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erodasfishtacos · 6 months ago

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Give You Some Sugar

prompt: when yn meets h at a club and quite a few unexpected things happen in a short amount of time

word count: 9k

author’s note: hiiii. there are currently six more parts of this available on my patreon 😗

you can subscribe for $3 USD a month 💓

Y/N finally had the night off.

No charity events, dreadful business dinners, or exclusive invite-only clubs where she had to pretend to be something she wasn’t.

The smile on her face forced enough that her jaw and cheeks ached by the end of the night by how much of a farce she’s putting on.

A twinkling giggle accompanies every stupid joke that is told.

It’s mind-numbing to pretend that she is an airhead who doesn’t understand any aspect of what these businessmen discuss during their dinner.

Though she does, she wasn’t stupid and she knew that the offshore accounts to funnel tax money and avoid payouts were illegals - especially considering the fact that they were not talking about chump change but millions and sometimes billions of dollars.

As they spoke of this right in front of her, in an exclusive back room of a five-star restaurant most of the time without a care because they thought that she just simply could not understand their discussions.

YN had to drop out during her last year of college.

Her financial aide ran short and she didn’t have anything in her bank account to cover the difference.

It’s mostly why she’s in the work she does now, trying to save up to get back in to finish her last year but it’s been pushed off for a few years now.

She thought that she would immediately get out of this line of work the second she got that number she needed in her bank account, it did not work out that way.

No job she could get right now would pay even comparably to what she gets now for simple dinners and events with rich men.

Quitting this job would send her right back into struggling to pay rent or her car note, she grew up living that way.

She didn’t want that for herself ever again which is why she has been saving nearly every penny that comes her way to get a hefty enough savings that she won’t have to worry - at least for a while.

She could do with a pair of strong, smooth hands around her waist - guiding her hips into deep and playful grinds as music pounds much too loudly around them, only lost in each other.

Not the swollen, wrinkly ones that she had to lightly hold like she was enjoying them or the too tight grip on her hips when they had to slow-dance at galas with classical music coming from a live orchestra.

She hasn’t had any type of dating life since all this had started.

Not so surprisingly, most men didn’t enjoy sharing their girlfriends nearly every night.

And the term sugar baby scared every potential suitor away which had in all honesty made YN give up very soon after - realizing no matter what year it is, there’s definitely a stigma around what she does.

Y/N needed to feel young again.

Hell - she was twenty-five but the crowd she was around most of the time was sixty-five and above.

She had nothing in common with these men that she spent her time with, very rarely did they have any similar interests or something that they could talk about for more than a few minutes without the conversation withering.

For the most part - she enjoyed being a sugar baby.

It was a lot of cash upfront or in her banking app, gifts, free dinners, and all-expenses paid vacations.

She charged men for her time and appearance.

Laid out flat to them during their initial meeting - she would not have sex with them.

It was non-negotiable, no matter how much money they offered her, she would turn it down and remind them that if they tried it again, she had no problem terminating their contractual agreement that they’re currently not following.

There was no judgment for anyone who did sleep with their clients.

YN found that she made more than enough without that aspect that it wasn’t necessary and it just wasn’t for her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it for any amount of money.

YN finally had a night off where she could go to the club without any obligations, just with her friends.

No man to hang onto, to follow around like a puppy, or to always have a fresh drink in hand for them.

Sophie was behind her, one hand on her waist and a drink in her other as they swayed together - always scoping out the people around them and having enough fun with each other to let the night fly by.

Until was a beefy, meathead starts checking Sophie out from a barstool.

His eyes were watching her friend with a focused smirk on the corner of his lips, and his foot was tapping against the floor in rhythm to the music that was pumping through the club.

“You have a suitor!” YN shouts over the music, subtly nodding toward the man who her friend hadn’t noticed yet.

He was Sophie’s type to the tee with a flannel button-up, some type of cowboy boot, and beard.

Her friend makes eye contact with the man finally, after he’d been waiting for her to finally notice and now he takes it as permission to get up from the bar stool to stride over to her and ask her for a dance.

YN leaves them to it, not wanting to block a chance of Sophie having some luck finding someone to go home with tonight after she’d been complaining about a dry spell.

Not wanting to lose sight of her, YN goes back to the bar and slips into the seat that was just occupied by the man who was currently pulling her friend into his chest to dance.

When asked, she ordered a jack and coke, she wasn’t much of a drinker which meant that she’d most likely sip on that for the rest of the time that she was here, and she could make sure Sophie was safe which would be hard to do if she was drunk.

Someone slides up next to her, bumping her shoulder harshly enough that it makes her gasp, and the man doesn’t even apologize before he’s grabbing the bartender’s attention with an obnoxious, rude snap of his fingers, “Make that two.”

He didn’t sound drunk or belligerent, that just made it even more odd that he didn’t apologize for bumping into her but maybe he just assumed that it’s normal for that to happen at such a tightly cramped bar.

After a moment, she finally looks out of the corner of her eye.

However, it’s not enough because she's surprised by what she sees and she turns her head to get a full view of what was standing right beside her.

He was broad, that was the first thing that she noticed, was how wide his shoulders were as he squeezed between YN and the patron on the other side of him.

The broadness tapered off into narrow hips and lean thighs but his body was athletic, strong, lithe, and everything that YN had been dreaming of when she’s holding hands with men who were the opposite of what she was looking at right now.

He had stunning, cropped brown curls, a bit of scruff on his face like he hasn’t shaven in a few days, and golden skin from being in the sun - not a tan he could have acquired in London, that’s for sure.

The man was dressed in black silky button-up that was open enough to display the definition of his chest, a gold cross hanging between his pecs.

The shirt what sheer enough that his abdominal muscles were being shown-off until the band of his black trousers covered them right above his belly button but enough to see that trail of sparse hair leading to it.

Her chest tighten when he turns his head to meet her staring gaze, he’s caught her checking him out, and she knows based on the way his lips turn up, and deep dimples indent his cheeks.

“Mind a drink on me, darling?” He tilts his head and smiles wolfishly, purposefully flashing a black Amex between two fingers before tossing it carelessly the shiny oak bar like it was worthless.

Show off.

It didn’t do much to impress her, not when she was constantly surrounded by some of the wealthiest men in the world, a single credit card wasn’t something to have her drooling over him.

“Knock yourself out,” She shrugs with a raised eyebrow and a somewhat bored tone, letting him know through her facial expressions that she wasn’t nearly as impressed as he would like her to be, as most girls probably are.

“I’m Harry,” he puts out his hand, rings twinkling in the dim light and a cross inked on the crook of his hand.

It was the type of hand that she’d been fantasizing about on her body when she dances with her clients.

They were big, strong, and had veins protruding against the smooth skin that for some reason made her start to feel hot because she wanted those hands on her right now.

“YN,” She replies, trying to keep herself in check.

The firmness of his grip sends a tingle down her spine, his long fingers wrapping around hers, squeezing firmly enough to prove a point, and she tugs back her hand when she realizes she has been holding his hand for a tad too long.

She has been on too many dates in the last three months to count but hasn’t gotten laid in a year, if not longer.

And until now, she hadn’t felt that desperate to change that, and didn't bitch about dry spells like Sophie did.

When Harry laughs at her for holding his hand for too long, she’s a fucking goner, and she doesn’t know what’s making him feel so magnetic.

Her body realized it as she watched his hand grip the glass, suck a thumb into his mouth when a splash of liquor spills over - pink tongue peeking out of his puffy, pink lips.

Their conversation goes smoothly and he definitely wins points with YN when he looks out for Sophie when she trots over to the bar to tell her that she’s going to leave with that lumberjack-looking fellow named Josh.

Harry had judgmentally looked Josh up and down with an unimpressed but indifferent expression before saying, “Send a picture of your driver’s license to YN before you leave so she knows exactly who you are and where you live if there’s an issue.”

Josh doesn’t seem bothered, actually digs his driver’s license out of his wallet, and hands it over to YN, who does snap a picture of it - surprised she had never thought of doing that before now but would definitely from here on out.

Sophie is a bit confused, clearly wondering if YN and Harry knew each other based on just how assertive he was being, acting like he had any right to make demands of a man of a girl he didn’t know.

“You good?” Sophie whispers in her each as she hugs her before leaving.

“A hundred percent. I’ll text you later. You do the same?” YN murmurs back as she squeezes her friend tight - hoping Josh works out for her tonight but he seemed like an alright dude.

They part after that, Sophie taking Josh’s hand and nearly dragging him towards the door with eagerness - YN watches until they’re out of sight and turns back to the man next to her.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks after the final sip of his mixed drink.

It was just the way that he was looking at her, with such intensity and interest, it made her feel like there was a hot spotlight right on her in front of a crowd, and she wanted to look away but she couldn’t break their eye contact.

“Customer service for an office supply chain, you?” YN lies smoothly, she’s said it enough times that there’s not a hint of uncertainty to give her away.

It was her go to job - she wasn’t going to tell a random person she was a sugar baby and the job description she gave is boring enough for them not to ask questions or really care to know more.

“Just a boring job in IT,” Harry shrugs, not divulging more information than that as he once again, rudely snaps his fingers at the bartender for another round before starting to ask, “What do you-“

“Are you going to take me home or no?” YN interrupts bluntly, she was never typically this forward - really she’s never been this upfront before.

However, the back and forth of meaningless conversation was driving her to the point of insanity because all she wanted right now was his hands on her and she doesn’t know if she’d ever been as aroused as this from just small talk.

No, with certainty she’d never felt this much sexual attraction to someone else in her life.

Harry’s eyes narrow at her like a predator locked on prey.

The smile that had almost been permanently etched on his lips for the last hour was gone and his jaw was flexing under the thin skin there that she wanted to sink her teeth into.

As soon as the new glass of jack and coke was in front of him, he picks it up, and takes two long gulps before the cup is empty and he’s bringing it back down against the bar.

YN can’t help it when she leans forward to brush a droplet from the corner of his mouth.

Her heart is absolutely pounding when his hand comes up to capture her wrist, eyes intent of her face as he moves her hand until her thumb with the alcohol on it brushes against his lips.

He brings it into his mouth, to suck the liquid off of the digit before nipping it, pulling it back out to rub against his bottom lip for a minute.

YN knew her lips were parted in surprise, arousal, and disbelief at how utterly attractive the man in front of her was with such a simple but filthy move - she craved more of it.

“Do you want me to take you home, pup?” Harry asks with that same head tilt from early, like he doesn’t know the answer, and he brushes his nose against the inside of her wrist.

“I don’t think I was unclear. Don’t make me repeat myself,” YN’s voice is tight and thick but she isn’t going to give him control from the start - already knowing Harry will be up for a challenge by the way he holds himself - cock sure.

That has him letting out a low, dangerous chuckle that almost sounds like a growl at the taunts, “Oh, that’s how you want it, sweetheart?”

YN was feeling brave and nearly insane with a warm arousal in her stomach.

She reaches out and runs a purposeful hand across his lap.

A confident smile gracing her face when she palms at him, his cock twitching and plumping up embarrassingly easy for her which makes her let out her own mean chuckle at what he can’t hide or control of his body.

His strong, massive hand is coming to stop her.

Her hand twinges in light pain at his rings digging into her skin as he wraps his fingers around her wrist again, this time pulling until she’s nearly stumbling off her stool but able to right herself at the last moment.

She goes forward, a bit clumsily and meets his hard chest, looking up at him. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” He warns, bringing her wrist back up to kiss at where his rings left light indents.

“Are you all talk? Or are you going to -“ Because she can’t help herself, she wants to get him as riled up as possible so that he’ll give her all he’s got because she hasn't had excitement like this in well - ever.

YN’s cut with a rough pinch to her thigh and his mouth at her ear, low and firm, “Get your shit and let’s go, now.”

She moves to put on her jacket, Harry apparently finding that she isn’t doing it quickly enough because he knocks her hands away and puts it on her himself before being led out of the club without a second glance back.

As soon as they’re in the taxi, YN is so hazy with want that she doesn’t think twice before straddling his lap and grinding down.

He’s firm, warm, and smells like he just walked out of a cologne advert for Tom Ford.

Her lips finally make it to where they’ve wanted to be all night, pressing wet kisses along his jawline, and huffing in frustration when his hands grip her hips, stilling her movements and ending any friction that she was getting.

“You need to be a good girl and wait. I’m not fucking you in the back of a cab,” Harry hisses, grips her jaw like he can do whatever he wants to her because he can right now, pulling her back with a stern look.

“Don’t need to fuck in here, I just want-“ YN begins, trying not to flush at how needy she sounds and how much her demeanor has changed from sitting at the bar a few minutes ago.

He literally had her in the palm of his hand and he fucking knew it.

“I’m going to stop you there, pup,” Harry cuts her off, still holding her chin, and his eyes are twinkling with something playful but serious, “It’s not about what you want, is it? Are you a selfish thing, hm?”

“No,” YN gasps when he brings his hand down, finding her bud over the thin material of her underwear but under her skirt, just tapping at it with no real pressure, “I’m not, I swear. I just want to-“

A sharp pinch replaces the intermittent taps, her legs twitching as an even mixture of pain and pleasure shoot up her spine, “You’re not a very good listener either, are you?”

Fucking hell.

YN can now say without a shadow of a doubt that she’s never been more turned on than this in her life.

The submission that was melting through her body was new to her.

She’d never whined, pleaded, used such a voice before but it felt natural to meet his dominance.

Her mind was spinning and she wanted him to take care of her, tell her what to do, and instead of being scared because she’d never wanted anything like this before, it felt like she was falling but it felt freeing.

“Please,” YN says because she forgets the question that he asked already, anticipating the switch between taps and pinches that keep her body taut on top of him.

Harry loosens his hold on her chin, surprisingly gentle as he tilts it down to get a better look at her, and his face softens for the first time all night, “Jesus Christ, look at you. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, you know that? Look how gone you are already. S’fucking adorable.”

She wants him to kiss her, so bad but he’s keeping his lips right out of her reach.

YN obviously didn’t know Harry before tonight but the amount of chemistry between them felt like they’ve done this together a million times.

There was no embarrassment on YN’s end over how much she was just folding for him and there was no hesitance in Harry taking control of everything.

“You’re being mean,” YN accuses as he pushes her underwear to the side, only to trace his fingertips along the outside of her folds, petting at the wetness before smearing it over her lips and leaning forward to lick it off but not quite kissing her.

“You’re cute,” Harry laughs as he presses his thumb between her folds, parting them, and finally giving a few harsh rubs to where she needed the friction the most, “You haven’t seen anything yet, darling. Now relax until we get to mine.”

The line of townhouses where Harry lives, well YN is familiar with because quite a few of her clients live in them.

They were in the heart of London, old brick structures that had five or six floors, she couldn’t remember, and they cost more than what most people could even dream about making.

It’s no surprise how beautiful the interior is, if not a little too basic and boring like he’d just hired a designer to make it look sophisticated and modern without adding even a single touch of himself to the home.

Harry walks her into the house, body pressed up right behind her, and he runs his lips against the nape of her neck after pushing her hair to the side, “Do you need anything first? Drink, food, bathroom?”

YN shakes her head, allowing Harry to start removing her coat, “No.”

“Do you know your colors?” Harry murmurs, his voice softer and serious, like he wasn’t trying to be sexy right now but wanted a real answer.

For a moment, YN blanks because of course she knows her colors, she’s a grown woman but then wants to smack herself when she realizes what he’s actually asking about.

She did know.

She tried a few things with a previous boyfriend where they discussed safe words but never needed to actually use anything except ‘green’ because it never got far enough to need any others.

“Yes, red means stop, yellow means check-in, green means good to go,” YN recites as he turns her around, walking her back into a wall, and just surrounds her with every part of him.

“Smart girl,” Harry agrees, rewarding her with a squeeze to her hip, “Not that I plan for us to do anything crazy tonight. We just met. I just want you to be able to express where you’re at and know we can stop at any time, okay? Is this something you’re comfortable with doing? If it’s not, we can totally have-“

“Just shut up and do something,” YN complains, already feeling a bit spoiled as she appreciates his reminders but god, she wants this so much - can he not see that?

A wicked smile lights up on his face, her hand moving from her hip all the way up her side until it’s resting on the side of her throat, running his thumb over the hollow of her collarbones.

She leans in for a kiss but frowns when he stops her.

“Beg,” he demands, voice impossibly deeper than before.

YN lets a surprised chuckle slip, eyes wide in disbelief, “You want me to beg to kiss you?”

She didn’t want to admit how fucking hot she actual found that.

“You’re going to do a lot of it tonight, pet,” Harry tells her, unwavering in what he’s asking and not breaking eye contact, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you beg pretty f’me.”

“Please,” She replies, swallowing hard, watching him carefully.

“Please what?” Harry replies with a displeased wilt of his lips, it’s odd how it makes her heart drop like she’s doing something wrong and she instantly wants to make it right.

“Kiss me,” YN breathes, eyes darting between his eyes and mouth, she was breathing heavily like she’d just run a marathon - sweat already beading at her temples.

“Good girl,” he rewards automatically, nodding his head, and pressing their hips tightly together when he takes another step forward.

YN doesn’t know why because never in the past has praise made her stomach flip but when he told her she was good, it felt like he’d just given her the highest compliment of all time.

He dips down and connects their mouths, it’s surprisingly sweet for a moment as he gently goads her into opening up so that he can take control, and it only makes sense that he’s skilled.

Harry’s hands are moving once again, to her shirt, and YN lifts her arms up to give him permission which he takes, pulling back to yank it roughly over her head like he couldn’t get it off her fast enough.

“May I?” He asks as his fingertips dance along the lace of her bra.

His voice hasn’t changed from the stable and calm which was the exact opposite to the chaotic frenzy that had overtaken YN’s brain.

“Yes,” YN agrees, reaching behind herself to begin to unclasp her bra which earns a pinch to her hip.

“I didn’t ask you to take it off, did I?” He rumbles as YN’s hands fall back at her sides, allowing him to reach around her to without any struggle unclasp the latch of her bra and he drags it down her arms, tossing it to the floor.

YN feels embarrassed for a moment because she was standing in front of the most attractive man she’s ever seen in her life, let alone somehow managed to get to take her home, and he’s probably seen his fair share of beautiful people.

It’s instinct to move to cover herself.

“What’s that for?” Harry frowns as he notices her arm moving up, his voice is softer than it’s been all night, gentle and cautious, “What’s your color?”

“Green,” YN responds immediately, “I just…I’m being stupid.”

And her heart is sinking because she feels like she’s killing the entire mood with her insecurity that she’s never had quite like this before but standing in front of him was….a lot.

“You’re not being stupid, it’s okay, pup,” Harry soothes, his hands coming to rub at her forearm before he’s gently tugging them away, his eyes glued to her chest as it’s revealed once again.

“This is what you wanted to hide from me and you call me mean?” Harry huffs as he cups them, fitting perfectly into his hands as his thumbs come to brush where her nipples are already pebbled from the chill in the room, “You have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, darling. God, I could stare at you forever and never get bored.”

YN has to remind herself that it’s all talk, this is what people do at random hookups, say things that they will forget in the morning because they were meaningless - Harry wasn’t doing anything more than that.

“I need more,” YN whimpers because the way he was teasing at her nipples with light swipes of his thumbs, not giving anything more than that, she felt like she was going to go insane when he leaned down to swipe his tongue around both of them to get them harder before pulling back, she tacks on, “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely. I guess I could give you a little more,” He hums thoughtfully, moving to roll them between his forefinger and thumb, giving enough of a pinch that it makes her gasp.

YN realizes that’s all he’s going to give her, a little bit more, but still not enough.

Now it’s clicking, she’s going to have to ask, scratch that, beg for anything she wants.

Even though he’s the one being dominant, she actually has all the control.

She’s not used to talking so much during hookups, let alone having to ask for what she wants but if that’s what she had to do to get more from him - well that’s what she’s going to do.

“Harry, I-“ YN’s mind blanks for a moment when he gives a particularly good twist as he sucks a mark into the underside of her jaw, “I need more, I’m so wet.”

It was the truth, she needed friction, touch, something.

“You’re wet? Why didn’t you say so, pet?” Harry teases, acting like he’s surprised by her words, “Gonna let me take this off you? Let me see what else you’re hiding from me?”

“Yes, take it off,” YN agrees breathlessly, hand coming to balance of his shoulder when he unzips her skirt, kicking it off her ankles when it falls to the floor, and catches Harry staring at her once again.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. How did I manage to get you to come home with me, baby?” Harry asks but it doesn’t sound teasing or like a line as he snaps the elastic of her thong against her skin.

YN knows she’s not in charge but she isn’t thinking before she’s stepping forward and leaning up to kiss him, her hand cupping his jaw because even just for a moment, she wants his mouth again.

He’s definitely surprised by the action but not unpleased, kissing her back and taking the lead again by moving her how he wants her, and he allows it for a long moment before pulling back, a soft smirk on his lips.

“Just wanted a kiss,” YN tells him, hand still on his face.

“Wanted a kiss, hm? You’re the sweetest thing, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles as he pulls her back in for another, brushing their lips together, biting at her bottom lip, and then soothing it with his tongue, “You’re so good, you know that?”

It seems like the sharpness from earlier, the more demanding dominance has faded into something much sweeter which YN enjoys just as much as she enjoyed how their encounter started, this was just as good.

Harry’s hand moves down the center of her sternum, drifting left to tweak her nipple once more before starting to drag down her belly which has her sucking in when goosebumps break out on her skin.

“Love how you react to me,” Harry murmurs, kissing along her jaw as he hooks the band of her underwear under his thumb, “Know you’ll be so pretty for me when I’m touching you, yeah?”

“Then touch me,” YN bites out, her arousal was swirling at a vicious quell in the pit of her stomach and she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t get relief soon, she wasn’t used to being teased like this, she was on fire.

Harry laughs meanly, hand quick as it moves to part her folds and press firm circles on her clit, “Oh darling, just because I’m being nice doesn’t mean that I’m not in charge. You’re not tough, not with that way you’re dripping on my palm.”

The thing is, Harry isn’t all talk because he finds her spot in less than five seconds when he slips down to push two fingers into her and crook them towards himself, his palm coming to lie flat against her clit to give her friction.

“Ride ‘em for me,” Harry tells her as he still them inside of her, eyes flickering between her face and center like he’s spoiled for choice.

YN doesn’t feel any of that earlier embarrassment, she feels empowered now as she bears down before pulling back up, short ruts of her hips because they’re still standing and she can only do so much.

She moans loudly when he presses the heel of his palm more directly against her which leaves her torn between grinding forward or moving up and down on his fingers because both feel so good.

“Listen to me,” Harry reminds her sternly, it doesn’t need any further explanation because he’d already told her what he wanted and the self-indulgent figure eights of her hips weren’t conducive to that.

YN struggles not to grind forward to give her clit the friction that it’s craving but it feels amazing every time he strokes against her spot too.

She’s definitely never been with someone who’s been able to make her feel like this.

“Oh, look at that pout,” Harry coos, his free hand coming up to pull at her jutted out bottom lip and drag it down, “You spoiled little thing, s’embarassing how much I’m willing to let slide right now.”

The last sentence was quieter, almost like he was saying it to himself but she can’t dwell on that for much longer because she feels the tightness in her stomach start to ball up in anticipation.

“I’m close, Harry,” YN mewls as she starts to grind her hips forward again and ignoring his prompts from earlier, she was being selfish now in chasing her relief that she’s been craving.

“Well you’re not coming because you can’t seem to listen very well,” Harry replies as he pulls his hand out from her underwear, the elastic causing a mark on his hand where it’s been stretched taut around his wrist.

YN whines when that building of sensation begins to fizzle out.

She’s never been denied like this before.

It was usually quite the accomplishment when a guy could get her there in the first place.

Now Harry was making it seem simple to get her to the edge, simple enough that he didn’t care about taking it away from her either.

“No, no,” YN gasps when her legs start to feel unsteady from how much she’d been tensing them previously, there’s no stopping the tears that are stemming at the corner of her eyes now.

Harry’s expression changes once again, the dominance and teasing dissipating into something sweeter as he brings her into his chest, kissing the apples of her cheeks as he sweeps a few hairs off her face.

“S’okay,” He simpers, it isn’t teasing or condescending, “No used to being denied, are you?”

YN shakes her head, basking in the way his hands are rubbing at her sides, massaging at her hips.

“Color?”

“Green.”

Without a second thought.

The brightest green possible.

Maybe the green of his eyes.

“Can I take you to my room?” Harry asks softly, pulling back to study her face and swipe over cheekbones where she knows she’s overheated.

“Please,” YN replies, taking his hand when he holds it out.

As they walk through the expanse of his home, up the flight of stairs, she realizes just how dressed he is in comparison to her - everything but his jacket still on as his boots click against the hardwood floors.

His room is similar to the rest of the home, barely lived in with not even a picture to make it seem homey.

The colors were dull neutrals of beige, tan, white, and not one thing that made it seem like he slept here every night - even the bed was made with tight lines and tucked corners.

It was beautiful, all of it, expensive-looking but not for a home, maybe for a hotel.

The only sign of him was the closet that was open, rows of neatly hung and organized clothes lining the walls to show that this was in fact a lived-in space.

YN sits on the edge of the bed as Harry moves around to turn on a few of the lamps before turning off the brighter overhead.

He comes to stand in front of her, his hand coming down to cup her face once again, he’s looks mesmerized by her, the way his eyes are tracing over every single one of her feautres, “I want you so much.”

YN’s breathing hitches, getting caught in her throat for a moment becuase he says it with such intensity and she truly can feel how much he means it.

It’s too intimate for a one night stand.

All of this has been already.

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” YN tells him honestly, it’s not that she didn’t enjoy the teasing.

No, she absolutely loved it.

She could imagine a whole day laid up in bed with him, letting him play with her however she wanted but now wasn’t the time, the need was too intense to have the patience for that.

His lips tilt up at that, “Don’t think I could say ‘no’ to you even if I wanted. Caught me ‘round your finger, haven’t you? Impossible not to be gone with your beauty, if I’m honest. Everything about you.”

It’s all talk, YN reminds herself.

All part of the give and take of a one-time hookup.

YN moves to begin to undress him but he bats her hands away, moving much quicker to rid himself of his clothes, and though his shirt hadn’t left much to the imagination - it’s still startling to see how fit he is.

His muscles quite literally ripple as he bends down to rid himself of his trousers, as he tucks his thumbs into his briefs, and shimmies them down his lean thighs without an ounce of insecurity like YN have.

There was no world where he’d need to be insecure, not with how defined and beautiful his body was, the tattoos just the icing on the cake to what was already breathtaking.

When she reaches out, without even thinking to wrap her hand around him because that part of him matches the attractiveness of the rest of him - unfair that he’s so magnificently built and has a length to match.

He wraps his fingers around her wrist, moving to lay her hand flat on his abdomen, shaking his head, “Tonight’s about you, pup. What do you want?”

YN lets her hand wander over the expanse of his stomach, dipping into the ridges of hard muscle until she’s met with the softer, plush of his hips, and repeating the process over and over.

“Puppy,” Harry laughs fondly at her distractedness, tapping her on the nose to get her attention.

The laugh stops when YN leans forward to press her lips against his warm skin, appreciative kisses smeared against the butterfly on his upper stomach, the light sprinkling over hair by his bellybutton.

“How-“ Harry’s breathing heavier now, voice not sounding as confident for a moment until he clears his throat and sounds more steady, “How do you want it, darling?”

YN pulls back, albeit unwillingly, and it’s a hard question.

Now she’s spoiled for choice.

But there’s one thing that she cannot get out of her head.

“I want to ride you,” YN decides finally, lifting her hips when Harry finally gets her thong off, wriggling the tight fabric off the thick of her hips and thighs before he’s adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

“I-“ Harry’s voice is unsteady again, “Are you sure? I can do the work, pet.”

“It’s what I want,” YN tells him with an unwavering gaze.

“S’what you’re going to get then,” Harry rumbles in agreement, surprising her when he sits next to her on the end of the bed, fully expecting him to shimmy up towards the middle to splay out.

He tugs her onto his lap until she’s straddling him with knees pressed into the mattress on either side, and chest squished up against his.

His hands move to cup her bum, moving to situate them just right but YN is too impatient for the careful positioning that Harry’s doing, reaching down to guide him into where she needed him most.

“Fucking hell,” Harry moans lowly in surprise as she sinks down onto him.

He fits in her perfectly, it was exactly what she needed but because she was so on edge, she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to last long because that tension was already building back up in her belly.

“Harry,” YN moans as she sits down completely, clit brushing against his pubic bone to provide the friction that she needed.

“You’re okay, you’re perfect. There you go,” He encourages, one hand still on her ass, and the other moving to cup her neck, “You’re such a good girl, never had anyone take it so well.”

A flame of jealousy shouldn’t lick up her spine at the thought of him with someone else but it does momentarily.

YN lifts up to start a rhythm that works more for her than for him, rotating her hips instead of bouncing to get him to reach the spot inside of her while getting the sensation on her bud at the same time.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind how greedy and self-indulgent she’s being right now, holding her closely, and murmuring words of encouragement against her cheek where his lips are brushing soft kisses.

“There you go, take what you want. S’yours.”

“That’s it, you feel so good on me.”

“You’re wrecking me, pup. Never had it this good.”

It was all too much, too intimate, too addicting for one time.

When Harry grips her bum harder, directing her grinds more harshly into him, more unrelenting and intense, it barrels her towards the release that she’s been craving since he met him.

“I’m….I’m coming,” YN pants out, she was sheen with sweat, the previous chilled house seeming like a sauna as her skin sticks to Harry’s, hips picking up the pace as the band in her belly releases and she’s barreling over the edge.

“Yeah, pup. Give it to me, you’re the most beautiful thing, coming on my cock,” Harry groans as she squeezes around him, it doesn’t take more than two or three thrust upwards for him to follow suit.

“Fuck, you did so good,” Harry sighs as they sit there, he keeps her in his lap as he brushes her hair away from her face and neck, peppering kisses along her sweaty temple, and rubbing up and down her back.

It was too intimate.

YN was liking this too much.

And god, that really fucking scared her.

YN’s quiet when they finally separate, Harry goes about cleaning them both up as best as he can with a damp cloth, and there’s no conversation about her spending the night because he’s tucking her into the comforter without discussion before sliding in next to her.

When YN wakes up the next time, it’s still dark outside, and she realizes that she was awoken by movement in the room.

As she sits up, she blinks the sleep out of her eyes, and her bones still feel heavy from not getting enough sleep to recover from her activities on the night.

There’s only a dim lamp in the corner of the room, it highlights Harry who’s now dressed in a pair of dress pants, a button- up and suit jacket slung over a chair in the corner of the room.

The clock reads five in the morning. .

“Hi,” YN rasps, voice thick with sleep, no attempting to keep the confusion out of her tone.

She rubs her eyes to try to wake herself a bit more.

When Harry looks over at her - well, he looks different.

He doesn't have a twinkle in his eye and his lips are set in a firm line.

There hadn’t been anything that had happened between the time he helped lay her down in his bed and now that would warrant the change in his demeanor but she already felt her stomach sinking before the words came out of his mouth.

“You can leave now. I’ve folded on the bench with money for a cab. I need you out in the next twenty minutes, I have to go,” Harry states bluntly, uninterested in her response as he goes back to his suitcase without another glance.

True to his word, on the bench in front of the bed was her outfit neatly folded and bills for a ride home.

What a fucking asshole.

“You must be joking,” YN laughs in disbelief, was she really getting kicked out right now?

Her mind was spinning.

How did they go from having such an amazing, intimate night to being kicked to the curb?

It wasn’t like she expected them to fall madly in love or for him to even want her number but of course there was hope this could be more.

She just wasn’t expecting this.

“I have multiple meetings this morning before I leave on a business trip. I don’t have time for this back and forth. I don’t know what your expectations of me were but this is where our night ends. We fucked, that’s it. Alright?” Harry’s tone is monotone, emotionless, and he won’t even look at her.

YN lets out a scoff for him to know just how pissed off she was, ripping the comforter off her body and letting it crumble onto the ground as she slides out of the bed.

She looks down and realizes Harry had slid a very baggy shirt onto her, probaly as she was falling asleep last night.

It was a Kiss band tee.

It looked expensive and vintage.

It nearly brushed her mid-thighs.

Fuck it, she’s not giving it back.

Gathering in her phone, dress, shoes, she storms out of his bedroom.

She could get her own fucking cab.

YN makes her way quickly through the maze of the rather large house, finding the staircase and wanting to get out of this house as soon as fucking possible with annoyance when she hears him trailing after her.

When her hand reaches the knob on his front door, he’s not far behind her, having the advantage of knowing his way around his own house.

“You can wait for your ride here. It’s still dark out. You don’t have to stand outside. Are you going to put your clothes back on? You don’t have any pants on and it’s cold out.”

He doesn’t ask for his shirt back.

YN laughs dryly, no humor in his tone as she says, “Now you care? I’d rather not spend another minute in your house, prick.”

With that, she’s yanking open the heavy front door, ready to never see this man again.

Before she closes it, she looks at Harry who’s looking at her with a mixed expression of concern, surprise, and anger.

It was comical.

“And I don’t need your fucking money,” She spits, tossing the bills back into the house, slowly dancing to the ground before slamming the front door.

Already pulling up Uber on her phone as she walks down the sidewalk.

Fuck that asshole.

++++

YN tossed and turned a bit when she got back home - still infuriated with the man she’d just left.

It didn’t help that he had made her feel so much pleasure and that sex had been amazing.

He had to ruin it with his shitty personality.

He really did put on a good act though.

When she’s finally up, later than normal, and stirring her iced coffee with too much caramel and creamer, she gets an incoming call.

“Hiya babe,” An voice chirps, someone she doesn’t want to talk to right at this moment.

“What do you want?” YN mutters back, sipping on her drink without enthusiasm.

“I got a last minute job for you,” He supplies, his voice a little hesitant.

Niall was the...well the middle-man so to speak.

He was the liaison between her and the men she called her sugar daddies.

Niall worked for a higher up - it was a shady business at best but they did take care of their girls.

YN was grateful for their safety measures.

Background checks, always having security on standby if a girl needs help, as well as giving the women freedom to turn down men they didn’t want to deal with without a need for explanation.

“Now tell me, why does it sound like you’re about to tell me somethin’ I don’t like?” YN replies suspiciously.

Niall wasn’t ever known to be described as hesitant.

“I know it’s last minute, okay? But a new customer needs a date for a three day trip to Milan. The flight leaves tonight.”

“Fuck no, I -”

“He’s willing to pay fifty-thousand up-front to you, plus everything on the trip,” Niall tells her and she really can’t say no to that amount of money, he knows that and that’s why he’s even asking.

She’s never ever been offered that much.

It would help a lot.

“Fine,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her face at the thought of the quick packing and preparing that she’s going to need to do in a very short amount of time. “Does he know what I look like?”

Niall had a habit of not showing the men pictures - just assuring them that the girl is hot.

Only that sometimes doesn’t work out - not when the men have certain preferences such as body shape, hair color, eye color, etc…

“He didn’t want to see any pictures. He said that he didn’t care what the girl looked like as long as she cleaned up nicely and could hold herself intelligently at his events. The man literally only wants you as arm candy,” Niall replies.

This all sounds a bit too good to be true, “Niall, are you sure this is legitimate?”

“Of course. Did a background check, Job check, he paid us his ten-thousand dollar deposit upfront plus an extra five grand due to the short notice. He provided all of his information and signed all the forms.”

“He’s dumb rich, isn’t he?” YN laughs, hearing the absurd amount of money he dished out for a three-day date.

He must be desperate.

“Only worth a cool four-hundred and thirty million dollars.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Not even joking, I should have charged the dude more if I’m honest,” Niall laughs loudly.

“Must have one hell of an ugly mug if he can’t find a girl willing to go without paying,” YN chuckles - girls don’t care what men look like when their wallets are fat enough.

“I met him earlier. Handsome bloke, young dude too. Quite a mystery but I don’t ask questions - just accept the money. He had it all in cash,” Niall tells her before adding, “I’m going to send you all the details. You need to be at the port by six sharp.”

YN guesses an all expenses paid trip to Milan would be a nice way to get her shitty day off of her mind.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

YN’s Uber gets to the private airport just a bit before six, they were already getting everything ready to go as she exits the car and thanks the driver after he gets her two suitcases out of the boot.

She always had a bit of nerves before meeting her next client, this could be a very easy three days or difficult depending on who he is but usually it worked out just fine and she was never trapped.

However when a sharp, matte black phantom pulls up to the tarmac, YN knows that has to be her client’s car, and when the door opens, the opposite way than normal, she’s more than flabbergasted by who exits.

None other than Harry who looks equally as surprised as her before he hardens his facial features once again.

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic

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clemswinecorner · 6 days ago

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Datenight [George Clarkey]

Summary: George and Y/N go on a date, without any of their friends knowing they're dating. Or do some of them?

Wordcount: 1k

Warnings: sexual innuendos and alcohol, other than that it's fine

Based on this request, as a response to neat :)

Main Masterlist

It wasn’t the first time they were out in public for a date, and they were close enough friends for it to not be seen as one. It was, however, the first time they were out in Central London, where any of their friends could decide to go to the exact restaurant they were sitting in the corner of.

“I’m glad we’re doing this. That we’re able to just have some time together, going out, that we can have dinner together,” she says, looking at the man in front of her. “Well, I’d hope so, it’d be unfortunate if we went to dinner and we couldn’t eat,” he jokes, making her roll her eyes with a fond smile. “You know what I mean. I’m really happy to be with you,” she just says, making him smile. He reaches over, their hands on top of each other on the table. His thumb softly grazes her hand. “I’m really happy to be with you, too.”

They spend their first and second courses simply talking, joking around, looking at each other. Of course, it wasn’t a date night without some shameless flirting. George looked extremely handsome in his black button-up, and god, the short sleeves made his arms look extremely good. She had to keep herself from looking at them, the same way George had to remind himself not to stare too long. She was wearing a tight-fitting, white, off-shoulder top, and god, he wants her to never wear anything else ever again.

As they were waiting for their dessert, their cheeks were a bit flushed from the wine as they giggled together. George lets out a content sigh, leaning back to look at her. “You know, I know I don’t say it a lot, but you’re an incredible person. A good shag too, if I may say so myself,” he jokes, making her giggle again as his expression softens. “Seriously, though. I’m really glad this is working out for us, you’re one of the best things to happen to me,” he quietly admits. She smiles at him, taking his hand that’s resting on the table. “I’m really glad, too, George. I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else,” she says, making a small smile appear on his face as he shyly looks down. A comfortable silence falls over them, the couple simply enjoying each other’s company and the shared feelings between them. “I’m staying at yours, right?” She breaks the silence right as dessert is served. They both thank the waiter before continuing their conversation, “Yeah, the boys went out and would stay at Arthur’s, they said, telling me I’ll have the house to myself after ten,” George answers, grabbing his phone as she nods. “This looks so good. So you’re telling me we could've had a cosy night in without the boys?” She teases opening the camera app. She looks up to find George’s pointed at her. “What?!” George laughs at her reaction, “Just capturing your love for food. You look good, you look pretty. Happy.” She blushes at his comment, reluctantly taking a picture of her plate. “Which one did you get again?” She asks, looking over. “Uh, the crème brûlée,” he says, as she takes another picture of both plates together, commenting how good it looks. He smiles, looking at her adoringly, before briefly glancing out the window to the busy streets. She furrows her eyebrows as he sits up straighter, “Is that Arthur?!” She turns around, not immediately spotting the singer but recognizing the head of curls next to him. “Oh my god, yeah, they’re here. Should I go to the bathroom and you text me when they’re gone? I have to go anyway,” she says, already standing up. George nods, still with a confused look on his face. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll text.”

It takes less than five minutes before she gets back. “Any of them realise we were here?” She asks, pushing back her chair to sit down again. He shakes his head, taking his glass of water in his hand. “Maybe Arthur, he was looking in, but I don’t think Chris or TV saw me,” he twirls his drink before taking a sip. She looks at him thoughtfully. “Hey, if you want to tell them, that’s fine with me, you know that right?” He immediately nods. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I want to, eventually, but I’m keeping you to myself for just a while longer,” she smiles at him, as he looks around again. “Oh god, I just realised… They already think I’m on a fucking date,” George suddenly says. “Well you are, with me.” He chuckles at her comment, “Yeah, but they don’t know that! I won’t hear the end of it,” he groans, making her laugh along with him. “You’ll be fine. Are we finally going to eat this? I want a bite of yours.”

It’s nearly midnight by the time they walk back to George’s. They’d spend a little while more drinking the last of their wine, conversation flowing effortlessly. With the alcohol, the giggling, flirting and touching all increase, and they’re walking back leaning against each other, fingers laced together. “I’m glad we have the flat to ourselves, it’d be a long night if I had to go spend the night by myself,” George whispers, kissing her cheek. She giggles, turning to look him in the eye. “Hmm. Luckily we don’t have to think about that, because I’ll be yours tonight and every other moment of the day for the foreseeable future,” George giggles along, pulling them to stop. They giggle as he kisses her, their bodies completely together, almost forgetting where they are. She innocently smiles at him, “C’mon, let’s get to yours,” she whispers. When they arrive, they quickly make their way to George’s bedroom, too indulged by each other to think about anything else. Their phones are completely disregarded on his bedside table, neither of them looking at it until later that morning. George checks his texts for the first time as Y/N is doing her morning routine after their shower, to see one from his roommate.

From: Arthur Hill

saw you and y/n having dinner last night, looking cosy ;) swayed arthur and chris the other way, they don’t have a clue. happy for you two, george. x

#george clarkey #george clarke #george clarke fics #george clarke fluff #george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #george clarkey fic #british youtubers #imagines #fluff #smut #uk youtubers

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norizz-nation · 1 year ago

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Hiii can you please do Charles leclerc x innocent reader and they have been best friends since childhood and he’s so soft for her and protective and like daddy and baby girl relationship please 🙏

Sure girl, hope you enjoy 😮‍💨

Just with me ❤️

Summary: you always saw your childhood best friend charles dating so many girls but you were there with no boyfriends so you decided to go on a date with a guy you met on tinder which charles definitely hated

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, daddy kink, size kink, innocence kink, praise kink

Although you and charles were friends since you guys were kids but nowadays you feel like he isn’t the kid you were friends with anymore. He’s a man now. A grown man. A man who always goes out with girls. He’s never single. But at the same time he made you feel like you’re someone special. Someone he can always trust, he can always share a laugh with, someone who he needs to protect at all cost. He always made you feel so safe. But no matter what, he was dating others that made you feel jealous but he knew that you would never date anyone since all your life the only guy you know is charles. But surprise, you downloaded an app called tinder where you started to talk to this guy and tonight was a date night with him.

You got all dressed up and left for your date. After arriving at the restaurant you scanned the whole place to find the guy you met on tinder. After a while you saw a hand raise signaling you thats him. You then settled yourself down and smiled at him. God, this is so awkward. You guys had dinner and talked a little but it wasn’t that much of a nice date. Honestly you dont even know why you’re here. Maybe competing charles in this was a stupid idea. “Hey um.. i had fun but i guess i gotta go now. I’ve got some stuffs that needs to be done” you said as you grabbed your purse and got up and you felt a hand grabbing your wrist harshly as you turned around to face him. God. He was not looking safe. You got so scared and tried to pull away but he grabbed your wrist hard and pulled you closer to him. You tried your best to pull away. “Let m-me go!” You said sounding frustrated. “You’re not gonna leave until we do something fun. We’ve met on tinder for a reason my love.” He said calmly as you started to scared.

You were a virgin. Although you’re charles’ age yet you never had sex with anyone. Your mind started to wander as you were hoping to see charles somewhere at the restaurant and thank god. Miracle happened, you saw charles from a distance and caught his eyes. At first he waved and smiled at you but his smiled slowly disappeared as he saw you with another guy. Someone he definitely doesn’t know. Someone who looks really unsafe and psychotic. Charles’ expression was a concerned one as he came to your table. “Whats going on here y/n? Who’s this guy?” Charles asked as he pointed a finger at him. You were so caught up in that situation that you weren’t able to answer his question. “Y/n?” He called out and you flinched and looked at him. “Im her boyfriend” that guy from tinder said as charles turned around to look at him and then looked at you. “Boyfriend?” Charles asked, looking at you as his brows furrowed. “Where did you even meet him?” He asked you. “On tinder” you said sounding embarrassed. Charles then scoffed as if it was just silly to him that you went on a date with someone from tinder. “But charles he’s not my boyfriend!” you explained and he just nodded and smiled. “He was kinda forcing me to sleep with him” you said, your words were like little whispers. Charles’ smile faded as he looked at you, his eyes so serious, his stare burning you. His jaw clenched when he say you so uncomfortable in front of that guy.

It felt like a movie when you saw charles punch that guy out of nowhere. Everything just happened so fast. “What the fuck man?!” that guy shouted as everyone looked at our way, gasping. “Charles! Stop please!” You screamed at him as you tried to pull his away from that guy whose nose was bleeding right now. “Apologize to her, right fucking now! If i see you near her again I’ll fucking kill you. I fucking swear you’re gonna be fucking dead.” Charles said as he grabbed his collar. That guy then got up and immediately apologized to you and left murmuring some “total asshole” or something.

Charles then turned to see you looking up at him. He then went closer and hugged you tightly and kissed your head, brushing his fingers through your hair. You let out a long sigh as your grip around him tightened. “Its okay y/n, im here now. You’re always safe with me, i promise” he said as he looked down at you smiling softly as you smiled back at him.

After reaching home, your home, you laid on your back in your bed as you groaned because you were tired as charles took his shoes off. You turned your head to look at him. “Shouldn’t you be with your i dont know 8th girlfriend of this month right now? Why are you here?” You asked. His face was really pissed for some reason, and you didn’t know why. He came closer to you so he was standing right in front of you as you looked up at him. God, you always loved him so much. He’s so beautiful. His thumb brushed your chin as your mouth started to part a bit. “Its so cute how you think you can date others just because i always date others. Well good news for you. Your trick worked. You did make me jealous” he said as he leaned down to whisper in your ear “but i know you’re always waiting for me. I know you’re still a virgin only for me and its so cute” his words made your heart beat faster as you looked at him, his smirking face making you more needy for him.

“But you’re always busy dating others. Im tired of waiting for you charles” you said as you sighed. Charles just giggled at you “you’re so innocent baby. you do know that right?” he said as he brushed your hair away from your face. “I always loved you, i just wanted to see how you would react to it. And it’s so cute that you wanted to make me all jealous for you” his face was just an inch away from yours. You parted your lips but he just smirked and pulled away giving a soft kiss on your nose. You then whined out as Charles sat on the edge of your bed and rested his upper body’s weight in his palm. “Get up baby girl” he said as you got confused. You got up standing in front of him as you looked down at him. “Take all your clothes off baby girl, nice and slow. I wanna see what I’ve been missing all this time” he said as you softly smiled at you. Your cheeks grew red as you unbuttoned your top and pulled your skirt down along with your panties and unhooked your bra. You then bend over to take off your heels but charles interrupted you as he got up and towered in front of you. Although you were wearing heels yet charles was like a giant in front of your figure. “Keep those heels on, you look so hot like that, so pretty. All for me baby girl?” He asked as you nodded. He then cupped your face and made you look up at him “you gotta speak with that pretty little mouth of yours baby girl”

“Im all yours charles” you said he smiled but his smile disappeared after few seconds. You were feeling so needy just by the fact that you were naked while charles was still fully clothed. You were wearing nothing but your black heels. “Charles? Baby girl i dont think you’re that innocent that you dont know what to call me” he said as he brushed your cheek with his thumb. “Im all y-yours daddy” you said softly as you looked up at him. His smile grew as he kissed your lips softly “that’s my good baby girl” he said.

You dont know how much but you were literally squirming for him right now. Your legs on his shoulder as he kept teasing you by rubbing your clit with the tip of his dick. The wet sounds it made was making you more whiny and needy for him. “Please daddy j-just fuck m-me please” you begged. “Are you sure you can take it baby girl? Can your pretty little pussy take it like a good girl?” God his words made you so over the edge right now. “I-i can, please d-daddy” you whined out as charles pushed his dick inside of you. Your jaw dropped as your head fell back and your grip on his forearm getting tighter. “Fuuuck you feel so good baby girl, so fuckin good” charles groaned as he fucked you in a slow pace, letting you adjust first.

“Daddy i-its so f-fucking b-big oh my god!” You screamed those words as charles’ pace got faster. His hips slapping your ass as he thrusted harder inside of you. “You’re so perfect baby girl, so beautiful fuck” he said breathlessly as he groaned more. His groans made you come closer to your orgasm as you felt your legs starting to shake, forehead sweating as you bit on your lip to adjust to the staggering amount of pleasure he was giving you. You couldn’t even tell him before cumming, you were so caught up in your orgasm that you forgot to tell him that you’re gonna cum. You then let out a loud groan as charles stopped his pace and stayed in that position for a while.

You then got up and sat on your legs as you looked up at charles and he knew what you were thinking. He jerked off as you sticked your tongue out. His groans were getting louder and you looked at him straight in the eye as he came on your face, some landing in your mouth and some all over your face. You then smiled at him innocently as charles brushed your hair off your face as he looked at you with a soft look on his face “you’re so beautiful when you’re just with me and no one else baby girl” he said as your smile grew bigger.

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

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requiemsystem · 10 months ago

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ADVICE FOR NEWLY DISCOVERED OR SUSPECTED SYSTEMS

if you suspect you may be a system or have recently discovered that youre a system, things can be confusing and hard. im making this post as someone who has been aware of being a system for about 5 years and has been diagnosed for 2. these are things i wish we knew and did. i hope it will be helpful to some of you and i wish you luck on discovering things about yourself and your system keep in mind everyone is different and systems are no exception, so what i list here might be incredibly beneficial for one person but do nothing for another. find what works for you. i will try to provide a variety of advice in order for you to see what fits you best DO YOUR RESEARCH research the disorder, try to find others experiences and things you think would help you. this is especially helpful if you are suspecting and not yet sure if you have it, researching symptoms and others experiences can be very helpful in determining START SYMPTOM LOGGING this can be as simple as "i blacked out today" or "i dont feel like myself right now", you dont have to be identifying switches or putting names to alters, theres no rush to be able to do that and some systems have no desire to do that symptom logging is useful because it can help you identify potential triggers and patterns in your symptoms. for example, if you can remember what happened before a period of amnesia and remember being exposed to a stressful event or something potentially triggering, this would be worth writing down to see if its a recurring pattern REACH OUT TO OTHER ALTERS this can be done in a variety of ways, but the easiest way would be to leave a note in a place itll be seen. for example, a sticky note on a mirror (if you live with other people and cant do this, try leaving a note on your phone in a frequently checked app) i would advise saying something along the lines of "hello, i am (name) and i would like to communicate with you. i suspect we have a disorder called (DID/OSDD) and we share the same body and mind. please write back to me in (location, can be a notebook or app etc) and tell me some about yourself if you feel comfortable" but you can say whatever works for you. i just think the main points to cover are having DID/OSDD and introducing yourself as well as asking for an introduction in return START WORKING ON COMMUNICATION this takes a lot of practice, so i always say its better to build up early rather than late. we have a whole post on it that can be found here REMINDERS AND THINGS TO REMEMBER if you do not remember your trauma, do not dig for it. it isnt safe to try to remember trauma without professionals help. if you happen to remember, thats one thing, but dont intentionally seek out triggers to try to remember denial is common and not a sign of faking, if you were faking you would know and would not be in denial. being wrong about having DID/OSDD (if you are suspecting but not sure) is not the same as faking no two systems are the same. you dont have to look exactly like some other system you know or online to be real its normal to not know everything right away. you wont know all your alters immediately, you may not be able to access (and you may not have) your innerworld, you probably wont remember all of your trauma without professionals help, etc. its all normal its totally ok to keep information about your system private. there is no need to share with anyone you do not feel completely safe and comfortable with switching at any frequency is normal, there is no "correct" amount to switch. any amount of alters is normal, there is no "correct" amount of alters. any level of amnesia is normal, there is no "correct" level of amnesia apps like simply plural and bots like pluralkit can be incredibly helpful for some systems, but there is absolutely no pressure to use them if you do not feel comfortable - grey

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carbonfiction · 21 days ago

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Soundless somethings

When logan comes home one day to absolute silence throughout your home, he knows something isnt right. He further cements that when he finds you tucked up in bed, struggling with a migraine attack.

This is something a little different for me; fluff not always being my strongest suit. But as a livelong chronic migraine suffering girlie, im always searching for comfort. This was completely self indulgent and i threw it at the wall (notes app) in the midst of getting over this very scenario. i figured I'd share in case theres anyone out there that needs some comfort the way i did when this came to be. <33

Warnings?: mention of migraine attacks, mentions of taking pills/medication, mentions of nausea (but no vomit), Logan being a sweet sweet man, Overall just fluff!

Pictured with origins!Logan in mind but feel free to imagine any version!

Masterlist Words: little over 1.3k

Logan could tell something was off the moment he stepped through the door. the lights are off, all the curtains drawn, enveloping the house in pitch darkness despite the earlier hour.

the sound of the tv doesn't play out, nor the usual music that would softly serenade throughout the house. Instead a deafening silence replaces it all.

His steps are quiet despite his weight; rushed yet carefull- calculated- as he treads to find you. He knows your home, the steady beat of your heart hushed in his ears as he strains to listen. He checks the kitchen and then the bathroom but he doesnt find you in either.

Instead, he finds you bundled up in your shared bed, blanket pulled up to your chin, a bag lined trashcan resting on the floor besides your bedside table.

There's a gentle sigh of relief; that your home and safe, as he pads over. A crease wedging its way between his brows as he Looks your bundled frame over. Your expression- that he can see anyway- is pained as he kneels carefully besides the bed. Slow and gentle to not jostle your body as his hands stabilize themselves on the plush mattress. Logan opens his mouth, question poised on his tongue, but you beat him to it.

"Logan?" you croak quietly, eyes squinted open, like the words hurt you to verbalize. In a way, they do.

"Yea baby s' just me." Logan keeps his voice low as he reassures you. His hand gently coming up and over your covered body to rest atop of your forehead and he smiles softly as you try to snuggle into it without much movement; his palm feeling cool and reliving from his time outside against your skin . "What's goin on hm? M' girl not feeling good?"

"Mhm" you hum back, eyelids falling shut again to block out the dimmed light. "'nother migraine attack".

Ah.. So that explains the quiet darkness filling, what is usually, your bustling home.

"Have you taken your pills baby?" Logan enquires with a sigh, voice low and careful to not hurt your head further as he stands as quiet as he can- save for the clicking of his knees that you'd usually tease him about- instead he finds himself apologizing.

Logan knows how bad these attacks can get, how they can range from a dull ache behind your eyes to a debilitating thump that pains every movement. That the trashcan besides your side of the bed often has a second purpose; for the days when you physically cannot move for the pain and nausea.

He knows how, when these attacks happen, even the quietest noise can make you unconsciously flinch in pain. That sometimes even the sound of your own heartbeat worsens the matching throb in your head. It breaks part of his heart every time, seeing you struggling so hard in your own body, but he'll do anything, often wordlessly to ensure you get through each attack supported with anything you need.

"Took em' earlier.. Didn't help much" you mumble, hushed and so sadly it makes logans heart clench in his broad chest. You hear logans steps retreat from the room, and you shift fractionally in bed. The movement deliberately slow as to not highten the nausea that floats over you in waves.

Tugging the cool side of one of logans pillows atop of your forehead, Its just enough to cover your eyes; to stop any extra brightness breaching your eyelids. The scent of him embedded in the fabric is comforting; but you find yourself thankful for the way it slightly muffles sound too as you listen to logan rooting around in the kitchen.

You know he's trying his best- he always does- his large heavy hands delicately struggling to maneuver around items much smaller. You just barley catch the muttered way he swears to himself as he grabs a glass out, accidentally clinking it next to another other, to fill with cold water.

When logan comes back he does so with his arms full. in one a condensation covered glass filled with water, crisp and cool from the fridge. The other is pressed to his chest and holds a box of crackers- simple and plain- and a packaged strip of ginger cookies to settle your stomach; your medicine carton then sitting atop of both.

You crack an eye at the sound of the packets as he places them down on the bed; apologizing for the rustling as you whimper. The idea of food not being over appetizing in your current state.

logan hides a smile, knowing and apologetic, seeing the grimace that rests on your lips.. "I know baby, i know.." he hushes gently, as he carefully sits himself beside you, dipping the bed as it groans. "but we gotta get something in your stomach before your next meds, y'know that."

You whimper again, pained and utterly miserable because you know hes right. You do need to eat before your next dose; otherwise you know it'll make the nausea worse. He sighs softly again as you whine, helping you rest up against the headboard.

The throb in your skull is louder as you sit straight, your eyes fully open now. the room is dimmed but light still filters golden through the fabric of the curtains. You make a mental note to purchase some blackouts when you feel more yourself.

Theres silence then, as logan watches your every move, occasionally handing you another cracker or cookie depending on what you mumble for. By the third cracker and second cookie a small protesting sound passes your lips, nausea flooding your bloodstream mid bite. Logan's hand finds your back, rubbing up and down softly hushing you through the wave, also ready to grab the trashcan if you need it.

"Just a couple more bites baby, you can do it.." he pushes quietly after a while of helping you steady your breath; urging you to just finish the last half of the ginger cookie sat in your hand. He grins slightly when you continue, bites small and almost sheepish as he places a kiss on your head before muttering into your hair "yea there you go. Good girl, proud of you baby."

For a while then, theres no movement; you sitting against the headboard and him resting besides you. His hand rubbing soothing shapes on your back.

Theres a panicked noise when he shifts, your fingers grasping at his shirt, but like always, Logans quick to reassure you. "Shh s' okay, just grabbing your pills, m' not goin anywhere, Promise"

You hum gingerly in understanding as his free arm reaches to the table, pulling your medicine packet into his lap before stretching again for the water.

You grimace, fingers wrapping around the glass as you bring it up to your forehead, resting it against your warm skin. Its cool and damp against you, making a sound of delight slip from your throat. Logan smiles at it, un-popping the little pills and handing you the correct dose.

He helps tip your head back, his hand resting over yours on the glass, guiding and gentle. Once swallowed he praises you again; lips pressing feather light kisses against your temple when you shift closer to his body.

"Love you lo" he just manages to hear you mumble into his neck. Your tone is still slightly sad; no doubt filled with fatigue as he helps you rest comfortable atop of him, head resting in the crook of his neck.

Usually you'd giggle at the tickle of his facial hair against your skin but for now you settle for an amused huff; too pained for laughter as you nuzzle closer to his scent with your fingers still tangled in the fabric of his shirt. akin to how a child clutches a stuffed toy.

"Love you too baby.." he replies softly, palm coming to rest under your- his- shirt. He smiles, heart stuttering in his chest at the feeling of your lashes fluttering shut. His cool hand soothing up and down your spine until he feels your breathing slow. Soft snores falling from your lips as his motions never cease. "Now, get that pretty little head to snoozin' hm?"

lemme know whatcha think? is fluff something you'd like to see more of?? bc i actually really enjoyed creating this <333

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fluff #wolverine fluff #logan x reader #logan wolverine #wolverine x you #carbonsfics #deadpool and wolverine #fluff fic

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brehaaorgana · 10 months ago

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ADHD money/budgeting system I'm currently using for my benefit is going well (I've been using it for like half a year now?), and I wanna recommend it.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT. 10/10 do recommend. Uhhh rambling about it and my generic disclaimers + gushing extensively under the cut but TL;DR I think it's great for ADHD ppl, I've used it for 6+ months now and I find it super SUPER helpful. also weirdly fun.

DISCLAIMERS:

Budgeting helps you understand/know your money, it can't make money appear where there is none.

Everyone should learn to budget even if you don't have much money (especially then)

This is NOT a magic trick solution. Just like everything else, it is an assistive tool. This is one of those adult things we can't simply opt out of without negative consequences, though.

My advice is based on something I am currently able to do. That is, I can spend an amount of money on this specific thing that works well for me. If you have no extra money to spend then previously I was tracking things in a notebook. So you can still do this.

I believe Dave Ramsey is a fundie fraud/hack and no one should listen to him about money.

DID YOU KNOW THEY CANCELLED MINT???

Okay? OKAY.

Ahem.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT.

It is called YNAB for short. The first 34 days are your free trial, and that is my referral link. If anyone uses it and then signs up for a subscription, we both get a month free. Also you can share a subscription with up to six people (account owner can see everything but individuals can pick and choose what they share amongst each other) so like...idk your whole polycule can be on one account. Or your kids. Whatever.

If you are a student, it's free for a year. If you aren't, a subscription is $99 for a year (paid all at once) or $14.99 monthly, which is equivalent to paying Amazon prime. Go cancel Prime and get this instead tbh.

They got a whole article just on ynab and ADHD. They also have like...a big variety of ways to access their info? They have a book, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, blog posts, q&A's, free live workshops you can join (you can request live captioning), emails they can send (if you want) a wiki, and so on. They got workshops on all kinds of topics!!

So whatever ends up working for your brain. It also has a matching app.

If you lost Mint this year they have a gajillion things for moving from Mint.

Also they have a "got five minutes?" Page which has a slider so you can decide how much attention/time you have before going on lol:

They only have 4 rules of the budget, they're simple and practical, and it doesn't get judgey or like...mean about your spending.

1. Give every dollar a job 2. Embrace your true expenses 3. Roll with the punches 4. Age your money.

THEN THEY BREAK THESE DOWN INTO SMALL STEPS FOR YOU! They even have a printable! Also these rules are great because there's built in expectations that things WILL HAPPEN and it's NOT all or nothing with a fear of total collapse into failure. Reality and The Plan don't always align, especially if you have ADHD. So it's directing our energy towards the true expenses and not clinging to The Plan!! over reality.

You can automate a lot of shit (you can sync with your bank accounts just like mint, but also automate tagging the categories of regular expenses/transactions). And if for whatever reason you accidentally do something that makes the budget look weird or wrong:

A) you can usually fix it somehow OR b) they have like, a button you can press that gives you a clean slate and archives the previous version of the budget for you.

So if you forget for a few weeks or months, or accidentally input something wildly wrong, or just don't want to look at a really terrible month anymore and feel like you need a fresh start you can usually either fix it or start fresh which is really nice.

The app also (for whatever reason) scratches my itch to have things like...have incentives or little game-like goals in a way mint never did? I don't know why. Filling up the bars or putting money into the categories to cover my expenses is satisfying lmao. You can also make a big wish expense category for all the fun shit you want, and fund it whenever you can and then you can see the little bar go up and that's fun.

Anyways I've been using it for like 6+ months now and I think it's really helped me when I use it.

#adhd #adhd money #adult adhd #ynab #adhd blogging

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thisismeracing · 11 months ago

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Die from a broken heart | MS47

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x wolff!reader (she/her) ― Warning: mentions of food, jealousy, and a secret relationship; angst with a happy ending. (3k words) ― Summary: After a fight with Mick, your secret boyfriend, you find yourself crying in your father’s arms, and it won’t take much for Toto to connect the dots. The thing is: what is going to happen when he finally does? (based on this request)

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

“He’s just a friend!” Yn finally snaps, voice getting louder and thicker in frustration.

Mick, who’s at the other side of the room, arms crossed, and face twisted in a frown, scoffs at her words just like he’s been doing the past few minutes they have been fighting.

“Yeah, but at this point, so am I to everyone who knows us,” his remark makes her heart clench.

She loved him, she was sure of that even though they had been together for less than a couple of months. They had known each other for over a year. They were friends before becoming lovers. So his harsh words and his lack of demonstrating hurt hit her differently.

Fighting with someone who won’t match your screams can be slightly worse than fighting with someone who will. Mick had his voice even the whole time, lips pursed, eyes hard. His cheeks flushed from the alcohol, and his stance wide, but other than that, he did not cave, did not scream, or point a finger at her.

“And what do you want me to do Mick? You wanted me to make out with you in front of everyone so they could record and we could wake up being the news headlines tomorrow morning? You more than anyone know how the media can be pushy, how they can break beautiful things.”

“Guess sometimes you don’t need them to break it, those beautiful things will break themselves,” he retorted, walking past her and to the door.

“Where are you going?” Yn asked, tears gathering in her eyes.

“I don’t know, it doesn’t matter to you.”

And just like that, he gave his back to her.

Her sweet, loving, patient boyfriend turned around and stormed off the room as if he was done. As if their relationship was done for.

She loved being Toto’s daughter. Loved being a Wolff, and all the things that came with it, except how her dad’s fame would play out in her life. She wouldn’t mind the constant travel, something she really liked as a kid. She wouldn’t mind the constant questions about her dad and F1, and driver X and Y. She wouldn’t mind the cameras whenever she went to the paddock. Now, she hated how her name affected her relationship. Fair enough, she doesn’t know how she would meet Mick if she weren’t a Wolff. You can never guess destiny, maybe in another life she would have worked in F1 and they would’ve met. But the fact was, she hated how she had to keep their relationship a secret at least for a bit before telling her dad. He had a rule about not dating drivers, but who was she to resist ocean-blue eyes and a dazzling smile?

When Yn started dating Mick they agreed to keep it under wraps until a month or so.

But now it’s been six months, and though Mick had suggested they talk to Toto and Susie, Yn was a bit taken aback. She was postponing the confrontation.

She hated how he stormed off. Hated the feeling of being left behind. It felt like he didn’t want to put effort into fighting with her, as if he was done with the relationship.

Ordering from the app, Yn took a cab to her Dad’s house, and though she tried to keep herself together, the second he opened the door wearing his flannel pajamas, she couldn’t help but sob and hug him.

Toto frowned in confusion but held his daughter, closing the door behind them.

Susie, sitting on the couch, got up, “Oh, baby, what happened?” Her soft tone made Yn cry harder. She clutched her dad and Toto shared a look of worry with his wife.

“Am I gonna be alright?” she whispered against the soft material of Toto’s pajamas.

“You will, baby, you will.” He compromised even though he had no idea of what was happening. Yn was still his baby in his head, he would move the world if it meant making her happy. So he kissed the side of her head, and asked: “Now, you wanna tell me what happened or want me to tuck you in bed?” Yn was similar to Torger in a lot of things, one of them being how she needed to sit on her feelings before talking about them. He knew it, but he always gave her the space to choose, either talk about it as soon as it happened if by any means she wanted a change, or simply wait for her to come around.

“Bed,” she mumbled.

She got a kiss on her forehead from Susie and shared a small teary smile with the oldest Wolff, before following her dad to her childhood bedroom. The decorations still intact, everything the way she left it.

She took off her shoes and coat, and lay in bed, letting Toto drap the comforter over her body and adjust the heather.

“Dad,” she calls with the smallest voice, yet he catches it. It’s like when you become a parent you get some superpowers, you get to hear better so whenever your kid cries from a different room, baby monitor or not, you’re able to pick it. Another thing is that you become good at telling whenever they’re lying or hiding something, that’s why when Yn apologizes and tells him it’s about her secret boyfriend, he’s not mad. A bit hurt that she waited to tell him, but not mad.

“Did he do something?”

Yn shakes her head, “It’s just regular couple stuff, I guess.”

“You came here crying, that shouldn’t be regular couple stuff, Hase.”

This time she nods her head, “It’s our first major fight…I didn’t know what to do, or where to go.”

“I’m glad you came home,” he stated simply, kissing her forehead. “Now get some rest, we’ll be here for breakfast in the morning, ja?”

She agrees, turning on her side and closing her eyes just as Toto turns off the lights and closes the door. Her childhood bedroom used to be the safest and comfiest place and whenever she got there it wouldn’t take more than ten minutes for her to fall asleep, yet it still took her a couple of hours, crying hours, before she finally drifted to sleep.

In the morning, Yn woke up to the fresh smell of breakfast and a weird car noise so close that she opened her eyes to discover Jack setting up a whole Grand Prix on her bedroom floor while waiting for her to wake up. The image of her youngest brother pushing cars around made her smile.

“So, is this der Großer Preis von Österreich?” she asked, and Jack gasped, faking a scare with her waking state, but was quick to jump into her bed, hugging his sister.

“It’s my version of the Austrian Grand Prix, in this one we win!”

“What makes you think that we won’t win in real life?” she arches her brow, knowing all too well how smart her baby brother is.

“We don’t have the best car in the grid, but we do have the best drivers, so…maybe we can root really hard and get it?”

“That’s how I like to see it!” They share a high five.

“We also have the best team principal, you know?”

“Yeah!!”

She chuckles.

“Now, let’s get some food in, shall we?”

Jack eagerly nods, running to the door, but stopping in his tracks just when he reaches the door handle, “Maybe you should…” he points to his face. “You look kinda funny…like a panda.”

“Oh-!” Yn smacks her face after looking at her white pillow case now dotted with dried mascara. “Thank you, Jackie. I’m on it.”

“I’ll wait for you,” he states, turning to his toys and sitting on her carpet again.

She smiles. Though there was a big age gap between them, they had always been close, and Yn missed her little brother every second they spent apart.

She washed her face, changed into more comfy clothes, and gave Jack a piggyback ride to the kitchen where Susie and Toto were just finishing setting up the table.

“Morning!!” Jack greeted loudly making Yn wince with how close he was to her ear. Toto chuckled, taking him in his arms and kissing his smooth cheeks.

“How’d you sleep, honey?” Susie asked Yn after she got a kiss from her dad and he left carrying Jack and a big jar of OJ.

“Ok, I guess…Do you happen to know how to take mascara stains from a pillowcase?” Yn asked, eyes cast down, voice laced with a bit of embarrassment that was quickly pushed aside by the older who hugged her close.

Deep down what she really wanted to ask was: can someone die from a broken heart? What does one do when they have no idea what’s going on? Can you go blind from crying so hard? Was she exaggerating? Did Mick have a shitty night as well? Were they going to be alright?

“I’ll get it sorted for you, how do we feel about some Apfelradln like the old times? They used to cure your pouty lips when you were a kid.”

“They would sure sweeten a bit of my mood,” Yn confesses with a small grin, and they walk with linked arms to the breakfast table.

It’s loud and boisterous, full of smiles and giggles. It feels good to be home, even though there’s a nagging deep down in her heart, a longing. Breakfasts with Mick used to be a mix of things, sometimes full of laughs, other times just the crunching noises and smacks of kisses against any available piece of skin from the other.

Susie pulled her from her thoughts, dropping some of her favorite Austrian breakfast on her plate, and Yn smiled, digging into the sweet food.

When Toto and Susie left to get some things sorted for the Race that Weekend Yn stayed with Jack to get distracted. She knew she would most likely run into Mick had she decided to join her parents, and the hurt was still too raw to put a finger on it now. Maybe she would call him later, and see if he would answer. For now, she got busy with Disney movies playing in the background while she and her little brother put some Lego figures together which proved to be a terrific distraction.

—

“Did you get into the sim earlier than scheduled?” Toto asked when Mick entered the garage, big bags under his eyes and no sign of his trademark sweet smile.

The Schumacher shook his head, “Nah, just couldn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Did something happen?”

“Love happened,” he mumbles, walking to one of the rooms to drop his things there, not before grumbling on the way about how hard relationships were.

Susie who was beside Toto shared a knowing look. The arched brows and darting eyes silently get to the same conclusion.

“Do you really think…?” Toto finally voices and his wife shrugs, biting her lips.

“Maybe. They’re good friends…maybe they’ve been more and we failed to see it.”

Toto sighs, moving the headphones that are on the desk.

“Please, don’t smash it,” she jokes, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“She’s our baby.”

“She’s twenty-three, Liebe.”

“Ja, but still…”

“If you asked me to choose someone in the Paddock, it would be Mick. You’ve been working with him for a while now, we both know he’s a good guy.”

“That’s the problem!” He points and Susie arches her brows in confusion, “I’m supposed to hate my baby’s boyfriend, or give him a hard time, but I actually like that blond Ken doll, ugh.”

Susie burst into laughter, and Toto can’t help but let the smallest grin grace his features.

“She’s everything,”

“He’s not just Ken, and you know it, Torger.”

“Well, to me he’s just Ken. She’s my everything, and he’s just Ken.”

They share a look, before Mick walks back and sits on one of the computers across from them, fingers quickly typing on the keyboards.

“You sure you’re ok, kid?” Toto asks and Mick nods.

“What do you think of dinner at ours tonight, Mick?”

The German seems surprised with the invitation but is quick to recover. He scratches his neck and then nods, “I would like that, thank you.”

Susie kisses Toto’s cheek and gives Mick’s shoulder a small squeeze before leaving to do her thing.

Later that day, when the doorbell rang and Toto called for Yn and Jack, motioning for his daughter to open the door, she wasn’t expecting to face her boyfriend with two simple yet pretty bouquets in hand and a wine bottle in the other.

“I-...I thought you may be with your best friend,” his voice is like a whisper, almost as if he was talking to himself, but Yn caught it. She was used to his traits.

“Nope, I came straight to my parents.”

And just when he opened his mouth to say something, Jack came barreling into his legs, “Mick!!!”

“Heya, Jackie! How’s it going, buddy?”

“I’m good! I missed you. It’s been forever since we played games!”

“I know, I’ve been a bit busy, sorry,” the blonde made a face and messed Jackie’s hair, before looking up again only to find Susie at the door as well.

“You’re just in time, Mick.”

“Did you invite him?” Yn asked, confused.

“We sure did.”

“These are for you, and for you,” he gives the flowers to Susie and then to Yn who takes a step back when her body involuntarily leans towards him for a hug.

“Thank you, Schumi,” Susie kissed his cheek and opened the door wider for the German to get in.

He greeted Toto in the kitchen and helped finish setting the table. On the way home Toto and Susie discussed if the invitation was truly a good idea, if Yn would be mad, or if there would be any tension in the room, but as it happens, things were good. Mick was used to the Wolffs, he felt comfortable around them, and there wasn’t space for awkward silence, not with Jack around, or when Austrian dishes were involved because Toto would proudly explain the detail and story behind everything as if the name wouldn’t do it justice.

“I’m sorry I stormed off,” Mick hesitated for a second. They were doing the dishes while Susie and Toto got Jack ready to bed, and finished some of the chores around the house. And though Mick had a feeling about the whole arrangement, Yn was sure that her parents had set it up. She knew them all too well. “I know how much you hate when people walk off while you’re talking, and I know how you hate to sleep angry. I’m sorry if it seemed as if I was pressuring you into telling your parents about us, I think I’m just…I love you and I wanted to share this with everyone, but I forgot to consider your saying in this.”

She shook her head, trying to keep her tears at bay. It was the first time he said he loved her. Upon seeing the tears finally streaming down her cheeks, Mick dried his hands on the towel and stopped them just before they reached her lips. She smiled this time, and more tears gathered on his fingers. Mick dipped his head and kissed them away.

“I love you too. I’m sorry I didn’t consider your side as well,” she admitted, threading her fingers on the nape of his neck and enjoying the feeling of his soft strands against her skin.

He smiled, but it didn’t last long because their lips found one another in a kiss that tasted like salty happy tears and forgiveness. She missed his warmth and he missed her softness.

“We should tell my parents now, you know. Since we’re already here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, they invited you to dinner after I got home crying, they probably pierced everything together.”

Mick chuckled and pecked her lips again before turning back to the dishes. Once they were done and walked to the living room with dessert plates in their hands, Toto shared a knowing look with his daughter. Yn sat beside Mick on the smallest couch, and they both looked like two teenagers about to confess they passed the curfew and skipped class both in the same week.

Susie smiled.

“I…we have something to tell you guys,” Yn stated, shaking her legs up and down on the sofa, and she would probably go round and round before getting to the point, so her boyfriend ripped the bandage.

“We’re dating.”

“We were going to tell you guys, we just…were waiting for the right time and…”

“It’s ok, love,” Susie reassured.

“It is?” Yn asked.

“Yeah, but I won’t forget you got home crying last night,” Toto huffed, crossing his arms and looking at Mick whose eyes grew two sizes bigger.

“That whole thing was exactly about telling you guys,” Yn started, telling them how everything started and how she was afraid of their reactions. Her parents listened attentively, Toto would eye Mick every once in a while, to which Susie would grip his thigh even though she knew he was just messing with the German.

“Alright, it’s fine by me, but we still have to talk, young Schumi.”

“Of course, Toto.”

“It’s Sir from now on,” he stated and Mick opened his mouth looking for the right words, but settling only for a quick nod and a “Yes, Sir” which caused Susie and Yn to laugh, knowing the oldest Wolff long enough to catch when he was messing with someone.

“It’s a joke, kid. Welcome to the family,” he got up, and shared a quick hug with the youngest, but not before adding, “But I hope to God she doesn’t come home crying again, or else…”

“It won’t happen again.”

“What are you whispering to each other?” Yn intervened.

“Nothing,” Mick was quick to answer.

“I’m just telling him how happy I am to have him in the family now, right?”

They would eventually talk more, but for now, both were satisfied where things stood. Mick was happy to have the Wolffs' blessing somehow and to share with his own family about his relationship, and Toto was relieved his daughter wasn’t dating a driver from a different team.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, honeybees! I hope you guys liked this piece. As usual, a huge shout out to C (my coffee emoji anon here on Tumblr) for proofreading yet another piece! <3 Please, if you do like this, make sure to REBLOG and leave me an ask/comment because Tumblr put me in some sort of shadow ban so my posts are taking forever to show up (sometimes not showing up at all to some people). Help your writer out and get a virtual hug *mwah* hihiih <3 thank youuuuuu!!!!

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cuubism · 1 year ago

Text

I've written something very silly. Dating apps, texting fic, crack, smut. desire messing with dream. onlyfans creator hob. trans dream. Enjoy.

U up?

The notification from an unfamiliar app stared up at Dream from his locked phone screen. He frowned, perplexed. Nobody texted him. Certainly not with such vernacular.

Dream opened the notification. It pulled up the messaging page of a dating app, one he himself had certainly not installed—

Desire. He grit his teeth. Unfortunately, they weren’t nearby to receive his ire.

Dream looked again at U up? on the message interface. He clicked on the profile of the man who’d sent it, a “Kyle” who would not have looked out of place shotgunning a beer at a rager. Of course, Desire had not only gone to great lengths to establish him on this insipid app, but had also spent time matching him with the exact opposite of his type, presumably to cause him never-ending grief and annoyance. As usual.

Dream should probably have just deleted the app. Instead he responded, For?

What he received in response, a few minutes later, was a poorly-lit photograph of Kyle’s penis. Dream pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger with a sigh. He should have known.

I have seen better, he replied, and closed out of the app.

He had been back at his writing for ten minutes or so when his phone buzzed again. He checked the notification.

Brad: you could be MY good boy, kitty cat 😽

Dream gagged, but opened the man’s profile out of perilous, morbid curiosity.

Brad, 28, Hedge Fund Manager, “Looking for something casual on the DL”, likes golf and cryptocurrency— oh, dear. Somehow, Dream doubted this Brad truly wanted Dream to become a part of his life. Nor did Dream want to be his ‘kitty cat’.

He was going to have words with Desire.

You strike me as a man who brings choking into the bedroom without knowing what a safe word is, he wrote. Am I accurate?

I can choke you if you want, baby 😜, wrote Brad. Which may as well have been a yes.

Dream did not think that Brad was the person he wanted that from. Not to mention that his utter lack of kink safety knowledge would probably land Dream in hospital, and there were more interesting ways for that to happen than mediocre sex in a finance associate’s penthouse.

I would prefer to keep my brain cells, he wrote, and closed the app.

Over the next few days, Dream fielded many strange, annoying, and obscene messages from people on this app. He certainly had not “swiped right” on anybody himself, so he could only assumed Desire had done so on his behalf and had now left him to suffer the consequences of “matching.” By all rights, he should have just deleted the app off his phone. But Dream rarely communicated with anyone, certainly not strangers, and there was something a little bit entertaining about seeing what kind of drivel was being thrown his way. Was this how people attempted to court over the internet? Or perhaps Desire had merely “matched” him with the dregs of humanity.

By the end of the week, Dream had received seven “dick pics”, four offers to share one or more of his body parts in exchange for cash, and a request to become a seventy-five year-old man’s “sugar baby.” He was uncertain precisely what that entailed, but he was fairly certain he would not like it.

He had also received a text from Desire that read, enjoying yourself? ;) to which he did not respond.

His meager entertainment expended, Dream was on the verge of finally deleting the app when he received a different message:

Hob: Do you think it’s possible to cheat death by force of will, or are you too busy craving its sweet release to consider it?

Dream frowned, perplexed by the specificity of the message. Finally it occurred to him to actually look at the profile Desire had made. He swiped over to said screen, and sighed in aggravation.

Desire had, at least, chosen flattering photos of him. He supposed if the goal was to have Dream sexually harassed over the internet, this would have been a requirement. The photos definitely suggested something other than “serious, committed relationship”, but they weren’t terrible, at least.

As for the text—well, Dream finally understood where some of the more unhinged messages he had received had come from. He read through the given prompts, and Desire’s answers to them:

Dating me is like: You found a stray cat and brought it home and fed it and you were going to take it to the animal shelter but now it won't leave. It’s pretty cute if a bit mangy but it won’t stop biting your hand and mewing pathetically. The sex is pretty good tho.

“Pretty good.” Desire had written all this and couldn’t even manage to make Dream sound like a satisfying hookup. Typical.

He read on:

I’ll fall for you if: You tell me I’m a good boy 😳

Things were falling into place in Dream’s mind now.

Hob’s strange message seemed to arise from the main part of Dream’s profile, where Desire had listed his “religion” as “worshipping l’appel du vide.” An interesting element for this “Hob” to focus on. Dream did not think it was typical for messages on these apps to open with a discussion of death.

He switched back over to the messaging page of the app, and replied: I consider death often. As to your query, it depends: are you thinking of death as an entity one could escape, or a force like gravity? Or perhaps a place one must go?

Hmm, Hob responded, good question. I think it’s like a state. But a state of nothingness. See, if I thought it was a *place*, might be willing to go, see something new and all. But what’s the point of nothingness?

Nothingness is its own satisfaction, wrote Dream. It seemed peaceful, to him. Quiet. The lack of need for satisfaction in the first place.

But you won’t be there, so you won’t get to experience it, said Hob.

Precisely.

Huh. The void really is calling to you. You don’t like experience, then?

Is that innuendo? Dream asked.

Could be. If it is, do I get to be part of the toxic codependent relationship that ends horribly for everyone?

Another reference to Desire’s profile choices. What Dream was apparently “looking for in a relationship.”

That depends on the quality of your experience, he wrote.

I’ve received good reviews, said Hob.

You’ve yet to call me “kitten,” so I suppose I must concur on that front, replied Dream.

You started that one, little stray cat, said Hob.

Technically Desire had started it, but Dream had to grudgingly admit that his profile did invite such comments.

Having a smashing time in your dm’s, then? Hob continued.

I have received several unsolicited pictures of genitalia, wrote Dream.

Oh yeah? said Hob. Anything good?

Random strangers’ genitals did not interest Dream. There was a reason he did not watch porn. Mediocre at best, Dream said.

There was a long pause, and Dream hastily added, Do not send me a picture of your dick as comparison.

My dick is already all over the internet, you don’t need to get it here 😛, said Hob.

Dream blinked several times at his phone screen, as if to clear away a fog before a message that might make more sense.

What, he wrote.

Before Hob could reply, it occurred to Dream that perhaps he should actually look at Hob’s own profile. He had gotten too caught up in the strange conversation to remember to do so.

He opened it and— froze.

Dream had already deduced that Desire had intentionally matched him with whoever they thought Dream would be least interested in. He could see why they had thought the same of Hob, primarily because he was very different from Dream. In the past, Dream had tended to have flings with people who were rather like him, in some respects. “Tortured artists,” Death would say.

This was not Hob. For one, unlike Dream’s pouty and morose profile photo, Hob was actually smiling in the first picture on his page. And what a smile.

He was handsome, too. At least, Dream thought so. Handsome in a homey, comfortable way, the type of handsome that suggested really good hugs, and coffee in the mornings, and someone to come home to. Dream scrolled through more photos, and caught the spark of mischief in his eyes that belied his easy nature. This best matched the way Hob spoke in his messages, he thought.

It was not so much that Hob was his usual type, and more that Desire had unintentionally uncovered a type Dream had not known he had. He swallowed hard. Scrolled back up to read the details of Hob’s bio, in search of answers to the strangeness of Hob’s response.

Ah. His profession was listed as “OnlyFans creator.” That would explain it. He supposed he could track down Hob’s profile on said app. Dream was historically not very interested in porn, however. But he was finding himself interested in Hob.

He moved back to the messaging page, and wrote, before Hob could question why Dream was confused about information that was clearly stated in his profile, Ah. I see. I’m afraid I don’t watch porn.

That a moral stance? Bcuz I get enough of that already, trust me.

Personal taste, said Dream.

Prefer to get it in person, eh? said Hob.

Yes.

You’d do numbers on OnlyFans just fyi, Hob wrote. If u ever wanted more cash. Or does Poetry & Malaise pay better than I thought?

Dream’s “career,” according to Desire.

He supposed Hob's comment was flattering, in a way. Is that your own bias, Hob? Or your considered opinion as a professional?

Both ;), said Hob.

If that is your situation, then why are you on this app, dare I ask? Most people I have encountered seem to just be interested in sex but I doubt you are suffering from a dearth of it.

What, porn stars can’t want to get married? :(

Dream could imagine his pout. It was surprisingly endearing.

THAT is why you are here?

Sure, be judgmental about it, mister “I want to get consumed.” Or was that about vore and I misread it as metaphorical?

Dream spluttered, though Hob was not physically present to see it. Indeed, Desire had written that Dream wanted “someone he could consume and be consumed by in turn,” which was surprisingly accurate considering its intention had been to mess with him.

It is not VORE, he wrote. Then followed it up with, I have frequently been accused of being intense, possessive, and overbearing.

Well then we have that in common, Hob replied. By the way, sex for work is not the same as sex with someone you really care about. Or would you feel emotionally fulfilled after fucking your colleagues?

I don’t have colleagues, said Dream.

Right, right. Poetry and malaise.

And have you achieved much emotionally fulfilling sex from this app?

No :(, said Hob.

You are too handsome for that to be the case, wrote Dream, and realized what he had said a moment after he’d hit send.

He panicked internally until Hob replied, And here I thought I was just annoying you 🥰.

I might be having a crisis over your photos myself, Hob added, but let’s not discuss it or I’ll embarrass myself.

We could discuss it in a different venue, Dream wrote, heart in his throat. I am interested also in hearing your plans to thwart death. Perhaps over drinks?

Thought you’d never ask :)

So they set a time.

Drinks turned quickly into tumbling into Hob’s flat turned quickly into Hob pushing Dream up against the door and kissing him senseless turned quickly into falling into Hob’s bed. Dream was feeling quite happy about his decision to go on a date with this weird, death-obsessed OnlyFans creator. He had been right about Hob giving good hugs, he had learned that when Hob had greeted him at the bar. He had also learned that Hob really knew how to use his tongue.

“Fuck, Dream,” Hob said, looking up at him, lips wet. He had his hands wrapped around Dream’s thighs and his face between Dream’s legs, and yes, Dream was feeling very satisfied with his decision, indeed. He might even have to send Desire a gift basket. “You taste so good.”

“Your mouth is ungodly,” said Dream, tipping his head back against the pillow with a groan as Hob continued teasing him with that mouth, swiping his tongue through Dream’s folds and sucking on his clit.

“Converted you to a new religion? You’re done with the void, then?”

Dream twisted his hands in Hob’s hair, holding on tight, thighs trembling, heartbeat racing in his throat. “Perhaps.”

“Is Dream your real name, by the way?” Hob asked, pushing one finger into Dream, and then quickly two, as Dream moaned and clenched down on him. “I kind of thought it was fake.”

“No,” said Dream, though it came out as another moan. “It is real.”

“Fascinating.” And he went back to torturing Dream with his mouth, fucking him deep on his fingers, until Dream was squirming and writhing under him, trying to get away from Hob’s relentlessness even as he wanted to throw himself into its fire. He felt hot, feverish, taut all over, Hob’s hands were so good, and his mouth—

“Hob,” he whined, “please.”

Hob paused, looked up at him, lips and nose wet with Dream’s fluids. Then grinned cheekily. “Yes, kitten?”

And why did something that had sounded so revolting coming from anonymous strangers only make Dream laugh when Hob said it? He laughed, a horrible, choking laugh, and Hob laughed too, incredulously. Dream could not remember ever laughing during sex, it had always been a torrid and serious affair. But Hob was so charming and handsome and Dream wanted to kiss him.

“Come,” he commanded, drawing Hob up towards him by his hair, and Hob went, and Dream brought their lips together. Hob’s mouth was slick and tasted of Dream. It was heady.

Dream wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed together, and Hob ground his cock between Dream’s legs, between his folds and against his clit. He didn’t try to actually fuck Dream, though, which Dream figured was Hob’s professional good sense considering they hadn’t discussed birth control or anything in that vein in their haste. He imagined what might have happened if he had instead gone home with Brad of the un-negotiated choking kink, and laughed despite himself.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Hob, lifting his head to look at him. He really was so appealing, with his dark eyes, hair falling long over his forehead, his voice that was much more honey-warm than Dream could have imagined over text.

“I was thinking of the catastrophe that would have resulted had I slept with one of the questionable individuals I’ve encountered on that app, and my good fortune in finding you instead.”

Hob smiled, and kissed him, a proper first date type kiss, sweet and kind. Then he said, dragging his hand through Dream’s hair, tugging on it, “Don’t think about anyone else.” He kissed Dream’s jaw, then down his neck, nipping at his skin.

Dream dug his nails into Hob’s back, into his strong shoulders as Hob ground against him. He wished Hob was fucking him. His cock felt so good even just moving between Dream’s legs, and the weight of his body over Dream’s was so grounding. Next time, maybe.

He shivered as Hob moved faster over him, claimed his mouth with a hard kiss. “Come on me,” Dream urged, pulling Hob in tighter again with his leg wrapped around his waist. He reached between them and got his hand around Hob, and Hob groaned.

“Dream—”

Dream pulled him off in time with Hob’s own thrusts, and soon felt Hob’s hips stuttering, his grip tightening in Dream’s hair. He came over Dream’s hand and stomach, breathing hard against Dream’s throat. But he didn’t pause very long to recover himself, instead slipping three fingers back into Dream, making Dream arch against him with a shout.

“Hob!”

Hob worked him mercilessly until Dream was clenching around him with a gasp, body shaking as his orgasm ramped back up and hit him, fast and hard. Hob grinned against his throat as Dream panted, then gently pulled his fingers free and raised his head to look Dream in the eye as he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean of Dream’s spend. Fucking. Hell. And this man couldn’t find someone to marry him?

Hob kissed him again, and again it was sweet, and firm, like his hugs. Dream kissed him back, petting Hob’s hair. Pleased with the position he’d found himself in. Pleased with Hob.

“Good?” Hob asked, stroking a hand up and down his side.

“Very,” Dream sighed.

“Good,” said Hob. “For me, too.”

He kissed Dream’s cheek, and then went and got a soft wet cloth to clean them both up, and even brought Dream a glass of water. Truly Dream’s good fortune was unparalleled on this day.

Hob slipped back into bed beside him, and Dream laid on his side, head pillowed on his arm, gazing at him. Tucked an errant strand of Hob’s hair behind his ear. Ran his fingers over the stubble on Hob’s cheek. He really was quite handsome, especially mussed from sex, in the low bedroom light. Perhaps Dream was going to have to find his OnlyFans. Just so he could… take this home with him.

“You really are even prettier in person,” Hob murmured, studying him. “Although I don’t think the rest of your profile was really doing you justice.”

“That is because my sibling initially created it to annoy me,” Dream admitted. “However, I think I am the one who’s come out on top in the end.”

“That does explain some things,” Hob said with a chuckle. He took Dream’s hand and kissed his fingertips, met his eyes again. “I promise I won’t break your heart. If you stay.”

My BFF’s take on why you should date me, Desire’s profile fills had read: With luck you can be the next person to break his heart <3

Once again, it had not been entirely inaccurate. But perhaps it would be this time.

“I think I am inclined to,” he said quietly, and Hob smiled, that warm, endearing smile.

So Dream did stay that night, cuddled up in Hob’s arms. Feeling all warm inside, even when Hob had fallen asleep, and Dream was still awake, lying beside him. He often had a hard time sleeping, but he didn’t mind so much, right now. Hob was pleasant to cuddle up to, even if Dream couldn’t sleep. Hob was pleasant all around, in fact. Dream tended to fall fast and hard and he could already feel it hovering over him like a cresting wave. Fortunately, Hob didn’t seem inclined to be any more casual about him than Dream was feeling about him.

Dream thought he could get used to this.

With Hob’s arm still wrapped around his waist, Dream swiped his phone off the nightstand and opened his text thread with Desire, which still had enjoying yourself? ;) as the last message, as yet not responded to.

Having made Desire wait for several days already, Dream wrote, with a little smile, I think I am going to get married, and turned off his phone.

#yes i did create a fake hinge account mockup for dream. i will share it in a bit XD it's very silly. it took me 3 hours in photoshop #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #my writing #nsft

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