#sorry if this is messy i feel so many feelings towards this video | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shawnxstyles · 1 year ago

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baby honey

OCTOBER 29, 2023

summary: besides being a friendly bartender at night, harry likes to get a little extra cash by doing porn during the day; and he’s successful. but who knew it was so common for two people who work at the same bar to both be secret porn stars?

request: @victoria-styles: “How about like Harry is a porn star who requests a video with Y/N.”

song: baby honey- harry <3

words: 11k

warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [masturbation], m-receiving [masturbation], mentions of porn, dirty talk) and language.

note: sorry for being off the world for so long… i’ll probably end up doing it again soon. but i had a day to write and i wanted to throw this out there. again, i apologize if it’s rushed or sloppy. it’s just the time i had :/ PART TWO

secret pornstar!harry x secret pornstar!y/n

—

“What’d you like, beautiful?” Harry smiles brightly, flashing his white bunny teeth at the lady on the other side of the bar. Her auburn highlights were curled romantically while she sported a tight black dress that was too small for her breasts. She was definitely a young college student while Harry was in his late 20s. Noticing his appearance, she bites her burgundy-painted lips. Her elbows lean on the slick counter, leaning forward to subtly show Harry more of her cleavage.

He didn’t indulge, but continued with his flirty attitude in order to get more tips. Charm was his speciality; it came naturally to him with no effort. After bartending for two years, everything became easy. Plus, it was fun to flirt all night long. He never got tired of the desire that flashed in women’s eyes as they looked him up and down. It made him feel confident and cocky, and he tried his hardest not to be arrogant when talking about it with his co-workers.

Being a bartender was like playing a role for some people, but for Harry, it was just who he was. And he got paid for it. In a nice paycheck and hefty tips.

“Mm, I don’t know. What do you suggest?” Her voice was high and hissy, trying to appear sensual. She slides a card toward him with two fingers. Harry doesn’t blink an eye or hesitate at this behavior; he’s seen this movie too many times to be naive.

With a smirk on his face, Harry works his magic behind the counter. His white sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, giving the lady a perfect view of his forearm muscles and veins. The woman watches his every move, focusing on the way his tattooed hands grip every bottle with efficient skill yet delicacy.

In less than two minutes, a peach colored drink was placed in front of the woman. Her eyes visibly sparkle as if she’s never seen alcohol before she sips the liquid.

“Oh my God! This is delicious,” She practically moans out, causing Harry to smirk. He loves when people compliment his craft. “What is this?”

“Sex on the beach,” Harry winks and flashes his famous grin before snatching her card and waltzing away.

His parting was almost cool, almost movie-like until he ran into somebody holding a large tub of ice. The tub smacked him in his abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. He groans deeply, trying to catch his breath while clutching his stomach for a moment.

“Fuck! Are you okay?” Your eyes wander over Harry’s face and body, attempting to recover. Hearing his voice made a flush spread across your whole skin, but you blame it on the warmth around the bar. Your white and yellow-painted fingers clutch around the handles tightly.

“Yeah, m’fine. Just knocked the wind out of me s’all,” He smiles reassuringly, throwing his rag over his shoulder. His eyes scan over your figure, just like he tries to avoid doing every night.

You had your hair pinned up in a messy bun that was simple, yet so alluring. A classic white button up and a black vest adorned your body perfectly. You wore the same standard uniform as everyone else, yet you made it look so seductive to Harry; he assumed you got loads of tips by the end of the night. Even if you were in a garbage bag, you would blow people away in the bar–men and women. He was jealous of everyone who got to be a part of your flirtatious side, but not everyone saw the genuine side of you like he had.

Another flush cascaded your skin as his eyes drifted over you and the smallest smirk appeared on his lips. The sounds of music and people buzzing drunkenly weren’t nearly as loud as the heart that was thumping in your chest. You clenched the handles even harder before looking anywhere but him, too intimidated by his charming presence.

“I’ll just, um,” You suggested awkwardly with a half smile. Standing this close to Harry without talking made you think of things. Things that you dreamt about, or things that inspired your hand to drift between your legs. The ice in the tub was probably melting from the warmth radiating off of you.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Harry shakes his head and shifts in an attempt to move past you.

You adjust the tub as he slides next to you, bodies rubbing together. His hand gently rests on your shoulder as he wiggles by you. Butterflies soar throughout your tummy at the brief contact before his touch is gone way too soon. You watch as his smile grows, walking backwards before turning around and charming another customer.

You exhale and return to focusing on your job, the bubbly feeling never leaving you.

From the corner of his eye, Harry sees you walk around the corner until you’re completely out of his sight. The black slacks you wore made him tight in his trousers a countless amount of times, basically every night. Even though he tried to avoid staring, his gaze and curiosity was drawn to you, so he hopelessly stared at your body as you strutted away. When his greedy cock twitches, he bites his tongue.

Well, at least he knows what he’s thinking about later.

God, it was so wrong. To think about you while he was getting himself off. He couldn’t help himself. After working with you for a year, his attraction to you never ceased. He thought if maybe he just got off on the idea of you one time he would be freed from the attraction he felt for his co-worker. But that only created a routine.

Harry would hook-up occasionally, and yeah, it would be nice, but nothing satisfied him completely because they weren’t you. He consistently found himself masturbating with thoughts of you on your knees. Or you on his lap, straddling or riding him. He would imagine the way you’d whine, whimper, moan, and scream for him, and these thoughts made him come hard every time.

But that nagging, unsatisfied feeling haunted him. He wanted you so bad it almost hurt. So, he resorted to other, less practical options.

He had thought about joining the porn industry awhile ago when he was in college. He thought it would be great money, and it turns out it’s even better than what he makes as a bartender.

And he thought being a bartender would make him cocky and arrogant.

Harry started over half a year ago–a few months after you got the job. In order to distract himself from thinking of you or sleeping with other women, he recorded videos during the day. Surprisingly, he got more popular than he thought he would, gaining a few thousand subscribers in just three months. Now, seven months since the beginning, Harry would do videos, live streams, and personal requests for people who paid extra.

But he never showed his face. Ever.

At night, he would work his busy shift at the bar, flirting with customers just like he did on live streams. This way, he couldn’t allow himself to engage in the idea of having a crush on a co-worker. It was just unprofessional. But even if he tried doing all of this, it was impossible for him to deny the small crush he had on you. So, that’s all he labeled it as; a small crush. Nothing more.

He wouldn’t say you were his only reason for getting into the industry. He had thought about it for quite some time, so you were just his… motivator.

When the bustling night finally comes to an end, nothing but a few footsteps echo throughout the bar as Harry wipes the counter and tables clean. As he’s just finishing up his last table, he hears your angelic voice on the other side of the bar.

“Need some help?” You offer, with a slight head tilt and a show-stopping smile as you lean on the glossy, black counter. That was the smile that got you tips, and if it didn’t, Harry would sure be willing to give you some himself. “Please let me help.”

“Just finishing up. Go on home. Don’t worry ‘bout closing up,” He tosses the rag over his shoulder as he walks towards the back room where all the locker rooms are located. You sigh into the silent air as you follow him.

“Harry, you can’t keep doing this for me every night. I can close up by myself. I’m a big girl…”

Ever since you’ve started, Harry’s been intrigued by you. Out of curiosity on your first night, Harry stayed back and helped you close up. He was surprised they made you close so soon, especially on the first night. But you should’ve had previous training.

It was purely curiosity, just to see if you did it right and whatnot. But then he did it the next night, and the next. And eventually, he anticipated and looked forward to cleaning up the bar, knowing that it was just the two of you. It didn’t really help Harry with his little crush on you, but he didn’t care when he heard your laugh and saw your smile. You were refreshing to him after a long, busy night that crept into early morning.

“I know, I know. Don’t want you to be lonely s’all.” Popping open his locker, he shuffles through all of his belongings. You appreciated that Harry would stay an extra hour every single night just because he didn’t want you to feel lonely. It made your heart all warm and your stomach feel gushy every time you were alone together. For some reason right now, his words made your tummy tingle.

“And I appreciate that a lot! But I feel bad for making you stay here longer than you have to. I know Carrie doesn’t even know you work that late,” You cross your arms while talking about your manager. Harry rolls his eyes as he continues to mess around in his locker.

“You’re not makin’ me do anything. I’m doin’ it all on my own,” He rebuttals as you move closer to him as if he’ll hear you clearer.

“But Harry–” Harry cuts off your voice because it sounds too whiny, pathetic, and way too erotic for him to make any rational decisions with you standing this close to him. He slams his hand on the metal locker, making your eyes widen and freeze.

“But nothing. Stop your whinin’, Y/N. I thought you were a big girl,” Harry grumbles before unbuttoning his vest and shrugging it off. Even if he’s just removing his vest, his hands are a bit shaky, nerves flowing through him because you’re staying right in front of him, unmoving, while he’s undressing himself.

“What are you doing?” You ask anxiously as your eyes flash over at his movements.

“Taking m’vest off?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” Well, now, you look fucking stupid.

You both bicker back and forth until Harry caves and you shine that bullet-proof smile at him. He swears he feels his knees buckle and heart jump in his chest, but swallows the feelings down.

“Fine, get the mop.”

Together, you wipe all the surfaces clean, mop the floors, restock any liquors that were empty, and lock the doors. When your job is done, you and Harry walk into the back room to grab your stuff.

“Thanks for staying,” You felt as though it was getting awkward, the silence of your footsteps and the creakness of the locker door.

“‘Course,” Harry replies gruffly and shuts his door. As he leads you out the backdoor, you both start heading in different directions without knowing. Harry usually parks in the same stall every day if he can. However, you don’t and just park anywhere you can.

“Oh. Well, goodnight, H,” You smiled softly as you drifted away to your car. It looked a little different to Harry, but maybe that’s just because it was almost pitch-black outside. Or did you get a new car and he just never noticed? Harry watches you carefully to make sure you get to your vehicle safely, and when you do, he makes his way to his own car.

You didn’t call him H a lot. The first time you did it was by accident when you spilt something on his slacks during your first week in training. He just laughed and cleaned himself up, and then said that nobody had ever called him that besides his mom. For some odd reason, a little spark ignited in you, so you started calling him H, but not all the time since it seemed special. Most of the time when you two were alone. You didn’t want other people saying H when it kind of became your guys’ thing. Besides his mom of course.

Harry loved when you called him H. His mom called him that when he was a little boy, but it’s been at least a decade since she’s said just the pure letter.

As Harry starts his engine and backs out, he inhales deeply with the thought of you in his mind. As always.

–

“Y/N, I need my car back,” Penny says on the other side of the phone, slight annoyance lacing her tone.

“I know, okay? I’m just trying to save up, and I almost have enough!”

“Fine,” Penny sighs. You can hear the exhausted pinch of her nose, “but I need it back by next Friday for that trip no matter what. Even if you have to take the damn bus. And if you don’t, I’m telling Mom and Dad.”

“Thank you so much!” Your voice is cut off by the sound of the call ending, and you sigh heavily into the morning air. She’s very mature for a thirty year old.

Last week, your car had broken down on the side of the road. It was an old, shitty car, but it got you from your parents’ house and through most of college. Your parents helped pay for a good chunk of your tuition, so you didn’t dare to ask them to loan you some money for a new car. You didn’t want them to know you needed help because they’ve already done so much for you two and you know they’re looking to retire at some point. So, you asked your older sister, Penny, to borrow hers for a few days while you came up with a better solution. She was fine with it at first, but you can tell it’s probably time to give it back.

However, even though you said you would have the money by next Friday and it’s Sunday, you wouldn’t. There is no way in hell you were going to come up with an extra two thousand dollars in twelve days.

–

You decided to open up to Harry as you were closing the bar on Tuesday night. He listened with care and nodded along to every complaint you whined. Even though it brutally killed him to listen to it. Gosh, he was so dirty minded.

“I can’t even get a second job because I wouldn’t get paid in time. And I really don’t want Penny playing snitch and telling my parents about my car,” You gasp, “What if they stop paying for my tuition because they think I’m irresponsible? Ugh, what should I do, Harry?”

“Relax f’me,” Harry reassured, and bit his cheek at his choice of words. Why is he the most sexual person ever? “I could always take you to work. And loan you some cash.”

“Absolutely not. We don’t work the same days and I don’t want you driving me when you could be busy—”

“Y/N, s’not an issue. The university s’not that far from ‘ere.”

“But—”

“No,” Harry ended the banter quickly with a strict tone. His voice made you swallow and submit without a second thought. Your stomach unconsciously burned and your heart beated rapidly as you blinked in place. “Go get y’things.”

“Fine, but I don’t want your money.”

So, you got your things. Harry walked you out to your car and then you went your separate ways. Even though he said it’s not a big deal, you didn’t drop it. Instead, you did excessive research on part-time jobs that pay really well. However, your options were slim to none.

Giving up, you fell dramatically onto your mattress in defeat. Suddenly, your phone pings and you check it, wondering who would be texting you at one A.M.

H: Send me your schedule when you get the chance. The new one hasn't been printed yet.

H: You’re probably asleep, sorry

Y/N: i’m not asleep

Y/N: *Image Attachment*

H: Cool thanks

Y/N: no thank YOU for helping me out you’re too kind H

H: Anything for you love

Is what Harry wanted to say, but he was too much of a chicken. That’s what Harry wanted to say in a perfect world, but nothing is on his side. He thought he had erased the message and exited the app. Instead, the message sent, and autocorrect changed the entire meaning.

H: Anything for your love

This is why punctuation and revision is important!

Your heart skipped a beat. Longer than a beat. You felt the organ get caught in your throat and subtly choke you as you read the four words. Why would he say that? You wait a few moments to see if he’s going to type something else, maybe realize he made a mistake, but he never does. So, you sit rereading the four words like a mantra in your head.

You turn your phone off after you realize how ridiculous you’re being. You place the device on your nightstand and try to go to sleep. But you can’t. You can’t stop thinking of Harry. His kindness, his voice, his body, his words… They’re infecting you and giving you insomnia.

So, instead of staring at the ceiling until you fall asleep, you snatch your laptop from below your nightstand. You pull up your private browser (not that it matters) and search your favorite website. Well, your favorite porn website.

If you watched enough videos, or maybe even fingered yourself, you would fall asleep.

You were a regular on the website. More than a regular. You were a… worker. A star, or whatever. Is that what the employees were called? At the beginning of college you started recording little videos of yourself just groping or rubbing hoping to earn a little cash. But when you got a little more confident, you would rub your clit and finger yourself until you came.

Crazy, right?

It’s quite insane how it all happened. It’s a good side hustle, but it’s still not enough to help you buy a car by your deadline. You get paid less than you do as a bartender, which kind of sucks. You thought about quitting, but it’s probably the funnest job you’ve ever had. How many jobs do you get orgasms from?

None.

Maybe you need to step up your game. Maybe you need to start using various toys that your viewers recommend in order to spice things up. Will that get you views? You didn’t know because you didn’t know a lot about the porn industry.

Scrolling past your profile to avoid obsessing over your insecurities, you look at who's live. That’s one thing you’ll never do; go on live. No matter how much the handful of viewers you get want you to, you don’t trust yourself. You never show your face in any of your videos and if you did by accident, you always blur it out. But on livestream, you can’t just go back and fix it. Your face will be on the internet forever, and your biggest fear is that it will haunt you for the rest of your life.

What if you can’t get a real job because your face is on some porn website? Or you can’t get married? Or you can’t look your friends in the eyes because they’ve seen yours on a livestream?

You couldn’t live with that.

When nothing seems at all entertaining, a video of a man with tattoos spawns on your screen. Your first thought was that it looks like Harry, but you know it wasn’t. The man didn’t have the cross tattoo on his left hand and was lacking in other spots.

You bet Harry was fit. The way he carried those tubs of ice or lifted something heavy off the shelves… You knew he had to have some type of hefty muscle under his rolled button-up. Speaking of, when he curls the white sleeves, you can’t help but ogle him every time you see him. You strain to look away because his forearms just look so delicious with his smooth, tattooed skin.

Nonetheless, you still clicked on the video. It was a solo guy simply just jerking himself off with loads of foreplay and dirty talk. Usually, this kind of scene makes you cringe. But as your mind spirals, you imagine it’s Harry; his voice, his tattoos, his body, his hands…

Every explicit word and sound that falls from the man’s mouth causes you to whimper as you translate it as Harry. Your hand easily shuffles itself between your widening legs, rubbing gently over the cotton of your panties.

The guy begins stroking his cock, slowly but surely as his tip leaks. You shut your eyes, not bothering with the video. All you wanted were the sounds—the grunting, moaning, and direct words spouting from this man’s throat that pushed you further. They sounded gruff, and you couldn’t erase how perfectly it aligned with your imagination of Harry.

A broken moan escapes you when you shift your underwear to the side and slot in a finger. You barely teased yourself, and thrusted in and out with purpose.

The man in the video was American, and some may say it’s hard to imagine a British accent. But when you were horny and had a ridiculous crush on your 28 year old co-worker who was 6 years older than you, your brain was relentless.

The audio spouted out his grumbled moan as your opposing thumb rolled over your clit. You couldn’t stop thinking of Harry’s hands on you, his fingers inside of you instead of your own. You imagine he’s good too. You can practically feel the way he sinks all the way into you and curls deliciously until his rings are teasing your folds. His smirk would hang over your face as you broke down, trembling as you came around his digits.

That wasn’t real, but your mind couldn’t comprehend that right now. As the guy loudly groaned one final time, he came with spurts of his orgasm landing on his chiseled torso.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came around two fingers that weren’t Harry’s. The remaining thought left you unsatisfied overall, but it would have to surfice for tonight. As you drained yourself of your orgasm, you trudged to your shared bathroom and quickly cleaned yourself up before anyone could see.

Your dormmates were always in and out. They both were in full-time relationships and jobs that caused them to be busy twenty-four-seven. Sometimes, you were glad because then you could have the whole dorm to yourself. That’s usually when you recorded your videos for your website, and then would edit them some other time.

Now exhausted, you flopped onto your bed and shut your laptop closed. You twisted off your bedside lamp as your eyes grew heavier by the minute. It wasn’t long before your mind dragged you into slumber, the thought of Harry still lingering.

—

When you woke up the next morning, you were glad you didn’t have work that night. Although you’ve selfishly gotten off to Harry before, you never did have to face him the next day. It’s almost like you planned it that way. You groggily rolled out of bed as you normally do and began your short morning routine.

You left the doom and walked to class, too tired to get a coffee, but too tired to go to class. Your head pounded, needing the addicting caffeine, so you forced yourself to walk down to the small coffee shop near your school.

Snatching the miniature paper cup, you skulked your way to class with half your brain on. During the lecture, you felt yourself slipping away into dreamland; one where you had a great paying job, a nice, working car, and a very, very comfy bed. You imagined yourself sleeping peacefully and then waking up to the sound of chirping birds on your windowsill and a handsome man by your side. For a sliver of a moment, due to your shenanigans last night, your brain envisioned Harry as the man beside you. But even the exhausted and delirious morning version of you knew you were being foolish to even think about Harry in the same bed as you. Boy, was that a fantasy.

It was too domestic and way too out of reach for you both. You merely closed with the guy and ranted about your own life. Pouring out your problems was definitely not attractive, and neither was a college girl that was six years younger than him without a working car. But he offered to drive you to work. What does that mean? Nothing. That’s just what friendly co-workers do, right? When you realized you were insanely delusional, you rushed to scribble the notes in your notebook before your daydreams got the best of you.

“That’s all for today,” were your favorite set of words at the moment. The second you heard your professor’s routine dismissal, you were shoving your supplies in your bag with more energy than you had all day. You were the first to exit class, but was that really surprising?

When you got back to the dorm, you dropped your bag and fell flat on your bed. Silence filled your room just as last night (or this morning if you wanted to get technical). But it was brighter and a bit stuffer due to the heat of the sun beaming through your window that you forgot to block with your blinds. Groaning, you do just that right as you get a message from your phone. Flopping back on your bed, you flip the device over with surprise.

H: Do you work today

You were shocked to see that Harry texted you because one, it was mid-day and two, he rarely ever texts. When his name pops up on your screen’s wallpaper, your heart jumps in your chest before reading the message ten more times in order to comprehend it. But this text specifically had you confused. You sent him your schedule last night, so he knows exactly when you work. Why would he need to be asking you when he has the information?

Instead of being a bitch, you just reply simply.

Y/N: i don’t. why what’s up

He responds quickly.

H: Carrie called and asked if anyone could come in to cover Allison’s shift tonight

Y/N: closing?

H: Yeah

Y/N: are you working?

Why would you ask that? You were probably going to pick up the shift anyway, so why didn’t you just say yes?

Maybe because your delusional ass wants to keep this dry, solely work-related conversation going!

H: Yes

Y/N: kk then i can cover

H: Need a ride?

Why did Harry ask that? He knows that you still have your sister’s car for the rest of the week, yet he still asked. Is there a little sliver inside of him that hopes you’ll say yes just so he can spend time with you? Yes. The real question was, is it weird that he wanted you to say yes?

Y/N: it’s okay i still have penny’s car until friday

Harry didn’t respond after that. He was hit with what he assumed was disappointment, but he had no reason to be disappointed.

You were the type of person to ask a million questions until you found out the reason behind something. Harry found that out early on. So, just in case you ask him why he reached out to you, his excuse would be that you needed the money because of Tuesday’s rant. Maybe it would sound a little harsh, but it was better than Harry admitting that he just wanted to work with you again. Or that he wanted to be with you alone.

God, he sounds like such a creep.

When the night came, Harry was impatiently waiting for you to come in. He had already been there an hour and every few minutes his head would look backward to see if you were walking in through the back door. When he realized how weird and obsessive he was being, he refocused on his work; smiling, charming, and getting tips. Some nights were harder than others to act all sexy and sweet because he didn’t always feel that way. But when he worked with you, everything seemed a bit easier. But it was also because he had the dirtiest mind in the world and couldn’t stop thinking about what was underneath your button-up. Okay, so maybe working with you wasn’t the easiest…

“Look at her.”

“Who?”

“That one. The one with the pinned up hair,” A burly man points. “I would not mind gettin’ some of that.”

“Oh yeah. Look at her tits. They are practically poppin’ out of that top–”

Harry’s never turned around so quickly in his life. When he turned, he saw exactly what the two bastards were looking at; you. You were wearing a little more makeup than usual and your top was missing the first button. Harry felt his blood boil, but not with rage. No, it was bubbling up with some intense need to push you into the back room and lock the door. He would pluck off every single button with his mouth if you asked him to. But he also hated that everyone could see. Every person in this bar, including the two perverts behind him, got to ogle your beauty. Harry felt like he couldn’t admire you the way that strangers get to, and he was right. He couldn’t. It was wrong. You were friends. You were co-workers. That had to be against some rule, right?

Once he got his head somewhat straight, he spun back around to face the two men again. Harry was not charming and he was not smiling this time. Before Harry even had the chance to speak, the man was already talking over him.

“Yo, you think you could hook me up with that one? The busty one?” Harry was going to beat the shit out of this guy. But he’s going to try his best to remain professional first.

“You’re not allowed to hit on employees. And you’re not allowed to talk about them in an inappropriate manner,” Harry clenched his jaw and peered over at you, “If you say another goddamn word about her I will kick your ass to the curb, yeah?”

One of the men wasn't even paying attention anymore, but the one who started it all merely snickered at Harry. He shook his head in annoyance before spinning around on his stool and hopping off. He could hear little grumbles coming from his bearded mouth, but he didn’t actually say anything else. Harry felt like it was a little victory in his book, but he still felt that drop of jealousy inside of him.

Control.

He took a deep breath and concentrated on anything else. He attempted to stay as far away from you as possible because he thinks tonight may be the night he loses control. You had your hair pinned up again, like usual, but the ends were sticking out. Harry thought about pulling on them until your hair came undone completely. Like he noticed earlier, you had on more makeup, but it wasn’t a lot compared to some of the women that waltzed into the bar. Your lipstick was a bold red while your eyes had that gold glitter eyeshadow stuff that made them sparkle. To say the least, you were attractive. You were a captivating magnet of beauty that people were drawn to. When you walked in a room, people stopped to look at you for minutes at a time because they were fascinated by you. Well, that’s at least how Harry felt. Every time.

At midnight, when the bar finally died down a bit because it’s Wednesday, Harry still tried to avoid you. You seemed extra smiley and extra bouncy for some reason too. It was physically hard to not walk over to you. When Harry wanted something, he usually got it, but his self-control was proving that fact to be false.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you all night!” Just when he thought you might leave his mind for the first time tonight–you weren’t–he summoned you next to him. You were as smiley and bouncy as you seemed earlier and he wondered how you weren’t exhausted.

“Hey,” he replied with some guilt in his tone. He coughs, trying not to peer down at your breasts. “How are you so…”

“Awake? I had four espresso shots before work.”

“Okay, well, that explains a lot,” Harry felt the need to say something about your look. He wanted to compliment you, but would that be weird? No, right? You probably got a hundred compliments and loads of tips because of your beauty alone. He has never thought twice about complimenting somebody before. He swallowed. “I, uh, like your makeup.”

You blinked, suddenly feeling the weight of your mascara on your eyelashes and the lipstick on your lips. Your heart was already beating quickly because of the caffeine, but Harry’s compliment made it much worse. The organ was thumping speedily inside of you like it was trying to win a race. Your ears were getting warm along with the nape of your neck as a tingle of something shot through your body. Like? Lust? Need?

“T-Thank you,” You bit your tongue immediately for stuttering. Harry ignited a flame of energy into you that no amount of caffeine could recreate. He was staring at you now, his gaze so intense you might melt from his invisible laser beams. When his irises moved, you swear they shot down to your cleavage for a millisecond before staring at your painted lips. You tried not to look at any of his tattoos that were visible because you knew that would end it all for you; all of your self-control that you have somehow mustered up this far would disintegrate into the lust-filled air. Did he feel this too? The intense attraction connected by a thick rope that pulled you closer and closer together?

“I’m going to go do…anything else.” As your body moved away from him in an urge to remain self-controlled, your eyes were the last thing to yank away. But your luck got the best of you, as always. As you walked backwards, your heel stepped on a half-melted ice cube that managed to make you slip on your ass. But not before Harry was right in front of you, catching you before you ass hit the ground.

He tugs you up a little too harshly, slamming you into his chest. Your hands immediately flatten themselves against it while he holds your elbows tightly. He quickly peers down at your chipped nails; white and yellow. His gaze on them made you tremble with sudden insecurity. You’ve never been this close to him before, and all your insides were warning you of their near death. Your vagina was melting away at this point, your wetness soaking your underwear until they were completely wet. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your throat while his heart throbbed against your palms.

Maybe he did feel it too.

Hesitantly, you looked up at him, but he was already looking at you.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks quietly, his grip loosening just the slightest.

“I could ask the same thing,” You responded breathlessly, hands slowly sliding down his chest.

“I have no control around you.”

“What do you mean?” You knew what he meant because you felt it too, but you wanted him to say it first. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it before the words could come out. Once you are on steady feet, he releases his hold on you completely just as the bar doorbell rings. An older man walks in, Harry immediately fetching the guy’s order. He gets a beer while messaging on his phone consistently. Harry avoided you for the rest of the hour. Two more people came in and he busied himself with their orders and paid attention to only them. You wondered if he was going to stay and close with you tonight or if the encounter was awkward enough to make him go home early.

You take a deep breath before trudging away into the back room to start your close, careful to not slip on any ice because you knew Harry wouldn’t be there this time to catch you.

–

Once the doors were finally locked, you were able to start mopping in front of the bar. The chairs were all flipped and the tables and booths were all sanitized. You peered through the windows as a few people walked by, the mophead gliding easily along the floor. When you were finished, you tried not to think about where Harry was. You’re not sure if he had left for the night because you’ve been in the front and he’s been in the back. As you drag the mop into the back room with its bucket, you witness Harry unbuttoning his vest. Your traitorous heart thumped and your lady parts still ached, even if you were upset he’d been avoiding you without a valid reason. What did he not have control over? Himself? You wanted him to explain everything to you.

“I don’t like this, Harry.”

“What?” he croaked, voice seemingly dry from talking the previous hour.

“You avoiding me,” You took a deep breath, “What do you not have control over?” You saw his jaw visibly tense at the question, but that only made you more curious.

“I can’t do this tonight,” Once his vest was off, he was trying to push past you in the small room, but you shuffled to the side to block him. He was not walking away easily this time.

“No, you’re not avoiding me again. Harry, be an adult, would you?”

“You’re the one that’s blockin’ the doorway like a child so I can’t leave.”

“Well, if you just explained yourself maybe I would usher you to the exit myself,” You crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest. Harry hated that his eyes were attracted to your pushed-up breasts, practically calling out to him. This was his breaking point. This is exactly what he knew would happen. He knew you would ask him a million questions until you found your in-depth answer. He let one admission slip and suddenly he was being bombarded with questions that even he didn’t have the answers to. He was afraid he’d say the wrong thing, and then everything between you would be ruined.

Maybe he would just quit and become a full-time pornstar.

“Why do you stay an extra hour every night to help me close? Because I know you’re not getting paid for it.”

“Maybe I just like helpin’ out.”

“You only do it with me, don’t you? And now you’re avoiding me–”

“Fuck, ‘cause I’m drawn to you, Y/N! I can’t help it. I want to spend more time with you than a single shift. I’m selfish. Have you seen yourself? You walk around like you own this damn place and it has everyone fallin’ onto their knees for ya. You should’ve heard what these guys were sayin’ ‘bout you,” he laughs in the depressing, forced kind of way, “and tonight when you came in with your glitter and your makeup and your tits pouring out of your shirt, you made me think and feel things I can’t say out loud. It feels wrong. That’s why I’ve been avoiding you.”

With a frozen body, you were speechless. The silence that surrounded you both was so deafening that you could barely hear your drumming heart beating in your ears. Your mouth was slacked open, your lips formed in a forever “o” shape. Harry’s words were rushed and tense as if he couldn’t quite get them out right, but he couldn’t have explained it better. While you were starstruck by his admission, he brushes past your still body and exits the back room. You don’t even turn around in time because when you do, you don’t hear the click of his footsteps in the lobby but the plush closing of the back door.

–

The next morning was awful. You could barely sleep due to Harry’s words echoing in your head like a wincing ache, so you were dragging yourself out of bed once your alarm rang at 6 am. Your morning routine felt more mundane than usual as your eyes threatened to shut every few seconds.

As you finally trudged to campus, the curious cat in you kept wandering back to thoughts of Harry. You wondered what he was doing right now in the middle of the day. Did he have another job? Was he hanging out with friends? Family? At one point during your friendship, you had assumed he had a girlfriend because how could he not? A handsome bartender with enough charm to swoon both men and women in a filled ballroom surely would be taken. But after his confession last night, you knew Harry was consumed in a different concept. Maybe Harry didn’t like to date. Maybe he just liked being with women (and maybe men) in an intimate way casually without settling. You weren’t like that. You liked commitment and routine and being steady. That’s why it was unbelievably stressful for your car to break down randomly; it interrupted your plans. So maybe that’s why you couldn’t respond to Harry after his acknowledging words last night–you haven’t had time to process the underlying meaning of his words. You also knew deep down that if Harry only wanted you for sex, you would get hurt in the end. You weren’t one for casual sex because you knew you would get attached. That’s why you have remained such self-control around Harry.

Did he feel that way too?

When you got to the doors of your lecture room, your thoughts became misty in your mind. You push open the door to an empty classroom. You blink away the fatigue in your eyes, thinking your deliriousness has you seeing things–or lack thereof. But when you rub them harshly, the room remains peopleless and you wonder just what you missed. You yank your phone from your pants pocket and tap open your email app. And of course, the most recent and unread email is from your professor last night. He mentions that class would be canceled tomorrow due to a family emergency that happened that evening. At that time, you were too busy drowning in your own overthinking to even check your phone the whole night. As a grumble mixed with a sigh leaves your lips, you plod back to your tiny dorm and hope that your roommates aren’t there. You needed to let off some steam. And you knew just how.

–

Out of all the days in the week, Thursday has always been Harry’s day off. He never works on Thursday or hangs out with his friends because they have work, so it’s just a nothing day for him. Some weeks he uses this day to film new content, but after last night’s incident, he can’t think straight. He hasn’t stopped thinking of you and your lack of words from his admission. And it’s killing him. He wishes you would have said something, anything, rather than just standing still with your mouth wide enough to slip his cock through. His mind keeps coming up with randomized scenarios of what-ifs and it’s enough to make him go mad.

And then there’s the dirty, animalistic part of him that cannot forget how good you looked with your barely buttoned shirt and your wild lipstick. He wanted to kiss you until you were both covered in the red paint. He wanted to tear your uniform so roughly that the buttons would break off completely and you’d never be able to wear that excuse for a shirt again. He wanted to corner you in the back room and show you how much he wanted you and how much he hated avoiding you. But he needed to. For his sake and yours.

Instead of filming one of his requested videos, he just scrolls through the website. Harry doesn’t feel guilty about it because he keeps telling himself that today is his day off and he deserves to take a break. But even with those reminders his brain is running a million miles an hour, chasing you and the what-ifs that lingered on your tongue last night. Even when he tried his very best, he couldn’t stop thinking about you in his subconscious. So as he deepened his search throughout the site, he didn’t even comprehend that he was looking for someone that resembled you.

He seeked various videos until he found an account that drew him in, similarly to how you do on a daily basis. With curiosity, he clicks on the profile before him, reading and watching bits and pieces before indulging. The username was babyh0ney and that alone caught his eye. The girl didn’t say much about herself on her profile, but based on the cover of the videos, she looked young. He couldn’t see her face, which he respected, but still decided to click on a video.

Indulging in her top video, Harry watches with an open mind. But he learns it is extremely difficult when he keeps relating things back to you. He swears at one point you mentioned to him that your bed was a light shade of pink, but he could be imagining it. The sight of the woman’s bare chest has Harry’s gaze locked because he swears that’s what yours would look like if he ever saw them. The peek of hair that rests on her shoulders seems to be the same as yours, too. As the woman drags her hand down her body and towards her panties, Harry starts to feel dizzy with arousal. No one has been able to turn him on as much as you since you’ve been working with him, so the fact that his woman is able to do just that surprises him. He takes the opportunity without questioning and immediately starts palming himself over his loose shorts.

The woman continues to tease herself by rubbing her delicate fingers over her red panties–of course they’re red, Harry thinks. Only the most seductive color. Temptingly, she nudges the tip of her finger into the lace, teasing the audience with her edging. But that draws Harry’s eyes more than he thought. Removing his hand from his throbbing cock, he pauses the video when the woman’s hands are in full view. He zooms in and recognizes the color of the woman’s nails; white and yellow. But not just any woman now, no.

It was you. Harry was sure of it.

As if Harry thought he was dizzy before, he was fully nauseous with shock and arousal now. His eyes can barely believe the sight before him, consuming the video as if it will flash away any second. He rips off his shorts quickly and has his bare cock in his hand in mere seconds. Milliseconds even. His tip was viciously leaking, the slit pulsing and pink. After what felt like ages you finally, slowly and cautiously, remove your underwear. You spread your legs wide enough so Harry (and the audience) can see your fluttering cunt, naked and needy.

God, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life. Is it possible to die from a neverending erection?

“Fuck,” You moaned through Harry’s laptop as your painted fingers rubbed generous circles over your throbbing clit. The one word and Harry’s hand was gliding speedily over his cock, wasting no time in the world. Usually, Harry likes to take his time and even tease himself a bit, but with the sight of your gorgeous body straight in front of his greedy eyes, he couldn’t tear away. He couldn’t halt the dangerously quick movement of his hand going up and down on his shaft, chasing a high he’s wanted to for so long. Just as you slip a finger into your cunt, Harry spurts out his selfish orgasm, ropes of white splattering over his tattooed stomach. He barely comprehended calling out your name as he came, and even though it was heedless, he doesn’t regret it. That was one of the most relieving finishes he’s ever had, yet it still felt incomplete somehow, like there was something missing.

He knew deep down inside that he would never truly be sedated until you were physically with him, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. At least any time soon. So for now, this was the best he was going to get.

But that didn’t stop him from going through your account. Harry watched two more videos–without touching himself surprisingly–before he got the courage to message you. His cock was plump and insatiable, wetness dribbling at his tip. He shakily clicked on your profile’s messaging box before asking for a request. He doesn’t second-guess himself because he knows he would never send it if he did that. So with lust as his guide, he hits send.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Hi I just saw some of your videos and I was impressed.

Impressed? That’s what he calls the incessant throb of his dick? Why did he start off like that?

Harry knows that he has more of a page than some small influencers on this site, including you. He hopes that you’ll be more inclined to respond because he’s verified. But he then realized that you might not even be online to see it. He knows that you don’t work today, but it is the middle of the day and you’re probably doing something much more important than–

babyh0ney: really? thank you so much. i’m a fan of your work myself…

Harry felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. You were a fan of him? You watched his videos? Did you know it was him like he knew it was you?

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Really?

babyh0ney: yes

babyh0ney: i wish i could attract the people like you do

DaylightDaddy [verified]: I’d be happy to help

What was he suggesting? Harry didn’t even know what he was typing. His fingers were moving faster than his logic.

babyh0ney: how do i become more attractive?

Harry nearly laughs at that. You were one of the more alluring people he’s ever seen or met, including all the celebrities he’s watched in movies. You were different. The best kind of different.

With the protection of his own screen and the chance you don’t know who you’re actually talking to, Harry responds with confidence.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Honey, you’re one of the most attractive women on here

Your heart skips an unexpected beat from the words on the screen. You weren’t naive. It was obvious this man was flirting with you, but why? To ask for a request for free? To do a collaboration? There is no way this man, a verified star with devilish talent and tattoos galore, would want to do a video with you. In a strange way, you were extremely attracted to him. You weren’t lying when you said you had been a fan of him. In the back of your mind and deep in your soul he resembled Harry in the slightest, mainly from the placement of his tattoos. Some tattoos looked just like Harry’s, but you refused to stare long enough to fantasize.

Unsure of how to reply, you deflect.

babyh0ney: thank you…but have you seen the women on here?

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Yes, that’s how I know I’m right

A heated rush flows through your skin and bundles in your cheeks. You never realized how touch-starved, horny, and lonely you were until some random guy on the internet made you blush. What has the world become?

babyh0ney: but you haven’t even seen my face

Without even trying, you confirmed Harry’s assumption. There was no way you knew it was him you were messaging. Should he spill the beans and admit that he’s seen your face? Or should he play it cool? Well, one is going to make him sound like a stalker, so he might want to go with the ladder.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: I don’t need to. I just know

babyh0ney: why are you really texting me? it doesn’t seem like you want a request…

It was so like you; to ask a serious question when Harry was trying to flirt. You always have to know every little detail. Harry had a love-hate relationship with the fact.

Suddenly, like a lightbulb over his head, Harry had an idea. Something that would benefit both of you, and something that might make Harry feel a little less selfish.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: I do

DaylightDaddy [verified]: But you said you wanted to appear more attractive and I can help

DaylightDaddy [verified]: So what is your favorite thing to do?

You blink at the screen before you. No one’s ever asked what you liked before. It’s always what they want, and if it was something that you refused to do then they just left the conversation. Simple as that. But this person was different. Maybe it was because he was in the industry himself and he knows what it’s like to receive random requests. Whatever his reason for it, you were slightly more confident.

babyh0ney: well i like to use my toys in my requests so the videos aren’t as long

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Favorite toy?

babyh0ney: my bullet because it makes me come fast

babyh0ney: but i haven’t used it in a video yet

Harry could barely type. The swelling of his cock was overwhelming. He couldn’t stop imagining you on your light pink bed sheets, all spread out and wide, with a small, vibrating bullet lodged into your sopping cunt. He roughly palms down on his bulge to ease the immense ache.

Before Harry even had the chance to respond, you sent another message.

babyh0ney: i sent you a video if you want

babyh0ney: and you could give me some advice?

Harry’s inkling of a plan seemed to be setting into motion, and he didn’t even have to roll the ball much. He’s glad that you’re the one suggesting the video more than he is because it proves that you want it. Maybe not as much as he does, but the desire is there. He feels that familiar tug of attraction between you both, and he wonders if that feeling is traveling through the technology.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Perfect. Just do exactly what you do.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Let me send you the money first

babyh0ney: but you’re helping me

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Honey, you know I got the money

DaylightDaddy [verified]: I asked for a request

babyh0ney: but this is different

You’re still not going to take his money? Are you just universally stubborn?

DaylightDaddy [verified]: Why are you so stubborn?

Harry doesn’t realize it until after he sent it that that message may sound a bit personal. How is he to know how stubborn you are if he didn’t actually know you as a person?

babyh0ney: you don’t even know me

babyh0ney: so i guess i can take your money lol

Harry sends the money with ease and no regret. He has been waiting the past week to be able to send you that money so you can finally get your fucking car fixed. But like he mentioned, you’re just too damn stubborn to accept the money from anyone. But when it’s a stranger that you’ll never talk to again on a porn website, it’s fine…

Harry knows that you won’t receive his money until after you send the video, so he waits impatiently. After a minute, he forces himself to leave the chat. He scrolls down your page, mesmerized by your beauty on the covers. But he’s also a little ashamed. He’s ashamed that he is doing this in order to talk to you because he’s afraid of what you will and won’t say in real life. He’s ashamed that he’s been avoiding you because he feels so strongly about you that it makes his insides nearly explode, but in the greatest way possible. It’s insane for him to admit that to himself, but it’s true.

He likes you.

–

Did you take a risk? Yes. Are you fucking insane for it? Yes with a side of fucking yes.

It’s been a half an hour since you texted DaylightDaddy. But you’re just so fucking nervous for some reason. At first, you tried to use the bullet like you would as if you were recording, but you could not concentrate for the life of you. Your fingers were trembling, your stomach was too tight, and your mind was a wandering catastrophe.

Because of your incessant craziness, you strolled through the man’s account. You should have been focusing on sending him his requested video that he paid for, even though he was supposed to be helping you. You could have at least given him a discount, but you didn’t feel like arguing for once. In that way, he reminded you of Harry.

Harry.

Even throughout the whole interaction with this random stranger, you were still finding subtle ways to relate them back to Harry. Some of the things the guy said seemed like such a Harry thing to say and you hated your mind for always resorting back to him like it was the only thing you knew. Why did he have to invade your mind and why did you want him to stay in it? It was the endless toxic loop that you were trapped in. It’s been one day since you’ve seen Harry, but it feels wrong after last night. Everything feels wrong and empty and unsaid. So much unsaid. You wanted him so badly to admit to you why he was doing what he was doing, and when he did, what did you do? Freeze up and panic? He was being vulnerable, and you just stood still and watched him leave.

A regretful tremble jerks your bottom lip and you feel the urge to cry. Not of sadness but of frustration with yourself. Harry is one of the greatest guys you’ve ever met and of course, you find a way to fuck it up somehow.

And although you want to push away the thoughts completely and focus on this requested video, the mystery man reminds you a lot of Harry. Like scary similar. Those tattoos were burning in your eyes, pulling you to look at them. Breaking some self-control, you watch one video. Just a short one. One where his tattoos are in full view, so your insatiable mind could be greedy and get off to this video of lookalike Harry for your flirty customer.

You fast forward until the man’s hands are on his cock, stroking all its thickness with precise teasing. As your waste of space panties start to get wet, your eyes immediately hook on the tattoos on his hands. A cross right by his thumb. You pause the video where his arm is in full view.

No fucking way.

There is no fucking way that’s Harry. What are the chances? Impossible, that’s what they are. Maybe this man just had the same under his index finger and near his thumb. Maybe he had the same anchor adorning his wrist like a large bracelet. Maybe…

Maybe you need to realize this is fucking Harry. And he found you somehow. Does he know it’s you?

–

With shaky fingers, you finally send the video.

You feel your heart plummet, the few seconds that passed already make you anxious. You had recorded the video, just like you were going to. Except you didn’t do it for DaylightDaddy. No, you did it for Harry.

What if you were wrong? What if it wasn’t Harry?

Is it possible to get sued for talking and moaning another guy’s name to a customer? You might just find out.

babyh0ney: *Video Attachment*

With shaky fingers, he finally presses play.

Harry’s head is dizzy with lust and his body is flooded with arousal. He watches intently as your body comes into view, nothing but panties on. Your camera is angled directly between your legs, so he can only see the underside of your breasts.

With lust bubbling in his eyes, Harry locks on your every move. Your hand massages all over your skin, exploring like Harry would die to do. Your nail polished fingers skim over the black laced panties, teasing your hidden opening. Harry is all for teasing and edging, but this is the most difficult thing he’s ever done. It’s physically and mentally hard to not orgasm on the spot. He will come when you come.

His hand drifts gently over to his own cock, which has greedily come once to your videos. When you go slow, he goes slow, so every minor and delicate movement you make, he replicates and it’s killing him. Finally, after what felt like a decade of torture, you shred your panties off slowly but surely.

Harry’s breath gets caught in his throat at the sight. He had already seen what your body looks like, but it was different knowing this video was just for him. Well, DaylightDaddy. The feeling in him was something primal. He loved knowing that this–all of you–was just for him. He wanted that all the time. He wanted you.

While Harry is copying your motions and lost in his own admissions, he barely notices you grabbing the small pink bullet and turning it on. You gently collect some of your wetness that was leaking out and cover the vibrator. Harry groans to himself at the lewd sight before him; he never imagined you would be such a dirty girl, but he never does know with you.

As you insert the bullet, a loud, breathless moan rolls out from your tongue. He’s mesmerized as your cunt clenches tightly around the object, body consuming the intense feeling. Based on your trembling body and echoing moans, you were going to come soon too. Your sounds were spurring him on, making his hand fly brisker up and down his shaft until his release was near. He didn’t want to close his eyes, but if he imagined your noises good enough, he could translate them as moans of his name.

“Harry…”

Yeah, that sounded like a dream. Like heaven coming from your pouty lips that he thinks about kissing way more than he should.

“Fuck, Harry.”

It almost sounds real. That’s how he knows he’s consumed in you too much for his own good.

“I wish you were here with me…touching me.”

Wait.

When he opens his eyes, you are still on his screen, moaning and falling apart in front of him just like before. But when he replayed the video a few seconds back, you really were saying those things. You were outright moaning his name, chanting it like a fucking mantra, while holding your legs wide open. It was a fever dream, a wet dream. You were lying on your bed with your cunt bare and soaked, whimpering his name and wishing he was there with you.

Losing all form of restraint, Harry fists his cock like never before. His thumb teases his leaking tip for a moment before jacking off with no regret. He feels his balls quickly tense, just like all the muscles in his body at the sight and sound of you.

Your dainty hand floats down to your throbbing clit, rubbing in tight circles in order to get to your high. The arch in your back becomes more prominent and your moans transform into airy gasps when the vibrations become nearly too much.

“I’m gonna come, H. Let me come.”

“Fuck. Let it go. Let it all go, Honey,” he didn’t even think about the words that were leaving his lips. The small nickname was cute. It matched your profile and the sweetness of all you were. You were talking to him as if he would say something back, so he did. He responded as if you were going to listen to him, and he didn’t know if you would, but you did.

Cum spurted from his cock intensely, splattering onto his breathless body and decorating his tattoos. He peeks at his computer screen and watches your orgasm spill out of you heavenly around the bullet. With big breaths, you eventually reach over to your phone and cut the recording, still hiding your face. Stunned to completion, Harry mindlessly reaches over to his nightstand to wipe himself down.

Somehow, some way, you knew it was him. He knew it was you. Harry had a feeling that you knew he knew it was you. So, with some sudden clarity, Harry finally messages you back.

DaylightDaddy [verified]: What are you doing to me?

—

i decide to leave for months, drop this chunk of writing, and leave y’all on a cliffhanger… sorry not sorry!! :D

part two

taglist:

@likeapplejuicenpeach @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @whoreonmondays @armystay89

#shawnxstyles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fics #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles gif #harry styles news #harry styles stories

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bobohu4eva · 1 year ago

Text

Illicit Affairs

Characters: Idol!Baekhyun x trainee/idol!Reader

Genre: smut, angst

Warnings: explicit unprotected sex, virgin sex, significant age gap, problematic relationship dynamics, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way representative of a healthy relationship

WC: 9.7k (trust me it needed to be that long)

A/N: Heavily inspired by the song, although the forbidden nature of the relationship is interpreted more as dealing with the age difference and dynamic, rather than being a result of infidelity. I definitely recommend giving it a listen before reading further.

Masterlist

He was one of the last people you met after becoming a trainee, but he was the one you'd been thinking about meeting the most.

Baekhyun was the reason you decided to become a singer. He was the person that made you fall in love with music and singing ten years ago, so when you finally bumped into him in person, it left you breathless and flustered.

He was even more gorgeous than you could've expected, and you'd already met many other idols by then. You'd been waiting for your vocal lesson one evening, and he was the person who went right before you. When his lesson ended, he walked out of the soundproof room, and he was standing right in front of you.

The image of him you'd always had in your mind, based on the countless pictures and videos you'd seen of him throughout the years, couldn't compare at all. With him directly before you, in person, he looked so much better than you ever could've imagined. He was just wearing a black tshirt and sweats, no makeup, hair unstyled and even a bit messy, but you still had to fight off the urge to stare. He was quite a bit taller than you, and you could see the muscle definition in his chest and arms under the plain black shirt. Everything about him was just so perfectly shaped, to you. From his familiar but still somehow surprisingly handsome face, to his broad shoulders, down to his waist and hips. If you found him attractive before meeting him in person, you were down badly now.

It was so natural and sweet how he greeted you, asking if you were new, and wishing you the best for your trainee journey. Of course you thanked him, but he could easily see how much the sudden meeting had shaken you up, so he kept it brief.

From then on, you saw him there every week before your lesson, and found yourself looking forward to it every time. The greetings became short conversations, and eventually you even told him how he'd been the one to inspire you back in the day to also be a singer and eventually audition. You would never forget how those words made his face light up.

“Really? Back then I had no idea what I was doing, I'm still surprised by how much people seemed to like me. It means a lot to hear that.”

He had one of those special kinds of smiles that you only see a few times in your life. It made you feel seen, appreciated, like to him, you were the only other person that mattered. He had that kind of energy about him.

All you could think to do was blush and smile back. Being around him was almost like some sort of high to you, the way your heart pounded and you got butterflies in your stomach.

Finally your voice teacher popped his head out the door, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I've got a bit of a cold. We'll keep it short today.”

Without missing a beat, Baekhyun spoke up. “If you need to take the night off I can take over her lesson.” He turned towards you, “Would you be okay with that?”

Your eyes grew wide and your mouth opened slightly, but no words came out, so you just nodded.

“You sure?” The teacher said, “That would be great, thank you.”

“Of course, it's already pretty late, you should get some rest.”

So, you were left with Baekhyun teaching your lesson for the evening. You were still dumbfounded as he led you back into the small soundproof room, and asked what you had learned in last week's lesson.

You answered him, though it was barely above a whisper. Having him teaching you all of the sudden was not something you were mentally prepared for.

However he still understood, and started leading you through some warm ups.

To say that you were blushing, embarrassed, mortified, or anything similar still felt like an understatement. Warm ups just aren't cute.They felt silly and sounded dumb and the idea of doing them in front of Baekhyun of all people made you want to curl up into a tiny ball and become one with the carpet on the floor.

Of course Baekhyun quickly caught on to that. “How about we do them together? I'll start, and you just match me, ok?”

His voice concealed your own enough to ease your mind a bit, but soon he was asking you to sing on your own, without his voice to hide behind.

You could barely get out a sound, let alone properly sing a simple scale. It was frustrating beyond belief, you knew you were a good singer, and you were incredibly lucky to have him offer to teach you, but your shyness still got the best of you. Trying to do anything while his eyes were on you felt impossible.

Baekhyun was starting to regret offering to do the lesson, not because he didn't want to, but because he felt he was making you uncomfortable. He loved the idea of mentoring a trainee, helping them develop their skills and getting to see them debut with his encouragement, it had even been a dream of his. Of course this was only one vocal lesson, but it was something he'd been thinking about for a while, and this seemed like a great opportunity, at least at first. But he knew he couldn't force it, and he didn't want to hold you back either.

“I'm sorry, I didn't really think this through. Should we call it a night?” He asked, and you felt your heart sink. The disappointment evident on your face must've told him that you weren't quite ready to give up yet, so he made you an offer.

“What if I face the wall, and you close your eyes, just imagine I'm not here and you're practicing by yourself. Just so I can hear you and get a better idea for what we should work on.”

You took a deep breath. He was just another person, and he was here because he wanted to help you.

When you nodded, he smiled, ready to give it your best shot before he turned away, facing the corner of the room.

It actually came out sounding okay that time, so you repeated it again for good measure.

When you opened your eyes Baekhyun was looking your way again, with a proud smile on his face.

He had you repeat it a few more times, reassuring you every time that you were doing well, and for you, just seeing him smiling and praising you was enough to keep you going.

With you finally past your mental block, he was able to get an idea of where you were at, and both of you were surprised to see how quickly two hours went by. He still kept things simple, not wanting to overwhelm you or make you shy again, but it was going amazingly well and he found himself almost as excited about it as you, if not even more.

With the lesson finally over, he offered to drive you back to your dorm on his way home, and you happily accepted. When he led you to his car, a silver Porsche, you let out a small laugh in disbelief. Baekhyun just smiled, making a little extra show out of opening the door for you, before circling around to get in himself. You stayed quiet, just listening to him softly sing along to the music he'd put on until it was time for him to drop you off. Part of you was still in disbelief, that you'd really spent the last few hours with him, and now, you were next to him in his car as he drove you home. When he pulled up to your dorm, he wished you a good night, and didn't move until he saw you enter the building safely. As you laid in bed that night you replayed it all in your mind, smiling like a fool at how heart fluttering it all was. For the first time, you couldn’t fall asleep because your reality was somehow even better than what you could dream up.

One week later, when you arrived for your lesson again, you were surprised when Baekhyun and your original teacher said they wanted to discuss something with you.

“How would you feel about having your vocal lessons with me from now on?” Baekhyun asked.

They saw the surprise on your face, your first teacher nodding at what Baekhyun had said.

“Wow, I mean, are you sure? It's an honor, of course, but, why..?”

“Teaching is something I've been thinking a lot about lately and I really enjoyed our lesson last week. It's up to you, of course, but if you'd be interested then I'd love to be your new voice teacher.”

You laughed, mostly in disbelief. It felt too good to be true. Baekhyun was someone you'd looked up to for so long, and now he was happily offering to personally help you with your singing.

“You really mean that?”

He was still smiling in that almost frustratingly captivating way, nodding at your question. “So should we get started?”

Unlike the week prior you had a bit more confidence this time around, and both you and him thoroughly enjoyed the lesson. Every week that followed your voice grew even bolder, as you got more used to being around him. You got less nervous to see him, moreso happy and excited to get to sing with him, and having him as your teacher made you all the more dedicated to doing your absolute best.

Soon you started to ask him about other things, too. First it was dancing, asking his advice for how to memorize choreographies more easily. Then, how to talk to the media, or how to pose for photo shoots. Within a few months Baekhyun was much more than just the voice teacher you saw once a week. He helped you with basically every aspect of becoming a successful idol, he became a mentor to you.

You could never fully get used to it, to having him in your life in such a close way. Your heart would still flutter when he showed you that amazing smile of his, and you still refused to slack off on your vocals or dancing, because you wanted to impress him, but mostly because you’d get to see that very smile. He was every bit as lovely and charming as you’d always imagined he would be, and you fell hard for him, he made it impossible for you not to. With how sweet he was to you, it sometimes seemed like he might actually like you, as more than a student, but those were thoughts you pushed away, knowing realistically that a relationship with him was nothing more than a fantasy.

It was only six months into being a trainee that you were told you would debut, and you knew that you had him to thank for it. Another few months later the day came, and it was time for you to perform with your group for the first time.

As soon as you stepped off stage, out of the view of the cameras, you lost it. The tears weren't because you felt sad or disappointed, simply overwhelmed. You knew you'd done well, really well in fact. Your career had officially begun, and the weight of it came down on you all at once, leaving you with little to do but sit in your dressing room in disbelief.

There was a soft knock on the door, and next thing you knew Baekhyun’s head was peeking in, and you weren't sure you'd ever seen him smile that big before.

Without as much as a second of hesitation, you ran to the door, pulling him inside. As the door shut behind him, his arms wrapped around you.

His praises almost went unheard, still too overwhelmed by everything to fully listen to what he was saying, but you could tell he was happy, that he thought you'd done really well.

It wasn't long until his arms broke away, hands still on your shoulders as he looked at you, smiling that amazing smile of his. With him looking at you like that, telling you how well you'd done, how proud he was, how happy he was to be your mentor, your emotions ran wild. It was everything, the adrenaline, relief, euphoria, and just him.

His eyes were still on your teary ones, admiring you, a little overwhelmed himself. Seeing you finally debut after the months he'd spent with you, singing together, dancing, doing everything he could to make sure you were ready when the day came, got him a little teary eyed, too. You'd done so well, and he felt so lucky to have gotten to be there by your side for all of it.

“I'm so proud of you.” He said, his hands moving down from your shoulders, along your arms. His eyes held so much warmth behind them, the sweet words along with his hands on you, and the way he never took his eyes away from you, had you reeling, stomach doing flips. For a second you swore his face was getting closer to yours, and his eyes flickered down to your lips. The tension seemed so thick, it became unbearable.

You threw your arms around him, and you kissed him.

At first he took a step back, stumbling a bit, too surprised to fully react. But before you had the chance to pull away, his hand was holding your face against his own, returning the same kind of passion you showed him.

Baekhyun, your endlessly kind, lovely, talented, handsome, funny, charming mentor, was kissing you back. With his free arm, he circled your waist and pulled you closer, flush with his chest. The hand on your face held you close so softly, asking, not demanding, for more contact, for this to not end so quickly. He gave you every chance to pull away, to stop him, but you didn't, you only melted into his affection even more.

The knock on the door pulled you both rudely back to reality. Your lips parted, and as you stared at one another, what you'd just done started to sink in. Baekhyuns’ face fell in a way you’d never seen before, and then he was gone. He walked through the door with all the horror disgust he felt towards himself clearly evident and the knot in his stomach nearly made him sick.

He knew he made a huge mistake. He fucked up so incredibly badly.

You stood there stunned, a million things running through your head, and collapsed under the weight of it all.

The stylist was confused to say the least after first witnessing Baekhyun’s swift exit and next finding you, sitting on the floor crying. Thankfully she excused herself and let you be.

Baekhyun kissed you, and then just walked out, leaving you alone and confused. The guilt nearly ate him alive. Returning your kiss crossed so many lines and he should've known better, and he did, but you caught him so off guard, in such an emotionally charged moment, it just happened. The sudden euphoria of realizing that you were kissing him overpowered any rational thought. He knew he must be insane.

And of all days, it was the day of your debut.

He had to make this right.

He returned to your waiting room but it was already empty. He kept walking around the building trying to find you, even running into your bandmates, but you were nowhere to be found.

Then he tried calling you, but he was sent to voicemail after the first ring. You declined his call. Finally he texted you, although he really didn't want to have this conversation over text. He knew he needed to do a better job at apologizing than just sending a few texts

“Can we please talk about this? I'm so sorry I just walked out, I wasn't thinking, I need to talk to you.”

You didn't reply.

The next day he called again, and still you didn't pick up.

The truth was, you were too embarrassed. Seeing him again, after he'd rejected you like that, was just too mortifying to consider. You felt so stupid. Of course kissing him was an outrageously dumb thing to do. He was your mentor, of course anything romantic was off the table. But you had a crush, and the adrenaline, combined with how sweet he was to you, made you lose any sense of reason.

Stupid little girl, kissing the man she never even had a chance with, because her emotions got the best of her.

But then why did he kiss you back?

That was what drove you insane. Of course you had a crush on him, it was painfully obvious from the first day you'd met him, but he'd always stayed professional, never giving you any reason to think that it was anything more than how a fan feels toward their idol, and that it ever would be. Unfortunately for you, your feelings towards him only got stronger over time.

Baekhyun had convinced himself that it was a good thing you liked him, that with him as your mentor, you'd work that much harder. He thought it was cute, the same way he thought of other fans' attitudes towards him, during fansigns and the like. He hadn't considered that maybe he'd gotten a little too close with you, that those lines started to feel blurred. In reality, you weren't just another fan, you were far from it. You were a real friend, you knew him.

It was easy for him to understand why you didn't want to see or talk to him after what happened. He knew he messed up, both when he kissed you back, and when he left the room. He couldn't even imagine what must've been going through your head. He hoped you weren't blaming yourself, sure you're an adult, but at ten whole years older than you, he knew he was the one responsible for making sure things stayed appropriate between you two, and he'd failed.

To his relief, you still did amazing for the rest of the debut promotions. He watched every performance, wishing he could've been there to support you.

Because of how busy you were you'd agreed a while ago to skip lessons for the first two weeks after debut, and as the days dragged on, Baekhyun was starting to worry that he wouldn't get to see you again for a lot longer than he'd like. He still knew he needed to apologize to you, and the longer you avoided him the guiltier he felt.

When promotions ended and he still hadn't heard from you, he reached out to your manager, asking when you'd have time for a lesson again.

She assured him that you'd be there next week at the same time and place as usual, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The days before the lesson dragged on for what felt like ages to him, but at least there was an end in sight.

When the time finally came, you were mortified, almost as badly as the first day you'd met him, or during your first lesson together, maybe even worse. He greeted you just as warmly as he always did, emphasizing how well you'd done during all the performances, and how he wished he could've been there for you. He did everything he could to try and relieve some of the tension and awkwardness, but you weren't there yet.

You were bright red, hating the unpleasant heat sweeping over you, burning your cheeks and making you uncomfortably sweaty. You couldn't talk to him, or even make eye contact, you were still too ashamed.

“Y/n?” You saw in your peripheral how he looked at you, and your eyes started to water. “I need to apologize for what happened after the showcase, I'm so sorry, I never should've put you in that situation, or kissed you back, or just left like I did. I was being reckless and stupid, the fault is all mine, and I understand if not, but I really hope you can forgive me.”

His heart sank when you started to cry, and although he'd told himself a million times that he wouldn't, that any physical contact with you was inappropriate, he still ended up holding you, giving you a shoulder to cry on.

“I'm such a fucking idiot.” You eventually let out between sobs, and he detached himself from you, finally meeting your eyes.

“Please don't say that, this is all on me. I'm the one who fucked up, not you.”

“But I'm the one- I-”

“Because I was being inappropriate. Like I said, I shouldn't have put you in that situation, that was my mistake.”

“I'm just so embarrassed.” It came out barely above a whisper.

“Nobody saw us, and I could never judge you for that. I know you just got caught up in the moment.”

You did your best to smile and nod, but the tears just kept coming. His words were sweet but did little to mend the pain and shame you still felt.

He wanted to reach out and wipe away your tears, to hold you, to comfort you as best he could, but he knew it would only worsen things. Once again, however, when you leaned into him for comfort, he let you do as you pleased, cursing himself for letting his very necessary boundaries slip away so easily.

This was bad, he knew it was. He didn't have the strength to push you away though he really should've. If this was going to continue, he had to do better, but he was coming to terms with the fact that he just wasn't able to.

He stayed holding you until the tears eventually slowed down, and came to a stop. Now that your face wasn't buried in his chest anymore, he shot you a soft smile. “Do you want to get to singing?”

Finally, you let out a small laugh. “Do we have to? Can we just talk? I missed you.”

He sighed, but nodded. He'd missed you too, but saying so didn't feel like a good idea.

He kept the conversation light, trying to make you laugh, anything to brighten your mood, if only for a little while. When the end of the lesson came, he knew he was going to have to be the bearer of bad news.

“Next week I promise we can actually sing again.” You told him as he led you to his car to bring you home.

He took a few deep breaths, and you were on your way to your dorm when he finally replied.

“I don't think it's a good idea for me to be mentoring you, or giving your lessons anymore.”

“What?”

He stopped at a red light, and the look of hurt and disappointment he saw when he looked over at you made his throat feel tight.

“I'll talk to your original voice teacher, to see when he can fit you into his schedule again, now that you're getting more advanced it'll be better for you to train with him anyway.”

You felt your lip start to quiver again. “You just don't want to be around me anymore now, I get it.” You mumbled, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice.

Baekhyun’s eyes squeezed shut for a second, “it's really not that, not at all.”

He was pulling up to your dorm and you just wanted to get away from him now before he saw you start to cry again. “You don't have to keep lying to me, I know I'm the one who fucked everything up with that stupid kiss.”

He parked, trying to think of how he could finally convince you that it wasn't your fault, but you were reaching for the door before he had the chance to say anything.

“Y/n, wait, please-”

You were already gone though, shutting the door behind you. As soon as you were outside of his car the tears came, and you tried to wipe them away as best you could as you hurried to your dorm.

When you got to the elevator you prayed nobody would see you like this. You'd spent so much of the evening in tears, you knew you looked an absolute mess. You just wanted to get to your room where you could finally be alone and let it all out.

“Y/n, wait!”

You turned around, and there he was, jogging towards where you stood. Your stomach suddenly felt like it was in your throat, and then he was in front of you once again, this time taking both of your hands in his.

“I don't know what to tell you, for you to believe me, but it's not your fault, I swear. I- I don't want to stop teaching you either, really, but I can't keep being alone with you, not when I can't trust myself.”

All you could do was stare back at him, knowing that you were a tearful mess. What he was telling you didn't make any sense in your mind. You kissed him. Not the other way around.

“Please say something.” He was still panting a little as he said it, winded from having run after you.

“What does that even m-mean, you can't trust yourself? I'm the one who kissed you, and I'm definitely not stupid enough to try that again, so what does it matter?”

“I already told you, I shouldn't have put you, or us, in that situation in the first place.”

“But that doesn't fucking matter! Who cares if we're alone, we've been alone for the last two hours and it was fine.”

Only it really hadn't been fine, he knew that he shouldn't have been touching you at all.

You were staring back at him through tear filled eyes, and he felt absolutely terrible. He wanted to be able to comfort you, and eventually just gave in, throwing caution to the wind and wrapping his arms around you.

He just didn't have it in him to stand and watch you cry, knowing that he was the reason. This time he felt the way you grabbed onto the back of his shirt, keeping him from moving away.

“Please don't cry, I'm sorry, really, I just want what's best for you. We would still see each other occasionally around the company, it's not like this is goodbye forever.”

“I- I don't want lessons with anyone else. You're the whole reason I was able to debut, you can't just leave me now. Please.”

You were still holding onto him, and with every “please” you added, he was slipping. He hoped that you would eventually calm down, and he would be able to reason with you, to finally make you understand why he couldn't be around you so much anymore.

He had no such luck. All you could think about was how badly you would miss him, how lost you would feel if he stopped mentoring you, the last few weeks had been bad enough already, the only thing that got you through without him was your embarrassment and how busy you'd been. You couldn't lose him, you needed him.

Every minute that he listened to you cry because of him, he felt his rationality fade. As much as he knew he needed to distance himself, he wasn't going to do it if it hurt you that badly.

You felt him take a deep breath, and finally, a soft “okay” fell from his lips.

It wasn't until then that he felt your grip on him loosen, and you looked up at him.

“What? Really?” You sniffled, face still wet.

He nodded, running one hand through your hair, moving it from where it had started to stick to your face.

Once again, your arms were thrown around him, but at least this time, it was because you were happy. You must've said thank you to him a million times that night, as you felt the relief wash over you. Baekhyun was all too aware of the way your chest pressed against his own.

When he was finally free of your arms around him, you were beaming up at him, and he couldn't help but smile back. “You should get to your dorm before people start getting worried.”

You nodded, pressing the button and hugging him one more time before the elevator arrived.

“Bye” he waved, as you stepped inside and the doors started to shut “see you next week.”

He knew he was in too deep, and he was a fool to give in to you, but now it was too late. He was going to have to live with his decision and try to keep things from going further, but he

knew deep down that realistically, he didn’t have that kind of self control, not with you.

Baekhyun hadn’t planned on seeing you again until the next lesson, but when your debut song entered the top ten on all the major charts just a few days later, he wanted to celebrate, and invited you to a nice dinner. That day you spent hours getting ready, putting on your favorite dress and making sure your hair and makeup were perfect. You knew that it wasn’t a date, but the way you felt leading up to him arriving could’ve fooled you.

He picked you up and drove you to the restaurant, pulling up in the back where there was already somebody waiting to lead you to a private dining area where you’d be out of sight of the public. You hadn’t really thought about it, but you understood why it would probably be better for your dinner with him to stay between the two of you.

It was the first time you’d been around him just to hang out, more as a friend than a student, and you thought it was magical. You were nervous at first, still having all of the past drama with him on your mind, but he was his usual wonderful self, easily leading the conversation, making you laugh until your stomach hurt, and he too felt it, how easy and right this was. You ended up at the restaurant with him for over two hours, neither of you wanting the night to end. Finally the awkward tension from the previous weeks was gone, replaced with optimism and gratitude for still having him in your life.

When he finally dropped you off, he got out of the car to walk you inside, and you ended up alone with him, standing in front of the elevator once again.

“Thank you for tonight,” You started, “everything still feels kind of surreal, I can’t believe this is actually my life now. And it’s all thanks to you.”

“You always had it in you.” He said and smiled that lovely warm smile. You were about to press the button to take you upstairs, but he stopped you, looking around to make sure you were alone. “Wait- I know I tell you all the time that I’m proud of you and how far you’ve come, but I really can’t say it enough. I’m really lucky that I get to teach you. You have something special, truly.”

You and him got stuck in a weird place, neither one talking, but not making any effort to leave either. The way he was looking at you pulled you in, and you thought you saw something flash across his face, something you hadn’t seen before. He stepped closer, close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin, and your heart rate skyrocketed, confused. He wasn’t sure what came over him, he must be insane.

“Baekhyun?” You barely whispered, but he didn’t explain himself, instead he leaned in, and he kissed you.

Your mind was going a million miles a minute and it made no sense to you whatsoever, but he was kissing you, softly, sweetly, like something out of one of the many day dreams you’d had about him. As quickly as it started he was pulling away again, his face tinted a deep shade of pink, smiling a bit bashfully at you, still too shocked to react.

“Goodnight.” He whispered, and then he was walking back to his car.

After that, things felt completely different with him. The hugs got longer, his words sweeter, and every time he dropped you off, he’d again kiss you goodnight. It wasn’t only after your weekly lessons together that he would drive you around either, you and him began to spend more and more time together, and had to get more and more cautious about not being seen.

You would sneak out in big hoodies with a mask on to walk to where he was waiting in the parking lot, just to drive around all night with him in one of his fancy cars, talking, singing, and sometimes pulling off to the side of a quiet road where he would lean over and kiss you, though it never went any further. He knew that sneaking around with and kissing his student was bad enough, anything more, and in public, would be a whole different kind of stupid.

Both of you started to lie a lot, to your managers, friends, anyone really who would question or even just ask about your relationship. To everyone else, he was still just your mentor, a strict student-teacher agreement and no more. The lying should’ve been your first clue as to how wrong it all was, but you were blinded by your feelings for him. Getting to be alone with him, kiss him, and talk to him about things no one else knew was too all consuming for you to even think twice about it.

How you talked to each other changed too. When you were alone with him he would call you baby, treating you less like a student, or even just a friend, and more as a lover. You should’ve been happy, thrilled, even, and you were when you were with him, but when he’d drop you off and you’d be alone in your dorm again, you’d break down.

The late nights together, the romance, the kisses, they were all wonderful in the moment, but afterwards you’d always part ways, realizing that it was all fleeting, that any relationship beyond what you already had with him was impossible, because no matter how you might feel about each other, you were still his student, and far too young to be involved with him in any deeper way. No number of kisses or secret rendezvous would make him yours, he made that clear. You would always end up alone in your dorm at the end of it all, crying, knowing it would never turn into anything more.

Seeing him during lessons was a different experience now. There would be other people around, and they didn’t think twice seeing you together, but you and Baekhyun would give each other knowing looks, or he’d wink at you, or something else to signify your little secret. You and him almost had a special secret language, joking with each other often with little more than a glance.

Even your manager didn’t know about you and him, she knew that he was mentoring you, but she’d known him for so long, she never even suspected that he might be acting inappropriately with you, he just didn’t seem like that kind of guy.

The two of you had everyone fooled, and while it felt exciting on the surface, it also grew a new kind of shame within you, knowing that what you were doing was deeply wrong.

What you had with him wasn’t real, and never should or could be, and it was starting to tear you apart. It took you weeks of working up the courage to do so, but finally, during a lesson, you decided you were going to confront him with all of it.

“Can I ask you something?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “Sure.”

“But you have to promise you'll answer honestly!”

“Okay! I promise.”

You took a deep breath. “What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. The sneaking around, the kissing, what is that about?”

He'd been perfectly relaxed, but you could see how he tensed up as he realized what you were talking about.

“Y/n, I don't think it's a good idea for us to talk about that right now-”

“You said you'd answer!”

A long sigh left him, eyes squeezing shut for a second. “Okay, okay. I’m just doing what feels right. You know I like you, but you also know that we can’t just act like we’re together either.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Cause it’s inappropriate? We both know that this entire arrangement hasn't been appropriate since you decided to mentor me, knowing that I have a huge crush on you.”

You wanted to finally hear it from him, wanted him to admit that he'd been just as irresponsible as you, and Baekhyun didn't say a word. It was the hard truth that he'd been trying for so long to avoid, and you threw it right in his face.

“Ever since then it feels like you've been slowly leading me on, acting like we have something special but never letting it feel completely real, when you're the one who started all this in the first place, and let it get this far.”

He stared at you, and he knew he couldn't keep it up anymore, couldn't keep ignoring it. He saw your hurt and frustration clear as day, and finally, he broke.

“I'm a fucking idiot. I know I am, I'm an idiot and knew that getting so close with you was a terrible idea but I ignored all of that because I like you too much, I never intended for us to end up like this and feel like a huge asshole because I know I'm in a position where it's completely wrong of me to touch you at all because of how we met and the power dynamic but still every time I see you that's all I can think about.”

“Do you really not understand how cruel you're being?”

You scoffed at how genuinely confused he looked.

“I've liked you so much for so long, you know I have, and you just waltz into my life and start talking to me and then teaching me and then offering to mentor me, when you know I can't help but fall for you. You even make it clear that you like me back, inviting me out with you and kissing me but never truly acknowledging what it means, it feels fucking awful. You keep stringing me along because you like me even though you know you can't give me what I really want. You're such a selfish asshole for that.”

Your voice grew less and less stable and Baekhyun saw how the tears gathered in your eyes, threatening to spill over.

He knew there was no use trying to argue with you, he'd gotten himself into this mess and he knew he was the one to blame. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. But it can’t go on like this, it hurts too much.”

The small room fell silent and all you could do was stare at each other. You looked so defeated, the guilt nearly brought him to tears, and he did the only thing he could think to do.

He held your face in his hands, bringing you close, letting his lips meet your own.

Kissing him was just as electrifying as it always was, only this time, he didn't stop, didn't hold back. You got lost in the feeling, savoring the familiar taste and feel of finally getting what you craved again. This time though, it couldn't end the way it always did. Something had to change, so you pulled away.

“You can’t just kiss me again and then keep on the same way. Please, I need more.”

His face fell, because he knew he couldn’t give you that. “Y/n, I’m sorry, but you know why I can’t do that, why it has to be like this.”

And he was right, of course you understood, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. It would be the end of his career if he was seen with you, and even his close friends would be raising eyebrows. He was so much older, your teacher, and your idol. What you wanted was completely impossible. “I care about you, a lot, you know I do. I also wish it wasn’t like this but we don’t have another choice.”

“So what? You keep stringing me along, and I just have to live with it? Knowing that no matter how much we may want it, we’ll never be able to be together?”

He sighed, and frowned at how sad you looked. “Can’t we just be grateful for what we do have?”

You shook your head, “I want too much.”

Despite everything you said, you and him both knew that you wouldn't be able to walk away, and neither would he. So when he took your face in his hands, whispered another “I'm sorry,” and kissed you again, you melted into him effortlessly.

It was heated and messy, both letting out all your grief and frustration, clinging to each other almost desperately. He kissed you harder, deeper than he had before, until this time he was the one to pull away, though he didn't move far, looking at you with a look that while apologetic, was still hopeful.

“I can't give you what you want, but if we're careful, I can take you home with me. For tonight, we can act like it’s real.”

Before, taking you home with him had always been off the table. You were both too easily recognizable, and being seen in his building together would make it dead obvious that your relationship was more than it should be, so it didn’t even seem like an option.

Wide eyed, you nodded, and not even a half hour into the lesson he was sneaking you carefully out of the practice room, and then the building, into his car. You texted your manager some bullshit excuse as to why you'd be gone for the night, and then you were on your way to his place, for the very first time.

You could hear the rapid pounding of your own heart as he drove you through the night, unsure but excited. Even if it was only for one night, and he was risking far too much, you were going to hold onto whatever you could get.

When he pulled into his building’s garage, he gave you a hat and a mask to put on, he pulled up his hood and put his own mask on, saying a short prayer before getting out of the car, and walking in with you. If anyone saw and recognized you both, he would be fucked, so he hurried, and luckily you made it to his apartment without running into anyone.

Once inside you both let out a sigh of relief. You were alone with him, truly alone, no chance of passers by seeing you, or label mates catching onto your relationship, just you and him, all night.

When you felt his hand on your own, pulling you closer, it robbed you of your breath. He took his mask off, and then yours, and leaned in, though his lips only barely met your own before he was looking at you once again. “I’ve wanted you so badly, and I know it’s wrong and I’m an idiot and an asshole for doing this, but I just can’t bring myself to stay away from you.”

“So don’t. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. I’m all yours.”

You looked up at him, eyes sparking with all the hope and clueless naivety he should expect from you, a girl of barely twenty, who’d grown up loving him, and was powerless not to fall into his trap, whether he’d set it on purpose or not. He was a man ten years your senior, who positioned himself as an authority figure in your life, someone who should never touch you, kiss you, or anything even close.

The guilt manifested as a lump in his throat, knowing that your feelings for him, your willingness to ignore how wrong it all was, were because of him.

Still, he kissed you, with a kind of passion that was new to you both. Without any risk of getting caught, he let himself hold you tighter, let the kiss get more and more heated. He led you to the couch, where you ended up on his lap, his hands on your hips as his lips wandered to your neck, kissing, biting, enough to make you gasp and shiver, but not leave marks.

For you it was otherworldly, lightheaded and dizzy with disbelief as his hands and lips stayed glued to your skin, finally living out the fantasies that played in your head when you laid alone at night, longing for him. You’d kissed boys in the past, but none of them came anywhere close to the way he made you feel. You were convinced nobody could ever make you feel the things Baekhyun could, and all he’d done was kiss you. He wasn’t some boy, he was a man, he knew what he was doing, and you wanted more. Every last little piece of him.

The restraint was gone. He wanted you just as badly, and that was all he could focus on. When you pushed your hips further into him, he groaned at the friction, easily getting carried away. You felt, looked, sounded, tasted, even smelled divine to him. He’d been hard for a good while already, and this time when you rolled your hips and he felt you against him, he let out a satisfied groan.

That only encouraged you further and you kept moving, lips moving heatedly against his, as you started to get yourself off against him, his hands on your ass guiding you.

“I want more.” You breathed out when he pulled back for air. “Where’s your bedroom?”

Baekhyun didn’t answer, rather he stood, your legs still wrapped around him as he carried you away, until gently laying you down on his mattress.

With you he became a gentle, caring lover. Maybe it was your age, or the fact that he’d been your mentor, but the way he touched you was like you were something precious. Like if he wasn’t careful, you would break. Even as he positioned himself between your thighs, he was cautious, never moving too quickly, watching for any hesitation on your end.

But there was none, your desire for him was all-consuming in a way that was hard to understand, even in the moment. Without him pressed against you, you felt like you might actually die.

“I’m not made of glass, Baek. You don’t have to be so careful.”

“I know, I just… I want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I want this to be special.”

When his lips met yours for the nth time that day, you started to tug on his clothes, until his shirt was being pulled over his head and he got to work undressing you as well. One by one he took off your blouse, followed by the skirt you were wearing, next unhooking your bra, until all that was left on your body was a pair of lacy underwear. Still desperate for his affection, you kept your lips glued to his all you could, the added feel of his warm skin against your own stealing any rationality from your mind. All you could think of was him, you wanted him in a way you didn’t even know was possible.

He froze above you when your hand reached down, trying to get the button of his jeans undone.

Even the few seconds when his touch left you completely as he finished undressing himself felt torturous. A breath got stuck in your throat when you felt his hands at your hips, slowly pulling the last piece of clothing from your body before reclaiming his place between your thighs.

As your eyes met his and he started to move closer, you realized that there was something he needed to know.

“Wait- I should probably tell you, I’ve never done this before.”

You watched as the color drained from Baekhyun’s face, eyes wide. He hadn’t even considered that you might be a virgin, you were old enough to have some experience, but it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise to him either. Those five words hit him like a punch in the gut.

He rolled off of you, hands running through his hair, eyes squeezed shut. “God, this is so fucked up.”

You sat up, taking one of his hands and he looked at you with uncertainty. “It’s not a big deal, but I’m sorry if that was a bit of a shock.”

He gave you a sympathetic, but worried look. “It is a big deal though, at least to me. This would be irresponsible enough if it wasn’t your first time, I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t want to be responsible for how you’ll feel afterwards.”

His words made your heart sink and a lump form in your throat. “What? No, please, Baekhyun, trust me, there isn’t anyone in the entire world that I would rather do this with than you, here and now. Please. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything this badly.”

“You have to realize how tough of a spot you’re putting me in.”

“I don’t care. I just want you, I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life. Please.”

You moved closer to him, linking your hands behind the back of his neck, taking him with you as you fell back onto the mattress. He looked down at you, still unsure.

“Please.”

He shushed you with another kiss, but had his own conditions if he was really going to be your first. “You have to tell me immediately if you feel uncomfortable at all, or if it hurts, and you can stop me at any point if you don’t want it anymore.”

You could see in his eyes the concern and uncertainty he was feeling, but you had gotten this far, and you knew what you wanted, and you wanted it bad. You nodded, and he was between your legs once again, the anticipation rising.

Baekhyun didn’t miss the way you gasped at the first touch of his length against your inner thigh. He wanted to make sure you were ready, that it didn’t hurt too badly, so he started with one finger inside you, slowly working it in and out, before adding a second. The wetness and your whimpers told him you were more than ready, easily taking his digits, and finally, he moved to replace them with his length.

You felt him position himself at your entrance, and you were certain you’d never felt that kind anticipation before, leaving you a shaking, panting mess underneath him.

You felt his hand softly against your cheek, and your eyes opened to meet his. “Y/n, baby. You’re sure you want this?”

You nodded without even a second of hesitation. “Yes, god, please.”

The softness of his kiss was a stark contrast to the intrusion of him pushing inside, the pain making your eyes squeeze shut and a whine pass your lips.

He stopped moving when he saw your reaction, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. “Am I hurting you?”

It did hurt, but your desire overpowered any sign of discomfort. “Please don’t stop.”

With his forehead pressed to yours he kept going, until his hips were flush with yours. He felt your discomfort in how tense you were, staying still to let the pain subside.

“Baekhyun, please.”

You might’ve not minded the pain, too concerned with the intense need for more, but he wasn’t going to move until he knew you were okay.

“I know it hurts baby, you have to relax, can you do that for me?”

You whined in response but realized that he was right, you were extremely un-relaxed, and as you made a conscious effort to let go of all the tension in your body, the pain faded away.

He felt it, and saw how you melted into the mattress, and took it as his cue to start moving.

The first thrust had your back arching, moaning his name and he just kept going, setting a slow rhythm. You clung to him, moaning unabashedly, losing yourself to the new and incredible feeling of him inside you. Nothing could’ve prepared you for it, this was so much better than anything you’d been able to come up with in your own fantasies. Just the weight and warmth of him on top of you overwhelmed you, combined with the feeling of him pushing in, pulling out almost completely each time, before sinking back into you, it was like your own personal heaven. He was your own personal heaven.

It only got better as he kept moving, that familiar warm feeling building in the pit of your stomach. You’d had orgasms before, but what you could do with your own hands didn’t even compare to what he was doing to you. It was a wholly different, and far more intense sensation.

His lips collided with yours in a messy, lustful haze, praises passing his lips in between breaths. “You feel so good baby, so perfect, so beautiful.”

Those words heightened everything even more, his low voice sending chills running down your spine.

“Baek, please.”

You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore, you were just imploring him for more, everything and anything he could give you, you wanted it. The feeling of him rolling his hips into you again and again clearing your mind, your pleasure and desire all consuming.

However he could see it in your eyes, how you needed more, and picked up the pace. The way he pushed himself into you, now faster, and with more force, had the tightness in your belly growing more intense by the second.

The build up was more intense than you ever knew possible, losing control as he continued his ministrations, until all at once, you fell.

The orgasm raged through you, leaving every nerve ablaze, as you shook and gasped at the overwhelming wave of pleasure.

Above you, Baekhyun was losing control too, still pushing inside deeply, teetering on the edge, but your fucked out expression combined with the way you clenched around him had him reaching his high soon after you, shuddering with a moan as he let go.

For a minute you both stayed just like that, panting, gasping, letting the climax slowly fade, until there was nothing left but a tangled web of sweaty limbs.

When he pulled out and rolled off of you, the loss of his warmth made you whine. You barely even noticed when he got up, soon returning with a wet towel, and cleaning you up.

He settled in next to you, and you smiled when his arm wrapped around you, pulling you into him.

Luckily the exhaustion did well to lull you to sleep, any painful thoughts being pushed to the morning, but you wouldn’t be able to escape them forever.

He woke you up with a kiss on the cheek, and at first it all felt so nice, so tender and intimate, in bed together with him as the sun began to poke through the curtains. Slowly he got up, and you followed, feeling the dull ache between your thighs as you stood.

Seeing the way you grimaced at the soreness, he was quickly at your side. “Shit, sorry.” He muttered.

You just let out a small laugh. “It’s okay, it was worth it, at least. Definitely worth it.”

He smiled, pulling his clothes on as you gathered your own, before doing the same. “Let’s get you home, before it gets busy and people could see us leaving here together."

There it was, the rude call back to reality. That your night with him was over, that now you would have to hide again, to sneak around, and constantly be reminded that he wasn’t really yours, and never would be.

Stupid, foolish girl.

You managed to make it back home without being spotted, and even his kiss goodbye couldn’t keep the sadness from taking you over. He noticed it too, how you seemed to shut down after making it to his car.

Back in your room, you let it all out, letting the tears seep into your pillow. Once again, he’d turned you into a complete mess, the pain and frustration leaving you broken.

Nobody could ever again give you what he could, could make you feel what he could. It was him, the man you’d looked up to and admired for so many years, and now after having slept with him, it was clearer than ever.

That was the nature of your relationship with him. You were powerless to him, and no matter how much it would ruin you, you'd let him do it, over and over again.

For him, you would ruin yourself, a million little times.

#baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun fic #exo fic #baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #kpop smut #baekhyun angst #exo angst

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just-some-random-blogger · 7 months ago

Text

Why Not Me? | 1

Part 2

Love is beautiful. Love is lovely. But lately, to you, love is a form of self-harm.

Rockstar!Gwayne Hightower x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, Modern AU, low key fix-it-fic, canon divergence, DD:DNE, body dysmorphia, body shaming, smut (cunnilingus, piv, biting, marking, licking, they're messy yall), fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: THIS INCESTUOUS SHOW i changed the family tree for the sake of this fic and ive FIXED EVERYTING SHUT UP you cant do anything about it anyway ok ok ok. im half sorry it became so long. idk how many parts i wil do T_T save me. also i cross posted this on ao3 MASTERLIST/PLAYLIST

Tagging: @ceoofyearning @pendragora @worms-on-multiple-strings @barbieaemond

You can hear the live music playing from the inside your car. You take a deep breath and look at yourself on your phone before stepping out. You smile and fix your hair, "maximum slayage has been achieved."

You exit the camera app, catching the text icon when you do. You bite your lip. Your thumb itches. You open it, checking the last message you have that you've not replied to.

From Harwin: Are you at your sister's already? Can we call?

You clench your jaw and place your phone in your purse. You sling your purse on your shoulder and grab the cake on the passenger seat. You tell yourself to forget about the text as you walk towards the open gate of the white picket fence.

You smile at the garden, happy to see it in real life again and not just during video calls. You brush off your iridescent, pink dress before ringing the doorbell. As you wait, you look around the neighborhood. All the houses here were as expensive as the one next to it.

The door opens. You turn back and grin as Alicent squeals, "YOU'RE HERE!"

"I'M HERE!"

She can't help but kiss your cheek before leading you inside. You talk and walk, and the moment you set the cake down, your best friend immediately seals you into a hug, both of you squealing.

When you break away, you lift your eyes to the chandelier and point, "is that the new chandelier?"

Alicent beams and spins beneath her beloved light source, "yes! I swear to the Mother if someone fucks up my chandelier again-"

"Oh, ho, ho, ho!"

Both of you turn to the man waltzing in with horrible dance moves, "speak of the devil." Viserys walks over to you, coming in for a hug, "she returns! Alicent's been waiting on you for ages."

You share a hug while Alicent makes a face, "can you blame me? She works at the fucking edge of the world!"

You pull away and raise a hand, "okay, one, dramatic-"

"No it's not," she red haired woman crosses her arms, "you literally work next to Harrenhal."

"That is a gross simplification," you wave your hand, "and two, why don't you visit me for a change?"

"In your shitty apartment?" she makes a disgusted face, "no."

You make an offended noise and glare at Viserys, "you've turned her into a stinky bourgeoisie!"

Viserys makes a face and Alicent shakes hear head. She places a hand on your shoulder, "no babes. Your apartment is simply crappy."

You make another offended noise and shake her hand off. You turn back to her fiance, "anyway. Happy birthday, Viserys!" you motion to the box on the counter.

"Is that what I think it is?" he gasps.

You scoff for effect, "yah."

Viserys opens the box and makes a dramatic sound at the sight of the chocolate cake. He turns to Alicent, who shakes her head and sniggers. The man whisper-yells, "triple chocolate cake!!!"

You laugh. Your best friend repeats, "triple chocolate cake. Now what do we say?"

Viserys seals you into a tight hug. You squeal when he pulls you up enough for your feet to leave the floor. He groans excitedly as he puts you down, "oh, you are perfect, my dear. Thank you so much."

The overly affectionate gesture leaves you a bit awkward, but you play it off with a chuckle, "you're welcome."

Alicent clicks her tongue when Viserys swipes some frosting and licks his fingers, "Viserys. Get a plate."

"Oh, fuck, I feel like I'm in uni again," he sighs at the sweet taste, "should I grow out my hair?" He rubs the trimmed sides of his hair.

Alicent cringes, "absolutely not. You looked like a sickly lord in uni."

"But love-"

"Oh, I knew you were here."

You look over your shoulder. Your stomach drops. You shift awkwardly as Daemon walks towards you with a grin. "Figured from Alicent's squealing," he says before pulling you into a hug.

He rubs your sides and it makes you feel overly conscious. You mutter as he pulls away, "how've you been, Daemon?"

"You know me-"

"High as a fucking kite?" Viserys answers for him as he takes a slice of cake.

Daemon flips him off but smiles at you, "just dandy, love. And you?"

"Oh, you know, wet."

Alicent slaps a hand on her forehead.

Viserys snorts.

Daemon raises his brows.

You realize your mistake and backtrack, "n- no- I mean, cause- cause Riverlands!"

He snorts and your body tingles. He shakes his head and sighs, "and here I thought it was because of me."

Alicent raises her brows and takes that as a cue to leave. She pulls Viserys back, who whines because he hadn't gotten his cake yet. She slaps his arm and lies about needing to check on something.

"Did you bring someone?" Daemon asks.

Your stomach rolls at the insinuation he was interested in knowing if you had a date. You dramatically look around, "do you see anyone?"

He purses his lips and shakes his head, "well, I was hoping your sister would come around."

You stiffen. Your sister? You manage a chuckle to play off the stinging in your gut; it doesn't sting any less though. You half-smile, "Mysaria's in Lys."

He raises his brows, "still?"

You knit your brows, "still?"

"I just figured her vacation would be done by now."

You feel your eye twitch. You raise a finger, "how'd you know she's on vacation?"

Daemon simply shrugs, "I follow her on Unstagram."

A scoff spills from your lips as your brows raise, "she let you follow her?"

"Yeah," he shakes his head and furrows his brows, "why wouldn't she?"

You clench your jaw. You feel your skin crawl. It's as though your body was being stretched into oblivion. You press your lips into a tight smile and rub your belly as your agitation builds. You shake your head and shrug, "I didn't think you were that close. She's pretty private."

Daemon is supposed to say something, but then his attention is stolen by the sound from outside.

"This next song is called Breathless," followed my cheering.

His expression shifts. He throws his thumb over his shoulder, "shit. I uh... I have something-"

You nod before he can finish and Daemon effectively runs off.

Once you're alone, you let it catch up with you, the loathing, the disgust. You look around you and feel bile rise up your throat. Everything was beautiful. Everything was pristine and put together. From the color of the walls, to the furniture, even to the tiny pieces of décor.

This is Alicent's dream home. She found a man that loved her and he got her that white picket fence she's always wanted. She's living her dreams because... she's someone's dream girl.

You walk towards the mirror in the common room and stare at yourself. The makeup you spent hours on and the sundress you overindulged in now looked lack luster. Whatever convincing you did in the car has gone. You think about Alicent. You chuckle bitterly as you think of your sister, "oh, Mysaria." You were nothing but a disgusting blob, next to the statuesque her.

You grow angry at yourself when your eyes water. You pace around to calm yourself, "it's fine. I just won't eat any sweets." You force a smile at the mirror, "or carbs," you fix your hair, "I'll just have a bev. I ate already anyway."

When you no longer feel like crying, you let yourself join everyone outside.

Your eyes immediately fall at the platform and band setup across the large backyard. Viserys really went all out; there were lights, a sound system, and everything.

You try to make out the band playing. You immediately recognize Criston in his cream colored suit playing the bass, though his hair was snipped short and he had massive shades on. You knew Aemond was a guitarist but there was only a blonde with short platinum hair on the keys, and he never cut his hair, so you debated if it was really him in that leather suit jacket. But then you saw Aegon and his shaggy, jaw length hair, drumming yet again sans shirt showcasing all his tattoos and figured the other blonde had to be his brother.

Then, of course, there was Gwayne. If you couldn't recognize him by his guitar playing, or his distinct baritone, then you would by smirk and auburn hair. You sure did. There was a bit of sheen on his forehead, but even then he moved as cool as a cucumber. He looked good in his dark blue suit. I mean, they all did.

You remember Alicent talking about how excited Viserys was to have Oldtown play for his birthday, how they cleared their schedule and all. Though you weren't a close follower, you somehow felt proud of them, having watched them perform in shitty bars a couple times in university. To see them have the success they do now makes you feel honored to have been one of the few people who said they were going to make it. And judging by how people were singing along, they made it.

You were agitated by the size of the crowd. It still baffled you how many friends the Viserys had, but then your remember he's an old money businessman... and an extrovert. You rub your stomach as you search for Alicent. You spot her alone, cringing by the buffet table as she poured herself a drink. Immediately, your anxieties dissipate because of her and her unabashed dislike for her brother's music.

You walk over to her and sway your hips exaggeratedly to song. Alicent stills when she sees you, and makes a revolted sound before raising her pointer, "stop it."

"Nuh uh," you throw your hands in the air and move your hips, "it's a good song!"

Alicent rolls her eyes, which only makes you laugh.

From across the yard, Gwayne's attention is stolen. He watches how light catches in your pink skirt as you grind against his sister, much to her disgust. He smiles between lyrics, making the crowd react.

"Oh, come on, babes," you watch as your best friend chugs her drink, "you have to at least be proud of your brother."

Alicent shakes her head, "I am! I'm so glad that people like his music enough that he can perform it somewhere far away from me."

You turn to the buffet table when you catch the aroma of your favorite stew. You gulp but tell yourself you shouldn't eat. You decide to pour yourself a drink.

She catches you, "you want me to get you a plate? I ordered your favorite-"

"No," you shake your head, " 'm just thirsty."

She knits her brows, skeptical of your words as she was aware of your destructive tendencies. She decides believe your reassurance, though her gut was telling her otherwise.

She turns back to Oldtown and catches her brother looking. She shakes her head and flips him off. Gwayne chuckles, not because of her though, because you finally turn around. This entices another reaction from the crowd, which Alicent wretches over.

You sip on some punch and shoot her a look, "oh, stop being so sour, baby."

She glares and points, "you try listening to your brother and your cousins sing about the women they've shagged and tell me then if being I'm sour."

You bite your lower lip, but break into a laugh anyway, "you got me there."

Alicent's eyes widen for emphasis, "yeah. And I don't even mind it when people ask me about 'em, but I really, really don't want to know how badly you want to fuck my brother."

You laugh again, no longer holding back this time.

She laughs along. She loves seeing you this way, "you look absolutely stunnin' in your dress, by the way."

The compliment flies over your head.

"Pink is 100% your color," she says with genuine enthusiasm.

You sigh and offer a smile, "it better. This dress costs me a fucking arm."

"Well, it does," Alicent affirms, "you look like a fucking queen."

Your heart swells. Yet again, your best friend breaks into your layer of self-hatred. You nod and agree for her sake, "I really do."

The next moment, the crowd breaks into applause, signaling the end of the song. You cheer along, though you hadn't really paid attention. You turn to the stage and find Gwayne looking your way. You smile and he smirks back.

Gwayne pushes back his strapped guitar and grabs the mic, "thank you. I hope you all enjoyed our set." He shields his eyes as he looks through the crowd. He points once he spots Viserys, "happy birthday again to you, brother."

Alicent claps with the crowd. Viserys laughs as his friends shake him wildly.

"Thank you so much for your endless support, and your endless money." Gwayne chuckles before motioning, "it's been Criston, Aemond, Aegon, and-" he places a hand on his chest, "- Gwayne. We are Oldtown, and you have been a wonderful crowd."

You applaud as the band gets off the stage. They settle their instruments with their stage riders and you look back to Alicent. Before you can speak, her eyes widen as she takes a sip, "idiot in coming."

You look back where she was, brows quirking in surprise when you see her brother jogging over.

Gwayne immediately tries to snatch Alicent's drink, but as she anticipated it, she effectively dodges then chugs. He groans, "oh, thoughtful."

She manages to make a face as she gulps. Some liquid dribbles from the sides of her mouth.

"And classy," her brother's forehead wrinkles.

You chuckle at their antics and shake your head, deciding to pour the man a drink yourself.

Gwayne gives his sister an annoyed look when she sighs for effect. She wipes the corner of her mouth, "it's my drink."

"I would at least expect-" his words falter when he realizes you weren't even beside him. He cranes his neck to look at you before looking to his sister, "-you'd be willing to share after I've slaved away for your pleasure."

"Oh, I can assure you I found no pleasure in this. And have you been so out of practice 8 songs is slaving away for you?"

Gwayne chuckles but is uninterested in continuing the argument; his interest was never in his sister to begin with. He turns to you, digging his hands in his pockets, "and who might you be?"

Alicent turns between the two of you then deadpans, "seriously?"

Gwayne smirks. In his head, his sister's reaction is of being a protective friend. He's admittedly had flings with her friends before, but he's never been deterred by his baby sister's wrath.

But the truth is, that's not at all the reason why Alicent shakes her head incredulously, "my friend from college, you absolute goldfish."

He furrows his brows at Alicent.

At this point, you procure a cup of punch for Gwayne and hand it to him with a smile. He looks at you then the drink you're holding out. He takes it with a smirk, making sure your hands brush as you do. Oh, he is smitten.

None of that registers to you. You return his smirk with a genuine smile.

It doesn't register with Alicent either, which is why she complains about something else entirely. Her lips curl, "you've done it now. You've fed his ego. He's going to be insufferable."

You shake your head and laugh.

Gwayne licks his lips, laughing along, body tingling at the sweet sound of your voice. He does not look his sister at all as he replies, "I've always been insufferable."

You catch his look. Alicent rolls her eyes, "oh, thank gods he's at least self-aware."

Again, Gwayne reacts; he chuckles, but his eyes do not leave you. He shakes his head, "did you transfer after I graduated?"

You knit your brows at the notion, "no," you chuckle, "I'm actually your junior. I took Music Production at King's Landing too."

His face falls and his brows raise.

You chuckle brighter as you nod, "yeah... we were even classmates in, what, two subjects?"

Gwayne wipes his face. You laugh at his stressed expression. "No fucking kidding," he clutches his jaw. He shakes his head again, "what classes did we share?"

You press your lips together in thought, "the... one with Mr. Boldwood."

"Are you serious?" he mutters, "the one where we scored horror films?"

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember you added sound effects instead of music and Mr. Boldwood was like, yeah don't do that, it's a scoring class, not an SFX class."

Gwayne runs his hands through his auburn hair and tugs on the collar of his dress shirt. He loosens his tie as he sighs. By the Seven, how does he not remember you?

You laugh and wave him off, "it's not that big of a deal. You were always too tired to talk in class."

That was true.

"No, it is," Alicent blurts, and he agrees. "Make him feel bad for not remembering you," she shoots him a look, "I literally went to one of your concerts with her, you imbecile. The one where you forgot your guitar and we had to drive-"

"To Highgarden?" Gwayne's jaw slacks.

"Yes, to Highgarden."

Oh, he is stressed.

You feel bad, and shake your head, "to be fair, I wasn't there when she gave you your guitar. I was the one driving and didn't get out because I didn't want to get towed."

Gwayne nods. He watches how your brows quirk and how your lips curl.

You assure him once more, "it's fine. Really... and anyway-"

"Oh, you stop it," Alicent cuts you off.

You turn to her, "but it's tru-"

"No, it's not!"

"I usually just fade in the background of people's minds. I'm not very memorable."

"You are!" Alicent argues, "Gwayne's just an fucking idiot."

Gwayne points at her, "and I am completely agreement."

Before you can respond, Daemon suddenly walks into the conversation. You turn to him, seizing up as he brushes against your shoulder. You turn to your drink and step back. Daemon says, "Viserys is asking about the mixer and-"

"Did he touch the damn mixer?" Alicent says, "I told him not-"

"I told him the same thing," he raises his hands.

She groans and rolls her eyes. She raises a hand in regard before walking off, "gimme a sec."

Daemon follows her. Your eyes follow him, allowing yourself to look a while longer than you should have.

You best believe Gwayne catches it all. His lips twitch and his brows pull back in annoyance. He mutters pointedly, "so Daemon, huh?"

You turn to him, "w-what?"

He chuckles dryly at your coyness. He takes a sip before glaring at the said man, "so you have a thing for annoying cunts?"

Your face falls.

He shakes his head before tilting it, "the imbecile has no redeeming qualities. It's an anomaly why woman chase after him." He scoffs, expression growing even more bitter, "probably his money." He drinks some more punch, cringing at how sweet it was, then finally turns back to you.

He is both annoyed yet subtly amused by how affected you are by his dislike for the Targaryen rat. He sighs, "for what it's worth he, himself, thinks I'm also an annoying cunt."

You raise your brows, realizing he wasn't just saying this. Then out of nowhere, you find it incredibly stupid and downright hillarious.

Gwyane finds his expression softening at the sound of your laughter. His annoyance did not wane, but still, he smirks and brings a hand into his pocket, "switch to me instead."

You laughter dies down but it's too late, you weren't paying attention. You shake your head, "I'm sure he doesn't actually think that."

"Oh, trust me, he does."

You wipe a tear, "no way. He's actually a closeted Oldtown fan."

Gwayne laughs, loud and mocking. The taken aback giggle that leaves you is the only reason he actually starts laughing genuinely. He clutches his side and moves towards the table, "is he now?"

You watch him put his drink down, "he is! He practically ran out of the door when he heard you announce the last song."

He sniggers, "pathetic bastard," he steps closer, "but who can blame him? I quite like Breathless myself." He brushes his lips and looks you up and down, "though I much prefer someone who dances to my songs unabashedly."

You smile, unaware of him still, "oh, I'm sure you do."

Gwayne, in truth, is also unware of you, far too wrapped up in the way you smiled and how your skin glowed in this light. In his head, this conversation was going swimmingly, because when has it ever not— Which is why he says, "let's go dancing in my bedroom."

You do a double take. Your jaw drops, "I beg your pardon."

He tilts his head, "I have about a hundred records and a vinyl player. I'm sure your dress would look even prettier under my lights."

When he takes another step forward, only then do realize what's happening. His stance. His eyes. His lips. It's all coming together. It stabs into your belly and you're suddenly bleeding all over yourself.

Your breath hitches. He catches it, and causes the corner of his lips to quirk. He is pleased. "What do you say?" he leans on one leg and brings his hands in his pockets.

What do you say?

You say you were still reeling from your sobering encounter with Daemon. Of course you always knew he was a playboy and he slept around, of course you knew he would never be seriously interested in you, but realizing any sort of interest he had in the first place was because of your sister again— it doesn't hurt you any less. It hurts you more each time. The next second, you are reminded of every man who's ever shown you interest and recall what they really wanted from you.

And as your mind raced with these thoughts and the sight of Gwayne Hightower— multi-award winning Gwayne Hightower, front cover of Rogue magazine Gwayne Hightower, Oldtown hearthrob Gwayne Hightower-

"Alicent doesn't have to know," he mutters and shrugs.

Oh.

He gives a lopsided smile.

If you somehow didn't know before, you know now exactly what he wanted from you.

You turn to your feet. But Harwin...

You scoff at yourself. Who were you joking?

You feel pathetic enough for you to look up and say, "okay."

Gwayne examines your face. He notices how your expression shifted but still, his smile spreads. He reaches a hand to you and you take it without a second thought.

You walk off and you don't even bother looking for Alicent at all. Before you leave, you do encounter his cousin, Aegon. Your eyes lock as you pass each other, and so you decide to smile at him, "nice tats, Aeg."

He freezes and watches as you and Gwayne leave.

Gwayne raves as he drives, telling you about The White Walkers, how it was his favorite band and how excited he was when Oldtown got to play with them. He rambles some more before asking you about your tastes. You brush him off at first, uninterested in indulging conversation.

You shake your head, "it's not very interesting."

"I'm pretty sure I get to decide what I find interesting or not."

You watch him give you that trademark smirk of his and you want to so badly believe he wasn't just saying that to get in your pants.

You don't but you humor him, "I'm more of a jazz sort of person."

"Aha," he maneuvers the steering wheel, "so extended chords and irregular tempos get you going?"

You lean into the passenger seat and smile, "don't forget nonfunctional harmony."

His dimples deepen. He takes a turn, "so what, you're too good for The White Walkers?"

"I did not say that."

"Well," he sighs deeply, "you don't seem to want to say much so I'm going to have to make things up as I go."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at him. You look out the window and miss the way he smiles at you.

"Fine," you start, "there's an artist called Khiara. She's makes incredible music. She's Lengii, and she infuses a lot of her native sound in her music. It's stunning."

He nods, "Khiara."

"Yeah..." you give him a passing smile before looking away again, "she's great."

"I'm sure she is."

He did not mean it in a mocking way, but it comes across to you as such. You scoff and resign to watching the buildings pass.

"Are you a jazz musician by taste and profession?"

You roll your eyes at his adamance at small talk, "I'm a music teacher."

His brows quirk, "what? No way, that's-"

"Underwhelming?" you look back at him.

"Cool," he spares you a look before bringing his eyes back on the road, "you teach jazz?"

"I teach 4th graders."

"Even better," he smiles, "I couldn't teach a dog to bark even if I tried so, consider me impressed."

"Mmm. I'll add it to my CV."

He snorts.

You look out the window again, "that one rockstar is impressed by me."

He leans an elbow on the car door and brushes his lips as he chuckles. Gods, you were a dream.

When you reach his apartment, you realize just how much of a rockstar he really was. His place was huge, and he had such eccentric furnishing, from a full on display of a suit of armour, to posters of obscenely niche bands. They didn't make sense and yet they fit perfectly together. And when he said he had a hundred records in his bedroom, you think he was actually playing it down.

You both take your shoes off before entering his bedroom. Gwayne leads you by the hand and motions to his collection, "I'm sure I have something here that's jazzy enough for you."

You raise your brows at him and pull away, effectively stopping him in his tracks before he can go through his records.

His brow quirks, "what is it?"

"Did you really take me home to dance in your bedroom?"

Gwayne chuckles as you walk past him. He eyes your body as you inch towards his bed and sequentially sit by the foot. You place your hands on your knees and raise your brows at him. He licks his lips and shrugs, "did 'dancing in my bedroom' sound like an innuendo to you?"

You scoff out a chuckle and roll your eyes, "you really are an annoying cunt."

Gwayne lowers his gaze, licking his teeth. He saunters over, hands in his pockets. He stops once he is directly in front of you, "do you want me to stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Being an annoying cunt?"

"I want you to stop wasting my time," you retort, "unlike you, I work a 9-5."

He laughs, dropping his head. He raises his hands in surrender, "damn. Where did you come from? You were so smiley and sweet not even an hour ago."

You forfeit a response and simply lean back on the bed.

That wipes the smile off his face. He looks down on you, feeling his breath grow heavy at your expression. He clenches his jaw, undoes his tie, and drops to his knees.

You can't stop your lips from parting.

He rubs his hands up your shins, measuring your reaction. You simply watch as his hands disappear underneath your skirt. Your breath hitches when he squeezes your thighs. Gwayne pushes closer, and you wouldn't have minded, had he not kissed your knee.

"Wait," you reach out to his head.

Gwayne gulps as he looks up at you, eager to know where he went wrong.

"No kissing," you mutter.

He hears it, repeats it in head, then repeats it out loud, "no kissing?"

You bite your lip and stroke his cheek, "no kissing."

It takes a moment for him to realize you were being serious, and when he does, he slowly nods, repeating again, "no kissing."

You nod and straighten up. You brush your hands up his arms then proceed to unbutton his white dress shirt, "you can bite, you can lick," you lick your lips on cue, "I'll even let you spit on me—"

"Mmm, fuck."

"—but no kissing." You slip your hands into his shirt, "you good with that, Hightower?"

"Fuck," he hooks his hands behind your knees and tugs you forward. You squeak and grip his shoulders. He slots himself between your legs, "no kissing anything?"

Your breath strains when his nails drag up the inside of your thighs, trailing to your waistband. Your brush your noses together, shaking your head, "anything."

He hisses, baring his teeth. He is unbelievably compelled to kiss you. He knocks his nose into your cheek, nostrils flaring, jaw muscles feathering. He breathes against your ear, "not even here, pretty girl?"

You feel his fingers brush across your soft belly and sink past your navel. You whimper when his fingers press into your core. He tuts and bites your neck at your attempt to you close your legs, "nah, ah, ah, ah. No fair. You need to play fair with me, sweetheart."

You rest your head on his toned shoulder. You squeeze his biceps, taking a moment to relax before willingly parting your legs.

He makes a pleased sound, "good girl," he nips your earlobe, "now, say it for me. Will you play fair?"

You sigh against his trapezius as your hand clutches his neck. You lick his skin before biting and whimpering, "yes."

"Seven gods," he groans, turning to kiss you. He tilts your head back, lips nearly landing on yours, but the sight of your smeared lipstick reminds him that he can't. His mind raceswith all the things he wants to do you. He starts by smearing your lipstick with his thumb and biting your lips.

You whimper and push him by the chest.

He licks your cheek and shakes his head, "I'm not kissing you, baby."

You dig your fingers into his hair and pull him back, "annoying fucking cunt."

He laughs and pulls away. His hair is messy and your stomach drops when he swipes the lipstick on his thumb on his lower lip, "I am. Now lie down." He bunches your skirt up.

You refuse to fully lie down, wanting, no, needing to see him. His eyes stay fixed on yours as his nails bite your thighs and his teeth stake their claim. He shakes his head, nose brushing against you, "told you to lie down."

"Mmm," you comb the hair out of his face, "want to see your pretty face."

He smirks and rids you of your underwear, throwing it somewhere in the room, "we'll see."

Gwayne sinks into you, his tongue and lips lapping into your folds. He works with confidence and feasts in a way that makes you writhe. You are powerless against his finesse. Your breath strains as you fall on the bed. He grips your hips, keeping you from moving too much, and you are never not amazed at just how strong men can be, "mmm, 's what I thought."

Before you know it, all you can do is arch your back, tug his hair, and call out his name. It only inspires him to be more diligent. He basks in the power he has over you. He moans as you become increasingly frantic and curses when you come undone all over his mouth.

He allows you momentary repose as he rises from your legs. You look up at him, heart racing as he licks his lips. Fuck, he was beautiful. You wipe the sheen off his chin and feel your stomach drop when he licks your thumb.

Let it never be said that Gwayne Hightower is a talentless prick. Go say what you want about how he sings and speaks, but gods, the man can use his mouth.

It was both so quick and not quick enough until you're both naked. Gwayne has to make the conscious decision to leave bites on your skin instead of kisses, and you suppose this is the reason why he ends up trapped beneath you. You take advantage of his distraction and lose yourself as you ride him, unabashedly bouncing on his hips as your hands reveled in his toned belly. He squeezes every part of you he can get his hands on, relishing the firmness of your hips, the delicateness of your breasts, the softness of you. It was in these moments you didn't mind your build, knowing well these mortal men looked at you like a goddess.

He can't help himself and sits up to graze your skin. He leaves marks all over your throat and nips your lips every time you drive him wild with your noises. He thinks about how badly he wants you to stain his mouth with your lipstick, and in that moment, you push him back and shift your weight into his shoulders.

He curses for the nth time and brings one hand up to the base of your neck. You lean into his touch. His thumb brushes over your lips and you suck on his finger. It makes him claw at the small of your back with his other hand.

Gwayne watches the way your body quakes at the force of your actions. He commits the sight to memory as he feels his belly tighten. He pulls his thumb away with a pop and aids your movements with the thrust of his hips. You call his name out like a mantra as you feel pressure building inside you.

And then it was hot and electric. And then you felt yourself melt into a burning mess as slowly your bones turned to jelly.

You fall into his chest and catch your breath. You can feel both your hearts racing with your sweaty skin pressed together like this.

Gwayne wipes his face and brushes his hair back, mind hazy, mouth dry. Before he can bring an arm around you, you're pushing yourself up and climbing off him. He turns to your side, expecting you to lie next to him, but you make him knit his brows when you grab your dress from the floor, "where's your bathroom?"

He rolls on his belly and points, "just outside."

You cover yourself with your dress and pick up your underwear. You quickly find the bathroom and open the light. You give yourself a jumpscare when you catch reflection on the mirror.

You look like you were caught in a violent accident, with your hair messy and your lipstick in places you didn't expect. You body looked horrendous, worse under this lighting. You gulp and wonder how horny Gwyane must have been to want to take you home. You feel pathetic. You feel nasty. It's no wonder why no one's seriously interested in you. You were a disgusting fat fuck who's only point of interest is her pussy.

You wash yourself as much as you can, get dressed, and take a few deep breaths before exiting.

When you step back into his bedroom, you hear music playing. Was that-

"Khiara," Gwayne says, still sprawled on his belly, butt naked. His eyes are on his phone, "she is incredible."

You look around for your purse, wondering if it was here on in his car.

He turns to you when you do not respond, his expression dropping upon seeing you dressed. He sits up, "is something wrong?"

You spot your purse and smile to yourself, "nope. Just need to call an Ubor."

He watches you grab your purse and pull out your phone. It takes a moment for him to register what was happening. His pride is wounded, "you're not going to stay?"

"Like I said, nine to fi-"

"Tomorrow's Sunday," he leans into his thighs.

You glance at him, catching his sullen expression.

"Don't go."

You ignore the bubbling in your stomach. You chew your lip and walk towards him. He watches you intently. You rest your knee on his thigh, and he immediately straightens up to grab your hips. You take his chin and look at the mess on him, your lipstick, your slick, your spit, then whisper, "I've got things to do."

He rubs your sides, "do they do you better than me?"

Neither of you react.

You think about the convenience store you passed on the drive here. You decide you can wait for your Ubor there and pull away from him, "this was really fun, rockstar."

Gwayne huffs, lowers his gaze, and pinches the bridge of his nose, "no, wait-"

"Good night," you walk off.

He grabs his pants, "let me drive you home."

You ignore him and rush to his door, "good night."

"Wait, dammit!"

You sigh in relief once you're out his home. You forfeit the elevator and head to the stairwell. Halfway through your descent, the door above slams open, and you look up to see a frantic looking Gwayne.

"Really?! The stairs?!"

You wrap your arms around yourself, watching him runs down to you. His face is still messy. His shirt is unbuttoned, and his pants aren't zipped. He sighs, shaking his hands, "what?! what? Am I a bad driver?"

You bite your lip and shake your head.

He huffs and waves a hand, "am I a bad lover?"

Your stomach rolls. You turn to your feet, "I wouldn't know, you're not my lover-"

"Fuck- am I a bad... fuck- sexual partner!" he blurts, zipping his pants then adjusting his shoes.

"No," you chuckle guiltily, "you were... you were amazing-"

"Rate it 1 to 10," he begins to button his shirt.

You look up at him incredulously and sigh, "Gwayne, I just really want to go home."

"Then stop bruising my ego and let me take you home," he shakes his hands in frustration. You stare at each other for a moment. The look on his face makes you want to be swallowed by the ground. You go down a few steps, and Gwayne steps once before sighing. He places his hands in his pockets, "I just... I thought it was going really well."

I look up at him.

He another step forward.

Your mind races. You can't help but relive all your bad memories in this moment. The sheen on his chest tells you bad this is going to hurt if you dive into it. Gods, fucking around with someone in Oldtown? You shrug, "it was, I think."

"Then," he steps forward and grabs your shoulders, "let's at least end it on a good note." You watch him motions with his head, "and let's take the fucking lift while we're at it."

He heads for the door. You suck in a breath and simply go down.

Gwayne holds the door for you and does a double take when he sees you walking off "seriously?"

"Stairs or nothing, buddy. I need the cardio."

"Well, if it's cardio you want," he rushes after you, "I am happy to help."

You glare at him once he's beside you.

Gwayne chuckles at it, feigning a look of innocence, "I have a treadmill in my flat. I don't know what you're thinking, dirty girl." You roll your eyes, making him laugh, "well, I mean I do, you practically jumped me."

"Oh, what, like you didn't think of it."

He gasps, "I am a gentleman."

"Mmm, you must think you're cute."

"Not nearly as cute as you," he grabs your arm once you reach the next door in the stairwell, "now for the love of the Mother, let's fucking take the lift."

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strawnarrries · 2 years ago

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because im sad about the last show, here's a little imagine about y/n and harry reminiscing the past two years the night before the last show :(

warnings: mentions of sex but nothing graphic

Your eyes fluttered open and you realized it was still dark outside, a sign that it was not quite morning just yet. You're not sure why you woke up. It was like your body knew something was off because when you turned over, the bed was empty beside you.

Rubbing your eyes to clear the sleepy haze, you noticed light coming from under the closed door of the bedroom in the villa you and Harry are staying in. Getting up out of bed, you opened the door and the sudden change in lighting burned your eyes. After getting used to it, you walked towards the kitchen and spotted your husband, leaning up against the counter, sipping on something inside of a mug.

“Harry?” you hummed, walking up to him.

“Oh hey, did I wake you up? I’m sorry," he looked up at you with doe eyes and messy hair sticking up in every direction.

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t sleep.”

You popped your bottom lip out and wrapped your arms around his bare waist, his instinctively wrapping around yours after setting his mug on the counter, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just can't believe the last show's tomorrow night.”

“Aw, I know. You wanna talk about it?” you hummed, looking up at him with tired eyes.

"I'm gonna miss it. A lot," he whispered, "but at the same time I'm excited for a long break."

"It's bittersweet."

"Yeah," he nodded.

"It's gonna be weird not getting to watch you on stage every night in your sparkly outfits."

He chuckled softly, "You don't get those outfits at home, do ya?"

"No, I get you either naked or in the one stupid shirt that you refuse to throw away even though it's practically in shreds."

"Thought you loved that shirt?" he teased.

You glared up at him before changing the subject, "What'dya think you'll miss the most? Just being on stage?"

"Yeah. Performing. It's one of my favorite things in the world to do. I just get such a rush from being out there and interacting with the fans and hearing them scream my lyrics."

"And hearing them bark at you," you added.

He giggled, "Yes, that too."

"You'll be back though. It's not the end."

“You're right. I feel like this tour was just special for some reason, I dunno. I fear I’m gonna get really emotional tomorrow on stage though. I was holding back tears at the show the other night," he chuckled.

“It’s okay to get emotional. You know me and your mom will be sobbing the entire night."

He smiled softly as he cupped your jaw and rubbed his thumb back and forth across your cheek, "I've been reflecting a lot recently. So much has happened in the last two years. It's wild."

“You've done, like what, 150 shows?”

“169 tomorrow."

“Holy shit, Harry. Most of them were completely sold out too. Do you realize how incredible that is?”

“It's mad. I think this has been the most successful tour I’ve ever been on.”

“Oh, by far.”

“Gonna miss seeing everyone every day. Gonna miss the fans and being up on stage. I've had some of the best shows of my life on this tour.”

“Harryween,” you giggled fondly at the memory that popped into your head.

“That was fun as fuck,” he giggled back.

“You’ve done more than just tour though. So many award shows, Coachella, music videos, you starred in two different movies, Harry.”

“I have,” he nodded, smiling proudly at himself, "Looking back, the amount of love and support that I've gotten from everyone, the fans, my team, my friends, and family, and from you is just - it's - it's so overwhelming like I can't even explain it to you. Like my mind can't comprehend that this is my life. Been 13 years and I still can't believe it."

"'cause you deserve it, baby. With the amount of love you give out and just the type of person you are in general, you deserve everything that's come your way. Have I ever told you how proud of you I am?" you teased, being the fact that those words leave your lips multiple times after every single one of his accomplishments.

"Never. Not once," he chuckled.

“Well, I am,” you hummed pressing a sweet kiss to his sternum, just under where his cross necklace lay, "It makes me feel so prideful that I get to call you my husband."

“Thank you, my love. You know I wouldn't be here without you.”

You rested your head on his warm chest, hugging him tighter, embracing the sweet silence before breaking it, "Can I be honest with you?”

He nodded as you looked back up at him.

“I know it's selfish but a big part of me is excited that it’s over because then I get you all to myself and don’t have to share you with the world.”

“Finally don’t have to hear you nagging for my attention all the time,” he chuckled.

“Heyyyyyy,” you whined.

“I’m joking, baby.”

You rolled your eyes teasingly.

“We have a lot to look forward to.”

“Like what?” he asked, although he knew exactly what you were referencing to, he just wanted to hear you say it.

“You becoming a daddy.”

“Really lookin forward to that. I can’t wait ‘till you have a cute little baby bump.”

“Gotta get me pregnant first.”

"You don't gotta worry 'bout that. We’re gonna be goin' at it all day every day when we’re on holiday next month,” he smirked.

“I can't even explain to you how excited I am for that. Vacation Harry is my favorite Harry."

He grinned, “I love you, Y/N."

“I love you too.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours for a few sweet kisses before you hummed sleepily, “Will you come back to bed with me now?”

“Yeah, c’mon.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry #harry imagine #harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #one direction imagine #hslot #fluff #harry fluff #one direction fluff #harry styles fluff

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xmalereader · 1 year ago

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• Private Time •

Feel free to ask for headcanons! You can also check the MKSugardaddy tag for more along with checking the Main Masterlist!

Ask made by: @uwiuwi - I'm curious about their relationship and their sex life? I mean,are their relationship ever gonna move forward to something more deep? Or is it stuck to just hugging and cuddling? And 100% is curious about their position when they have decided to do it. I mean, marc and jake will be in reader and Steven relationship too right? Or not. I'm truly sorry if i passed the line.

Steven is a bit of a shy guy.

Due to his lack of dating in the past he’s turned out to be quite vanilla during the relationship, at first. Doesn’t mean that he isn’t willing to try new things or perhaps go out of his comfort zone to try new things. When he first got into a business-ship with Y/n as his sugar baby he expected a lot of sexual favors only to get the total opposite.

Steven expected things to be rushed once their relationship became official, but instead Y/n was always gentle with Steven. He was always given morning kisses, either when he wakes up in bed with Y/n or when arriving to work. Steven loved his gentle kisses and cuddles, but there were times where he wanted more.

But, each time Steven tried to take things further he’d chicken out, growing afraid and nervous that he wasn’t going to be good enough for his boyfriend. Steven knew about Y/n’s past relationships, none lasted long, but he knew that the man had done stuff with them. Which only made him doubt if he’d ever be good in bed.

It wasn’t until they were six months into the relationship that Steven asked to take things further. He’d randomly blurted it out one night when the two were making out in bed after his boyfriend’s return home from a trip in Spain. His tie lose, buttons undone on his dress shirt, and his hair was messy. The moment between the two was tense and heated that Steven had blurted out his confession.

“Are you sure?”

Steven’s never been so sure in his entire life.

He didn’t think he’d grow addicted to him.

After their first time together, Steven grew needy. Everytime he was alone with Y/n he took advantage of the moment to get into his boyfriend’s pants. The shy and closed up Steven that Y/n knew suddenly changed into a very clingy and needy one after that night. Steven grew confident and whenever they were in the mood he’d sometimes gain the courage to try something new.

He tried leading once only to grow flustered when he ends up in a position he found strange. He gave up on his attempt and let Y/n take control, he’d rather have someone tell him what to do when it comes towards sex since he was still a bit inexperienced in that area.

There was one time that Steven grew curious about the different things that people did during sex that he actually goggled porn videos in hopes of finding something new to try, let’s just say that the man was very traumatized by the things he saw and instead decided to stick with doing the decent stuff during sex before doing something more.

Marc on the other hand loved to tease Steven about his sex life, always poking fun of him whenever he made attempts to act dominate when he failed terribly at it. There were times that Marc wasn’t present during Steven and Y/n’s nights alone, but he did take a peek every one an awhile. He couldn’t help it!

Even though Y/n knew about Marc there were times where the two bonded with each other whenever it was Marc’s turn to take over the body while Steven sat back. Marc was more blunt and the total opposite of Steven, Y/n treated Marc as a friend when the two were together. The two cared for Steven and looked out for him, even though they shared the same body.

Marc was treated more as a friend whenever the were together he’d find ways to steal Y/n’s credit cards, using them to buy himself very expensive and luxurious things. Y/n didn’t mind at all, always getting money and no matter how many charity events he hosts or participates in, he always has a little extra left.

Jake on the other hand was far different from the two. He was far more serious and rarely talked to others unless he felt like speaking to them. Both Jake and Y/n see eye to eye, reaching each other’s level. There relationship is unique, neither Steven or Marc know about him, nor do they know that they are still under Khonshus control due to Jake still partaking into the deal with the god.

One would say that they are more partners when it comes towards working with the god of Death and the god of the Moon. There time together is rare which is why he rarely sees or hears from him, letting the man decide when it’s best to finally reveal himself to both Marc and Steven.

#MKSugardaddy tag #moonknight x male reader #Sugar daddy au #jake lockely x reader #marc spector x male reader #steven grant x male reader #male reader #headcanon ask #au

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astradyke · 6 months ago

Note

I loveeeed your deep dive! Why do you think we are suddenly getting all the marriage references? “I think you’re just looking for the word husband”, “my fiancé nord VPN”, dressing each other in silly wedding attire, and many more!

(opening note that everything below is truly unedited, i know i say that every time but i get very anxious about editing my thoughts so i typically do go back-- this time, i probably will later but i really don't have much time to spare right now so if this has typos that's why! i'm sorry :c hope it's understandable)

okay hi! first of all thank you so much! i'm quite proud of it :)

i'll open this by stating that i am really not the best at articulating points about Dan, Phil, and marriage; there are many impressive theories/metas out there from incredible folks in the community, which i have lovingly absorbed (feel free to promo off this post if this is you!). but i am a very indecisive person who tends to waver on my thoughts in this subject, and i've not found myself as excitable about the latest hints they've left in this video. so, hopefully it's okay if i use your ask as an excuse to kind of... sandbox around my messy thoughts in this ballpark, and hopefully give you an apt response to your question along the way!

i said before that i waver on my thoughts about Dan, Phil, and marriage, but in actuality, i do have loose thoughts which i have stuck to, which is that i think there have been several past proposals. the following theory operates off of the idea that Phil was the one to propose; i don't necessarily think he's more or less inclined towards proposals exactly, but it kind of works better for what i have envisioned possibly happening. when i discuss this i will try to stay neutral on who does what, but that's important context especially around proposal two.

i joined the phandom in the very tail-end of the pre-II era; by the time i was really immersed approximately a year or two into discovering them, they began the promotion of interactive introverts. because of this, i really have spotty knowledge of their 'prime years' around TATINOF, etc. but i think, across their travels (possibly in Japan?) and during that period of massive fame-- where they were experiencing more security financial and in their careers, as well as becoming better situated in each other's lives off camera-- the first proposal occurred. and ultimately, regardless of who proposed to who, i think this proposal was rejected. certainly, they had a better handle of their images, but this was before Dan had disclosed his mental health to the public; this was before a proper rebrand of his content, even. Phil, similarly, had several issues i can imagine he was juggling at the time, and beyond all else-- the two of them were closeted. their flat had been located, their shipping wasn't at its max exactly but the eyes on them had risen exponentially, if they got married in any kind of formal way that would be largely problematic. 2015 was not ready for Dan and Phil, the people who literally brought YouTubers to the big stage, the golden boys in this strange collab limbo, and a well known duo act-- to actually get married.

so they resolve that, because they know each other well enough to communicate about that sort of thing, and the idea gets shelved. they move into their new flat, which they have secured to be a private space. Dan has rebranded and is opening up about his mental health, Phil has done his own stylistic rebrand, and we are approaching the II era. interactive introverts is a success, the gaming channel goes on hiatus, and Dan has decided to begin working on his coming out video. this is when, in what i imagine to be a much more casual conversation, the question gets put forward: maybe, now, marriage is a safer thing.

and it is, in some ways, but there's still more to unravel here. Dan was, for the first time, out to not only the entire world but also his close family. Phil-- who i worry sometimes has his own story understated at this point-- had been out to a few people but had undeniably been nervous to come out to everybody, too. they had a lot to explore, with this newfound freedom.

commitment and change were crowning points of this era, for Dan and Phil respectively (though, obligatory note that humans are multifaceted and they share a close life together, so both of them mutually did experience both phenomena). working in reverse: Phil would begin to experience, gradually, the onset of a chronic illness. he also had this ambiguous future ahead, as he tried to adjust to the lack of Dan in his public work-- only for COVID to arrive. his anxiety problems were increasingly going from something he could willfully avoid to something he needed to address, and that is a massive adjustment on its own. there were a lot of background changes happening with Phil, even as his content appeared to be the same-- a commitment he hadn't given up.

Dan is, in a lot of ways, the opposite of this. both Dan and Phil had committed to living in their two-flat situation together, but they were planning to move in with one-another throughout 2020. this happens amidst COVID, which crushes a lot of post-coming out plans Dan had both personally and professionally. YouTube systemically destroys his creative visions through bureaucracy and arguable exploitation of his image, and when you rewatch his video explaining this, you realize that he briefly mentions the fact that the sheer financial commitment he had to his dream work prompted him to talk to Phil and describe delaying the purchase of their house. Dan's whole life has involved commitment-- being with Phil, in its own right, has been that, as well as the BBC gig, tour work, etc.-- but you can see this conflict become pivotal as so many of these commitments tie themselves to a part of his very self, and then are ripped away from him. Dan was not ready to get married.

... so, cut to now. see, everything above that i described is very lazily speculative, which i sort of hate for a meta because i feel a rush that desires total accuracy, but i simply can't track all the different moments where a marriage was plausible, all the different hints and signs. what i do think is that there was a serious marriage attempt early in their lives, and then a second casual conversation in a very not-casual situation. where does this leave us now?

Dan and Phil are in a very fresh era of their lives, distinctive from anything of the past. they are out, collaborating together, rebranding themselves gradually into something more fitting to their core artistic identities, and fostering a close community with their audience. Dan is making a severe sequence of commitments here, but these are worth the risk-- bringing back the gaming channel was conditional on the fact that Dan was making a choice he could back out of, but he chose to commit to the channel through committing to his own happiness. Phil is going through a lot of his own changes as he comes to terms with his medical state, as well as his appearance changes and the shifts in confidence it brings. Phil embraces the seismic change that is the end of the hiatus, because for the first time in a while, it's not a bittersweet change or a change laced in uncertainty-- it's a good change.

and, really, it's been fifteen years since they first met, five years since they first came out. what better time is there for something like this?

honestly, i don't know if it's happened yet. i personally don't envision Dan and Phil to approach marriages all that typically; they are chained together, as Dan put it once, in really every facet of their life already. i do believe that both of them like the concept of a wedding but also hate every mini-concept that goes into a wedding, so i really can't imagine that happening.

but i think maybe all these wedding references are emerging for a couple of reasons: namely, to prime us for the idea of them possibly being married (or to tease us for our theorizing, who knows with them), and also subconsciously to prepare themselves. because a proposal isn't just going to be a casual conversation anymore-- it might not be fancy, the way they first did their proposal, in a traditional speech & kneel format somewhere in a beautiful city. but it's not like their second one, halfway through the first okay day in a string of stressful ones, sitting in an apartment packing up their things.

maybe this is Phil bringing up marriage terms in videos, smiling when his family refers to Dan as part of the Lester family (even though really, Phil, they've been doing that for years), thinking about the aesthetics of WAD and wondering if a black-and-orange ring is a little too much. maybe this is Dan calling Phil pet names more often, daydreaming about himself in a dress but realizing he wants to see Phil in a veil more, fully accepting that he does not want to take Phil for granted after spending so long hiding his love for him and several years trapped by his fear of himself.

maybe we are hearing so many wedding references because the two of them are warming back up to the idea. or maybe they're teasing us about it because somewhere both of them already know that they could do this.

me personally, i think Phil proposes first in a ring that is very deliberately artsy and aesthetic. i think some mishap happens during it and it's kind of a disaster but Dan laughs so hard he starts crying and he says yes before Phil can say anything because he knows Phil didn't script anything, that if Dan said no Phil would get up and kiss him anyway. i think Dan follows suit later, but he's really meticulous about getting Phil something comfortable to wear that still looks nice and complements his ring. it's less of a secret, now, so he asks the Lesters and grumbles about Phil beating him to it, but his proposal goes a lot more smoothly and still takes Phil off guard, doing that small smile you see whenever he looks at Dan.

and i think Dan really wants a fancy dress i mean come on. Phil gets the veil though. or maybe they just sign the papers or procrastinate them and no wedding ever happens. honestly, maybe i'm totally off here-- maybe they're never going to get married, just buy a house several years down the line in the isle of man and never really bother with the legal stuff.

but they're not taking things for granted, anymore. not them, and not their audience. they know they can make references to marriage and we'll go batshit, but they know we don't care. they know we want them happy. and they know that no matter what they do, nurses and bartenders are still going to think Dan is Phil's son and there's a joke i really want to make here but i'm not going to right now.

... yeah. i meant to take a shower about an hour ago! i've been sitting down for a long while and don't really remember what i've said ^_^ i hope you like it though!

#astra.meta #dan and phil #phan #i'm so sorry for how messy this is but i need to go shower and hang out with my sister :( i can clarify anything later!!

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bardoftheshire · 1 year ago

Text

Better Off As Lovers

Patrick Stump x Reader

This was also posted on Ao3 if you prefer that platform, this whole text is the link. :)

Summary; You and Patrick have been friends since middle school and have been going to tours with him and the band to watch their shows. At one of the shows, Patrick decides to play one unreleased song he just so happened to write for you to confess his feelings. (I dunno this is kinda the summary but I'm also dumb as shit and can't make a correct summary).

Notes; I felt like writing a little something for him as I've been wanting to for a while now, and here it is! And honestly, guys, if I end up wring more Patrick x Reader fics they're all most likely to be song fics or fics based off of some of the music videos, sorry but man I'm a sucker for song fics.

Warnings; Some cursing and some bickering back and forth between Pete and Y/n over stupid stuff. Really really cheesy and unrealistic ig. Also Y/n is kind of really fucking stupid as well, but for the sake of the fic.

Word Count: 4,068

<Playing- Bang The Doldrums by Fall Out Boy>

1:32 ────ㅇ────── 3:31

God, why are these tour bus seats so uncomfortable? You'd figure that because they were meant for people to sleep in, they would be more comfortable.

You get up and stretch, heading to the cupboard where the band keeps all of the snacks to look for your hidden stash in the back.

"Where the hell are they?" You say, muttering to yourself.

You continue to scrounge through the cabinet to try and find your two twin packs of Twinkies, only to give up and walk to where the boys were hanging out.

"Hey, did any of you guys eat my Twinkies?" You call out as you walk to where you can hear the boys talking; a curtain was the only thing acting as a door for the area.

Just as you open the curtain to the "room" (aka the six loft beds that were separated by just a curtain), you see Pete and Joe munching on your beloved creme-filled cakes.

"Are you kidding me?" You say, your mouth agape and eyebrows raised.

"I told you guys so."

The two boys look at each other and then at you, a twinge of fear apparent on their faces, the creme filling on the corners of their mouths, and the wrappers thrown onto the floor.

"You two so totally owe me two boxes of Twinkies, I mean it! One box from each of you two! How did you find them?! I hid them!" You flail your arms about towards the boys, the guilt becoming more apparent on Joe's face.

Pete and Joe shuffle in their spots, licking their fingers and corners of their mouths to get the creme off from their messy way of eating.

"Honestly, you're kinda bad at hiding stuff; it wasn't that hard to find them," Pete says with a shrug.

Patrick kicks his shin from where he was sitting from across, earning a hiss of pain and a dirty look from Peter.

"I'm gonna eat all of your fucking Blow-Pops." You say, leaving the sleeping area and heading back to the snack cupboard. You can hear Pete's shouts, telling you not to touch them.

Opening the cupboard, you immediately spot a party-size pack of Blow-Pops with a large piece of duct tape stuck on to the bag, big bold letters drawn with a black Sharpie reading 'PETE'S LOLLIPOPS!!! DON'T TOUCH!!!'

Pete really liked those things, and he would individually count them to keep track of how many he had, so that way, if someone decided to take one or two of them, he would know. Which is kind of insane of him now that you think about it. Actually, scratch that, Pete was insane—PERIOD!

You grab the bag and grab three handfuls of lollipops, shoving them into your hoodie pockets and putting the bag back into the cupboard.

"Give them back, Y/n!" Pete says, grabbing your shoulders just enough to keep you from moving.

"Hell no! Buy me back my Twinkies and then I might just give you all of them back." You say putting one hand into your pocket to take out a Blow-Pop.

"Those Twinkies were practically begging to be eaten by someone, man; come on, those were in there for days without being touched."

You unwrap the lollipop, pulling your hand up to pop it into your mouth, Pete's mouth falling agape as you do so.

"Was that one of the apple ones..."

You nod your head, taking it out of your mouth. "And I've still got more. And as I said, I'm not giving them back until you buy me back, my Twinkies,"

"God, fine! But promise not to eat anymore until we get to a gas station! Especially not the Apple ones!"

"Will do," You pop the Blow-Pop back into your mouth as he lets go of your shoulders, looking defeated as he walks back to the room all of the others were still in.

You smile to yourself, sitting back into the seat you were originally in.

------------------------------

You and the boys get out of the bus, heading into the gas station as the drivers fuel up. You immediately head for the drink section, looking for a can of Arizona tea.

What the hell man, where are they?

You continue to look for another minute or so until you finally give up, heading to the soda section where Patrick was.

You had somewhat of a crush on Patrick. You always have to be honest.

You went to high school with Patrick, so you've known him since sophomore year. You had a lot of classes with him too and often hung out with each other both inside and outside of school, making you closer to Patrick than you were to any of the other kids and considering him your best friend.

When he first started playing with Joe and Pete and officially being in a band with them, you started going over to practices with him, getting to know the two better, and when Andy joined the band, it was the same with him.

Now that you think about it, you have no clue how liking him could have been avoided. He's sweet and smart—a little awkward at times too, but nonetheless an incredible guy.

I mean, the whole reason why you started looking into learning some music technology was so that you could be with him more often. A lot of what you started doing was to get to hang out with him more often.

"Boo!" You say, grabbing Patrick's arm gently.

"N/n, there you are," Patrick says, turning around to look at you, holding out two cans of Arizona tea to you.

"What the hell, I just spent like, two minutes looking for these; where the heck did you find them?" You chuckle, taking one of the cans.

"I'll never tell.." Patrick chuckles, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Well, thank you Patrick. I appreciate your kind gesture very much."

Andy and Joe run by you and Patrick, with Pete doing the same shortly afterwards. Some screams and laughs came with that as well. You could see the cashier trying their best to make it through all the noise, with a look on their face that could only be explained as exhaustion and frustration, clearly not wanting to be at work.

You look at Patrick and sigh, knowing that you'll have to yell at the three once again as if they were children, regardless of the fact they were all older than you and Patrick.

You walk to the snack aisle, where you can see Joe and Andy crouching down, assumingly hiding from Pete for whatever reason, and walk up behind them. Andy had a bag of skittles in his hand and a sprite in the other, while Joe carried a twin pack of Twinkies—just as you asked him for—and a bag of chips and diet coke in his arms.

"What are we hiding from?" You whisper to the two, who jump slightly and look back in response.

"Pete," Andy replies quietly.

"Well, we've gotta go; you guys will have to finish this up some other time, preferably when we aren't in a public place."

You hear footsteps from behind and stand up, turning around to see Pete walking slowly, putting a finger up to his lips as to say "don't say anything," and you shake your head and mouth, "No."

"Come on guys, go check out we need to get back on the road," you say, turning back to Andy and Joe.

Pete groans and fully stands up, Andy and Joe doing the same.

"God, you're such a grump all the time, no fun," Pete says, walking up to the cashier.

Patrick comes up from behind you, putting his hand on your back. "Is everyone ready to go?"

You blush from the contact, nodding your head in response, and walk to the register where the boys were checking out.

"No, I paid the last time. It's Andy's turn to pay now, remember?" Pete argues. The cashier looked like he was about to snap; if it was a cartoon, steam would probably be coming out of his ears right now.

"I'll pay, fine dude, just chill out," Andy says, pulling out his wallet and handing the cashier his credit card.

The cashier puts their items into a plastic bag, and Andy grabs it and leaves with the other two.

You and Patrick walk to the register, putting your items down on the counter.

"Sorry about them by the way, they get rowdy sometimes," Patrick says, attempting to break the awkwardness by making small talk, leading it to get worse.

"Your total is $9.34," the cashier says with a deadpan look on his face.

The two of you pull out your cards and look at each other. "Let me pay for it, please; you had paid the last time, and it was almost 20 dollars," Patrick says with puppy eyes.

God, this guy always knows how to get his way with that look.

"Alright then, Pat. Thank you," You thank him, putting your card away.

Patrick pays and the cashier puts our stuff into a plastic bag, handing it to him, with him thanking the guy and telling him to have a good day.

You two walk back into the bus, and Patrick places the bag on the couch in the lounge.

"Do you want both of these in the mini fridge?" Patrick asks, taking one of the tea cans out of the bag.

"I'll have one now and save the other for later, if you can put one in though, that'd be awesome."

Patrick nods and puts one can and one of his sodas in the mini fridge plugged in next to the counter where the broken toaster sat. Now that you think about it, how long has that thing been broken? Why haven't any of us bothered to replace it?

You open one of the cans, walking into the bunk area, and sit on your bunk at the top, letting your feet dangle above the middle bunk.

"Y/n, here you go," Joe says, handing me two twin packs of Twinkies.

"Thanks, Joe. Here are your Blow-Pops back dickhead," you say, taking the wrapped cakes and taking all of the blow pops out of your pocket, handing them to Pete, who was sitting next to Joe.

"Jesus, dude, how many of my fucking Blow-Pops did you take?" Pete exclaims.

"A couple handfuls, I think," you reply, taking a drink of your tea.

-----------------------------

"Alright guys, we've got a couple more songs to play; are you ready?" Pete shouts into his mic, earning cheers from throughout the crowd.

The boys continue playing a couple more songs.

The band had been playing for an hour and a half now, playing some of their newer songs from the newest album they were working on, those of which you had the pleasure of getting to listen to before they played them for others, as well as songs from Take This To Your Grave and From Under The Cork Tree. The crowd was singing the lyrics along with the band, enjoying all of it.

"This is the last song for tonight and is another one from the album that we're currently working on; this one me and Patrick worked on together is called Bang The Doldrums!" Pete says, wiping some of the sweat off of his forehead.

Patrick adjusts the strap of his guitar slightly, walking up to the mic. Him and Joe begin to play together, with the rest of the band joining in.

You listen to it for a bit, you hadn't recognised the name but you figured that they had probably changed it.

'I wrote a goodbye note in lipstick on your arm when you passed out,'

What the hell? I haven't heard this one yet.

'I couldn't bring myself to call, except to call it quits,'

This is great; why hadn't they shown me this one? They all sound amazing.

Patrick looks at me as he sings the next verse; his face tinted a slight red, maybe from how out of breath he was getting? God, he always looked so pretty like that.

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around,'

You listen to the lyrics; why did he look at me like that in that exact verse? Maybe I'm just going crazy.

'Racing through the city, windows down, in the back of yellow-checkered cars,'

You continued to listen, enjoying the sound of the way they were playing.

Then once again, Patrick looks at you, looking less nervous and giving a slight smile as he sings the same verse.

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around,'

You can feel your face rapidly becoming warm, oh?

You think for a bit, your mouth slightly agape as you stand still. You just hope what you think is happening and what he's implying is actually what it is. No, no way. You guys have just been friends since high school; there's no way.

'..in the back of yellow-checkered cars. You're wrong, are we all wrong?

'Best friends, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers, and not the other way around, ex-friends till the end, better off as lovers!'

The song ends, and the band thanks the crowd before exiting the stage, allowing the stage technicians to begin striking and taking everything down.

You were still standing there as the crowd began to clear out. Shit, you should get to the boys. What do I do about how Patrick looked at me? What if I ask him about it and I'm totally wrong? Oh god, I'm screwed.

You begin to head to the door that lead to the backstage lounge, a security guard protecting it from letting anyone else in. The guard immediately notices you and lets you in.

You nervously walk to the same area that the boys were in, knocking on the door and hearing Joe shout, "Come in!"

You open the door and smile at the boys, who were sitting down, drinking water and using towels to dry themselves off.

Where's Pat?

"Hey guys! You sounded awesome tonight, what was with that last song though? I'd never heard it before." You greet, sitting down on one of the metal pull-out chairs across from everyone else.

"Thanks! We were going to show you Bang The Doldrums when we were first working on it, but about halfway through writing it Patrick had said something about waiting to play it at a gig instead, something about surprising you, I dunno," Pete says in response, taking a chug of his water bottle.

"Where is Patrick, by the way?" You ask, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

"I think he went to go and look for you actually; try ringing him or go and look for him; he's somewhere around here," Andy says.

"Shit really? I'll go try to find him now. Do you guys need anything that could be outside of this room?"

"Can you get us some more water? I'm still totally parched man," Pete asks, taking the towel he had on his shoulder to wipe his face off.

You nod and get up, leaving the room and closing the door to go and look for Patrick.

How on earth do you know where every place in this theater would be? This place is huge..

After searching around, you finally decide to go outside to check if he was in the tour bus by chance, only to see him sitting on a curb next to the door hidden from all of the different fans still exiting the venue.

"Pat? What're you doin' out here without a sweater on? It's freezing right now." You speak out, walking to where he was and sitting to the left of him.

"Oh, I went to look for you, and when I came out here, it was way cooler than it was in the theater, so I stayed out here to cool off a little bit," Patrick says, straightening his back and looking at you.

You nod in a way of understanding.

"How'd you like the show, though?" Patrick says, after a few seconds of silence.

"It was great! You guys never have a boring gig; everyone was loving it. What was the last song about though? I had never heard you guys play it up until just now." You say excitedly.

Patrick shifts slightly, looking away from you as his face flushes, now looking slightly embarrassed.

"I mean, it's not that it sounded bad or anything; it sounded great, but, during that chorus, you kept looking at me and, well," You say awkwardly, avoiding saying what you actually wanted to say.

It stayed silent for a couple of seconds before Patrick broke it.

"Sorry about that, I don't know if it made you weirded out or anything." Patrick says quietly.

"'Weirded out?' Pat I don't think you can really do anything to weird me out honestly. I didn't mind the contact all that much really." You lightly laugh, quietly mumbling the last part.

After saying that, you notice Patrick relax a bit, as if he were relieved and a little bit of a weight was off his shoulders.

"Y/n, can I tell you something?" Patrick says looking down at his shoes, his voice shaky.

"Yeah, of course," You reply, anxious for his words, yet somehow excited at the same time, wondering what they might be.

"This is going to sound so stupid, gosh. Um," Patrick chuckles, trying to calm his nerves as he twiddles his thumbs together, then proceeding with what he was saying. "I uh, would you hate me if I said that I really liked you, and not in a friend sort of way but um,"

You stay quiet for a few seconds, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. You're glad that it was dim in the little corner you two were sitting at so that he wouldn't see how red your face was turning.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anythi-" Patrick apologises before getting cut off by you.

"Patrick, don't be sorry," You say.

Patrick furrows his brows, creasing his forehead slightly, turning to look at you with confusion clear on his face.

"You have absolutely no idea how long I've waited for you to say something along the lines of that," You continue, grinning widely.

Patrick's face softened, a small smile appearing onto his face.

"So, does that mean that, well, you know," He says, looking at some cracks in the concrete, kicking at a pebble aside.

"Yeah, it means exactly that, Trick," You put your hand on his shoulder, trying to get his attention back.

He looks back at you, smiling, his eyes that you looked into so often seemed to shine brighter underneath the dim light that the venue had over the door in the back that barely showed any light where you two were sitting.

Patrick brings a hand to your face, caressing your cheek. You lean into his touch, doing the same as he did.

His eyes glance at your lips for a millisecond, quickly returning to your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" Patrick asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod your head and lean in as he does, fluttering your eyes closed.

Patrick closes the gap between the both of you, his breath warm. The kiss is soft and sweet, not pressed too hard against each other but still with passion. Your lips seemed to fit perfectly with his, as if they were made specifically for the both of you and just the both of you alone.

You two pull away, pressing your foreheads together, panting ever so slightly from the lack of oxygen the both of you got during the kiss.

There was a peaceful silence for a few seconds, you swear that if it weren't for the muffled music and talking of the crowd outside Patrick would've been able to hear your heart beating out of your chest.

"God, if I knew this would be the outcome I would've told you years ago," Patrick chuckles lightly.

You smile, now realizing that this wasn't a dream and that your best friend since high school really confessed what you dreamed he would for years now. That you two really kissed and it wasn't some guy that you pretended to love in hopes of letting your feelings for Patrick disappear, and you were so glad that your mind and heart didn't let that happen.

"Oh my god finally, you two are idiots," Pete says, standing on the steps that lead to the door to get backstage.

You and Patrick quickly pull away from each other, your face burning up quickly.

"What the hell do you mean 'finally'?" You say, looking at Pete in confusion.

"We've been waiting for you two idiots to finally say something to each other for years now,"

You look at Pete for a few seconds, the cogs in your head turning.

"What?"

"I mean, you two were so painfully obvious, I'm honestly surprised that you two didn't figure it out way earlier man. Oh! Wait, wait, who confessed first? Was it you Y/n?"

Joe and Andy walk out and stand next to Pete.

"Did it finally happen? Who said it first, do you know?" Joe asks.

You and Patrick stare at each other, completely baffled.

"Was it Patrick?" Andy asks.

You flush even more, looking back at the three, then quickly looking away.

"It was totally Patrick, I called it! Come on pay up you two,"

Joe and Pete groan, taking out their wallets.

"Did you guys place bets on us?" Patrick asks, getting completely ignored by them.

"How much was it again, I don't remember it's been like 5 years now," Pete asks, looking at Andy.

"I think it was either ten or twenty,"

"Can we just say it was ten? I don't have a twenty or two tens on me and I don't want to go to the ATM tomorrow morning." Joe says, rummaging through his wallet.

"Sure that works," Pete and Joe both hand Andy one ten dollar bill each.

"What the hell, was Andy the only one that thought I would confess?" Patrick says. He seemed more upset at the fact that Pete and Joe put their bets on you confessing first rather than him.

"Come inside, it's freezing out here and we still haven't gotten our waters yet," Pete says, holding the door open for Andy and Joe.

You get up and gesture for Patrick to do the same, walking to the doorway.

"I fucking hate you and I hope you know that," You whisper to Pete jokingly, proceeding inside with Patrick and Pete behind you.

"Love you too N/n.." Pete says sarcastically, walking to the table where a load of plastic water bottles were, grabbing three of them.

"I hate him," You say, looking at Pete walk away and disappear into the room the three were in before.

"Me too sometimes but honestly if it weren't for him I probably would have never said anything," Patrick looks at you.

"What do you mean?"

"He's the one that organized the whole plan of playing Bang The Doldrums and not showing it to you until earlier during the show," Patrick answers, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Huh, he told me you said something about not showing me until now. You know, maybe I don't hate him as much anymore now."

Patrick laughs, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to the table, grabbing two bottles for himself and you.

You smile to yourself, looking at your entangled hands then at him as he walked you to the room the boys were in.

You couldn't have been happier in all the years of your life up until now, and you wouldn't change or trade it for anything in the world. You were happy that you finally got to be like this with Patrick, the boy that was always so nice to everyone no matter what, the boy that knew exactly what to say if anyone was ever down, the boy that never left you no matter how difficult or bad it got.

This was the boy that you fell in love with since the moment you saw him, and he loved you back.

3:13 ─────────ㅇ─ 3:31

This took me forever to finish, and thank gods that I hyper fixated on FOB again (more than many times throughout the making of this fic,) because if not it wouldn't have ever gotten finished. I think I might end up writing more fics for Patrick, let me know if you would like for that to happen, send in some requests if you would like as well! Thank you for reading this seriously, regardless if your new or if you've been a follower since I started posting my fics on here, I appreciate you all for continuing to read my stuff because it makes me truly feel like I'm getting better and that people enjoy my stuff.

#patrick stump #patrick stumph #patrick stump x reader #patrick stump imagines #fob x reader #fall out boy #fall out boy x reader #fob #infinity on high #post hiatus fob #song fic #Y/n is kinda stupid #one of those oblivious towards one another types of fics i dunno man im a sucker for that shit #kinda cheesy but sweet ig #if you were looking for something more realistic then you wont ever get that with band fic i dont know what you expected man #pete wentz #joe trohman #andy hurley

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aeyunaa · 2 years ago

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hii how r uu?? Can you make a bff!jaemin smut please? Its where jaemin decided to invite innocent!fem reader to watch hentai with him then things started to go very spicy and intimate🫣 tyy !

Okay so you asked and you shall receive I mixed both your and @andyprkmyluv requests hope you guys don’t mind 😭!

Eye Candy 🍬 pt.2

Pairing: Jaemin x jisung x fem!reader

Word count- 8K

Smut Tw

Overstimulation, cock warming, creampie, somnophilla, drug use, y/n is a total slut!

Wrap it up irl, it’s better to be safe then sorry! 😭🙏🏻

——————

It's been two weeks you haven't seen Jaemin, jisung or mark because they were on tour in the united states. You call them almost every other day to make sure they were doing okay. You called them earlier and they were already boarding the plane back to Seoul.

“We should totally celebrate when we get back” Jaemin winks hinting he meant something totally different from the word “celebrate”. “You're an asshole.” He chuckled “no but seriously come visit me when we get back, I wanna show you something cool.” You cock an eyebrow “mm…I’ll think about it.” Before he could say anything else you waved and hung up you hoped he wouldn’t take it to heart.

A few hours go by and you spend them by getting dressed. There was a knock on the front door and you ran to open it. “Mark!” You pull him into a hug and smile. “Hi y/n” he broke the hug and walked inside, he set his bags down in the living room and laid on the couch. You shut the door and walk into the living room “I'm going to my friend Sara’s house.” Mark looked up at you “Sara?”.

You nodded, “whose Sara? Where does she live?” Mark started asking too many questions so you shut him up by saying you’ll call him every other hour he agreed but you saw that slight look of worry. Mark was always protective of you since the first time he saw you, having a little sister was one of the best things that happened to him he’d say.

——————-

You feel a hint of nervousness as you knock on the door. Jisung opened the door, his hair was messy and his eyes were half way closed. Your nose caught on to the smell of weed. You laughed at him before walking inside and into the hallway, Jaemin’s room was the very last down the hall. You quietly turn the knob and open the door. You peek in “looking for someone?” Jaemin's voice asks from behind you. You snap your head towards him and frown “you’re an asshole” he smiles and leads you into his room. His room was decorated with LED lights. He had a nice gaming setup in the corner of his room you sat on his large bed “so what's up lover boy?”. He sat down beside you and opened the laptop that was lying on the bed. You heard him typing on the keyboard after a while he stopped and looked back up at you “I was hoping you were up for a bit of binge watching…” you nodded. “Mark doesn’t know I’m over here. I told him I was going to one of my friends' houses. “Your brother would probably unalive me if he knew our situation”. You agreed with him “Mark just can’t find out…''Jaemin sent you a grin before lying down, setting the laptop a good distance away from his face. He pats the space in front of him signaling you to lie down. You set your purse down on the side of the bed before laying down in front of Jaemin, your back touching his chest.

He pressed play on the video and wrapped an arm around your waist. The both of you were awkwardly quiet as the massive globs of white, splatter and ooze over an animated face, the girl goes cross eyed with pleasure. You feel Jaemin’s arm grow even tighter around your waist, pulling your ass till it is resting against his clothed dick. “Jaemin…” you turn towards him and wrap your arms around his neck pulling him into a passionate kiss that soon turns completely lustful. A loud moan left your lips as he snuck a hand into your shorts. His hands played with your sensitive bud, His free hand lifted enough to work his belt open and the sound of the zipper broke through the heat that had risen to your ears.

Kissing at your jaw and ear, Jaemin nipped at the lobe, shoving your shorts to the side, rubbing his fat cock against the heat of your core. He used the arch of his hips to slide inside of you, groaning into your ear. His hips remained still until he couldn’t take it any longer and, gritting his teeth, he would begin a hard, steady pace. Slamming into you each time, he’d savor every sound you made.

Your moans were hot and heavy, your hands found their way to Jaemin’s shoulders, you held on for dear life, accepting all he gave you, “Oh, Jaemin!” You whimpered, and he turned his head to kiss at your jaw, thrusting deeper and deeper. The hand that had once been on your chin snaked up and tangled itself in your hair, roughly pulling your head back, causing you to cry out as the pain mingled with intense pleasure.

Your lips were bruised and the makeup you spent hours on was all over the pillows and bedsheets. “Fuck Y/n! cum for me.” He demanded, roughly biting at your neck, his hand gripped onto your hair tighter as he began to slam his hips into you harder, the bed shaking with the strength behind his thrusts. You moaned wildly and knew you wouldn’t last long, your orgasm hit, you convulsed.

The hard clamp of your walls around his large cock made him hiss out a deep groan, his hips continued thrusting forward allowing your walls to milk him, “Fuuuuuck…” He breathed, “…. Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” His muscles contract and send heat spurting against your core, painting your swollen flesh. But Jaemin wasn’t done with you… “Are you my good girl Y/n?” You nodd desperately. “Then you wouldn’t bother helping jisung out again, right? He didn’t get to witness how amazing your pussy felt last time and he was pretty bummed. Jaemin picks up his phone and texts someone most likely jisung. After about five minutes he walks in and shuts the door “you don’t know how long I was waiting for this.” He says walking over to the bed while trying to unbutton the tight jeans he had on. Once he got them off he pulled both his pants and boxers off, throwing them onto the floor you sat up and he pulled you into a hot kiss Jaemin laid against the headboard of his bed and admired the scene playing out in front of him. Jisung crawled onto the bed and laid down beside Jaemin “can you ride me, love?” You nodded tirelessly before crawling over to where jisung was laying and positioning yourself over his pretty dick. He placed both hands on your hips as you slowly sank onto his cock. You continue to move your hips— jisung thrusts up as he feels you bouncing in his hold. Jaemin leans up and rests his chin against your shoulder “y/n look at how desperate sunggie is to fill you up, don’t you wanna help him” you nod vigorously as you pick up your speed bouncing up and down the males cock Jisung’s nails dig into your waist.

Jaemin was still behind you whispering in your ear about how much jisung wanted to be milked dry. Jisung’s whimpers grow louder as you ruthlessly slam yourself down on him “I-I’m going to cum!~” Jisung sounded like a total brat right now it turned you on in a way you couldn’t explain. You push yourself down on him one last time before he completely breaks. He came hard in you, his large load filled you up so nicely. You fell onto his chest and caught your breath before pulling yourself off of his limp cock and falling into the silk sheets Jaemin pulls you into a back hug and jisung lays in front of you. It wasn’t long before all three of y’all passed out.

You muttered, the sheets slipped away leaving your body completely exposed. Slowly, need and desire began to smolder under your skin. You arched your back, pushing your hips forward in search of more sensation. You groaned at the soft, slow, relentless touch continued. You made a slight whining noise “J-jaemin”. “Shhh this will be quick I promise.” You feel him position his cock in between your folds. he quickly thrusts forward, nearly causing you to bump into the sleeping boy next to you. Jaemin thrusts are slow and lazy he just needed a bit of relief. He feels his climax approaching already, he holds you close as he spills into you. You can feel a mix of his and probably Jisung’s leak out from your overfilled cunt. Jaemin doesn’t pull out. He kisses your neck and pulls the sheets back over the two of you.

You wake up in the morning when you hear sudden arguing. One of the voices was definitely Mark, your heart sank when the door flew open. “What. The. Fuck.” Mark's jaw dropped at the sight of his sister in bed with both of his best friends was truly traumatizing. Jaemin’s eyes opened and locked with his “Mark?”

“Dude. What the hell?”

#kpop smut #nct smut #smut #smut smut smut #jaemin smut #jaemin nct #jaemin #jaemin oneshot #Jaemin nct smut #jisung smut #jisung nct #nct x reader #nct #nct fanfic #nct mark #nct jisung

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elliesglock · 7 days ago

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My timeline/thoughts. I’m sorry it’s so long! I read yours and some other peoples, and just started writing down my thoughts

2016 -2018. had girl crushes on each other, like they were enamored and obsessed with each other and felt the need to hang out/see each other all the time. Basically, that first girl that you crush on and may not understand what you’re feeling but you just want to be around them all the time and have their attention. I got this from all the videos of them during USA basketball and some other tournaments. I believe lines were crossed from the beginning… but I don’t necessarily think they admitted they were more than friends.

2018-2020. continued to be fwb. Personally, I don’t think they were exclusive because they were so young and long distance. In highschool, a lot of people are experimenting and dating around, which I think they were doing. Now, I do think they cared for each other and were starting to develop romantic feelings for each other, especially in 2019 when they were traveling to see each other all the time. Personally, I don’t think they were dating yet tho because that 2019 overtime video was not giving dating vibes but best friend vibes, with the potential to be more. There wasn’t many longing looks in that video like you see from Paige in the quarantine videos and that slam interview.

2020. they started to recognize their feelings for each other. During 2020, you could see from their online interactions this tension and push and pull. You see them flirting with other people, while at the same time leaving more flirty/loving comments on each other’s posts. It was that jealous like, highschool pettiness, that comes from being uncertain where you stand with someone (we’ve all probs been there). In the paiges Hopkins videos, Azzi’s presence was always around… like the photo college of them next to her bed. She was also on her senior photo board and shirt… it’s clear that Azzi means a lot to Paige. During quarantine, Paige looked at Azzi lovingly and almost nervously (like in that 20 question video)… which makes me think that she caught feelings. There was no “just friends” in that look… same with Azzi’s comments on Paige’s socials. Now, I don’t think they admitted that they liked each other as more than friends just because there was still this push and pull vibe to them. It’s like that in between stage when you and your fwb are starting to become more and nobody wants to make that first move/start that convo.

The reason, I lean more towards fwb (not exclusive) vs dating in highschool is because of how complicated your first relationship with a girl can be and I do think they were each others first. Like one of my friends was doing stuff with other girls without labeling it, partially because she wasn’t ready to admit that she liked girls yet… and so she was publically dating guys. Another friend was kissing her girl friends but thought it didn’t count because she was drunk at the time and said she was doing it for fun. I had a close friend, and we were practically dating in highschool but didn’t admit it until years later after we stopped being friends and started being friends again. I think females friendships can be more physical and emotional, so when you’re figuring stuff out, it can be hard…. which I think they were doing with each other in highschool.

2021. In the same place as 2020. The slam interview made me think they had feelings but had not established what they were to each other yet. For Paige, it was like “i cannot take my eyes off of you.” For Azzi, it was like “looking you in the eye makes me nervous and I start giggling and have to look away.” This energy (especially from Azzi) was not as apparent in their highschool videos… that nervous more frantic energy… like they didn’t know how to communicate their feelings to each other, which is why I think things got messy.

2022. Near the end of Azzi’s freshmen’s year, I think that they admitted that they liked each other as more than friends, and stopped seeing other people. This was clear from their TikTok comments, reposts, and #…. like she’s mine and I want everyone to know without explicitly telling you. It’s almost like this “finally we are together and everyone needs to stay away.”

2022- 2024 exclusive and dating. They weren’t really on social and posting each other as much in 2023. Then the whole ice live! And the UConn lives made it known that something more was going on (probs dating)… also they spent the whole summer together. The way they acted was more relationship like.

2024-2025. Officially together. Just all the evidence we got.

i can agree with the bulk of this. i can see them loosely kinda together not really any labels or anything in high school. it was long distance and they were basketball players traveling everywhere so ive never thought it was a big committed relationship. i did change my thoughts on them being exclusive in high school just because i mean they are young and high schoolers so you're gonna have a roster sorry 😭 i think they've always had feelings for each other but didn't start falling in love until 2020 when p came to stay with azzi. 2022 is a weird year, i think they were getting together and on the precipice of a committed relationship (stopped talking to other people, solely reposting stuff about being in a relationship, comments flirting with each other) but the way they were acting sometimes in 2022 gives they were really trying to figure it out and wanted to be in a relationship (super intense feelings) and it causes them to riff and argue a bit. but they didn't see other people. i think paige's injury brought them closer, especially for p, and it really turned into more than just stupid petty high school love, but adult mature love. but yes locked now so they made it out the trenches

#gabi's anons 💜

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yeehawpim · 1 year ago

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HI UM i really admire you and your art and i was wondering --

so i really love the way you format your comics, its really straight-forward and lets the reader process every word with ease (which i think adds to the impact of the writing), and that one rue comic with the split colors for the parentheses... how do you do it without making it look so messy?? to bring up another example, the hide-and-seek comic- i love how subtle and genius the call back to hiding behind the door was, it blew my mind... i take a lot of inspiration from the way you format and lay out your comics but for some reason i cant wrap my head around how you do so much with so little (in reality this might just be the result of me wanting to add so many little details for others to find , while being conflicted on keeping it simple, and,,, AGH...) for context : im trying to make a comic about isolation, but i keep filling up the page because i want to add things - when really i know i should be keeping it simple... but other than removing unnecessary details, i want to know what else you do to make your comics so clean and simple yet it rips out the emotions from your heart and has you stare at it as it beats. like... i want that type of impact!! i want to affect others on such an intense level!! i want to induce emotions!!! but how?

(sorry this was long, HAHAHA i just want to drive my point home- again with the 'wanting to add a lot of stuff to prove a point' thing but i digress)

ok first of all that is a huge compliment and it means v much to me, thank you 😭🙏❤️❤️

tbh for me the answer of keeping things uncluttered is paying attention to spacing and eye direction. Spacing depends on timing, if you want an action to happen slowly for instance you can make the space between panels longer, or take more panels for someone to complete an action. There's tricks for directing your eye, if you ever read anyth about focal points (eg biggest contrast, triangular shapes pointing towards what's important), but really with comics I keep in mind you're reading left to right and top to bottom.

The ruehob comic is actually simpler than you think 😅 I already knew which text had to be on the left and right with august's text post. And after that the "lanes" were so narrow there weren't a lot of complicated things I could do, just make sure you still read left to right and saunter vaguely downwards.

when you talk about putting little details, that doesn't necessarily have to distract people. Like I honestly applaud you having the drive to do detailing. You just have to make sure your compositions allow for it. Like if you think about ghibli backgrounds, they're elaborate and beautiful af.

For smth about isolation, my first thought was that you can draw a person in a setting alone among a bunch of objects, for instance. If you keep the person small but surround them with a bunch of detailed objects, it could feel very lonely. Just make sure the person still stands out b/c they're what's important, so for example the background stuff is a less saturated colour, or the person is the least detailed thing on the page. I think that's the main thing, you just have to make sure the things important to what you're saying stand out. Clarity is rlly half the battle when I'm laying things out haha

In school our teacher called this "killing your babies" because it sucks when you work hard on a cool drawing and it just doesn't work out😂This also still happens to me, it's actually partly why I keep things simple so I can work fast and throw out less

Here is a timestamp from supereyepatchwolf's video about Chainsaw Man, which has some of the coolest fuckin layouts

He's got other stuff that talks about manga and how eye direction can work and what cool stuff has been done. Off the top of my head his vid about one piece and his vid about gantz have helped me understand how to cause Emotions. Also I think he has one about Junji Ito that specifically talks about how details can make you scared, if you're into that 😂

hope this helps!

#q&a

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catharsis-in-darkness · 1 year ago

Text

Family Affairs: Chapter One

Authors Note: This definitely took longer than expected, so i’m sorry for the wait!

Pairing: Vinny Mauro x Reader

CW: Fluff, Mentions of children, Implied smut

Word count: 1,053

Tags: @tearfallpixie @jilliemiw86 @vinyardmauro

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon for me and Vin. He was streaming and playing WoW, while I was sitting on the couch next to him reading a book. He would occasionally look over at me, making sure I was okay as he had been streaming for nearly 4 hours. I would always give him a nod back before continuing on with my book. Eventually I drifted off to sleep, waking up to Vin picking me up off the couch.

“C’mon Princess, let’s get you to bed.” He carried me bridal style into our bedroom and set me softly on our bed. I reached my arms out towards him, attempting to get him to join me. I grumbled when my hands were met with air.

“Let me change first, love.” I threw my head back with a groan, finally prying my eyes open to look at him. We made eye contact as he was pulling his shirt off. I wiggled my eyebrows at him. He laughed softly at my antics before laying down next to me. Lifting his arm so I could lay on his chest.

“I love you Y/N.” He murmured into my hair. I softly kissed his chest. “I love you more Vincenzo.” I whispered into his skin.

Vinny and I met at a gaming convention 3 years ago. It was the best thing to ever happen to me.

*flashback*

“Oh my god! Y/N we have to go over to the WoW tent!!” My best friend Logan, grabbed my hand pulling me along. I wasn’t paying attention to where we were going. Logan loved video games, I on the other sucked at them. I only played for fun, on occasion.

“Oh shit!” Was all I heard before my body crashed into another, causing my coffee to spill all over me. I let out a gasp looking down at my now soaked clothes.

“I am so so sorry! Let me help you.” A rushed voice met my ears as I looked up to see a head of messy curls scrambling to grab napkins from a nearby table. He grabbed as many as he could from the dispenser making his way back to me. The unknown man started wiping at my jeans hurriedly.

“Don’t even worry about it, they’re old jeans anyways. It’s probably time I get rid of them.” I tried to lighten the mood, but the panic was set on his face. I softly grabbed his hands, attempting to grab a napkin from him. “Fuck dude, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” He apologized yet again.

“I promise it’s okay.” I smiled at him. He finally looked me in the eye. The realization of how attractive this man was hit me. He had a curly bob, with red money pieces. He looked flustered, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“Let me make it up to you, please.” My brow raised at that. He obviously feels bad and it was an accident.

“No, it’s okay I promise you uh…” I dragged on.

“Vinny, my name is Vinny.” He finished for me.

He ended up buying me a new coffee, and ever since then we’ve been inseparable.

*present*

“You know I always think of what would’ve happened if you never ran into me that day.” I gasped, lightly smacking his chest. “You ran into me!” The accusation leaving my mouth hurriedly. He grabbed my hand that smacked him and intertwined our fingers.

“I know mama, I’m just messing with you.” He chuckled, his thumbs soothing running over my knuckles.

“Go to bed, idiot.”

“As long as I’m YOUR idiot.”

I woke up before Vin and got up to make us breakfast. I giggled at his groans of protest before slipping on the shirt he discarded of his body last night. Today the boys were leaving for a 3 month long tour. To say I was sad, was an understatement.

Getting used to Vinny being gone for long periods of time has been a struggle. Even after 3 years, my heart still pangs at the thought of him leaving. I was pulled from my thoughts as warm arms wrapped around my waist.

“Good morning, Princess.” Vin murmured into my skin, as he placed kisses along my shoulder. “Good morning, Love. Did you sleep okay?” I basked in the warmth of his body as I whisked some eggs in a bowl.

“I slept like a baby, I always do when you’re next to me.” I rolled my eyes at the corny comment before I turned to face him. Nervousness started bubbling in my stomach as I looked into his eyes.

“So uh- When are we gonna make some?” I questioned shyly.

“When are we gonna make what?” He asked, moving around me to start cooking the scrambled eggs. He grabbed a pack of sausage out of the fridge and threw them in a pan, all while I watched him silently. He noticed my silence quickly turning to look at me.

“Babies. When are we gonna make some mini Vincenzo’s and Y/N’s?” His head tilted at my question, almost looking like a confused puppy. His brows furrowed and a look of surprise washed over his facial features.

“You- You want to have kids??” His tone was uneven. Fuck this was a mistake wasn’t it? I should’ve known better with touring that he wouldn’t want to settle down and have kids. We’re not even married yet, for fucks sake.

“You’re right, it was a dumb question.” I awkwardly turned around hiding the embarrassment on my face.

“Look at me, Princess. Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready. It wasn’t a dumb question. I’d love to have children with you. I don’t call you Mama, just for fun.” He grabbed me softly, forcing me to look into his eyes. I heard the slight sarcasm towards the end of his sentence.

“You actually wanna have kids, Vin?” My eyes started watering. Of course, he does. We had that conversation very early on in our relationship. Why was I doubting him before? God my brain is so stupid sometimes.

“Of course, my love. In fact, we can start right now.” His brows wiggled in anticipation. After the stove was turned off, our breakfast was long forgotten about as we raced into the bedroom.

Part 2

#miw fanfic #motionless in white #fanfiction #motionless in white fanfic #vinny mauro fanfic #vinny mauro #vinny mauro x reader

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elviola · 2 years ago

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When the clock rewinds, would you choose me?

Jake Sully x Reader

TIME: Set after the Avatar (2009) film.

PLOT: Formerly Intern from RDA, now a specialist in the reopened avatar program of Dr. Grace Augustine, you see the man–turned Na'vi, that was once almost yours.

NOTE: NOT PROOFREAD!!! i just wanted to write what i wanted to read so sorry in advance !!TT

part 2!!!

PRESENT:

YOU ALMOST FEEL DEAD, the cup of coffee in your hand wasn't halfway drunk and you want to vomit on your work papers. Stacks of written reports surround you and the illuminating lights do not help with your drumming migraine in your head. Ever since you've arrived in Pandora, messy memories are what keeps you away from being sane. You've never expected to come back, after the war and Colonel Quaritch destroying the beautiful home of the Na'vi, you were certain that your body will be decaying on the earth that was once loved for. So when an envelope slipped through your broken door at your depressing apartment. You took the opportunity. "Anywhere but on Earth." you thought out of desperation, forgetting someone particular on the planet.

Awoken by a staff member from cryosleep, you're nearing Pandora's atmosphere. You remember the first time you ever did, amazed by even the little things you can see from the ship. You were even more amazed when you step foot on the ground, at the compounds when you noticed arrows at a certain dump truck's wheel. You looked around and saw many trucks, coming back with dirt, and pieces of floral. At that moment, you were innocent. Only wanting the good money the job application stated but little did you know, you would create history.

As soon as you step down, you went straight for the building. Wanting—needing to see your avatar form again, since you left years ago. Memories and adventures were done in that Avatar, an almost new life lived. Dr. Grace Augustine was a truly astounding scientist. She was an inspiration to all and you. You go inside the lab and spot Max. "Long time no see!!" You yell and Max jumps out of surprise, "_____!! It's been years! Didn't think you would come back!" He replies as you pull him in a hug. "I know, I just had to with the opportunity given to me. Where's Norm?" He points to the door where the old Avatars used to rest at. You look at him anxiously, striding to the door as you noticed new equipment in the lab. Yet dust remained on the untouched ones, where Grace used for research. As you push the door open, Norm is found sitting infront of the tubes. Taking a closer look, he was staring at your Avatar with an unrecognizable expression. "Hi Norm," You whisper, seeming like a private moment you disrupted. His shoulders shake upwards and whips his head towards you. Responding with a smile, he stands up to hug you. "_______, hi. How are you? I thought you wouldn't come," You're the first one to pull back, "Were you the one to suggest me? I recall last time, you were the last one to even mention my name at missions." Norm rolls his eyes, "That was 5 years ago."

PAST:

ONE:

You were late to the meeting Colonel Quaritch had set, other soldiers giving you the side eye. You were assigned to his team after splitting the interns to two groups. Though you begged Parker Selfridge to put you to Dr. Grace's instead, you ended up in the harsh skinned group. Quaritch kept explaining the tasks until he gazed out at the back, some guy in a wheelchair. The other soldiers gave him an even meaner stare, you rounded the table and sat beside him. "Hey. Pretty cool planet, huh?" He looks to me and chuckles, "It's a weird one too. You've seen the arrows?" You nod in response, "Where'd you think they've come from, aliens?" Before he could reply, Quaritch dismisses the meeting. The man you were talking to gone. And you didn't even get his name.

"Hey, ______! How's it going with the camera for the video logs?" a husky voice said behind you, as you position the said camera to a good angle. Jake rolls up beside, checking out your work. "It's good, you probably hit it out of exhaustion one time." you reply as his face becomes a satirical hurt one. "What? I care for the technology here, as I know they are veeeery expensive. You're lying," Both of you bicker for a while about it back and forth 'til you were called out of the room. You exit with a smile on your face.

You sit on a seat at the cafeteria, it was break time, and all you could think was to eat. Put anything in your mouth if you will. You pick up your spoon when arguments come crashing into the entrance, other employees turning their heads to see. It was Grace and Jake. Obviously. Something about Na'vi language. Something that Jake doesn't know about. Grace dismisses him, says he should move on about it instead. His face falls at the reply but lightens up when he sees you. "Damn marine, you keep messing up huh?" you ask while scooping yogurt from your tray, "Well it's not my fault you're not helping me." he replies as he snatches the cup from your hands. You look at him at shock, "Give it back or I'll steal your wheelchair!"

You wouldn't want to admit Jake has been good company, the other soldiers disagreeing with your say. He's been the least grumpiest in the squad brought on Pandora, so you're at least grateful for that. Dr. Grace showed him the Avatar, him taking his twin's place. You were amazed, how they made it possible, you didn't know but you also didn't know that you had one too. "______, yours is on the far right. You saw how to link with it so I'll leave you to it," Jake nudges your hand, "Guess I won't be alone then."

You try not to blush at his words.

TWO:

It was Jake's first day to try out his avatar, and yours. You were worried since he didn't have enough knowledge about it, nor he knew what was outside of the compound. Grace scolding him multiple times and Norm shaking his head in disbelief out of Jake's silly nature. You were laughing everytime you see the same scene. As he entered the pod, you quickly went to yours as well. Laying down and adjusting your hair to not get it stuck when it closed, Grace approached you, "Everything good?" You answered with a thumbs up as the door shut, all you remember was opening your eyes due to the bright light. Pointed ears roaming around to where sound resonated and tail swishing out of attention. You sit up to see Jake smiling to you, very blue, as he stands up and runs off.

After Jake practiced a few times to navigate in his avatar, (because of him running out of the lab out of nowhere) you, Grace, and Norm went out on a mission. Getting samples for the research the scientists need and you helping them along the way. Jake as a form of protection, Grace argued they didn't need him but persuading them was easy for you.

"I miss this on Earth." You speak out as you follow the science duo with Jake, he looks over to you. Sees your eyes shining with awe as you ogle around the plants, the trees, and to him. "Ours was beautiful too." His hand finding yours to hold, butterflies filling your stomach.

THE CRISIS:

He's lost. Jake is lost and you're with the duo, panting and sweating throughout your body. A Thanator was running after us, Jake getting its attention before. You're worried and you're shaking to find him. Especially that he knows nothing about the forest, so you look back at Grace and Norm, and slowly walk away to find him. A hand hooks your wrist and you knew they wouldn't let you. "He might get himself hurt or even worse—killed? Who cares if it's dark when we got someone out in the wild?" You reason, "He'll survive one night, ______. Trust me." Norm replies as you stand under the big green leaves and the starry bright background. Your shadow casting over with the little light providing to it, the stars opposite to the feeling of dread. Sighing, you decide to trust their word. Walking back to the helicopter.

THE RESOLUTION:

Jake says he would stay with the Omatikaya clan. He explains he had met the olo'eyktan's daughter. Grace approves, Norm is bitter, and you're happy that he's safe. A chance for him to learn about the Na'vi. Everytime he discharges from the pod, he tells you all about the village and you can't help but smile big at his stories. About Tsu'tey and soon-to-be mate, Neytiri. How the Omatikaya people treat him and how the forest is beautiful at a deeper look.

(YOUR) THE PROBLEM:

You don't see much of him anymore. You catch glimpses of him inside, recording a videolog after his journey in the forest. He's getting thinner, he doesn't meet with you at the cafeteria anymore. Feeling down when you wait minutes that turn hours for him to eat beside you, joking about your platter, and still, he doesn't arrive. Leaving you with an empty stomach. He rarely talks to you, and trying you do. When he's out of the pod, you ask him questions but all he does is quickly wheel to the camera to record a video log. Jake greets you yet his expression of a 'happy to see you' is nowhere to be found as he did before. He goes back into the pod without a single other word sent your way. Your heart slowly wearing out off your sleeve, you miss your talks, you miss the laughs, and you miss him.

THE CLIMAX:

The RDA is finally destrotying the Home Tree and the People of the Omatikaya clan freak out, you panic, telling them that they should leave and prepare when Jake and Neytiri come back.

They celebrated the night before, the ceremony of Jake becoming one of them. You're excited to see him, ton congratulate him about his long way of learning and accepting them. Tsu'tey arriving to see the ruinage of a forest the Humans brought and was to discuss about future plans. When Jake and Neytiri come back together, Tsu'tey eyed them suspiciously, "You mated with this woman?" Grace curses and hell breaks loose. You stare at him with shock as he reasons. Your heart finally falling out of you, the pieces shattering one by one on the ground. He doesn't see you anymore. He doesn't see you the way he sees her. So you stand behind the crowd forming, behind the great trees of Pandora, and you stay far from the man you once loved.

THE END:

Quaritch is dead, Grace is Dead, and Jake is reborn as the Na'vi.

You're on your way back to Earth.

And you can't help wanting to pick up the pieces you left on Pandora.

#jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #jake sully x you #avatar 2009 fic #avatar 2009 x reader

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diosnumber1slut · 2 years ago

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Dom DIO X Sub Fem Y/n

CONTAINS: (ddlg, spanking, degradation, humiliation, facial, sexting, mention of 18+ media being sent, if you squint very hard slight praise, yandere themes, y/n is a brat, brat-tamer DIO, yandere DIO)

First person, italic used for thoughts & texts

{Oh btw I also did a little insignificant playlist that you can listen to when you're reading it or maybe if you want to listen to it on a daily basis then go ahead!}

“Daddy I’m back~” I said as I stepped in his luxurious penthouse.

Everything was in the colours of black and crimson with some touches of gold, the night skyline was absolutely breathtaking seen from above.

I didn’t find him anywhere so I decided to go and take a look in his office and when I opened the door I saw him sitting in his black leather chair with his back facing me “Well look who’s back~” then he said to me in a particular relaxed but still imposed tone “Sit down.” so I said as I sat down “Is there something wrong daddy?” then he replied to my question, menacingly, “So… how’s your ex doing without your presence hmm…good?” A voice inside of my head told me that he knew clearly that I had sex with my ex this evening but then that voice died out and I responded with “Y-yes he’s doing good without me…” “I stuttered fuck!” then he said “Then why were you at your ex boyfriend’s house this evening?…” then my blood froze as he turned around to face me then he stood up and there I saw his towering self, eclipsing me, “You respond to my messages and calls immediately but this evening you weren’t answering so I decided to track your location down and I saw that you were at your ex’s house…” he said teasingly as he approached me then he raised my head with his hand under my chin “You’ll be punished severely for it my naughty little slut…Now go to my room and wait for me.” he said in a menacing tone “Ok daddy…” I stood up and then I went straight to his room.

I waited for him patiently feeling a sort of suspense raising inside me. “What will he do? I wonder…~” I said between me and myself then all of a sudden the door opened “You’ve got some explaining to do…” he said in an imposing tone as he came towards me. He had only his black pants and white shirt on, his amber eyes were burning with wrath and his golden locks were flowing with each of his perfectly calculated steps then all of a sudden I was bent over his lap and then the first spanking of the night strikes my ass, I mewled out his name in pain then he spoke “What did I say about fucking other boys…” I said in a weary tone “I’m sorry daddyyy!~” he said furiously as he continued to spank me “You’ve been a very bad girl…”; after half an hour of spanking he took me off of his lap and bent me over the bed and rammed his entire length inside of my pussy and still gave me more of his generous spankings as he fucked me.

His pace was brutal and sadistic truly meant to hurt, then I saw that he took my phone from my purse and decided to take a video of myself getting fucked all the way out then he said “Say hi to your ex!” He roared angrily; I just moaned loudly begging him to have mercy on me then he chuckled darkly then I heard him say “Lay even a finger on her and I’ll kill you…Got it?” then he finished recording the video and continued to fuck me.

As he released himself inside of me he took his raging shaft out and took my phone again and took a quick pic of my wet womanhood spilling with his essence then he inserted it into my mouth, I felt myself gagging onto his enormous raging member.

I felt like if I was in a photoshoot for how many pictures he was taking of my messy self sucking on his throbbing cock “Was my little slut starving for daddy’s cock?…I mean after fucking your worthless ex you must be desperate for my precious touch~” He said tauntingly and as a response I hummed in ecstasy as his cock hit the back of my throat constantly then he chuckled menacingly looking down at my drooling mess.

He decided to start fucking my ass then he took a video of it; he gave a playful spank at my ass cheek “Ah!~” I moaned then he said “Ahh…my naughty little slut serves me so well…she’s literally made for me…~” he furiously said “Her existence is only meant for pleasuring my deepest carnal desires…” he said angrily as he finished recording.

I was going in overdrive with pleasure as his cock plowed in and out of my mouth then he decided to take some pictures of me sucking his cock dry “You look so pretty while you suck my cock~” I looked up at him “Aww such a cute little thing that you are…And to think that you are only mine~” he chuckled tauntingly “Hmmm?” he hummed and he faced at my phone and then he noticed three notifications from my ex, he immediately grabbed my phone and saw some texts coming from him that read “go fuck yourselves!”-“I hate you both!”-“I will kill you both!” then he laughed darkly at the ominous threats, he then said “Yeah keep on sucking my cock…Ngh- good girl~”. He just kept on going until he felt that he was going to come then he took his cock out of my throat and came all over my face and breast “Ooooh fuck yeah my sweet little girl…~” then he picked up my phone once again took one last picture at my messy self covered in his thick cum and sent it to him and then to my ex then he said out loud what he was texting to him “She belongs to me…touch her and I’ll make sure you’ll regret the day you’ve met her.” then he picked me up by my waistline and began kissing me roughly and passionately then he broke the kiss and said to me “Swear that you’ll never see any other guy but me…” then I said “I swear daddy~” then he said “Good…” then I said “I’m feeling sleepy daddyyyyyy…~” then we went to sleep together and before I fell asleep he patted my head and said “You’re such an obedient girl…you deserve a reward.” I then replied “Really?!” He then said “Yes…Tomorrow I’ll take you out wherever you like.” then I said “Thank you so much Daddy Dio I love you!” He then said as he gave a kiss on my forehead “I love you too my dear…” and then we both went to a peaceful slumber.

#yandere dio brando #dio brando x reader #dio brando fanfic #dio brando #dio x reader #dio x you #dio x y/n #dio smut

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creepypast-stories · 7 months ago

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Toby "Ticci Toby" Rogers

Disclaimer: This is not my story, nor my art.

The long road home seemed to go on and on. I hope the road isn’t a metaphor for this story. The road continued to outstretch in front of the vehicle endlessly.

The light that shone through the branches of the tall green trees danced across the window in random patterns, every once in a while, obnoxiously shining in your eyes. “This lead to multiple car crashes.” The surrounding was full of deep green trees forming a forest around the road. Yeah, this forest is going to get torn down to make way for a strip mall. The only sound was the sound of the cars engine as it traveled down the path. It was peaceful and let off a serene feeling.

Although the ride seemed like a nice one, it lacked every form of ‘nice’ for both passengers. “They both hated each other, and were stuck together due to wacky twists of fate.” The middle-aged woman behind the steering wheel had neat short brown hair that fit her complexion quite well. She wore a green v-neck t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Diamond stud earrings decorated each of her ears which partially showed from behind her hair cut. She had deep green eyes which were brought out by her shirt, and the lighting seemed to make them more noticeable. Everything here is so green. There wasn't much significance to her appearance. She just looked like any ‘average mother’ that you’d see on TV shows and such, but one thing for sure made her differ from those ‘average mothers’ and that was the dark bags under her eyes. Have you not met mothers?

Her facial expression was gloomy and sad, although she genuinely looked like one who smiled a lot. “Of course, the reason she smiled was because she was pulling the wings off of butterflies.”

She would sniffle every once in a while, and occasionally glance back in the rear-view mirror to look back at her son in the back seat, who was hunched over partially, his arms held tight around his chest, and his head pressed against the cold window.

The boy lacked any normal appearance, anyone could blandly see “Blandly see?” Yes, I see so blandly, it’s kind of boring. that something was wrong with him. His messy brown hair went in every which way, and his pale, almost gray skin was brought out by luminescent lighting. Hey, don’t hate on him. He just sits inside and plays video games all day. Nothing wrong with that. His eyes where dark, unlike his mother’s and he wore a white t-shirt and scrub pants that had been provided to him by the hospital. Well, that was nice of the hospital. The clothes he had worn before where so shredded and blood stained, that they weren't ‘wearable’ any more. “He had been playing ‘Knife Twister’.” The right side of his face bared a few cuts along with his split eyebrow. His right arm was bandaged up all the way up to his shoulder, which had been shredded when his right side had hit the shattered glass. That must’ve been a pain the glass. Yeah, sorry.

His injuries appeared to be painful, when really he couldn't feel a thing. He never could feel a thing. “Except an urge to become the greatest interpretive dancer the world had ever seen.” That was just one of the glories about being him. IT’S SO GLORIOUS TO BE TOBY! One of the many challenges he had to face growing up, was growing up with the rare disease that caused him to be completely numb towards pain. Novacainism? Never before had he felt himself get hurt. He could have lost an arm and felt nothing. Well, he wouldn’t have felt anything from that arm, at least. That and another major disorder he had faced, was the one that deemed him many insulting nick names in the short time he attended grade school, before he was moved to home schooling was his Tourette Syndrome, which caused him to tic and twitch in ways he couldn't control. Ok, am I the only one who has that South Park episode in their head? You know, the one where Cartman pretends to have Tourettes? You know what, Cartman should be the voice of every Creepypasta character. That would be perfect. He would crack his neck uncontrollably and twitch every once in a while. The kids would tease him and call him Ticci-Toby and mock him with exaggerated twitching and laughing. And, of course, the teachers did nothing about it. It got so bad he turned to homeschooling. It was too hard for him to be in a common learning environment with seemingly every kid poking, or more like stabbing fun at him. Then why don’t you stab them?

Toby stared blankly out the window, his face was empty of any depict-able emotion, and every few minutes his shoulder, arm, or foot would twitch. “Son of a twitch!” he yelled. Every bump that the car tires hit, made him stomach turn.

Toby Rogers was the boy’s name. Mr. Rogers procreated? I guess there was more going on in the neighborhood than I thought. And the last time Toby remembered riding a car, was when it crashed. That’s got to be awkward when driving around.

That's all he thought about. “That, and why they were in a forest. Wasn’t their house the other way?” Unconsciously replaying everything he had remembered before he blacked out, over and over again. LET’S DO THE TIME WARP AGAAAAAAAAAIN!

Toby had been the lucky one, when his sister hadn't been so lucky. When the thought of his older sister came, he couldn't help but let his eyes begin to tear up. The horrible memories replayed in his mind. Her screaming that had been cut off when the front of the car was smashed in. It all went blank for a moment before Toby ope ned his eyes to see his sister’s body, her forehead pierced with glass shards, her hips and legs where crushed under the force of the steering wheel, her torso pushed in from the late inflated air bag. This was the last thing he had seen of his dear older sister. Um, can I make a joke here? Um…yeah…moving on…

The road home continued on for what seemed like forever. It took so long to get home due to his mother wanting to avoid passing the sight of the crash. Are there no other routes outside of car crash area and the wilderness?

When the surrounding gave into a familiar neighborhood, they had both been more then ready to get out of the car and step back into their own home. Ah, home sweet home. And considering this a Creepypasta with a young protagonist, it’s probably going have an abusive parent or two.

It was a older neighborhood, with quaint little houses all next to each other. The car drove in front of a little blue house, with white window panes. So they live in a neighborhood from the 50s?

They both quickly noticed the old vehicle that was parked in front of the house, and the familiar figure who stood out in the drive way. Slender Man? No, wait, that’s later in the story. Toby felt automatic anger and frustration take over him at the sight of his father. His father who wasn't there. Wait, he’s angry at the sight of his father, but his father isn’t there? I’m confused.

His mother pulled the car up into the driveway beside him before turning off the engine and preparing to step out and face her husband.

“Why is he here?” Toby said quietly as he looked back at his mother who reached to open the car door. “Because he wouldn’t leave me alone. He’s rather annoying like that. If you ever go batshit insane, you should totally kill him.”

“He’s your father Toby, he’s here because he wants to see you,” His mother responded with a monotone voice, trying to sound less shaky.

“Yet he couldn't have driven up to the hospital to see Lyra before she died,” Toby narrowed his eyes out the window. So, this is number three on the “Weird names from Creepypasta stories that start with ‘L’”. We got Liu, Lonnie, and now Lyra.

“He was drunk that night honey, he couldn't drive-” Why not call a cab or something?  “Yeah when is he not,” Toby pushed open the door before his mother and stumbled out onto the driveway where he met his father’s gaze before looking down at his feet with a stern expression. Wait, his father is Tony Stark?

His mother stepped out behind him and met her husbands eyes before walking around the car. His father opened up his arms, expecting a hug from his wife, but she walked passed him and put her arm around Toby’s shoulder and influenced him to begin walking inside. Rejected! “Connie,” her husband began to say under a raspy voice, “What no welcome home hug huh?”

“No, and no welcome home fuck either.”

She ignored her husbands obnoxious words and walked passed him with her son under her arm. Other obnoxious words he says: fasbender, egregious, rectal exam. He’s weird when he’s drunk.

“Hey, He’s 16 he can walk by himself,” his father began to follow them in. 16 AND LIFE KEEPS COMING!

“He’s 17,” Connie glared back at him before opening the door to the house and stepping inside.

“Actually, I’m 25.”

“Shut up, Toby.”

“Toby, why don’t we get you in your room to rest okay? I’ll come get you when dinner is ready-”

“No, I’m 16 I can walk by myself,” Toby said sarcastically, and glared back at his father before stumbling up the small stair case and turning into his room where he slammed the door violently. “Also, your cooking sucks!”

His little room didn't have much in it. “Just the heads of his enemies. They make good decorations.” Just a small bed, a dresser, a window, and his walls had a few framed pictures of his family, back when they where a family.  Before his father became an alcoholic, and acted violently towards the rest of his family. Before his father became Tony Stark and started rounding up unregistered superheroes. Toby remembered when he was arguing with his mother and he grabbed her by the hair and shoved her to the floor, and when Lyra had tried to break it up, he pushed her and she hit her back on the corner of the kitchen counter. Oh, ouch. Toby could never forgive him for what he did to his mother and sister. Never. Has anyone called the police on his father? Have they tried kidnapping him and sending him to AA? Toby didn't care how much his father beat him down, he couldn't feel it anyway, what he did care about was how he intentionally hurt the only two people he cared about. Shaq and Bob Marley? And when he waiting in the hospital, where his sister took her last few breaths, the only person who didn't rush there, was his dad. Well, he was drunk, and didn’t think to take a cab, or ask for anyone to drive him there, or…

Toby stood by the window and looked out onto the street. He could have sworn he saw things out of the corner of his eye, but quickly blamed it on the medication he had been put on. Side effects include hallucination, violent tendencies, minor spelling and grammar errors, and the embracing of an insulting nickname. Consult with your Operator to see if Proxicen is right for you. When dinner time had come around and his mother called up to him, Toby came down the stairs and hesitantly sat down at the table across from his father, and in between his mother and an empty chair. The real reason he didn’t want to be there is because his mother was serving broccoli.

It was quiet as his parents picked at their food, but Toby refused to eat. Instead he just watched his dad with a blank stare. “I’ll make you uncomfortable, if it’s the last thing I do!”

His mother caught onto his stare towards his father and elbowed him slightly. Toby looked over at her slightly and look down at his uneaten food, in which he didn't touch. “Instead, he stared blankly at that too.”

Toby laid in bed, he pulled his covers over his head and stared at the window. Oh, that was random. A transition might have been nice. He was tired but there was no way he would fall asleep. “Jeff the Killer could bite him.” He couldn't, there was too much to think about. He had been debating on whether or not to follow his mothers directions and forgive his father, or continue holding a grudge with his boiling hatred. “On the one hand, there’s forgiving him and moving forward. On the other, there’s holding a lifelong grudge that will consume me until I go insane or die. Yep, totally going with grudge.”

He heard his door creak open, and his mother padded into the room and sat on the bed next to him. “Honey, Clockwork won’t be the only story with incest.” She reached over and rubbed his back, which had been turned to her. “I know its hard Toby, trust me, I understand, but I promise you it will get better” she said softly.

“When is he going to leave?” Toby said with a innocent tone in his shaky voice.

“When we banish him back to the 6th Dimension. That might take a while though.”

Connie let her gaze fall down to her feet. “I don’t know honey, he's staying as far as I know,” she replied. Couldn’t you get a restraining order or something?

Toby didn't respond. He just continued to look forward at the wall, holding his damaged arm near his chest.

After a few minutes of silence, his mother sighed, before she leaned in to kiss his cheek and stood up to walk out of the room. “Good night,” she said as she closed the door.  The hours passed slowly, and Toby couldn't quit tossing and turning. I TOSS AND TURN, I CAN’T SLEEP AT NIGHT! I USED TO RUN TO YOU. NOW I RUN FROM YOU. THIS TAINTED LOVE YOU’VE GIVEN, I GAVE YOU ALL A BOY COULD GIVE YOU. Every time he let his imagination take over, he heard the screeching of tires, the screaming of his sister, and he could uncontrollably jerk in bed. Well, the jerking is from the Tourette’s, which has not really been mentioned at all since the beginning of the story. He threw off his covers, laying on his back, he pulled his pillow over his face and cried into it. He could feel his chest rise and fall as he let out each shaky breathe as he cried. He could hear his own pitiful weeping. He would have been screaming and crying if he didn't press his pillow over his face. “However, putting the pillow on his face had the unintended effect of smothering himself.”

After a few seconds he threw the pillow off his face as well and sat up, hunched over, holding his head and breathing roughly, tears streaming from his eyes. He couldn't help but cry. He tried to keep it in, but he couldn't help but whine and whimper as he sat there shaking. He inhaled before he stood up and walked around his bed to the window and peered out, taking deep breathes trying to calm down. He rubbed his eyes and looked out at the group of tall pine trees across the street. “There he saw a flash mob.”

He stopped suddenly, and his gaze slowly centered on something standing under the street light. He heard ringing in his ears and he couldn't look away. The figure stood beside the street light, about 2 feet shorter then it, long arms draped at it’s sides as it stared up at him with non-existing eyes. That is probably the dumbest description of Slender Man’s face I have ever read. The figure had no features what-so-ever. Except for, you know, the suit. No eyes, no mouth, no nose, yet it held Toby’s hypnotized stare, seemingly peering into his very being. Slender Man watches you at night, Toby. He knows what you do in the dark. He sees you masturbating. The ringing in his ears grew louder and louder each second he stared before suddenly it all went black.

The next morning Toby woke in his bed. He felt different. I thought he couldn’t feel anything. He wasn't tired at all, and when he consciously woke up, it felt like he had been lying there, awake for hours. He had no thoughts flowing through his mind. “A slight breeze went through one ear, and out the other.” He sat up slowly and stumbled over to the wall, but when he stood up he automatically felt dizzy. So he can feel nothing except for different and dizzy? He stumbled to the doorway and walked down the stairs. His parents where sitting at the table, his father was in-tuned with the small TV that sat on the counter top, and his mother reading the newspaper.

“Damn this Kenyan-Muslim-Satanic-Communist-Terrorist President. We need better presidents, like Ronald Regan! Yes sir, he was the reincarnation of Jesus, and did everything right! ‘MURICA!” Toby’s father said.

“Oh, don’t mind him, Toby. He’s just been watching FOX News.”

She quickly looked over when she felt Toby’s presence looming behind her.

“Well, good morning sleepy head, you’ve been sleeping forever,” She greeted him with hesitated smile. “Seriously, we had to get a prince to grope you while you sleep to get you to wake up.”

Toby slowly looked over at the clock and noticed that it was 12:30 p.m.

“I made you breakfast but it got cold, I was going to wake you, but I felt you needed sleep,” her expression fell from happy to worried as her son resisted responding to her. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know. I don’t feel…anything.”

Toby stumbled over and sat by his father. He felt as if he was on idle, and had no control over his actions. “Or at least that’s what he said at the trial after he killed his father.” He was seeing everything he did, but it didn’t seem to register in his brain properly. He reached out to to his fathers arm, but his hand ended up getting slapped. His father turned to him abruptly and pushed his chair over with his foot. That’s a dick thing to do.

“Don’t touch me boy!” He yelled. Ok, either he’s telling someone not to touch his kid while he speaks in a Scottish accent, or he’s telling his kid not to touch him. I personally prefer the first one, but that’s just me.

His mother stood up, “Alright knock that off! I wouldn’t say that, Toby’s father might take that too literally. That is the last thing we need!” The days went by, and things continued on as they where. That was an abrupt change. It went from, “Stop abusing the kid” to “things continued on as they where.” (By the way, “as they where”? Come on.) Connie spent most of her time cleaning up the house, and her rude husband spent most of his time ordering her around. “But all of that would change when Connie was bitten by a radioactive spider.” It was just how it used to be before the crash. So nothing changed except for the loss of a kid?

Toby never really left his room. I do the same thing. He would sit by his bed, and tremble. TREMBLE, MORTAL, BEFORE THE GREAT FOUR WALLS! KNEEL AT THE DÉCOR! His mind would wonder, but his thoughts changed too fast to be remembered. He would pace around his small room like a caged animal, or stare out the window. The unhealthy cycle continued.

Connie continued to be pushed around by her husband, being way too submissive to him So she’s not a dominatrix, I’m guessing, and Toby remained in his room.

Before he could think twice, he would begin to chew on his hands, tearing the flesh from his fingers. Compulsory cannibalism is a thing, apparently. He would gnaw his hands until they bled. When his mother walked in on him while he was doing so, she reacted horribly. “Young man, stop chewing on your hands this instant!” She rushed him downstairs and grabbed the first aid, wrapping his hands in it. She demanded that he wouldn’t leave her side from then. “And that’s how Toby became a mama’s boy.”

He isolated himself so much that he grew to hate being around others. I feel you, man. His memory grew glitchy as well. He’d start missing memory of minutes, hours, days, and so on. Apparently he has Alzheimer’s too. He would begin talking nonsense, about things completely unrelated to conversations he would have. “I need scissors! 61” He’d go off about seeing things, sharks in his sink as he washed the dishes, hearing crickets in his pillows, and seeing ghosts outside his bedroom window. That’s got to be annoying. Wait, twitching a lot, hallucinating about bugs…is Toby a meth addict? All the nonsense landed him in a counselors office. His mother grew too anxious about his mental health, she decided it would be good for him to talk to a professional about what he was feeling. Well, he can’t feel anything.

Connie walked Toby into the building, holding his hand and guiding him in. She walked him up to the front desk and began talking to the lady who sat behind it.

“Mrs. Rogers?” The lady asked.

“Yes that’s me,” Connie nodded, “We’re here to see doctor Oliver, I’m here with Toby Rogers”  “Oh, good, you have the virgin sacrifice. Right this way. Cthulu will be very pleased with you.”

“Yes, right this way,” The lady stood up and lead them down a long hallway. Toby looked at the framed artwork down the halls and tuned in to the sound of the lady’s high heels on the hard wood floor. The artwork is from Rob Liefeld, by the way. Talk about inappropriate décor.  She opened the door to a room with a table and two chairs.  “If we can get him to sit in here for a few minutes, I’ll get the doctor, “Matt Smith, your 10 o’clock is here!”" She smiled and held the door open. Toby stumbled into the room and sat down at the table. He looked over at his mother and the lady before the door slowly shut behind them. He looked around the room before he held up his tightly bandaged hands and began to bite at the bandages to unwrap his hands, but was interrupted as the door swung open and a young woman in a black and white spotted dress and light blonde hair stepped in, holding a clip board and a pen. “Crap, can’t be a cannibal in front of the hot chick,” he thought.  “Toby?” she asked with a smile.

Toby looked up at her and nodded. He didn’t mean to nod; it was just a twitch.

“Nice to meet you Toby, my name is Doctor Oliver.” she put her hand out for him to shake but hesitantly pulled away when she noticed his bandaged hands.

“Oh, “This is awkward.”" she smiled nervously before clearing her throat and sitting in the chair across the table from him.

“So I’m going to ask you a few questions, try to answer then as honestly as possible okay?” she placed her clip board down on the table. “First, are you a bad enough dude to save the president?” Toby nodded slowly and held his restrained hands in his lap.

“How old are you Toby?”

“Old enough to have a good time with you.”

“17” he responded quietly.

She wrote that down on the paper that was clipped to the clipboard.

“What is your full name?”  “Fluffy, the Destroyer of Worlds, Jr.”

“Toby Erin Rogers.”

“What is your birthday?”

“June 6, 1966.”  “April 28th”  “Who is your immediate family?”  Toby paused for a minute before answering her question, “My Mom, My Dad, and…” he stopped, “M-my sister. “Well, not my sister anymore.”"

“I heard about your sister dear… I’m really sorry,” her expression faded into a sad, pity-filled look.

Toby nodded.

“Do you remember anything from the crash Toby?”  Toby looked away from her. His mind went blank for a moment. He looked down at his lap, and in the surrounding, he heard a faint ringing sound. “His Tinnitus was acting up again.” His eyes widened and he froze in his place.

“Toby?” the counselor asked.

“Toby are you listening?”

“What?”

Toby felt a shiver go down his spine until he froze once again and slowly looked over out the little window through the door, where he saw it. A dark feature-less figure, peering in at him. “Yoooooo, Toby, wassup?” Slender Man yelled. He stared, eyes widened, the ringing growing louder and louder until suddenly the loud voice of the counselor broke his trance.

“Toby!” She yelled.

Toby jumped and fell sideways out of his chair and back up into the corner. Doctor Oliver stood up, holding her clipboard to her chest. A surprised look in her eyes. Toby met her eyes again, his breath hitching as he twitched. Oh, there’s the mention of his twitching. It took quite a while.

That night Toby laid in bed. His eyes dazed as he stared straight up at his ceiling. He could feel himself begin to doze off, when he heard the scattering of footsteps down his hallway. He sat up and looked towards the doorway, his door wide open. “His mom never closed the door when she left his room.” There was no light, everything was lit by the luminescent blue glow of the moon through his window, leaving a cold lighting. So there was light. He stood up and slowly made his way towards the doorway, when suddenly the door, which was previously wide open, slammed in his face. Slender Man, stop trolling future proxies. He gasped and fell back.

His was out of breathe I think you mean “out of breath.” I could be wrong, I mean, what do I know? when he hit the ground AND NOW I’M LYING ON THE COLD HARD GROUND! TROUBLE, TROUBLE, TROUBLE. and he began breathing heavily, his eyes wide open. He waited for a few seconds before getting back up on his feet. He reached out and grasped the cold door handle How did he know it was cold? I thought he couldn’t feel anything with his bandaged hand and creaked it open. He looked out into the dark hallway and tiptoed out of his room. The window at the end of the hallway lit up the darkness with blue moonlight as he padded his way down. He could hear footsteps rustling around him, and faint giggling let by the pitter patter of small feet, which sounded like a child had run in front of him, giggling and running around. Ugh. I hate small children. The hallway was a lot longer then he had remembered. It seemed endless… like the ride home from the hospital. You know what else seems endless? This story. He heard a door creak in front of him.

“Mom?” he called out in a shaky voice.

“Oh, I’m not your mother. I’m Satan. Nice to meet your acquaintance.”

Suddenly a door slammed behind him and he jumped and turned around. Behind him he heard a long eerie groan from behind him, that sounded to croak right in his ear. He turned around as fast as he could and was suddenly face to face with none other then his dead sister. “Yo, Toby, join me. The after life is awesome!”;; Her eyes where clouded white, her skin pale, and the right side of her jaw only dangling on by tissue and muscle, glass protruding from her forehead, and black blood leaking down her face, her blonde hair pulled up back in a pony tail as it always was, wearing her grey t-shirt and athlete shorts which where dirty and spotted with blood. Wait, is she…a zombie goast? Oh god, it’s “Half-Life: Full Life Consequences” all over again! Her legs were bent in ways they shouldn’t be. “At 90 degree angles.” She stood, emitting a long croaking noise, only an inch away from Toby’s face. Toby yelped and fell back.

“AW!” That was a weird thing to shout. he started to crawl backwards away from her, not able to break the eye contact he held with her, blank, dead eyes. He dragged himself backwards until he backed up into something. “That something was his father.” He stopped for a second. Everything was dead silent except for his heavy breathing and crying. He slowly looked up to meet the blank face of a tall dark figure that stood over him. Behind the tall dark mass where rows of children, looking to range from 3 to 10 years, their eyes completely black and dark black blood leaked from their eye sockets. “Behold, Toby! The children of Eyeless Jack!”

He screamed and stood up as fast as he could only to be tripped by dark black tendrils that wrapped around his ankle. “Tell me, Toby, have you ever seen hentai?” He fell straight on his stomach and got the wind knocked out of his chest. He tried to scream out but he couldn’t make a sound. He wheezed out, before it all went black.

Toby woke up with a start. He screamed out and sat up as fast as he could, completely short of breathe. He wheezed out and held his chest with his bandaged hands. It was just a dream…. just a dream. That was a weird ass dream. He laid back down on his bed and rolled over on his side. It felt like a giant weight had been lifted off his chest as he took in deep breathes. He stood up and padded over to his window. He saw nothing. Nobody was out there. No ghosts. No figures. Nothing. No, Toby, the zombie goasts are still there.

He heard the rustling and coughing of his father out the doorway. His door was closed. He walked over and opened it. Looking out into the hallway once again. He padded down the hallway and into the kitchen where he found his dad standing and having a smoke in their living room. Wow, an alcoholic and a smoker! At this rate, he’ll kill himself before Toby does!

Toby waited a second and watched him from around the corner before a burning feeling started deep in his chest. I thought he can’t feel anything. Also, you took the “weird feeling” thing from “Jeff the Killer.” Shame on you.

Deep, boiling, anger took over him. He heard the little imaginary voices in his head.

“Collect string in boxes! Kill the president! Coocoocachu, Colonel Sanders!”

“Do it, Do it, Do it,” they chanted.

He turned away and held his arms. He felt like he actually had control over himself, unlike he did for the past few weeks since he got home from the hospital. Well, don’t say that at your murder trial. He actually had complete thoughts for just moments before they where clouded by the chanting of the little voices in his head. Those little bastards wouldn’t shut up.

“Kill him, he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there, kill him, kill him,” they continued on. Well, if you kill him, he won’t be there ever again. Toby trembled. No. No he wasn’t going to do it. Pussy. What, was he going crazy? Well, yeah. No. He won’t kill anyone. He can’t. He hated his father, but hated no way he was going to kill him. That sentence made sense up until the comma. That was it. The last thought he had before he fell into an idle state once again. The influence of the voices in his head was too much. See, this is the problem with having voices in your head. They make you kill people and stuff. It’s very annoying.

He began to silently walk up behind his father. “Prepare your anus, father.” He reached over the counter to the knife holder in the kitchen and pulled out a the largest knife that had been resting in the case. He gripped it in his hand. He felt a sensation take over his chest. Again, I thought he couldn’t feel anything. He let out a snicker.

“Heh… heheh… hehehehehe! HAHAHAHA!” What’s so funny? he began laughing so hard he had to gasp for breathe. There is a difference between breath and breathe. Breath is a noun; breathe is a verb. His father turned around abruptly before he felt a brute force shove him to the floor. He grunted as the hair was knocked out of him. Where will you be when baldness strikes?

“What!” he looked up at the boy who stood over him, grasping the kitchen knife in his hand. “What what what what. I’m gonna beat some kids, got twenty dollars in my pocket. I’m a drinking, getting drunk off my ass. This is fucking awesome.”

“Toby what are you doing!” he went to sit up and put hand arms out in front of him in self defense but before he knew it Toby was on top of him. He went to grab at his neck, but his father reached out and blocked his hand by grabbing onto this wrist.

“Stop! Get off of me you little fucker!” he yelled and with his other hand he threw an off center punch towards Toby’s shoulder, but he didn’t stop.

The look in Toby’s eyes was not sane. “It was crazier than Charlie Sheen and Jenny McCarthy combined.” It looked as if a demon had taken control over him. Mephisto: screws up marriages and kills abusive parents. He yelled back and went to stab the knife into his father’s chest but he blocked him and grabbed onto his wrist once again. Toby, you suck at murder. He went to shove him back, but Toby kicked out his feet in front of him and landed a hard blow straight to his face. His father recoiled and pulled his arms away to cuff his face, but Toby got back up and drove the knife straight into his shoulder. “I now pronounce you man and knife!”  His father let out a loud cry and went to pull the knife out, but before he could, Toby threw his fist straight into his face. FALCON PUNCH!

He began to pound his fists into his head, laughing and wheezing. Ha ha ha, patricide is funny! He cracked his neck and grabbed the knife and ripped it out of his shoulder. He drove it deep into his dad’s chest and repeatedly stabbed into his torso, blood spilling out and getting splattered everywhere. This is overkill, man. Literally. He didn’t stop until his father’s body went still. He threw the knife over to the side and leaned over his body, coughing and panting. “The douche in dead! Long live the douche!” He stared at his smashed in face and sat there twitching, until a loud scream broke the silence. He looked over to see his mother standing a few feet away, covering her mouth, tears streaming down her eyes.

“Toby!” she screamed, “Why did you do that!?” she cried.

“You’re welcome.”

“W-why!?” She screamed.  Toby stood up and began to back away from his father’s bloody corpse. He began to back out of the kitchen. He looked down at the blood soaked bandages on his hands and looked up at his mother one last time before he turned and ran out of the house. Run, Forrest, run! He ran into the garage and slammed his hand against the control panel on the wall and pushed the button to open the garage door. Before he ran out his father’s two hatchets that had been hanging on the tool rack above a table full of jars, filled to the brim with old rusted nails and screws. That sentence made no sense.

One hatchets was new, it had a bright orange handle and a shiny blade, the other was old with a wooden handle and a old dull blade. He grabbed both and looked down at the table and his eyes met a box of matches, and under the table was a red gasoline tank. RED GASOLINE TANK, I LIFT YOU UP! LET’S HAVE A PARTY! PROCEED TO PARTY! He held both of the hatchets in one hand and grabbed the matches and gasoline before running out of the garage, down the driveway and up the street. As he approached the street light that he could see out his own bedroom window he heard police sirens in to distance. I hope the justice system makes more sense here than it did in “Jeff the Killer.”

He turned around and the red and blue flashing lights came rushing down the street. Toby stood for a second, before he pulled open the cap on the gasoline tank and ran down the street, spilling gasoline all over the street after him and he turned to run into the trees. “He also spilled some on himself, which he would end up regretting.” He poured the last bit of gasoline out before he reached in his pocket and pulled out a match. He struck it against the box and immediately dropped it. In an instant, flames burst out around him. The fire caught onto the trees and bushes around him and before he knew it, he was surrounded by fire. Smokey the Bear is going to be pissed. Also, to finish off the “Half-Life: Full Life Consequences” joke: “so he blew up the house and killed the zombie goasts so they were at peace.” The silhouettes of police cars where visible through the flames as he backed away into the forest around him. He looked around but his vision was blurred, his heart was pounding and he closed his eyes for a moment. This was it. This was the end. No, there’s still a few more paragraphs left.

Toby felt a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked over to see a large white hand with long boney fingers that rested on his shoulder. That’s not the only part of him that’s bony, if you know what I mean. He followed the arm that was attached to the hand up to a towering dark figure. It appeared to be wearing a dark black suit, and it’s face was completely blank. It towered over Toby’s small frame and it looked down on him. Tendrils reached out from it’s back. This is getting dangerously close to yaoi territory. Before Toby knew it, his vision blurred and he was surrounded by the sound of ringing in his ears. Everything went blank. That was it. That was the end. That was how Toby Rogers died. Oh. I did not expect that.

A few weeks later Connie sat in her sister’s kitchen. Her sister, Lori sat next to her drinking a cup of coffee.

About three weeks ago, Connie lost her husband, and her son, and a few weeks before, she lost her daughter to a car crash. “And then she found out she had cancer, and a long lost sister. Except that sister died long before Connie could meet her. Connie’s life sucks.” Since then she moved in with her sister. The police where keeping her busy, they had just finished cleaning up the case, and the story had been released two weeks ago, and the focus of the world seemed to have shifted to completely new stories. Yeah, that’s the news for you. Lori switched on the T.V. to a news broadcast. On the T.V. the news reporter began introducing the new headline.

“Breaking news: Marvel Studios acquires Spider-Man. Fanboys everywhere go into catatonic states of orgasmic bliss and hype.”

“We have breaking news! Last night there has been a reported murder of 4 individuals. There are no suspects yet but the victims where a group of middle school kids who had been out in the woods late last night. The kids had been ‘bludgeoned’ and stabbed to death. “Investigators think the kids might have been ‘killed’ with ‘sharp objects’. The investigators had discovered a weapon at the crime scene which appears to be a old, dull bladed hatchet, as you can see here” No I can’t. This story has no pictures. The pictured changed to show snap shots of the weapon exactly as it was left on the crime scene.

“Investigators had pulled the name of a possible suspect, OJ Simpson Toby Rogers, a 17 year old boy who a few weeks ago had stabbed his father to death and tried to cover up his escape by setting a fire in the streets and the forest area around the neighborhood. Great way to cover up your escape: create more attention on the fact that you’re leaving. Although they had believed the young boy had died in the fire, investigators suspect that Rogers may still be alive, due to the fact that his body was never found. “And now to Bob with the weather!””

#ticci toby #not my art #not my stuff #not my story #toby rogers #origin of ticci toby #creepypasta #creepypasta stories

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