away to your car. It looked a little different to Harry, but maybe that’s just because it was almost pitch-black outside. Or did you get a new car and he just never noticed? Harry watches you carefully to make sure you get to your vehicle safely, and when you do, he makes his way to his own car.
You didn’t call him H a lot. The first time you did it was by accident when you spilt something on his slacks during your first week in training. He just laughed and cleaned himself up, and then said that nobody had ever called him that besides his mom. For some odd reason, a little spark ignited in you, so you started calling him H, but not all the time since it seemed special. Most of the time when you two were alone. You didn’t want other people saying H when it kind of became your guys’ thing. Besides his mom of course.
Harry loved when you called him H. His mom called him that when he was a little boy, but it’s been at least a decade since she’s said just the pure letter.
As Harry starts his engine and backs out, he inhales deeply with the thought of you in his mind. As always.
“Y/N, I need my car back,” Penny says on the other side of the phone, slight annoyance lacing her tone.
“I know, okay? I’m just trying to save up, and I almost have enough!”
“Fine,” Penny sighs. You can hear the exhausted pinch of her nose, “but I need it back by next Friday for that trip no matter what. Even if you have to take the damn bus. And if you don’t, I’m telling Mom and Dad.”
“Thank you so much!” Your voice is cut off by the sound of the call ending, and you sigh heavily into the morning air. She’s very mature for a thirty year old.
Last week, your car had broken down on the side of the road. It was an old, shitty car, but it got you from your parents’ house and through most of college. Your parents helped pay for a good chunk of your tuition, so you didn’t dare to ask them to loan you some money for a new car. You didn’t want them to know you needed help because they’ve already done so much for you two and you know they’re looking to retire at some point. So, you asked your older sister, Penny, to borrow hers for a few days while you came up with a better solution. She was fine with it at first, but you can tell it’s probably time to give it back.
However, even though you said you would have the money by next Friday and it’s Sunday, you wouldn’t. There is no way in hell you were going to come up with an extra two thousand dollars in twelve days.
You decided to open up to Harry as you were closing the bar on Tuesday night. He listened with care and nodded along to every complaint you whined. Even though it brutally killed him to listen to it. Gosh, he was so dirty minded.
“I can’t even get a second job because I wouldn’t get paid in time. And I really don’t want Penny playing snitch and telling my parents about my car,” You gasp, “What if they stop paying for my tuition because they think I’m irresponsible? Ugh, what should I do, Harry?”
“Relax f’me,” Harry reassured, and bit his cheek at his choice of words. Why is he the most sexual person ever? “I could always take you to work. And loan you some cash.”
“Absolutely not. We don’t work the same days and I don’t want you driving me when you could be busy—”
“Y/N, s’not an issue. The university s’not that far from ‘ere.”
“But—”
“No,” Harry ended the banter quickly with a strict tone. His voice made you swallow and submit without a second thought. Your stomach unconsciously burned and your heart beated rapidly as you blinked in place. “Go get y’things.”
“Fine, but I don’t want your money.”
So, you got your things. Harry walked you out to your car and then you went your separate ways. Even though he said it’s not a big deal, you didn’t drop it. Instead, you did excessive research on part-time jobs that pay really well. However, your options were slim to none.
Giving up, you fell dramatically onto your mattress in defeat. Suddenly, your phone pings and you check it, wondering who would be texting you at one A.M.
H: Send me your schedule when you get the chance. The new one hasn't been printed yet.
H: You’re probably asleep, sorry
Y/N: i’m not asleep
Y/N: *Image Attachment*
H: Cool thanks
Y/N: no thank YOU for helping me out you’re too kind H
H: Anything for you love
Is what Harry wanted to say, but he was too much of a chicken. That’s what Harry wanted to say in a perfect world, but nothing is on his side. He thought he had erased the message and exited the app. Instead, the message sent, and autocorrect changed the entire meaning.
H: Anything for your love
This is why punctuation and revision is important!
Your heart skipped a beat. Longer than a beat. You felt the organ get caught in your throat and subtly choke you as you read the four words. Why would he say that? You wait a few moments to see if he’s going to type something else, maybe realize he made a mistake, but he never does. So, you sit rereading the four words like a mantra in your head.
You turn your phone off after you realize how ridiculous you’re being. You place the device on your nightstand and try to go to sleep. But you can’t. You can’t stop thinking of Harry. His kindness, his voice, his body, his words… They’re infecting you and giving you insomnia.
So, instead of staring at the ceiling until you fall asleep, you snatch your laptop from below your nightstand. You pull up your private browser (not that it matters) and search your favorite website. Well, your favorite porn website.
If you watched enough videos, or maybe even fingered yourself, you would fall asleep.
You were a regular on the website. More than a regular. You were a… worker. A star, or whatever. Is that what the employees were called? At the beginning of college you started recording little videos of yourself just groping or rubbing hoping to earn a little cash. But when you got a little more confident, you would rub your clit and finger yourself until you came.
Crazy, right?
It’s quite insane how it all happened. It’s a good side hustle, but it’s still not enough to help you buy a car by your deadline. You get paid less than you do as a bartender, which kind of sucks. You thought about quitting, but it’s probably the funnest job you’ve ever had. How many jobs do you get orgasms from?
None.
Maybe you need to step up your game. Maybe you need to start using various toys that your viewers recommend in order to spice things up. Will that get you views? You didn’t know because you didn’t know a lot about the porn industry.
Scrolling past your profile to avoid obsessing over your insecurities, you look at who's live. That’s one thing you’ll never do; go on live. No matter how much the handful of viewers you get want you to, you don’t trust yourself. You never show your face in any of your videos and if you did by accident, you always blur it out. But on livestream, you can’t just go back and fix it. Your face will be on the internet forever, and your biggest fear is that it will haunt you for the rest of your life.
What if you can’t get a real job because your face is on some porn website? Or you can’t get married? Or you can’t look your friends in the eyes because they’ve seen yours on a livestream?
You couldn’t live with that.
When nothing seems at all entertaining, a video of a man with tattoos spawns on your screen. Your first thought was that it looks like Harry, but you know it wasn’t. The man didn’t have the cross tattoo on his left hand and was lacking in other spots.
You bet Harry was fit. The way he carried those tubs of ice or lifted something heavy off the shelves… You knew he had to have some type of hefty muscle under his rolled button-up. Speaking of, when he curls the white sleeves, you can’t help but ogle him every time you see him. You strain to look away because his forearms just look so delicious with his smooth, tattooed skin.
Nonetheless, you still clicked on the video. It was a solo guy simply just jerking himself off with loads of foreplay and dirty talk. Usually, this kind of scene makes you cringe. But as your mind spirals, you imagine it’s Harry; his voice, his tattoos, his body, his hands…
Every explicit word and sound that falls from the man’s mouth causes you to whimper as you translate it as Harry. Your hand easily shuffles itself between your widening legs, rubbing gently over the cotton of your panties.
The guy begins stroking his cock, slowly but surely as his tip leaks. You shut your eyes, not bothering with the video. All you wanted were the sounds—the grunting, moaning, and direct words spouting from this man’s throat that pushed you further. They sounded gruff, and you couldn’t erase how perfectly it aligned with your imagination of Harry.
A broken moan escapes you when you shift your underwear to the side and slot in a finger. You barely teased yourself, and thrusted in and out with purpose.
The man in the video was American, and some may say it’s hard to imagine a British accent. But when you were horny and had a ridiculous crush on your 28 year old co-worker who was 6 years older than you, your brain was relentless.
The audio spouted out his grumbled moan as your opposing thumb rolled over your clit. You couldn’t stop thinking of Harry’s hands on you, his fingers inside of you instead of your own. You imagine he’s good too. You can practically feel the way he sinks all the way into you and curls deliciously until his rings are teasing your folds. His smirk would hang over your face as you broke down, trembling as you came around his digits.
That wasn’t real, but your mind couldn’t comprehend that right now. As the guy loudly groaned one final time, he came with spurts of his orgasm landing on his chiseled torso.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came around two fingers that weren’t Harry’s. The remaining thought left you unsatisfied overall, but it would have to surfice for tonight. As you drained yourself of your orgasm, you trudged to your shared bathroom and quickly cleaned yourself up before anyone could see.
Your dormmates were always in and out. They both were in full-time relationships and jobs that caused them to be busy twenty-four-seven. Sometimes, you were glad because then you could have the whole dorm to yourself. That’s usually when you recorded your videos for your website, and then would edit them some other time.
Now exhausted, you flopped onto your bed and shut your laptop closed. You twisted off your bedside lamp as your eyes grew heavier by the minute. It wasn’t long before your mind dragged you into slumber, the thought of Harry still lingering.
When you woke up the next morning, you were glad you didn’t have work that night. Although you’ve selfishly gotten off to Harry before, you never did have to face him the next day. It’s almost like you planned it that way. You groggily rolled out of bed as you normally do and began your short morning routine.
You left the doom and walked to class, too tired to get a coffee, but too tired to go to class. Your head pounded, needing the addicting caffeine, so you forced yourself to walk down to the small coffee shop near your school.
Snatching the miniature paper cup, you skulked your way to class with half your brain on. During the lecture, you felt yourself slipping away into dreamland; one where you had a great paying job, a nice, working car, and a very, very comfy bed. You imagined yourself sleeping peacefully and then waking up to the sound of chirping birds on your windowsill and a handsome man by your side. For a sliver of a moment, due to your shenanigans last night, your brain envisioned Harry as the man beside you. But even the exhausted and delirious morning version of you knew you were being foolish to even think about Harry in the same bed as you. Boy, was that a fantasy.
It was too domestic and way too out of reach for you both. You merely closed with the guy and ranted about your own life. Pouring out your problems was definitely not attractive, and neither was a college girl that was six years younger than him without a working car. But he offered to drive you to work. What does that mean? Nothing. That’s just what friendly co-workers do, right? When you realized you were insanely delusional, you rushed to scribble the notes in your notebook before your daydreams got the best of you.
“That’s all for today,” were your favorite set of words at the moment. The second you heard your professor’s routine dismissal, you were shoving your supplies in your bag with more energy than you had all day. You were the first to exit class, but was that really surprising?
When you got back to the dorm, you dropped your bag and fell flat on your bed. Silence filled your room just as last night (or this morning if you wanted to get technical). But it was brighter and a bit stuffer due to the heat of the sun beaming through your window that you forgot to block with your blinds. Groaning, you do just that right as you get a message from your phone. Flopping back on your bed, you flip the device over with surprise.
H: Do you work today
You were shocked to see that Harry texted you because one, it was mid-day and two, he rarely ever texts. When his name pops up on your screen’s wallpaper, your heart jumps in your chest before reading the message ten more times in order to comprehend it. But this text specifically had you confused. You sent him your schedule last night, so he knows exactly when you work. Why would he need to be asking you when he has the information?
Instead of being a bitch, you just reply simply.
Y/N: i don’t. why what’s up
He responds quickly.
H: Carrie called and asked if anyone could come in to cover Allison’s shift tonight
Y/N: closing?
H: Yeah
Y/N: are you working?
Why would you ask that? You were probably going to pick up the shift anyway, so why didn’t you just say yes?
Maybe because your delusional ass wants to keep this dry, solely work-related conversation going!
H: Yes
Y/N: kk then i can cover
H: Need a ride?
Why did Harry ask that? He knows that you still have your sister’s car for the rest of the week, yet he still asked. Is there a little sliver inside of him that hopes you’ll say yes just so he can spend time with you? Yes. The real question was, is it weird that he wanted you to say yes?
Y/N: it’s okay i still have penny’s car until friday
Harry didn’t respond after that. He was hit with what he assumed was disappointment, but he had no reason to be disappointed.
You were the type of person to ask a million questions until you found out the reason behind something. Harry found that out early on. So, just in case you ask him why he reached out to you, his excuse would be that you needed the money because of Tuesday’s rant. Maybe it would sound a little harsh, but it was better than Harry admitting that he just wanted to work with you again. Or that he wanted to be with you alone.
God, he sounds like such a creep.
When the night came, Harry was impatiently waiting for you to come in. He had already been there an hour and every few minutes his head would look backward to see if you were walking in through the back door. When he realized how weird and obsessive he was being, he refocused on his work; smiling, charming, and getting tips. Some nights were harder than others to act all sexy and sweet because he didn’t always feel that way. But when he worked with you, everything seemed a bit easier. But it was also because he had the dirtiest mind in the world and couldn’t stop thinking about what was underneath your button-up. Okay, so maybe working with you wasn’t the easiest…
“Look at her.”
“Who?”
“That one. The one with the pinned up hair,” A burly man points. “I would not mind gettin’ some of that.”
“Oh yeah. Look at her tits. They are practically poppin’ out of that top–”
Harry’s never turned around so quickly in his life. When he turned, he saw exactly what the two bastards were looking at; you. You were wearing a little more makeup than usual and your top was missing the first button. Harry felt his blood boil, but not with rage. No, it was bubbling up with some intense need to push you into the back room and lock the door. He would pluck off every single button with his mouth if you asked him to. But he also hated that everyone could see. Every person in this bar, including the two perverts behind him, got to ogle your beauty. Harry felt like he couldn’t admire you the way that strangers get to, and he was right. He couldn’t. It was wrong. You were friends. You were co-workers. That had to be against some rule, right?
Once he got his head somewhat straight, he spun back around to face the two men again. Harry was not charming and he was not smiling this time. Before Harry even had the chance to speak, the man was already talking over him.
“Yo, you think you could hook me up with that one? The busty one?” Harry was going to beat the shit out of this guy. But he’s going to try his best to remain professional first.
“You’re not allowed to hit on employees. And you’re not allowed to talk about them in an inappropriate manner,” Harry clenched his jaw and peered over at you, “If you say another goddamn word about her I will kick your ass to the curb, yeah?”
One of the men wasn't even paying attention anymore, but the one who started it all merely snickered at Harry. He shook his head in annoyance before spinning around on his stool and hopping off. He could hear little grumbles coming from his bearded mouth, but he didn’t actually say anything else. Harry felt like it was a little victory in his book, but he still felt that drop of jealousy inside of him.
Control.
He took a deep breath and concentrated on anything else. He attempted to stay as far away from you as possible because he thinks tonight may be the night he loses control. You had your hair pinned up again, like usual, but the ends were sticking out. Harry thought about pulling on them until your hair came undone completely. Like he noticed earlier, you had on more makeup, but it wasn’t a lot compared to some of the women that waltzed into the bar. Your lipstick was a bold red while your eyes had that gold glitter eyeshadow stuff that made them sparkle. To say the least, you were attractive. You were a captivating magnet of beauty that people were drawn to. When you walked in a room, people stopped to look at you for minutes at a time because they were fascinated by you. Well, that’s at least how Harry felt. Every time.
At midnight, when the bar finally died down a bit because it’s Wednesday, Harry still tried to avoid you. You seemed extra smiley and extra bouncy for some reason too. It was physically hard to not walk over to you. When Harry wanted something, he usually got it, but his self-control was proving that fact to be false.
“Hey, I haven’t seen you all night!” Just when he thought you might leave his mind for the first time tonight–you weren’t–he summoned you next to him. You were as smiley and bouncy as you seemed earlier and he wondered how you weren’t exhausted.
“Hey,” he replied with some guilt in his tone. He coughs, trying not to peer down at your breasts. “How are you so…”
“Awake? I had four espresso shots before work.”
“Okay, well, that explains a lot,” Harry felt the need to say something about your look. He wanted to compliment you, but would that be weird? No, right? You probably got a hundred compliments and loads of tips because of your beauty alone. He has never thought twice about complimenting somebody before. He swallowed. “I, uh, like your makeup.”
You blinked, suddenly feeling the weight of your mascara on your eyelashes and the lipstick on your lips. Your heart was already beating quickly because of the caffeine, but Harry’s compliment made it much worse. The organ was thumping speedily inside of you like it was trying to win a race. Your ears were getting warm along with the nape of your neck as a tingle of something shot through your body. Like? Lust? Need?
“T-Thank you,” You bit your tongue immediately for stuttering. Harry ignited a flame of energy into you that no amount of caffeine could recreate. He was staring at you now, his gaze so intense you might melt from his invisible laser beams. When his irises moved, you swear they shot down to your cleavage for a millisecond before staring at your painted lips. You tried not to look at any of his tattoos that were visible because you knew that would end it all for you; all of your self-control that you have somehow mustered up this far would disintegrate into the lust-filled air. Did he feel this too? The intense attraction connected by a thick rope that pulled you closer and closer together?
“I’m going to go do…anything else.” As your body moved away from him in an urge to remain self-controlled, your eyes were the last thing to yank away. But your luck got the best of you, as always. As you walked backwards, your heel stepped on a half-melted ice cube that managed to make you slip on your ass. But not before Harry was right in front of you, catching you before you ass hit the ground.
He tugs you up a little too harshly, slamming you into his chest. Your hands immediately flatten themselves against it while he holds your elbows tightly. He quickly peers down at your chipped nails; white and yellow. His gaze on them made you tremble with sudden insecurity. You’ve never been this close to him before, and all your insides were warning you of their near death. Your vagina was melting away at this point, your wetness soaking your underwear until they were completely wet. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your throat while his heart throbbed against your palms.
Maybe he did feel it too.
Hesitantly, you looked up at him, but he was already looking at you.
“What are you doing to me?” he asks quietly, his grip loosening just the slightest.
“I could ask the same thing,” You responded breathlessly, hands slowly sliding down his chest.
“I have no control around you.”
“What do you mean?” You knew what he meant because you felt it too, but you wanted him to say it first. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it before the words could come out. Once you are on steady feet, he releases his hold on you completely just as the bar doorbell rings. An older man walks in, Harry immediately fetching the guy’s order. He gets a beer while messaging on his phone consistently. Harry avoided you for the rest of the hour. Two more people came in and he busied himself with their orders and paid attention to only them. You wondered if he was going to stay and close with you tonight or if the encounter was awkward enough to make him go home early.
You take a deep breath before trudging away into the back room to start your close, careful to not slip on any ice because you knew Harry wouldn’t be there this time to catch you.
Once the doors were finally locked, you were able to start mopping in front of the bar. The chairs were all flipped and the tables and booths were all sanitized. You peered through the windows as a few people walked by, the mophead gliding easily along the floor. When you were finished, you tried not to think about where Harry was. You’re not sure if he had left for the night because you’ve been in the front and he’s been in the back. As you drag the mop into the back room with its bucket, you witness Harry unbuttoning his vest. Your traitorous heart thumped and your lady parts still ached, even if you were upset he’d been avoiding you without a valid reason. What did he not have control over? Himself? You wanted him to explain everything to you.
“I don’t like this, Harry.”
“What?” he croaked, voice seemingly dry from talking the previous hour.
“You avoiding me,” You took a deep breath, “What do you not have control over?” You saw his jaw visibly tense at the question, but that only made you more curious.
“I can’t do this tonight,” Once his vest was off, he was trying to push past you in the small room, but you shuffled to the side to block him. He was not walking away easily this time.
“No, you’re not avoiding me again. Harry, be an adult, would you?”
“You’re the one that’s blockin’ the doorway like a child so I can’t leave.”
“Well, if you just explained yourself maybe I would usher you to the exit myself,” You crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest. Harry hated that his eyes were attracted to your pushed-up breasts, practically calling out to him. This was his breaking point. This is exactly what he knew would happen. He knew you would ask him a million questions until you found your in-depth answer. He let one admission slip and suddenly he was being bombarded with questions that even he didn’t have the answers to. He was afraid he’d say the wrong thing, and then everything between you would be ruined.
Maybe he would just quit and become a full-time pornstar.
“Why do you stay an extra hour every night to help me close? Because I know you’re not getting paid for it.”
“Maybe I just like helpin’ out.”
“You only do it with me, don’t you? And now you’re avoiding me–”
“Fuck, ‘cause I’m drawn to you, Y/N! I can’t help it. I want to spend more time with you than a single shift. I’m selfish. Have you seen yourself? You walk around like you own this damn place and it has everyone fallin’ onto their knees for ya. You should’ve heard what these guys were sayin’ ‘bout you,” he laughs in the depressing, forced kind of way, “and tonight when you came in with your glitter and your makeup and your tits pouring out of your shirt, you made me think and feel things I can’t say out loud. It feels wrong. That’s why I’ve been avoiding you.”
With a frozen body, you were speechless. The silence that surrounded you both was so deafening that you could barely hear your drumming heart beating in your ears. Your mouth was slacked open, your lips formed in a forever “o” shape. Harry’s words were rushed and tense as if he couldn’t quite get them out right, but he couldn’t have explained it better. While you were starstruck by his admission, he brushes past your still body and exits the back room. You don’t even turn around in time because when you do, you don’t hear the click of his footsteps in the lobby but the plush closing of the back door.
The next morning was awful. You could barely sleep due to Harry’s words echoing in your head like a wincing ache, so you were dragging yourself out of bed once your alarm rang at 6 am. Your morning routine felt more mundane than usual as your eyes threatened to shut every few seconds.
As you finally trudged to campus, the curious cat in you kept wandering back to thoughts of Harry. You wondered what he was doing right now in the middle of the day. Did he have another job? Was he hanging out with friends? Family? At one point during your friendship, you had assumed he had a girlfriend because how could he not? A handsome bartender with enough charm to swoon both men and women in a filled ballroom surely would be taken. But after his confession last night, you knew Harry was consumed in a different concept. Maybe Harry didn’t like to date. Maybe he just liked being with women (and maybe men) in an intimate way casually without settling. You weren’t like that. You liked commitment and routine and being steady. That’s why it was unbelievably stressful for your car to break down randomly; it interrupted your plans. So maybe that’s why you couldn’t respond to Harry after his acknowledging words last night–you haven’t had time to process the underlying meaning of his words. You also knew deep down that if Harry only wanted you for sex, you would get hurt in the end. You weren’t one for casual sex because you knew you would get attached. That’s why you have remained such self-control around Harry.
Did he feel that way too?
When you got to the doors of your lecture room, your thoughts became misty in your mind. You push open the door to an empty classroom. You blink away the fatigue in your eyes, thinking your deliriousness has you seeing things–or lack thereof. But when you rub them harshly, the room remains peopleless and you wonder just what you missed. You yank your phone from your pants pocket and tap open your email app. And of course, the most recent and unread email is from your professor last night. He mentions that class would be canceled tomorrow due to a family emergency that happened that evening. At that time, you were too busy drowning in your own overthinking to even check your phone the whole night. As a grumble mixed with a sigh leaves your lips, you plod back to your tiny dorm and hope that your roommates aren’t there. You needed to let off some steam. And you knew just how.
Out of all the days in the week, Thursday has always been Harry’s day off. He never works on Thursday or hangs out with his friends because they have work, so it’s just a nothing day for him. Some weeks he uses this day to film new content, but after last night’s incident, he can’t think straight. He hasn’t stopped thinking of you and your lack of words from his admission. And it’s killing him. He wishes you would have said something, anything, rather than just standing still with your mouth wide enough to slip his cock through. His mind keeps coming up with randomized scenarios of what-ifs and it’s enough to make him go mad.
And then there’s the dirty, animalistic part of him that cannot forget how good you looked with your barely buttoned shirt and your wild lipstick. He wanted to kiss you until you were both covered in the red paint. He wanted to tear your uniform so roughly that the buttons would break off completely and you’d never be able to wear that excuse for a shirt again. He wanted to corner you in the back room and show you how much he wanted you and how much he hated avoiding you. But he needed to. For his sake and yours.
Instead of filming one of his requested videos, he just scrolls through the website. Harry doesn’t feel guilty about it because he keeps telling himself that today is his day off and he deserves to take a break. But even with those reminders his brain is running a million miles an hour, chasing you and the what-ifs that lingered on your tongue last night. Even when he tried his very best, he couldn’t stop thinking about you in his subconscious. So as he deepened his search throughout the site, he didn’t even comprehend that he was looking for someone that resembled you.
He seeked various videos until he found an account that drew him in, similarly to how you do on a daily basis. With curiosity, he clicks on the profile before him, reading and watching bits and pieces before indulging. The username was babyh0ney and that alone caught his eye. The girl didn’t say much about herself on her profile, but based on the cover of the videos, she looked young. He couldn’t see her face, which he respected, but still decided to click on a video.
Indulging in her top video, Harry watches with an open mind. But he learns it is extremely difficult when he keeps relating things back to you. He swears at one point you mentioned to him that your bed was a light shade of pink, but he could be imagining it. The sight of the woman’s bare chest has Harry’s gaze locked because he swears that’s what yours would look like if he ever saw them. The peek of hair that rests on her shoulders seems to be the same as yours, too. As the woman drags her hand down her body and towards her panties, Harry starts to feel dizzy with arousal. No one has been able to turn him on as much as you since you’ve been working with him, so the fact that his woman is able to do just that surprises him. He takes the opportunity without questioning and immediately starts palming himself over his loose shorts.
The woman continues to tease herself by rubbing her delicate fingers over her red panties–of course they’re red, Harry thinks. Only the most seductive color. Temptingly, she nudges the tip of her finger into the lace, teasing the audience with her edging. But that draws Harry’s eyes more than he thought. Removing his hand from his throbbing cock, he pauses the video when the woman’s hands are in full view. He zooms in and recognizes the color of the woman’s nails; white and yellow. But not just any woman now, no.
It was you. Harry was sure of it.
As if Harry thought he was dizzy before, he was fully nauseous with shock and arousal now. His eyes can barely believe the sight before him, consuming the video as if it will flash away any second. He rips off his shorts quickly and has his bare cock in his hand in mere seconds. Milliseconds even. His tip was viciously leaking, the slit pulsing and pink. After what felt like ages you finally, slowly and cautiously, remove your underwear. You spread your legs wide enough so Harry (and the audience) can see your fluttering cunt, naked and needy.
God, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life. Is it possible to die from a neverending erection?
“Fuck,” You moaned through Harry’s laptop as your painted fingers rubbed generous circles over your throbbing clit. The one word and Harry’s hand was gliding speedily over his cock, wasting no time in the world. Usually, Harry likes to take his time and even tease himself a bit, but with the sight of your gorgeous body straight in front of his greedy eyes, he couldn’t tear away. He couldn’t halt the dangerously quick movement of his hand going up and down on his shaft, chasing a high he’s wanted to for so long. Just as you slip a finger into your cunt, Harry spurts out his selfish orgasm, ropes of white splattering over his tattooed stomach. He barely comprehended calling out your name as he came, and even though it was heedless, he doesn’t regret it. That was one of the most relieving finishes he’s ever had, yet it still felt incomplete somehow, like there was something missing.
He knew deep down inside that he would never truly be sedated until you were physically with him, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. At least any time soon. So for now, this was the best he was going to get.
But that didn’t stop him from going through your account. Harry watched two more videos–without touching himself surprisingly–before he got the courage to message you. His cock was plump and insatiable, wetness dribbling at his tip. He shakily clicked on your profile’s messaging box before asking for a request. He doesn’t second-guess himself because he knows he would never send it if he did that. So with lust as his guide, he hits send.
DaylightDaddy [verified]: Hi I just saw some of your videos and I was impressed.
Impressed? That’s what he calls the incessant throb of his dick? Why did he start off like that?
Harry knows that he has more of a page than some small influencers on this site, including you. He hopes that you’ll be more inclined to respond because he’s verified. But he then realized that you might not even be online to see it. He knows that you don’t work today, but it is the middle of the day and you’re probably doing something much more important than–
babyh0ney: really? thank you so much. i’m a fan of your work myself…
Harry felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. You were a fan of him? You watched his videos? Did you know it was him like he knew it was you?
DaylightDaddy [verified]: Really?
babyh0ney: yes
babyh0ney: i wish i could attract the people like you do
DaylightDaddy [verified]: I’d be happy to help
What was he suggesting? Harry didn’t even know what he was typing. His fingers were moving faster than his logic.
babyh0ney: how do i become more attractive?
Harry nearly laughs at that. You were one of the more alluring people he’s ever seen or met, including all the celebrities he’s watched in movies. You were different. The best kind of different.
With the protection of his own screen and the chance you don’t know who you’re actually talking to, Harry responds with confidence.
DaylightDaddy [verified]: Honey, you’re one of the most attractive women on here
Your heart skips an unexpected beat from the words on the screen. You weren’t naive. It was obvious this man was flirting with you, but why? To ask for a request for free? To do a collaboration? There is no way this man, a verified star with devilish talent and tattoos galore, would want to do a video with you. In a strange way, you were extremely attracted to him. You weren’t lying when you said you had been a fan of him. In the back of your mind and deep in your soul he resembled Harry in the slightest, mainly from the placement of his tattoos. Some tattoos looked just like Harry’s, but you refused to stare long enough to fantasize.
Unsure of how to reply, you deflect.
babyh0ney: thank you…but have you seen the women on here?
DaylightDaddy [verified]: Yes, that’s how I know I’m right
A heated rush flows through your skin and bundles in your cheeks. You never realized how touch-starved, horny, and lonely you were until some random guy on the internet made you blush. What has the world become?
babyh0ney: but you haven’t even seen my face
Without even trying, you confirmed Harry’s assumption. There was no way you knew it was him you were messaging. Should he spill the beans and admit that he’s seen your face? Or should he play it cool? Well, one is going to make him sound like a stalker, so he might want to go with the ladder.
DaylightDaddy [verified]: I don’t need to. I just know
babyh0ney: why are you really texting me? it doesn’t seem like you want a request…
It was so like you; to ask a serious question when Harry was trying to flirt. You always have to know every little detail. Harry had a love-hate relationship with the fact.
Suddenly, like a lightbulb over his head, Harry had an idea. Something that would benefit both of you, and something that might make Harry feel a little less selfish.
DaylightDaddy [verified]: I do
DaylightDaddy [verified]: But you said you wanted to appear more attractive and I can help
DaylightDaddy [verified]: So what is your favorite thing to do?
You blink at the screen before you. No one’s ever asked what you liked before. It’s always what they want, and if it was something that you refused to do then they just left the conversation. Simple as that. But this person was different. Maybe it was because he was in the industry himself and he knows what it’s like to receive random requests. Whatever his reason for it, you were slightly more confident.
babyh0ney: well i like to use my toys in my requests so the videos aren’t as long
DaylightDaddy [verified]: Favorite toy?
babyh0ney: my bullet because it makes me come fast
babyh0ney: but i haven’t used it in a video yet
Harry could barely type. The swelling of his cock was overwhelming. He couldn’t stop imagining you on your light pink bed sheets, all spread out and wide, with a small, vibrating bullet lodged into your sopping cunt. He roughly palms down on his bulge to ease the immense ache.
Before Harry even had the chance to respond, you sent another message.
babyh0ney: i sent you a video if you want
babyh0ney: and you could give me some advice?
Harry’s inkling of a plan seemed to be setting into motion, and he didn’t even have to roll the ball much. He’s glad that you’re the one suggesting the video more than he is because it proves that you want it. Maybe not as much as he does, but the desire is there. He feels that familiar tug of attraction between you both, and he wonders if that feeling is traveling through the technology.
DaylightDaddy [verified]: Perfect. Just do exactly what you do.
DaylightDaddy [verified]: Let me send you the money first
babyh0ney: but you’re helping me
DaylightDaddy [verified]: Honey, you know I got the money
DaylightDaddy [verified]: I asked for a request
babyh0ney: but this is different
You’re still not going to take his money? Are you just universally stubborn?
DaylightDaddy [verified]: Why are you so stubborn?
Harry doesn’t realize it until after he sent it that that message may sound a bit personal. How is he to know how stubborn you are if he didn’t actually know you as a person?
babyh0ney: you don’t even know me
babyh0ney: so i guess i can take your money lol
Harry sends the money with ease and no regret. He has been waiting the past week to be able to send you that money so you can finally get your fucking car fixed. But like he mentioned, you’re just too damn stubborn to accept the money from anyone. But when it’s a stranger that you’ll never talk to again on a porn website, it’s fine…
Harry knows that you won’t receive his money until after you send the video, so he waits impatiently. After a minute, he forces himself to leave the chat. He scrolls down your page, mesmerized by your beauty on the covers. But he’s also a little ashamed. He’s ashamed that he is doing this in order to talk to you because he’s afraid of what you will and won’t say in real life. He’s ashamed that he’s been avoiding you because he feels so strongly about you that it makes his insides nearly explode, but in the greatest way possible. It’s insane for him to admit that to himself, but it’s true.
He likes you.
Did you take a risk? Yes. Are you fucking insane for it? Yes with a side of fucking yes.
It’s been a half an hour since you texted DaylightDaddy. But you’re just so fucking nervous for some reason. At first, you tried to use the bullet like you would as if you were recording, but you could not concentrate for the life of you. Your fingers were trembling, your stomach was too tight, and your mind was a wandering catastrophe.
Because of your incessant craziness, you strolled through the man’s account. You should have been focusing on sending him his requested video that he paid for, even though he was supposed to be helping you. You could have at least given him a discount, but you didn’t feel like arguing for once. In that way, he reminded you of Harry.
Harry.
Even throughout the whole interaction with this random stranger, you were still finding subtle ways to relate them back to Harry. Some of the things the guy said seemed like such a Harry thing to say and you hated your mind for always resorting back to him like it was the only thing you knew. Why did he have to invade your mind and why did you want him to stay in it? It was the endless toxic loop that you were trapped in. It’s been one day since you’ve seen Harry, but it feels wrong after last night. Everything feels wrong and empty and unsaid. So much unsaid. You wanted him so badly to admit to you why he was doing what he was doing, and when he did, what did you do? Freeze up and panic? He was being vulnerable, and you just stood still and watched him leave.
A regretful tremble jerks your bottom lip and you feel the urge to cry. Not of sadness but of frustration with yourself. Harry is one of the greatest guys you’ve ever met and of course, you find a way to fuck it up somehow.
And although you want to push away the thoughts completely and focus on this requested video, the mystery man reminds you a lot of Harry. Like scary similar. Those tattoos were burning in your eyes, pulling you to look at them. Breaking some self-control, you watch one video. Just a short one. One where his tattoos are in full view, so your insatiable mind could be greedy and get off to this video of lookalike Harry for your flirty customer.
You fast forward until the man’s hands are on his cock, stroking all its thickness with precise teasing. As your waste of space panties start to get wet, your eyes immediately hook on the tattoos on his hands. A cross right by his thumb. You pause the video where his arm is in full view.
No fucking way.
There is no fucking way that’s Harry. What are the chances? Impossible, that’s what they are. Maybe this man just had the same under his index finger and near his thumb. Maybe he had the same anchor adorning his wrist like a large bracelet. Maybe…
Maybe you need to realize this is fucking Harry. And he found you somehow. Does he know it’s you?
With shaky fingers, you finally send the video.
You feel your heart plummet, the few seconds that passed already make you anxious. You had recorded the video, just like you were going to. Except you didn’t do it for DaylightDaddy. No, you did it for Harry.
What if you were wrong? What if it wasn’t Harry?
Is it possible to get sued for talking and moaning another guy’s name to a customer? You might just find out.
babyh0ney: *Video Attachment*
With shaky fingers, he finally presses play.
Harry’s head is dizzy with lust and his body is flooded with arousal. He watches intently as your body comes into view, nothing but panties on. Your camera is angled directly between your legs, so he can only see the underside of your breasts.
With lust bubbling in his eyes, Harry locks on your every move. Your hand massages all over your skin, exploring like Harry would die to do. Your nail polished fingers skim over the black laced panties, teasing your hidden opening. Harry is all for teasing and edging, but this is the most difficult thing he’s ever done. It’s physically and mentally hard to not orgasm on the spot. He will come when you come.
His hand drifts gently over to his own cock, which has greedily come once to your videos. When you go slow, he goes slow, so every minor and delicate movement you make, he replicates and it’s killing him. Finally, after what felt like a decade of torture, you shred your panties off slowly but surely.
Harry’s breath gets caught in his throat at the sight. He had already seen what your body looks like, but it was different knowing this video was just for him. Well, DaylightDaddy. The feeling in him was something primal. He loved knowing that this–all of you–was just for him. He wanted that all the time. He wanted you.
While Harry is copying your motions and lost in his own admissions, he barely notices you grabbing the small pink bullet and turning it on. You gently collect some of your wetness that was leaking out and cover the vibrator. Harry groans to himself at the lewd sight before him; he never imagined you would be such a dirty girl, but he never does know with you.
As you insert the bullet, a loud, breathless moan rolls out from your tongue. He’s mesmerized as your cunt clenches tightly around the object, body consuming the intense feeling. Based on your trembling body and echoing moans, you were going to come soon too. Your sounds were spurring him on, making his hand fly brisker up and down his shaft until his release was near. He didn’t want to close his eyes, but if he imagined your noises good enough, he could translate them as moans of his name.
“Harry…”
Yeah, that sounded like a dream. Like heaven coming from your pouty lips that he thinks about kissing way more than he should.
“Fuck, Harry.”
It almost sounds real. That’s how he knows he’s consumed in you too much for his own good.
“I wish you were here with me…touching me.”
Wait.
When he opens his eyes, you are still on his screen, moaning and falling apart in front of him just like before. But when he replayed the video a few seconds back, you really were saying those things. You were outright moaning his name, chanting it like a fucking mantra, while holding your legs wide open. It was a fever dream, a wet dream. You were lying on your bed with your cunt bare and soaked, whimpering his name and wishing he was there with you.
Losing all form of restraint, Harry fists his cock like never before. His thumb teases his leaking tip for a moment before jacking off with no regret. He feels his balls quickly tense, just like all the muscles in his body at the sight and sound of you.
Your dainty hand floats down to your throbbing clit, rubbing in tight circles in order to get to your high. The arch in your back becomes more prominent and your moans transform into airy gasps when the vibrations become nearly too much.
“I’m gonna come, H. Let me come.”
“Fuck. Let it go. Let it all go, Honey,” he didn’t even think about the words that were leaving his lips. The small nickname was cute. It matched your profile and the sweetness of all you were. You were talking to him as if he would say something back, so he did. He responded as if you were going to listen to him, and he didn’t know if you would, but you did.
Cum spurted from his cock intensely, splattering onto his breathless body and decorating his tattoos. He peeks at his computer screen and watches your orgasm spill out of you heavenly around the bullet. With big breaths, you eventually reach over to your phone and cut the recording, still hiding your face. Stunned to completion, Harry mindlessly reaches over to his nightstand to wipe himself down.
Somehow, some way, you knew it was him. He knew it was you. Harry had a feeling that you knew he knew it was you. So, with some sudden clarity, Harry finally messages you back.
DaylightDaddy [verified]: What are you doing to me?
i decide to leave for months, drop this chunk of writing, and leave y’all on a cliffhanger… sorry not sorry!! :D
part two
taglist:
@likeapplejuicenpeach @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @whoreonmondays @armystay89
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talesof-old · 7 months ago
Text
weakness | r.l.
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pairing(s): remus lupin x plus size!fem!reader, background poly!marauders x reader
warning(s): 18+, smut, don’t look too closely at the grammar i wrote this in one sitting, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, remus cums in his pants, poly relationship mention, i really think that’s all; not proofread or edited
a/n: it’s a crime i’ve never written for one of my first fictional crushes of ever
word count: 1k
masterlist
remus is distracting, as always
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There were several things you liked to pretend didn’t affect you.
The daily weather. Despite your adoration for storms and the feeling of raindrops on your cheeks, it cast a gloomy mood over you all day. You never could shake the way it cast you far into the depths of your mind.
Bad sleep. The too familiar feeling of grogginess and misery clawing at your twitching eyelids until it drove you mad was enough for anyone to lash out.
Remus Lupin. You liked to pretend he didn’t have any power over you, but if you were honest, he could do just about anything and you’d be falling to your knees. Thankfully, the feeling was mutual.
Your heart pounded as Remus’ large hands found purchase on the soft meat of your thighs, fingertips digging into the plush skin. It was his idea to stop by his dorm before heading to the library. Now you watched him with greedy eyes and a hammering heart. “You seem quite eager, love. Should I be concerned you’ll steal me away from my afternoon plans?”
His answering grin was enough to have you swooning, his cheek resting against your knee to nudge your legs apart. “Can’t say I’d mind.”
You complied, scooting forward until your pussy was exposed to him. Remus pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. His big, honey colored eyes made brief contact with yours before they dipped low.
In a matter of seconds his left hand was parting the lips of your cunt and he swiped a dangerous tongue over the folds. You whined, jolting at the sharp pleasure as he sucked and licked like a man starved. Your hands wove through his brown curls. He hummed at the feeling. You choked on a moan, a breathless laugh tumbling past your lips.
“You’re insatiable.”
He chuckled, the vibrations shooting through your nerves like lightning. You gasped, tugging on his hair, entirely unsure if you could handle it if he continued. His nose bumped your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily, an ache forming in between your hips.
Remus kept up his actions, his tongue occasionally dipping into the warm heat of your cunt. Your eyelids fluttered, a quiet moan following.
“Please, Rem, please-“
He pulled away, chin shiny and lips twisted into a mocking pout. “Can’t handle it, dove?” You whined, tugging him up toward you. He groaned softly as he stood, knees cracking and body sore. You leaned back on the bed, giving him room to climb on top of you. He pressed a messy kiss to your lips as he did so. You deepened it, hand reaching to grip the side of his pants and tugging him closer. He gave in, erection rubbing against your aching cunt. He groaned into your mouth.
“Wicked little thing.” You smiled shamelessly.
He pushed himself up and lifted your skirt hem, fingers tracing your soft skin before dipping into your wet cunt. Your legs tensed before you melted at his touch, body trembling as he thrusted his middle finger in and out of you, motions slow and steady. Remus’ hard on rubbed against your hip in time with his thrusts. You let your head fall back as your moaning changed in pitch.
Remus’ lips attached to the skin of your neck, sucking hard on your sensitive collarbone. His thumb swiped over your clit; the sound that left your mouth was half moan, half gasp, some weird garbled mess that under any other circumstance you would’ve been embarrassed about.
“Got my dove all fucked up with just my fingers. What would the others say if they could see you now?”
Your walls involuntarily clenched at the thought and your fingers latched onto the sheets beneath you. They were surely wondering where you two had wandered off to by now. A part of you wanted to see what would happen if they caught you now.
“Oh you like that, do you?”
A broken moan fell from your lips just as he sunk another finger into you. Your thighs trembled against his arm as the heat in your lower abdomen grew. The relationship had been open for ages now, an unconventional polycule you didn’t care to explain to anyone.
Remus chuckled at your response, choosing to trace circles over your clit instead of pressing further. Your body tensed as he added a third finger into your cunt, the tingling stretch enough to have your toes curling. You gripped Remus’ wrist with your left hand, bucking into his hand, his calloused palm scraping against your clit.
A lewd, not quite scream echoed through the room. Remus raised a brow at your still tight grip and quickened his pace, keeping steady attention on your clit. Your body tensed.
“I’ve got you, dove, I’ve got you.” He pressed his upper body against yours, a whisper in your ear to help ease you through your climax. Your thighs trembled as the knot between your thighs tightened. His clothed dick was still rubbing against your hip as he tilted his head up and caught your lips against his, his tongue swiping across your lips. You could hardly kiss back. Your mind was too far gone, caught up entirely in the feeling of his fingers knuckle deep within you and his thumb, oh Merlin his thumb-
You moaned against his lips as the knot tightened further and then released. His own movements grew more frantic, the scratchy fabric of his pants irritating your skin as he drew closer to his own end. Your climax washed over you in waves. With your eyes squeezed shut and your thighs clamped around his wrist, you rolled your hips to ride out your orgasm. It faded slowly, leaving you boneless and limp on his bed. You whined as he withdrew his fingers. A graphic squelch followed as you came to, eyes half lidded as you took in the wet spot on your hip and Remus own satisfied expression. You giggled.
“They others are gonna be so miffed when they see us.” He shook his head, dipping down to kiss your collarbone.
“We could hide away from ‘em, get some time alone.” You rake your fingers through his hair, fingers trailing down his scarred brown skin. Your clothes were already ruined, really. You could feel the wet spot beneath you. Remus knew the exact moment you decided to cave, body sinking deeper into the mattress.
“Maybe they’ll join us.”
+++
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ajortga · 9 months ago
Text
sweet
pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader
summary: after filming, jenna decides to relax for some coffee, not expecting to meet you and fall in love with girl that makes her knees weak.
word count: 1.9k+
read the next parts here! : part 2 part 3
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Jenna can remember meeting you like it was yesterday.
At a coffee shop, not too far from the scream set in New York City.
She roamed around, it was evening, the sun was going to set soon, Jenna could tell the way the sky slightly became yellow, getting the slightest pink.
Jenna liked sunsets.
She had just finished filming for a scene, her headphones were on and she needed some fresh air. 
Her noise cancellation was on, walking the streets as she felt her stomach rumble quietly, she was hungry.
She looked around for a place to snack as she looked around, a famous pizzeria was definitely not what she needed.
She turned a corner and she saw a place that was made out of caramel bricks, plants neatly outside with vines hanging from head to toe, she could see the warm welcoming presence on the inside, lanterns hung from the ceiling.
She didn’t really like coffee.
It was so bitter the first time she tried it, of course she didn't know (till recently) that she ordered black coffee with no sugar or creme and almost choked it out.
So she stopped, if anything it added less sleep along with her insomnia.
But she went anyway, the vibe felt comforting. Plus there had to be more than just bitter coffee.
She pushed the door open, a small ding being heard.
Then she could smell the soft scent of coffee and fresh pastries lingering, she felt her hands cold, but her gaze shifts up, and she can feel her whole body warm, like a cozy fire, suddenly, she felt nothing but a daze of love shock.
Her eyes meet your figure, your hair was in a messy bun, a ruffled beige apron tucked around your body over a blouse, pouring creamer in a latte cup, a flower design being made as you traced the coffee with soft hands.
Your focused eyes shift from the cup to her, she can see a small glow in your warmth, they soften as you smile, waving. Softly, but loud enough to hear over her headphones, you saying, “Welcome!” 
She can feel her lips twitch into a smile, tucking her scarf beneath the nape of her neck, it was already warm enough here.
She looked up at the menu, so much to choose from.. And so many flavors.
She bit her lip, in thought as she was stuck, there was a lot.
But so much coffee, she may have not liked coffee the best, but coffee with this many flavors could change her mind.
She was there for a long moment, until you spoke up, you were in front of her, thinking she was going to order, she was standing in front of the cashier after all.
“Trouble choosing what you want?” You ask, tilting your head.
That took her out of her trance, taking her headphones off and wrapping them around her neck. She finally realized where she was standing, in front of the damn register.
“Oh I’m so sorry, I can be kind of clueless when I have headphones on, uh, um. Oh yes, I’m not so sure what to get, I’ve never been here.”
You give her a smile, and she can swear she feels her legs wobble, she could drown in those eyes. So pretty..
“Don’t apologize, please. Don’t worry, it’s okay not knowing what you want, to be honest I think you would like a drink. I think you would like our french vanilla or pumpkin spice latte.. With a sprinkle of cinnamon. How does that sound? This is just my recommendation, I could be wrong, but I think I can read what people should get pretty well! They end up liking it. Don’t count on me though,” You breathe with a little laugh. You sound adorable when you laugh. Your lips are perfect. Kissable.
She feels something she hasn’t felt in so long, butterflies. 
You were so sweet, something about you made her not want to tell you she didn't like caffeine or the taste. 
You just called her love, if anything the color of love was on her cheeks.
“I.. Um.. Yes, I’ll take that. Can you mix those?…”She was going to say your name but didn’t know it, looking down at your name tag, Y/N/L/N. “Uh.. Oh Y/N."
“Of course I can! One french vanilla spice coming up! Anything else you would like? Our pastries just came out of the oven if you’re in the mood for that.”
You were pretty. Unlike any other stranger she'd see on the street before.
Jenna looked at the display, her hand pointing to where her eyes landed, “I’ll take one of your strawberry croissants, I never tried that.”
“You never had these? These are perfectly sweet and soft! They’re my favorite. That’ll be $8.13 please.”
She grabbed her card and swiped it, and you smiled, “Thank you Jenna, give me 5 minutes or so.” You looked at the name of her card.
You look at the names of her customers from their card, how cute. You definitely wanted her. (Or so her delusional brain thought.)
After a few minutes of sitting down and lost in her thoughts from the music, (possibly staring at you preparing her drink the whole time,) she hears you call her name in the distance.
Something about your voice had the slightest softness, she never loved someone calling her her name more than now. Y/N/L/N. Your name is pretty. It'll be even prettier when your last name is hers when you're married-
She walked up to you and you handed her a light brown tray, with her latte in a cup, the design with a pumpkin with a small heart on it, and her powdered strawberry croissant. 
“Thank you.” She whispers, taking it gently and going back.
She sits down in the corner of the room, a booth with a pumpkin decoration and vinyls hung, she could see the steam fogging in front of her and just realizes how cold it really is.
She smells cinnamon, a small whiff of it.
She likes the smell of cinnamon. It reminds her of her childhood home on Christmas when snickerdoodles were being made.
She smells vanilla too.
She likes vanilla. She likes vanilla more than chocolate.
Her hands lifts the mug to her lips and drinks.
Immediately she feels the warmth seep through her like a gentle river, she hums at the taste.
The vanilla battles the strong bitterness of the coffee, leaving the smallest trail behind.
The pumpkin spice, she can taste it in the cream, it reminds her of fall.
It tastes comforting. It tastes like the feel of a steamy creamy soup that you have when it’s pouring rain outside. 
It makes her feel soothed. Cozy. Like she’s in her own Gilmore Girls show herself. 
Her lips press to the mug for the second time, sipping it again and it tastes so good. It’s not too sweet nor bitter. It tastes perfect. It warmed her whole body up, even with the freezing temperature.
She places the mug down on the wooden coaster, she’s never had a strawberry croissant before. 
And when she has a taste, she wants to buy the whole shop. Why has she never heard of this before?
There's a sweet fluffy cream in the middle, she can feel powdered sugar coating her lips as she licks them. 
It tasted sweet. It was light and delicious, the custard complimenting the sweetened strawberry. Who knew bread could pair with such. 
“Is it okay for you?””
She turns around and sees you, it seems like the rest of the customers had to go out before the pouring rain began to crash harder.
“It was more than okay, it was so good. I need that recipe,” Jenna jokes, making you laugh.
“The croissant is my grandma’s recipe. I remember she  made it when I first started baking in the kitchen. She thought it was so good that she had to put it on this cafe’s menu. For the latte on the other hand, you just have to know balance and what tastes right.”
Jenna’s slim hands waved a 5 dollar bill in the air, in which you immediately shook your head. 
“Take it,” she giggles.
“No, it’s yours.”
"No."
"Yes."
"If you keep it I'll give you my number."
... That was tempting for you.
“I wasn’t a big fan of caffeine in general. It was always too bitter or too sweet. I think it ruined the experience for me to try anymore. Take this as a word that I’ll be coming often,” she gave you a sweet smile, giving you a piece of paper on top of the money.
You looked at her with, a small grin forming on your face as you looked up, “You win. Thank you. look forward to you being a regular. I'll make your coffee extra lovely and sweet next time," you said with a wink that made Jenna blush.
Jenna’s smile never faltered as she left the coffee shop, seeing your number on her phone as she placed it in her back pocket. But as she tried to slide it in, it seemed a bit cramped as she took out the piece of paper that was blocking it. 
A five dollar bill. The five dollar bill she gave you.
She sighed, shaking her head with a small laugh, you were a smartass sliding the money she gave you back into her pocket without her knowing.
She folded it in her hands, looking back at the coffee shop, wanting to give it back and run so you couldn’t do anything. But as she looked back she could see the fairy lights on the sign dimming, your face behind the glass. You gave her a small playful wink as you flipped the sign to closed, your breath blew on the glass, putting a small heart on the fogginess and walked away.
Something in Jenna made her heart flutter, wanting to go to the coffee shop every day. Every. Single. Day.
But why? When she goes to restaurants she doesn’t seem excited to come again.
She could feel her cheeks heating up as she realized it was because of you. She wanted to come because of you and see your face, to see you giving her that smile or calling her name, to hear your voice as you talked to her, to see your pretty eyes glance down to her lips every once a while once again.
4:25pm
maybe y/n: sweet seeing you today, hope you didn't mind some money back, this is all i need :)
4:28pm
jenna: ooh. getting sweet already? hmmm, you're sneaky! maybe i'll pay you another visit tomorrow. (you reacted with 💗)
maybe y/n: aww, for me?
jenna: i wouldn't count on ittt but maybe it's a 50/50
4:30pm
maybe y/n: i don't think a customer would ask for someones phone number as an agreement?
..
4:35pm
jenna: you got me there
maybe y/n: i know i did jen :p
maybe y/n: don't get ahold of yourself, i still have to know you better ml
jenna: then tomorrow is set.
maybe y/n: tomorrow it issss (jenna reacted with a 😗)
She covered her face and let out a small groan as she came home, her back hitting the mattress as she looked up at the ceiling. She could feel a small grin forming on her face as her eyes sparkled, her nose scrunching.
She liked the girl who lay behind the mug of coffee.
She liked you.
-
a/n: wanted to take a small break on requests, i think i should focus on thinking of my ideas instead of doing request one by one from my inboxes, if that makes sense. requests are soon!
i'm not sure if i'll take some because sometimes these requests don't have any of my ideas in mind so it's hard to write something that feels good<3. enjoy this cute long ish drabble that i made a few months back but never finished<3
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