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temptress-writes · 10 months

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📺 Sugar

A/N: Welcome to The Tonight Show with Harry Styles. The year is 1964, and you are his assistant. He's a bit of a shit. So this is a fun one.

C.W: sexual content: kinda rough— choking, spanking, degradation, slapping, spitting, squirting.

18+ ONLY.

***

New York City, 1964.

"Red leather, yellow leather, red leather, yellow leather."

The bright lights heated him even from behind the curtain. A warmth that coasted alongside his adrenaline. He struggled to keep his body cool underneath his designer sweater, felt his feet tapping restlessly in his leather oxfords.

This was his favourite part.

The cheers, the introduction, the attention.

You ran the lint roller over his shoulders as he sipped steaming tea from a paper cup. You made sure the collar of his plaid shirt was straight as it peeked out from his red sweater.

Another sip of steaming tea, another tongue twister.

"She sells..." You coached.

He took in a deep breath, watching you as you made sure he appeared perfect, rearranging the groomed curls on his head. Your green dress stood brightly against the black of the stage, the white cuffs of it framing your wrists as you fussed over his hair.

"She sells seashells by the seashore."

"One minute till curtain!" The stage manager yelled as he breezed by. "How're you feeling, Mr. Styles?"

"Like a million bucks, Sal!"

"That's the spirit!" Sal chuckled, running towards the side of the stage, probably chasing after an intern who wasn't doing their job properly.

"Remember, you're meeting your parents for dinner after this." You reminded, ticking off the mental to-do list that was really his. It was clogging your mind but after all, it was your job.

"I haven't forgotten." He rolled his eyes. Yes, you were his assistant, but he found you controlling at times and he had little patience for women who tried to control him. He preferred to be the one in charge.

"But you'll still find a way to be late, anyway." You stepped back with a huff. He really did make your job a living hell.

"I'm taking a refreshment in my dressing room after the show."

You scrunched up your face in disgust. Refreshment. You hated that you knew it was code for a visit from a desperate groupie. You remember when he told you how he chose which girl he liked the best. You'd been watching the audience file in and he appeared behind you, chewing gum with a confident pop of his jaw.

"Let me scope it out."

"Why?"

"Like to see who's gonna join me for a post-show soirée. See those girls?" He pointed to a group of overdressed girls, all giggling and excited for the show to start. "Bingo."

"How do you know which one to pick?"

He shot you a look, clicking his tongue. "The tits, sugar. I always pick the girl with the biggest tits."

"Ugh." You rolled your eyes. "You're disgusting."

"I'm just messin'," He tilted his head. "I'm an ass man, too."

You shuddered at the recollection.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." Your voice was laced with a seething sarcasm that he raised a brow at.

He didn't seem to conceptualise that you talked that way because that's how he talked to you. He couldn't see past his blinding, misogynistic ego.

You were purely volleying it right back at him. In hindsight, it wasn't the smartest move because you really needed this job and he had a tendency to fire staff with a snap of his jeweled fingers. He'd made the past six months hard on you and he really made your blood boil.

Who knew becoming Harry Styles' assistant would be akin to babysitting a grumpy toddler?

The Tonight Show with Harry Styles.

Hilarious with guests, a major flirt, and entertaining — even when reading out news segments.

He was well-loved by everyone. For his fun fashion statements, for his guests, his charm, his whole fantasy world on his show. Worldwide, he was adored as the most entertaining and handsome talk show host.

But you knew what happened behind the scenes.

Poised and perfect on camera, but as soon as the director called cut, you had trouble convincing yourself it wasn't a joke. People of the television world had a different sort of ego and you struggled to breathe among it all. Harry hated mingling with guests before and after the show more than he had to, he hated when the crew bothered him, he hated being approached by fans for autographs because he had a headache — or whatever excuse he was offering that day.

Don't get it twisted — he loved the attention he got from being so famous. You were surprised his head wasn't bigger. The one thing he loved most about being so popular was the fact that he could have anyone on his knees for him, be between their legs, and have them at their disposal. And he treated them like that was their only use.

The charming and cheerful Harry Styles.

Purely a falsity of a man.

The crew fled from the stage as the band started playing the introduction theme music and you swept the cup from his hand. You replaced it with two certs breath mints that he chewed on routinely.

"Wish me good luck." He demanded as you gave him a once over.

You beamed. "Break a leg."

"Thanks, sugar."

"No, like trip and fall."

His smile dropped into an unamused glare. "Oh, bite me."

The music ensued, getting louder with an abundant cheer from the live crowd, the curtain preparing to lift to reveal him. You rushed off stage, your Mary Janes clicking on the floor before nodding to Sal who gave you two thumbs up.

"Filmed before a live studio audience..."

"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."

Harry took a deep breath, already bathing in the adoration he garnered from simply existing.

"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."

You rolled your eyes as he mouthed along with the words as they were spoken.

"...Mr. Harry Styles!"

The curtain parted and he stepped forward, his hands waving to the crowd before clasping them together as he took a small bow. He blew kisses, thanking them for coming and welcoming them. He egged on the drummer of the band while the crowd cheered for him.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"

More cheers that he absolutely cherished and bathed in, letting them fuel his ego.

"We've got a great show for you tonight, we have special guests The Everly Brothers joining us!"

Your job while Harry was doing his magic spiel on stage was to check in with him during commercial breaks, smooth his hair, offer him mints, refill his water. Also to make sure everything was perfect for him when he wrapped up. He was extremely demanding, and while you were warned of that when you first took the job, you were still so surprised just how needy he was.

He liked ham and tomato sandwiches exactly fifteen minutes before he was put into his hair and makeup chair. He liked a cup of hot tea right before air time, alongside a few tongue twisters. He went through packets of Certs breath mints faster than you thought humanly possible. He also wanted a cup of black coffee waiting for him directly after he got off stage.

He didn't like to talk to anyone on his way to his dressing room unless it was Sal congratulating him and inflaming his already huge ego. Or security telling him about a waiting groupie in his dressing room. Or you, running over his schedule or helping him memorise his script. Well, he didn't like talking to you. He more or less answered in grunts or irritated comments.

As Harry settled in for his show post the joke segment, you ran around backstage. Ordering his coffee and one for yourself because you couldn't keep up with his demands without your own shot of caffeine. You were due within minutes to refresh him during the breed.

It really was an exciting job, aside from being a woman in a man's world. You were treated as such but you were lucky enough to be given the job in the first place. At first, you were nervous around Harry. It took him a second to warm up to you.

The first time you met was when he found you in his dressing room before a show, bent over the vanity as you watered his flowers. He thought you were there for a completely different reason and had quickly started to unbuckle his belt.

"Alright, let's make this quick."

You then spotted him in the mirror and turned with a gasp. "What are you-"

And before it could have got any more awkward, before Harry could even fully unbuckle his belt, Sal stormed in with a shocked laugh.

"Oh!" His amused gaze flickered between the two of you. "Harry, I see you've met your new assistant."

"I don't need an assistant, Sal. We've been through this. Why do you think I got rid of the last one?"

"Well, of course, you do! She's just here to help you perform at your best, Styles. Try not to scare this one off."

And while he'd probably never admit it to you, you actually were very helpful to have around. Once you'd stopped being so awkward and nervous and jittery around him, you found a dynamic that worked. One where he could be a condescending male and you could be just as snappy right back to him.

Past assistants had stuck to him like a bad smell and only irritated him. You did what was expected of you. Nothing more, nothing less. You kept your little purse stocked with certs breath mints, lint rollers and kept that fact that he fucked fans in his dressing rooms after and sometimes before shows quiet.

But after all, everyone was well aware. They even congratulated him on his sexual success. Nothing grossed you out more.

Aside from Harry being a mildly misogynistic, cocky, well-dressed thorn in your side, you loved your job. You met exciting guests whom you only dreamed of meeting. Stars you had posters of in your apartment, musicians whose vinyls you span on your turntable.

In your first week on the job, you met Santo and Johnny. They'd just finished a performance of Sugar Song and they flirted with you until you were a blushing mess.

Harry had watched the interaction, grumbling about professionalism and waiting for them to leave so he could torment you about it.

"Got the hots do ya, little sugar?"

"Kiss off, Styles."

That was the most colourful thing you'd ever said to him. The shock of it raised his brows and sent a singeing pang of arousal directly to his crotch.

There was a part of Harry that wanted to hate you. Because you were a woman bossing him around and because you got on his nerves. But the more rational part of him knew he could never hate you. You were too helpful and he'd be lying if he said you weren't one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen. And he'd seen a lot of girls.

But he knew you were disgusted by his habits, how he slept with so many people. In his own sick way, he used it to his advantage, to keep you at arm's length. That and endless comments he knew would rile you up. And boy, did he rile you up. He'd finessed the art of it.

The show ran smoothly tonight, but by no means were you any less busy. You raced around with your clipboard tucked under your arm and two cups of coffee in either hand. You sipped on yours, grateful for the kick it gave. Harry was saying his goodnight to the crowd, his cup steaming in your left hand as you rushed to meet him.

"Thank you for spending the night with me, New York!"

His classic closing catchphrase. Cheeky and risky, but it was him and he got away with everything.

Thunderous applause overpowered the sound of your heels clicking as you turned a corner, beelining towards the stage exit. You were late. He'd be off stage by now, demanding things and barking orders like the diva he was.

As if you weren't going to hear an earful from him as it was, an intern bumped into you. The crash caused your two cups of coffee to spill all down the front of your dress. You barely noticed the burn.

"Seriously?" You seethed, holding your now empty cups out in exasperation.

"I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching-"

"You don't say."

You could hear Harry asking where you were and you groaned, absolutely vexed. You turned in the exact opposite direction of him and back to grab more coffee. You knew he'd especially need it tonight if he was meeting with his parents.

"What happened to you?" Sal guffawed and you rolled your eyes.

"If you see Harry, tell him that his coffee is coming."

"Bit hard getting it to him when you're wearing it."

"Not funny."

A few minutes later, you held a single coffee cup. Steaming, black. You wrapped both your hands around it, holding it steady and keeping far away from anyone who could bump you. Your dress had seen better days and the stain was obvious and uncomfortably wet.

You found your way back to his dressing room, where he'd no doubt holed himself up in to freshen up. You knocked, hoping he was alone and waiting for you before continuing on with his post-show... rituals.

"Come in!" You heard from the other side and you slipped inside quickly.

"So sorry, Mr. Styles, I had an accid- oh, my god!"

You took in the scene before you. Harry. With a girl on his knees in front of him. His jeweled fingers clenching a fistful of the girl's hair as she sucked him off. His brows were turned down in the middle but his eyes... his eyes were on you. And he was enjoying it. Enjoying the girl, and enjoying you watching.

"Alright, sugar?"

"I-" You didn't know what to say, and the girl didn't stop. You didn't know if that was her doing or if Harry was holding her down. You turned, and idiotically turned back around, taking the few steps towards him, and handed him his cup of coffee. You didn't meet his eyes, like a bumbling idiot.

You left the room, but not before hearing Harry take a hefty sip of his coffee and letting out a soft moan, "Oh, that's so good."

Vexed by his antics, and the fact that he made it his mission to throw you off like that, you signed out and went home. It was as vulnerable as you'd ever seen him and you felt an odd sense of jealously wash over you. Maybe you were jealous of past you, because she hadn't witnessed it. Or maybe there was a bit of jealousy there because you wanted to be the one on your knees for him.

As delightful as the thought was for a margin of a second, you felt ill knowing you'd be another Harry Styles groupie. And it would make your job more difficult which you didn't think was even possible.

But you couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. His blissful expression, the way he directed it at you as opposed to the mouth wrapped around him. He had told you to enter his dressing room so that you could see it.

The next night, you planned on fully avoiding him and pretending the whole thing never happened. Which was hard considering, you know, you were to follow him around and listen to his demands. And especially hard because you just wished he'd command you onto your knees already.

Sure, you found him extremely attractive — everyone did. You may have even had a little crush when you first met him. But then you got to know him, and his habits and his ways. Last night grossed you out just as much as it turned you on. You felt so thrown off and now you weren't sure how to act around him.

You arrived at the studio not too long before showtime, Harry's cup of tea in hand. You were a little bit late today but you figured he could survive fifteen minutes without you. He was in hair and wardrobe, getting his curls perfected and his forehead powered.

He sat in the chair with his legs spread, a pair of black dress pants and a white singlet, his inked arms on display. You focused on staying professional and met his eyes for a brief moment as you greeted him and handed him his cup of tea. No milk, and don't be shy with the honey, he'd told you when you first started.

His eyes scanned your attire, a pink dress with long sleeves but a shorter hem than usual, he noticed. He didn't hate having to look at your legs, your plump thighs, and the intrigue of what was between them ran rampant in his thoughts.

You had a soft yellow ribbon in your hair, keeping it swept away from your face in a high ponytail. He clenched his jaw, wishing it was his hand fisting your hair. He'd tie your hands up with the ribbon so you'd have to behave for him.

"Thanks. Dig pink on ya." He took a sip, his eyes full with mischief as he watched you over the rim of his cup. "Enjoy the show last night?"

You knew he was referring to you seeing him get blown by some random groupie so you ignored him, looking at your clipboard. "So Sal wants to see you in five, and we're reconfiguring some set pieces before airtime. So be on stage straight after you've seen him, okay?"

The hairstylist finished up, and you were left alone with him in the room. You were a lot stiffer tonight, more reserved than usual and he picked up on it right away. You raised a brow, wondering if he'd heard a single word you said.

He smirked. "Why did you come in last night? You know I have post-show celebrations in my dressing room."

"I was bringing you coffee! You told me to come in!" This man was exasperating. He knew that he'd asked you for coffee and told you to enter his dressing room after you'd knocked. He wanted you to see and now he was just winding you up.

He raised a brow. "Did I?"

"Five minutes." You reaffirmed. You tried to hide the way that his tone crept down your spine in slow, hot trickles.

He sat up in the chair, his hand reaching to cup the back of your lower thigh. You stopped breathing at the sudden touch and he pulled you towards him. His gaze was searing on yours, his eyes wondering and daring.

"You wanted to stay, didn't you? Watch me get my dick sucked while I watched you."

"No, I didn't." You whispered, letting him pull you forward until you were standing between his spread legs.

"No?"

"No." Even you weren't convinced by your answer.

"Hmm... you wanted to be the one on your knees for me. Is that it?"

You took a deep, shaky breath. His question fired something off in your brain. A realisation perhaps. You did want to be on your knees for him, being the reason for his pleasure, be at his command, make him feel good, make him fucking fall apart because of you.

"So pretty in this tiny fuckin' dress." He cooed. His hand came up, cupping your cheek. Your eyeshadow was a pretty soft blue and he adored it. His fingers trailed down, tracing your lower lip. "You'd look so perfect with my cock in your mouth."

You couldn't even suppress the whimper that ensued. Did you thank him? Slap him? Get on your knees and prove his point?

He didn't seem fazed by the fact that you weren't saying much. You were responding to him in other ways. Leaning right into him with your eyes lulled, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. Your chest heaving beneath that fucking pink dress. You were driving him crazy with how badly he wanted you.

The night before had been his own sick little test. Either, you'd be game, or you'd pull away from him completely. Regardless, he'd know where you stood and accept all that accompanied him. He knew how fucked up it was but you really seemed to enjoy the game.

His other hand squeezed the back of your thigh, inching higher. "What colour are your panties?"

You gasped at the question, so turned on by him and how bold he was. It used to scare you, but now being on the receiving end was a completely different ballpark.

"Blue." You breathed out.

"What shade of blue?" He pressed on. "Like your eyeshadow?"

You twisted your lips in thought. "Do you want to see?"

Harry released a shocked laugh, but his mind was fucking reeling. Did you really just ask if he wanted to see your panties?

"A peek couldn't hurt."

He gripped your hips and lifted you up onto the vanity behind you. You were shocked that he could lift you so effortlessly and smoothly. You crossed your legs, more to tease him than anything else. Your expression was sultry, and he felt lightheaded at the sight of you. Slowly, you unfolded your legs but didn't open them.

"Don't be shy, sugar. Show me and I'll make it up to you."

You let out a slow exhale, mustering up all of your courage. You were shaking, but it wasn't nerves. He had you so worked up and he had barely done anything. He'd riled you up and talked to you, and you were already fucking saturated.

Your legs parted, feet resting on either side of his thighs on the chair. Harry's eyes stayed on yours, his hands reaching to slide up your thighs, pushing the hem of your pink press up so he could get a good view of you, finally looking down.

And what a fucking view it was. Your thighs were soft, and he let his hands squeeze at them. Sky blue lace covered the area he'd been dreaming about for six months. He let out a soft groan and let his fingertip brush over the skin where your abdomen met the panties.

"Lace? Did you wear these for me?"

"I had you in mind."

"Naughty girl." He smirked, shuffling forward. His thumb brushed over your clothed clit and you let out a whimper, biting your lip to quell anything louder than might to escape. "Can I taste you? Please? Been wantin' to for months."

You nodded, your mouth dry. You'd let this man do anything to you, and hearing him tell you he'd been wanting this for months left you in a frenzy.

"Words, sugar. Let's hear 'em."

"Please," You whispered. "taste me."

"Good girl, that's it." He pulled your panties to the side, desperate to see you and taste you. You were glistening, so wet and plump for him. He sighed, running his thumb along your clit before venturing between your folds to feel how wet you were. Your thighs jolted as he slipped his thumb to collect your excitement and spread it up to your clit.

"Why are you so wet, hm?" He wondered aloud, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Because of you, Harry."

"Me?" Cocky little shit.

"Mm."

"Are you always this wet for me, sugar?"

You hesitated, not sure if you wanted to give him this. He would never forget it, probably remind you that he knew every day. Probably slip his hand up your dress just to appease his own curiosity.

"Only when you're nice to me."

"But you like me mean, don't you?"

"You're an asshole."

"Gets you wet, though."

Abruptly, as if impatient, he lowered his head and attached his mouth to your clit. The scorching heat of it was intense, and you grabbed a fistful of his freshly tamed curls to hold him to you.

His tongue ran over your entirety. From your entrance right back up to your clit, tasting you fully as his mouth closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You threw your head back, rolling your cunt towards his face as he softly ate you with a passion that had you shaking.

Before anything more could occur, Sal knocked on the door, demanding that Harry meet with him. He knew better than to enter any room that was hidden behind a closed door when it came to Harry. But if he'd known it was you behind that door with him, that would be another issue entirely.

You shot up, pushing him out of the way and righting your dress. You were tingling and you could still feel his tongue between your legs. His eyes were dark as he watched you from his seat, amused by your fumbling.

"Go before Sal comes back." You were flustered, your body felt electric and all he'd given you was his mouth for what — ten seconds?

He was too relaxed, and it only pissed you off further. He stood, sauntering towards you to press you against the vanity. His hand cupped your jaw, his rings kissing your skin.

"Funny that you're making demands when I'm the boss."

You breathed heavily, unsure of how to reply so you just held eye contact with him. Your lips parted as his head tilted, inching closer. His hand loosened, melting to your cheek so he could rub it with his thumb.

"Who's in charge, hm?"

"You are."

"That's right." He crooned, his lips brushing yours. "And who's gonna give you his cock later?"

The air was stripped from your lungs, the depth behind his question clear. Would you submit to him? Venture into this connection you had with him? You got on each other's nerves but fuck if there wasn't the most incredible sexual tension between you.

"You are, Harry."

He hummed, gripping your hand and bringing it down to cup his cock. He was hard, and pulsed in your hand when you gave him a squeeze. You just about crumbled when he moaned, his eyes lulling as you did it again. Harder.

"There's my good girl."

Sal knocked again, clearly impatient tonight. Harry smirked and could feel his lips curl against yours before he pulled away. He left the room with a confident strut while you were left shaking. You took a second to catch your breath, willing the arousal between your legs to simmer down before heading back out towards the stage.

You grabbed your purse and kept busy doing your job while Harry caught up with Sal. He was doted over, like always, and Sal told him how his viewings were skyrocketing. After he'd finished up his tasks on stage, he was whisked back to wardrobe so he could be styled.

Because Harry was busy chatting with tonight's guest and getting ready, all you had to do was wait for him to come to you. You peeked through the curtains at the set. The audience was being brought in and you were watching the seats fill from the side of the stage.

A piercing whistle sounded out from behind you and you twirled on the spot. He looked phenomenal. His suit was a sky blue, not too dissimilar to the shade of your panties. His shirt was a crisp white, his chain peeking through where it was unbuttoned, sat between his pecs and the light dusting of hair.

His eyes looked greener when he was dressed in blue, his lips more raspberry. He approached you and your eyes flew down to his shiny black oxfords.

"Whaddya think huh?" He spun on his heels, showing off. "Matchin'."

"Blue suits you."

"Suits you, too." Harry winked, standing close to you before nodding towards the audience. "How's it looking out there?"

Was he... trying to make casual conversation? After his face was between your thighs and all the talk that proceeded it? "Full house, like always. Did you... was that on purpose?"

"What?"

"The blue suit."

"Why else would I ask what colour your panties were, hm?"

"Because you're nosy."

"You know... every time you insult me, I get hard."

"Good thing I have plenty of them, then."

"Come on," He pressed you tight against the wall. "Gimme another one."

"Prick."

He chuckled, amused by how freely you were cursing. "That all you got?"

"You're the cockiest son a bitch I've ever met." You breathed out. His hands pressed to the wall on either side of your head, caging you in.

"Alright." He was crowding your space, the spicy-sweet vanilla of his cologne clouding your senses. He checked to see if anyone was around before clicking his tongue. "Take your panties off."

"What?" You were well aware that any crew member could walk by, and you weren't about to be caught slipping your panties down your legs.

"You heard me. Just lemme hold onto 'em until the show's over."

"Are you bent? I'm not giving you my panties. I need them and someone could walk by at any moment."

"Mellow out, no one's gonna see."

You deliberated in your head, genuinely considering it. His head tilted to the side, gauging your thoughts. This was so... exhilarating. Exciting. You were so out of it for him, and glad that you finally both agreed on something. You were both attracted to each other physically and that was about it.

Fuck it. Your hands reached beneath your dress, and Harry took a step back to give you room, keeping a lookout. You stepped out of those pretty little panties and held them out to him on your index finger. He snatched them up, eyeing how delicate they looked in his hand.

"Far out." He laughed, in shock that you actually did it.

You were a bundle of surprises tonight. He was throwing stuff at you that was pretty out there and you were throwing it right back. Sweet little sugar had a little more spice than he had anticipated.

"Cheers, sugar." He twirled them around on his finger and you slapped his shoulder.

"Don't just wave them around!" You hissed, looking around to make sure no one had seen the whole interaction.

Harry shoved them in his pants pocket and you smoothed out the bump they left, always a perfectionist. The guest of the night turned the corner and almost bumped into the two of you. You jumped apart, letting Harry chat to the guest on his own. He rarely enjoyed it and you looked back to see the subtle hints of irritation on his face. You knew he'd flash that charming smile and those adorable dimples as soon as the cameras came on.

With only a few minutes until the show was due to start, you bumbled around and made sure everything was perfect for him. You were very aware of the fact that you didn't have your panties on, and with your dress being shorter than usual, you had to be careful.

Sal breezed past you, beelining towards Harry and the guest with a huge grin. He greeted them loudly and you did your part by waiting to the side for further instruction. The guest was led to their spot for showtime, one of the stage managers with them to keep them entertained and to give their cues. Harry shook Sal's hand, hearing Sal's usual encouraging words before making his way towards you.

"Feeling okay?" You checked in, handing him a couple of Certs breath mints. You walked side by side towards center stage, and he wasn't shy about his stare on you. It felt different — the air around you. Usually filled with annoyance, was something else. Hotter, dreamier, sensual.

"Snazzy." He nodded, chucking the mints into his mouth. "Little foreplay always gets me goin'."

You huffed out a breath at his response, resisting the urge to retort something cheeky as the stagehand came to run through the show one more time. You righted his outfit, his eyes not leaving you as you made sure he looked smooth and perfect.

As the stagehand left, you grabbed your round brush from your purse and went over his curls. You began adding a little volume while he hummed and oohed and aahed to exercise and prepare his voice.

"You know New York..." You guided.

"You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."

"Again."

He sighed, closing his eyes so he could focus. "You know New York, you need New York, you know you need unique New York."

"Lesser leather..." You hinted at another tongue twister. You ran the lint roller across the lapels of his suit jacket and over his shoulders, catching his eyes and not missing the glint in them. "...never weathered..."

"It's funny," He smirked. "you're a tongue twister master right now, but you won't be able to say your own name by the time I'm done with you later."

"Oh my-"

"Yeah, I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you."

"One minute till curtain, everyone!" Sal's voice boomed. "Look alive, look alive!"

The crowd was roaring with applause as the show began, but all you could hear was your pulse in your ears as your heart thudded in your chest. Harry, who usually thrived off of the cheers, was only focused on you. On your sweet voice asking if he wanted to see your panties, on your feisty insults.

"Filmed before a live studio audience..."

You called him a cocky son of a bitch and all he could think about was bending you over his knee and seeing how much shit you talked while his hand was marking your ass with its imprint.

Everyone fled the stage, but you were stood completely still in front of him. Frozen.

"Harry..."

His lips brushed yours again and your ears started ringing.

"...All the way from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire..."

"Look at you," He crooned. "Runnin' round with no panties with that pretty ribbon in your hair. Dirty little thing, aren't you, sugar?"

You could feel how slick you were between your thighs and your eyes fluttered as his hand ventured beneath your skirt from behind, cupping your ass cheek with a strong hand before venturing further. His fingertips found your cunt and you almost collapsed against him.

He hummed lowly, rumbling in his chest. He pulled his hand away, very aware that the curtain was close to pulling up. He held his index and middle fingers in front of you, glistening with your arousal, and ran them along your lower lip.

You didn't even hesitate to suck his fingers into your mouth, not losing eye contact. Harry's brows turned down, his mouth dropping as he drawled out a slow fuuuck. And then he kissed you. It was messy and wet and quick. His lips were so soft against your own before he sucked deftly on your tongue, tasting you and your cunt at the same time.

"...Give it up for your host, the one, the only..."

"Fuck, can we cancel the show?" He growled, holding you to him with a grip on the nape of your neck.

"N-No. I have to go."

"...Mr. Harry Styles!"

You fled from the stage, walking backwards, not wanting to take your eyes off him. His expression was one of longing, his eyes not leaving you either. The curtain lifted, igniting him in the warmth of the stage lighting and the eruption of cheers.

He turned and faced the crowd, waving and blowing kisses. His smile was dazzling, and his blue suit was celestial under the bright glow. He was wrapped in success and adoration. You could see it radiating off him as he found centre stage and bowed.

"Good evening, New York!" He waited for applaud to finish. "How are we?"

You rounded the backstage area, checking in with crew and chatting to the guest.

"Can I just say..." Harry continued, clasping his hands together. "you look ravishing tonight, New York." More praise from the audience. "It's true, you do."

You rolled your eyes at the excited yells and cheers from the crowd. You watched him in a totally new light tonight. He was on a level that no one could reach. He was born to be on stage, to entertain.

He introduced the guest and brought them onstage, talking about their upcoming music and chatting them up. During the commercial breaks you checked in with the guest, and made sure Harry's appearance was on point.

His eyes were on you the whole time, and you could see him fighting the urge to make some kind of questionable comment. His eyes veered south and stayed on where the hem of your dress brushed your thighs.

"Need anything else?" You asked him politely, aware of the audiences stare on your back.

"I won't need coffee tonight." He educated softly and you nodded.

"We're back in fifteen seconds." The cameraman alerted and you gathered your things and went to leave. The guest was busy fixing their hair with the stylist. Harry's hand on your wrist stopped you, pulling you back.

"Actually, there is one more thing." He back peddled, and you raised an expectant brow, leaning in close to hear him. "Stay right over there, okay? Wanna be able to see you."

He pointed to a spot off stage, where only guests and select members of crew like Sal or the director were allowed to stand during air time. And he wanted you there. So he could look over and see you and know you were watching.

"I- Yeah, okay."

You rushed off stage, standing exactly where he told you to. He watched you right until the advertisement break ended.

"And we're back in three... two... one..."

His eyes switched back to the camera, his expression slipping into the charm that came so naturally to him once he was live on air.

He was a star. Delightful and eccentric and unapologetic.

He exchanged more jokes with the guest, who as an up and coming musician, was gearing up for their performance. You stayed to watch the show exactly where Harry wanted you, and you were pleased that you didn't get any slack from Sal. You rarely got to actually enjoy the show like this, and in a way, it felt like Harry had done you a favour.

His eyes often flicked to you after he'd told a joke or said something cheeky. Like he was directed it at you, or maybe he was checking to see if you found him as funny as the crowd did. When you didn't laugh as hard as he thought the joke deserved, he'd try extra hard to get you to laugh at the following one.

It was odd that he was trying to seek validation from you when he had millions at his feet.

As the show wrapped up, you couldn't have applauded him louder. You were proud, you felt giddy and bubbly inside. He was born for this, there was no denying it.

And then there was the realisation of what was to come once the show had finished. You became nervous. And insanely wet. The anticipation rattled yet excited you and you weren't sure what to make of it.

You rounded towards his exit, a crowd of crew and groupies waiting for him. He came to you first, as you were closest. He shot polite smiles to everyone but his attention was on you.

"How'd I do?"

"Phenomenal."

"Did you like my jokes?"

You side-eyed a few people waiting for a shred of his attention and felt the need to rush this interaction between you along. You didn't want to raise suspicions and you also didn't want to take away any attention he could be giving to these people who were clearly waiting for him.

"My tummy laughs from hurting so much." You whispered. His grin was contagious, dimples and his bunny teeth on full display. His eyes were warm as he stared down at you.

"Really?"

"Mhm."

A throat cleared behind you and Harry looked up to shoot them a reassuring wink and then looked back at you. "Wait for me in my dressing room."

It was an order, even with the softness in his tone. You licked your lips, not missing when his eyes caught it. You backed away, slowly pulling your ribbon out of your hair. His jaw clenched as your hair fell free.

"Yes, Mr. Styles. Right away."

His dressing room felt alien to you as you slipped inside, a familiar place with such a different atmosphere now. How quickly the dynamic had changed between you was dizzying. You always knew you were attracted to him, but you never thought you'd act on it.

And you certainly never thought he'd have his mouth on your cunt minutes before a show.

How long were you meant to wait? You checked your appearance in the mirror, your cheeks flushed with excitement. Your dress was pristine, as was your makeup and you wondered how long that would last.

You were riffling through Harry's pile of books when he came in. Your spine straightened, every nerve tingling. He closed the door behind him, leaning back against it.

His gaze was one that had you clenching your thighs together. An intimidating hunger, a deep lust. His eyes were dark, void of the bright glint they usually offered. He didn't say anything and that only made the tension thicker.

And then he locked the door with a click.

He took one single step towards you and you inhaled a sharp breath at the slow, torturous pace of it. Like he was taunting and teasing you. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other reaching up. He gripped his lower lip between his thumb and index finger, his eyes finding your feet in your Mary Janes and trailing up your legs.

He was slow with that as well as if to keep you on your toes. He had always been so rushed and spontaneous with a lot of what he did. But this.... this he'd been thinking about for a long time. He'd had months to plan this through.

Plan how he was going to play with you, make you beg for him, make you feel good.

He really enjoyed the secrecy of it. And all that would come after. He liked the idea of meeting your eyes at work, both of you exchanging knowing looks because you both knew what it took to pleasure each other.

Fuck. His sex life wasn't complicated. He fucked fans because the likelihood of seeing them ever again was slim. But you were close to home, dangerously so. He saw you all the time. And somehow that just made him want you even more.

He produced your panties from his pocket and came to stand in front of you.

"Now," He began, lowering his head to meet your eyes. "are you going to need help keeping quiet?"

He fucking knew he'd have you screaming for him. He was just being precautious, knowing that on the other side of the door, the studio was littered with crew members.

You shook your head. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't think you're that good."

He rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek, huffing out a humourless laugh before pocketing your panties again. You were so snappy and cheeky with him and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his dick so fucking hard in his pants. You were winding him up. Trying to poke at him and provoke him. Well, it was fucking working.

"Oh, you don't think so?"

"I think that's why your ego's as big as it is. Because you can't fuck."

He did what he wanted to do earlier that day; he grabbed your hair in his fist. You gasped through a surprised smile, and he brought you close until you were pressed against him.

"What did I tell you?" His voice was low, thick with arousal. You'd never heard his voice that deep and you felt it between your legs. "Hm?"

"That you won't need coffee tonight?"

He gripped your hair harder and his cock throbbed when you smiled.

"I told you," His eyes were burning. "that I'm going to ruin you."

The way he pronounced every word was electrifying. As if he was really trying to get his message across. How was this the same man that had asked if you laughed at his jokes after his show?

You flicked your tongue against his lower lip. "Do your worst."

His kiss was far harsher this time. Still just as messy, and you figured that was just how he liked it. He wasn't shy about it. He used his teeth, nibbling on your lower lip, biting on your tongue. He used his free hand to fist your dress at the small of your back.

You were pressed tight against him and fuck, he was so hard for you. Even through his pants, you were impressed with his size. You wanted to feel more, experience him fully. You didn't have all the time in the world, locked away in his dressing room. You were both painfully aware.

He pushed you back, landing you in the chair next to the vanity. He stripped off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. You watched as he pushed your dress out of the way, clearly annoyed that the fabric was disrupting him from his goal. Your center was still so wet for him and he couldn't even suppress the low grown at the sight.

"Pretty little pussy," He gripped your inner thighs, holding them apart. "still so fucking drenched for me. You enjoyed watching me onstage tonight, didn't you? Hearing everyone fawn over me but you know you're the one I want."

"I want you, too. So bad, please fuck me." You whined, your hips rocking up restlessly.

"I wanna have a play first."

"Fuck, please just-"

He spat directly between your legs, coating your pussy in his spit. His eyes flickered up to the clock on the wall before he attached his mouth to you with a deep moan. He licked along your entrance and then right up to the sensitive bundle of nerves, fully tasting you again.

He dipped his tongue inside you, fucking you with it before pulling away with a pop and sucking your clit back into his mouth. He trapped it between his teeth and flicked and twirled delicious patterns against it that had your muscles clenching.

He ate you as if he enjoyed it more than you did. He targeted your clit perfectly, able to read your body and its responses so well.

He held eye contact while had his mouth on your cunt, burying his face against you like he couldn't get close enough. Your legs shook on either side of his head, and he kept them spread with his wide hands. You could feel how cold his rings were against your skin.

Your hands reached down, tangling themselves into his curls. You held him against you, his mouth so scorching on you that you felt lightheaded with the tingling heat.

He pulled away momentarily, slipping his index and middle finger in his mouth, all the way until he drew back so teeth were peeling off his rings. He grabbed your hand, taking two of your fingers one by one and replacing the rings on them. They were huge on you but you admired how his jewelry looked on you, the ones he wore while he was on air. Glistening and extravagant.

Now he'd removed them so he could feel you properly.

Deciding that you were wet enough, he ran the pads of his fingers along your entrance. They veered up, circling your clit slowly before heading south again. You cried out softly as his fingers slipped inside you. It was an exquisite sensation and you stared down at him in wonder, mouth agape as you moaned out.

He curled them up, your spine melting as they pressed against a spot inside of you that had before now never been discovered. It was a blinding pressure, tight and full and so fucking good.

Harry smirked at the apparent shock on your face before he moved his fingers, curling them against your g-spot. As he found a rhythm, he brought his mouth back to your clit.

You arched your back, gasping for air as he worked you. He pumped his fingers hard, bringing you higher and higher to an elevation you'd never known. His mouth left your clit and before you could complain at the loss, he was spitting on it once more before giving it a mild slap with his free hand.

You screamed out, not expecting the harshness to feel that enticing. You were being far too loud for him to continue this comfortably. He didn't want anyone to interrupt and moreover, he didn't want you to get in trouble. He wanted to make you come over and over without a care in the world.

The same hand that slapped you retrieved your panties from his pocket before he shoved the lace into your mouth.

If you weren't so blissed out, you may have even be shocked by it. But at that moment, it was so hot and dirty. You trusted him to know best and look after you.

His fingers pulsed against your g-spot and you felt an intensity building in your abdomen and you rolled your hips towards his face. His mouth was relentless on your clit, desperate to get you zoned out with pleasure.

Your walls clenched and ballooned around his fingers and he pulled away, his eyes on you. They were full of lust and hunger, piercing right through you.

"Eyes on me sugar, don't look away." He wanted to watch you. To stare into your eyes, to see your orgasm shatter you.

He pumped his fingers, his pace blinding. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew exactly what to do to get you there. He grunted with the exertion, the tendons in his arm flexing and bulging with how hard he worked you.

And then he smirked, almost pleased with himself. "Have you ever squirted before?"

With your mouth full of lace, you weren't able to verbally answer. You shook your head and he thought the confused frown on your face was fucking adorable.

Before you could even think about what he was asking, the most euphoric explosion of bliss rocked through you. You cried out into the lace, your entire body shaking as you came harder than you ever had before. It was fucking annihilating. You did as you were told, your eyes not leaving his. It was hard, of course. You wanted to shut your eyes and bask in the hot sensation that was taking over every nerve in your body.

But he wanted to watch you. And he wanted you to see the burst of fluid that erupted from your cunt, past his fingers. "Thaaat's it. Good fucking girl, come all over my fingers. Just like that."

You writhed in the chair, grateful for his grip on you. You didn't stop shaking, tremors of pleasure rocking you. He helped you as you came down, your chest heaving and your body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You didn't think it was possible for you to come that way, and you could feel yourself becoming addicted to him.

Harry stood, his hand running up and down your thighs, squeezing them. He removed your panties from your mouth, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You blushed as you tasted yourself on his tongue and curiously ran a hand between your legs to feel the aftermath of your orgasm.

He watched, thinking it was so hot to see your fingers venture between your folds and along your dripping thighs.

"Feel nice?" He hummed, chuckling at your curious expression.

"So nice, I've never... I didn't think I could do that."

"You got me all wet, messy girl." He smiled, kissing you again.

He stood and helped you out of your dress, peeling off your bra so he could play with your tits. He sucked and bit at your nipples, feeling the fullness of your breasts in his palm.

"You're delicious all over, sugar." He admired your fully naked body. "Can't wait to feel you properly. See what that tight little cunt feels like around my cock."

He palmed himself as he spoke, so desperate to feel you. His expression was one of lustful longing, and you could feel it resonate between your legs as if you hadn't just had an earth-shattering climax.

"Take your clothes off." You whined, going to sit up and pouting when he stopped you.

He started to unbutton his shirt, revealing the white singlet underneath. "Stay just like that. Wanna give you my cock while you're sitting in my chair."

The chair where he sat before every show. Reciting jokes in the mirror while his hair was fussed over. The vanity where he'd first seen you, bent over it watering his flowers.

He got rid of his shirt, clearly impatient. He peeled off the white singlet too and you could have drooled at the sight of him. His broad torso and shoulders, his toned tummy, his strong pecs. The ink decorating him. Fuck, you probably did drool.

He caught the leg of the chair on his foot and dragged you closer, undoing his pants at the same time. You shifted forward, your hand reaching out to boldly cup his cock. He groaned, lulling his head back on his neck. His hand came over yours and urged you to squeeze him harder.

"You're so hard." You mewled, humming as he watched you feel him. His jaw dropped as you moved your hand expertly.

"I've been hard for you all night."

He was hyper-aware of the position you were both in and that you were on limited time. The studio was due to lock up soon, left only to after-hours security and the cleaners.

You leaned closer, pulling his pants down with his help. You ran your lips along his length over his briefs, letting your tongue flick out. He could feel the heat of your mouth seep through the material and he was losing his mind over the fact that only his briefs separated your mouth from his cock.

You peered up at him through your lashes, grabbing the band of his underwear to pull them down. You'd always been so reserved and controlled but the look on your face when you finally saw his cock had him fucking spiraling. Intimidation, thirst, determination.

With his pants and briefs pooled at his ankles, he guided you to take a hold of him. You obeyed, wanting to please him just as much as he pleased you. You pumped him slowly in your hand, loving how he felt in your fist.

"Your cock is so..."

Harry laughed, cupping your cheek and staring down at you expectantly. "What?"

"Pretty." It wasn't the word you were going for, but it wasn't the wrong word, either. He had a gorgeous cock, so thick and long. It was silky and hot and pulsed in your hand. You were impressed and intrigued.

"Pretty?" His voice was so soft as he regarded you.

"Yeah."

Pretty. He could deal with pretty. His thumb trailed across your lips. "Mm, and how's it taste?"

You pulled away marginally, grabbing his free hand and urging him to grab your hair in his tight first once more. You laid out your tongue and licked the tip of his dick, glistening with precum. You hummed at his taste and took him deeper, using your hand to spread your spit down his shaft.

Harry moaned deeply, taking a solid step forward so that you took more of him past your lips.

"Swallow me."

"Make me."

He narrowed his eyes at you, watching as you opened wide and held still, waiting for him to make you take it. With his hold on your hair, he guided you to swallow his cock. You were able to take about half, your hand working what you couldn't yet fit.

But he was helping you, not pushing you too far but doing it inch by inch. Your eyes began to water and you gagged when he pushed in deep. Your other hand was pressed against his thigh to keep yourself steady.

"Good girl." He praised, his voice low. "Take my cock so fucking well, don't you?"

He couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. He'd imagined this day far too many times to count, and it was always blurred by the unpleasant dynamic you two shared. But here you were, sucking him off after he'd made you explode around his fingers.

You loved having him down your throat. You enjoyed the challenge. He was so big and when you were able to take all of him, it was a feeling of satisfaction. He held you down until you were choking and your nose was buried in the hair around the base of his cock.

He wiped a tiny bit of smudged mascara from under your eye, admiring the blue of your eyeshadow and the colour of your lips as they wrapped around his cock. Fuck, he needed to be inside you. He was desperate for it.

He slipped you back onto the chair, angling you so that you were open to him. It happened so quickly and your mind was reeling at the sudden change. He was in full control and had no issue putting you where he wanted you. And you trusted him. He was so arrogant and you wanted to see if his bite was just as harsh as his bite. Considering the wet mess you'd made, it definitely was.

"Fuck, can't wait to feel you properly." He sighed, grabbing his cock at the base and running his tip between your legs.

Your gripped his arms, absentmindedly smoothing your fingers over some of his tattoos. "Beg me."

"What?" He raised a brow, his tone perplexed.

"Beg me to let you fuck me. You're an asshole, tell me you're sorry and beg me. Then I'll let you fuck me."

You didn't miss the way his cock throbbed when you called him an asshole, the flex in his jaw as he took in your words. Beg? Apologise?

He scoffed. "That's cute. As if you don't get so fucking wet when I'm an asshole to you. Just like how hard I get when you call me shit like that with that filthy mouth of yours."

You rolled your hips up, gripping his hip to pull him closer to you. "Please, baby. I wanna hear you beg."

The very tip of him slipped inside of you and you both moaned at the sensation. You were so wet and tight and he knew he could step forward and be inside you fully. But the expectant look you were giving him stopped him.

He gripped your throat, leaning down so he could bend over you. He gritted his teeth, his eyes hard on yours. "Please let me fuck you, sugar. Get you gushing on my cock over and over, fuckin' drown in your wet little pussy."

"Are you going to be nice?"

"But it's better when I'm mean." He crooned. "I'll make you take my cock, fuck you so hard, and won't stop until you cry."

Your eyes fluttered as he inched forward a little, sliding himself in further. The head of his cock was so snug inside of you and the way he stretched you had your toes curling. You brought your legs higher, hitching them up to his sides.

"Please," You mewled.

"Tell me, sugar." He needed to hear you say it. "Tell me you want me to fuck this dreamy cunt."

"Fuck me, Harry. Please."

"Hard?"

"Hard."

His hand tightened around your throat as he rolled his hips forward. He stretched you, so fucking big that he had to take his time to push past your tightness. His gaze narrowed as he pressed in tight, his hips flush against you. As he became fully buried inside of you, your vision tunneled on him and him only. On how good he felt, how his eyes were trained on yours.

He'd thought about what you'd look like stuffed full of his cock but he could never have imagined you being this perfect. Whimpering and moaning so fucking sweet while his hand was wrapped around your throat.

"Please move." You begged, feeling so overwhelmed with him being so thick inside of you but not moving.

He slowly retracted his hips, your pussy trembling to keep him there. He slowly pushed his hips forward again, groaning lowly as you clenched around him. He started out slow as first, wanting to ease you into it, his hands holding onto your sides. But you were desperate.

"You call that hard, baby?"

He shook his head, smiling at the bite in your tone. "You sure you can handle it?"

"What did I tell you about that ego of yours-"

He growled, seeing that you were toying with him again. He didn't want you to have the upper hand. So he started fucking you. Hard and relentless and strong. You cried out at his strength, his cock pumping against your g-spot so perfectly.

"Fuck yes, take my cock. Good fucking girl."

It was electrical. You were saturated from your orgasm he'd given you, he hit so deep, pushing against your front wall. He gripped your breasts, admiring as they bounced while he fucked you. He spat on them, unashamed in his desires to be so fucking dirty with you.

"Love your tits." He grunted. "Let me fuck them one day, sugar. Wanna see them fuckin' dripping in my cum."

"Yes, take whatever you want." You gasped.

You'd let him. He was cheeky and an asshole but he fucked you far better than anyone else ever could and he was just getting started. And you could find ways to keep his mouth busy when it started spouting nonsense.

"Yeah?" He hung over you, his curls dangling down. "Will you let me have you again, hm? Let me fuck your throat, your tight cunt, fuck- make you my plaything?"

"I want to be your plaything." You sighed, his necklace swinging in your face, glistening silver.

"You do, don't you? I'll have this pussy on my tongue while I memorise my script. Carry your panties around in my pocket and give them back to you when you've earned them."

The pressure was blinding and he brought your legs up over his shoulders so he could take you even harder. The legs of the chair scraped obnoxiously against the ground as he fucked you into it. He was brutal, making you take his cock with each harsh thrust.

You cried out, sobbing his name. He was so deep and you knew you'd be feeling him for days after. He picked you up, sitting you on the vanity. You leaned back against the mirror, icy against your back. He hauled your hips towards him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He took his cock in his hand and fisted your hair with the other, holding you still so he could slide inside of you again. You clenched around him mercilessly, and he had to flex his hips harder so he could take you properly.

The vanity jolted on its legs under the force of him. Your hand wraps around his neck, trying to stabilise yourself against the onslaught of his thrusts.

"Call me an asshole again."

"Harry-" You jolted underneath him. "Fuck, you're an asshole."

"Yeah? Wanna hit me?"

"W-What?"

"Fucking do it. Slap me like I know you've been wanting to for the past six months."

Your hands clutched at his curls. Hitting him was the last thing on your mind right now while he was inside you. Until he'd brought it up, that is. You'd wanted to slap him on a daily basis and you wondered if he'd been reading your mind.

Mustering up courage enough to do so, you raised your hand and slapped his cheek. Not as hard as you could have, but the groan he emitted told you that you weren't gentle, either.

"So good." He grinned, his cheek reddening from your hand. You gripped his jaw harshly, licking your handprint before kissing him.

Your kisses moved to his neck and he tilted his head to give you more access to the skin. He flicked his eyes to his reflection in the mirror, finding his lustful expression, his cheek red, His eyes were alight with danger and arousal, driving his hips into you as he stared at himself. You moaned loudly as he pounded into you, unrelenting. Wanting you so out of it so that you could never look at him the same way again.

He imagined you looking at him during rehearsals, looking down at your Mary Janes with flushed cheeks. Your soft cadence as you asked him when he would fuck you next. Your surprised gasp when he'd pull you into a supply closet to fuck you hard and quick before anyone noticed your absence.

Just as you grew accustomed to the position, he flipped you, brushes and hair products flying off the top as you found balance on it. Your eyes met his in the mirror and they blazed through yours as he pushed himself into your warmth again.

"Fuck," He hissed, throwing his head back as you gripped him tightly. He held onto your shoulder and fucked you, near on slamming you into the furniture. His hand crept up to cup your throat, the other doing the same as he found a rhythm.

"Right there, don't stop." You gasped.

"Gonna think of this every time I'm in this room." He grunted. "Sit in that chair before a show and think about your perfect cunt around me. How you smile when I wrap my hands around your throat, how much you love having my cock to choke on."

"I want you to fuck me on this vanity every day, Harry."

"Every day, Sugar." He was breathless. "So much I wanna do to you. Play with you, make your pussy cream for me. Fuck, how did we go so long without this?"

He started using his height to his advantage, screwing down into you. You struggled to grasp clarity, your senses clouding as pleasure took over. His hands tightened around your throat and he took you harder when a ghost of a smile touched your lips.

He slipped two of his fingers in your mouth, hooking them into your cheek and pulling. He hissed at how fucking submissive you were and how you were willing to be just as dirty as him.

Letting go of your neck entirely, one hand moved to your hip and the other to your hair. He pulled you up, forcing you to look into the mirror.

"I'm an asshole but I fuck you good, don't I?"

You wanted to slap the smirk off his face. He could sense your annoyance at how cocky he was. He took you harder and you eyed him in the reflection, not wanting to give him an answer. And that didn't work for him.

He gripped your hair tight, pulling you back until his lips met your ear.

"Don't I?" He spat.

"Yes,"

He spanked your ass. Hard. Twice. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, you fuck me good."

Pleased, Harry reached in front of you, getting you to wet his fingers with your tongue before rubbing fast circles on your clit. Your legs turned to jelly, your body melting against him as he took you hard and played with your clit.

You felt the rush of pleasure wrap around you and grow in every nerve ending. He watched you in the mirror, intent on seeing you come again. He held you up while you writhed in his arms, his hips unyielding as he split you in half with his cock.

Your hands flew out, pushing various things off the vanity top as your orgasm barrelled towards you. Harry gritted his teeth, bending his knees to follow you as you moved so he could keep fucking you.

"You gonna come? Hm? Dirty fucking girl. Running around the studio with no panties on. This cunt was so wet for me from the start, wasn't it? Tiny dress, bossy little heels, and that fucking clipboard."

This climax was more intense than the first, but no less wet. You exploded around his cock, crying out his name before his hand came over your mouth to keep you quiet.

"Shhh. Good girl. Keep coming on my cock, don't stop, don't stop." He was feral at how good you felt around him, rubbing your clit until you were trembling at the overstimulation. His hips slowed, faltering. He was losing composure the tighter your pussy clenched around him.

He picked you up, not wasting any time in settling back on the small couch in the room. He laid flat on his back, while you straddled his hips. Your hands ran over his chest, nails digging into the skin as he gripped your ass and moved your hips.

His cock sat snuggly between your folds and you shamelessly rolled yourself along his length. You felt empty without him inside you and you lifted up, grabbing his length with a shaking hand, and slid him back into your warmth.

You both moaned out softly, his cock throbbing inside you. He could feel how close he was, as could you. Your hot and wet and dreamy cunt wasn't helping him stave it off. His vision was trained on you sitting on top of him like a fucking angel. Your tits, red from his teeth, your full hips, and your blissed-out expression.

He rolled his hips up softly, encouraging you to move. "Ride me, sugar."

You found a rhythm that had you shaking, so sensitive from your orgasms His cock pressed deliciously tight against your g-spot with every roll forward. With your hands flat on his chest, you started to bounce on him. You were so wet and the sound of it was making him crumble. The wet slaps and the way your pussy was drenching him.

His gaze met yours and he just about came. Your eyes lulled, cheeks flushed and your mouth agape as you fucked him. The most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. He grabbed your tits, playing and pulling your nipples with deft fingers. He strained his neck, moaning as you picked up your pace.

You wanted him to finish. To feel the toe-curling euphoria he'd given you. The one given when a connection like the one you had was this electric.

"Ooh, shit. Just like that." He praised, squeezing your hips so hard you knew they'd bruise.

"Yeah? You love watching me bounce on your cock, don't you?"

You'd thrown his own tactic right back in his face. The sweet voice with the daring question. Of course, he loved it. He was addicted.

"Fuck yes."

Your hand trailed up, lightly wrapping around his throat. He could feel the rings he'd given you to wear against his skin and he snarled, holding your hips and screwing up into you, meeting your thrusts. Having you fuck him with your hand around his throat had him fucking spiraling into another dimension.

"You're close," You mewled, his cock throbbing hard inside you. "I can feel it."

"Yeah? Go on, make me cum. I'm gonna cum so fucking hard for you, sugar. Gonna fill you right up, fucking take it. Take all my cum- fuck."

He let you take him while his orgasm hit. It was white-hot intense, his grip on you not lessening as he moaned out your name. He pumped you full of his cum, the thick white ropes painting your walls. His brow turned down in the middle, his lips parted a little and you could see the whites of his teeth. The thick cords in his neck protruded under your hand.

He was stunning and animalistic and brazen, even in a time when one is most vulnerable.

The muscles and tendons in his arms flexed as he held you down on top of him, humming out lowly as the flames of his orgasm dimmed into embers.

And while neither of you was sure how it would feel post the explosion, you'd expected at the very least that it would be awkward. You didn't have the fondest attachment towards each other but fuck if you weren't addicted to each other's bodies now.

He sighed, reeling in his climax. His hands crawled up your sides, encasing you and encouraging you to come down to him. He hugged you, sighing in your neck before kissing the skin. You could hear a commotion in the hallway of the crew leaving and it suddenly sunk in that you'd just fucked your boss.

And neither of you could wait to do it again.

"Should we get out of here?" He asked after a few minutes.

"We?"

"Mm. Head back to mine if you want. Got the new Sam Cooke vinyl we can jam out to."

You grinned, trailing your finger along his lips. "Can we fuck again?"

His expression mirrored yours. "We are definitely fucking again. Don't have to be as quiet at mine, wanna hear how loud you get."

You rolled your hips, feeling his cock softening and his release beginning to trickle out of you. He hummed, squeezing you as if to warn you.

"Behave, sugar."

"But that's no fun."

He couldn't disagree with that. He checked the clock and knew there was only a slim window of time for you both to leave the studio without raising any brows.

"Come on." He slapped your ass. "Let's clean up and cut out."

You slipped into the bathroom, your legs shaky from how hard he'd taken you. You cleaned up, as he'd told you to. Your reflection in the mirror was a sight for sore eyes and you tried your best to look presentable and not freshly fucked.

As you entered the dressing room again and gathered your things. Harry had dressed in his more casual clothes, a pair of mint dress pants and a t-shirt, throwing his fur coat over his shoulders. He noticed the way you slipped on your dress and smoothed out your hair, touching up your lipstick. He approached you, wrapping his arms around you as you stood in front of the vanity.

"You know I'm just gonna get you all messy again, don't you?"

"I'm counting on it."

He smirked, kissing your neck and fisting the hem of that tiny dress. You pulled away, eyeing the time. You bent over, going to pick up your panties and frowning when he snatched them up before you could.

"Hey, I need those."

"What'd I say, hm? You'll get them back when you earn them." He slipped the blue lace in his pants pocket, straightening his fur coat and holding out his hand.

"Jerk." You walked towards him, nudging his hand away and leaving the dressing room. A showcase that the feisty dynamic between you was here to stay. The lights were off in the studio now, aside from a few dim ones high up on the walls. He scoffed, racing after you. He lagged behind a few steps, wanting to watch your legs as you walked. You turned, throwing him a dubious look and he smiled innocently as he was caught checking you out. "What are you-"

A gleam of a security guard's flashlight lit up the wall next to you. Harry swore, pulling you towards the exit before you were spotted. You wouldn't get in trouble per se, but being sneaky was so much more exciting than sticking around.

"Shit- let's haul ass, sugar. Wanna play with you all night."

The warmth and adoration he felt on stage, under those lights with every pair of eyes set on him. It was a dimmed sensation compared to how he felt with you. His sugar. Saccharine yet equally as fervent, gooey and thrilling and sticking to him as if magnetised to his cells.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles filth #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #smut #hes #anon #hs #hslot

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billskeis · 3 months

Note

could you write a story where like bill is away on tour with the band and reader sees his instagram story and texts bill to complain/flirt. And could it be m!reader or gn!reader pls.

(This one)

https://www.instagram.com/stories/billkaulitz/3267364916998050112?igsh=cXl5ODl5dXA5OWlx

ᡣ𐭩 bill's instagram story

with the constant concerts, meet and greets, interviews, and being on the go, tokio hotel has been making their way through fame being the youngsters they are. how incredible!

and despite your appreciation for bill’s passion in music, you miss your boyfriend so much.

tossing and turning in your bed, you stare at the ceiling in your bedroom. boredom completely consuming you as most of your time before was spent with bill.

it was a saturday night and you had no school. with bill being gone, you resorted to any other alternatives to kill some time. unfortunately, all of your friends either had plans or just were simply out of town.

so that’s crossed off the list.

you decided to open your phone and check your social media. one of your favourite shows in the background playing and some snacks left to the side where your bedside table lay.

a highlighted rainbow ring surrounds the profile. the profile picture is familiar.. oh wait, it’s bill! you smile seeing how active your boyfriend was on his social media. what made you even happier was the fact that he had thousands—no MILLIONS of fans but he was dating YOU.

yeah that’s right.. you’re that bitch.

it didn’t occur to you until a few seconds later that bill didn’t respond to your text, but he was actively posting on instagram. how peculiar.. you decided to open the instagram story and immediately dropped your phone on your face.

“fuck—ow! bill, you little shit..”

“what the hell are you doing bill..?” tom barges into the hotel room of his little brother to retrieve god knows what.

bill jumps a bit at the unexpected voice that emits from out of nowhere. almost dropping his phone, bill fumbles around with the phone in the air as he attempts to grasp it once more.

“tom what the fuck!? you scared me,” bill rolls his eyes at his twin brother, “still didn’t answer my question,” he bends down to grab a coke from the mini fridge, popping the lid open to take a swig out of the carbonated beverage.

bill smiled at his phone as he opened the camera app once more, clicking pictures after each second and changing the angle to which he held his phone in, “just a lil’ sumthin.. for y/n of course!”

tom raised an eyebrow, “you might as well show them your dick while you’re at it.. pants hanging so low you’re like a whore,” “uh—rude first of all, and this is coming from the same person who’s rummaging through my bags for a condom?” tom stills his movements with his hands inside bill’s carrier looking for a specific piece of.. rubber…

“potato pitato bitch i live life freely..” “whatever,” as bill scrolls through the images he’s taken, he chooses the perfect one, adds a little caption and posts it to his story, “aaand done! posted!” “huh? posted?” tom questions.

“yep! on my story ;)” “i hope y/n beats your ass,” tom sighs as he begins to leave the hotel room to go god knows where—probably some one night fling he’s found during the concert, “i wouldn’t mind it,” as bill opens his story to look at his own picture and giggles to himself about it.

“now we wait.”

you stare at your phone in disbelief. now you knew bill was an expert in leaving you on edge constantly but this just does it for you.

on bill’s story it’s a picture of him, completely topless and his pants hanging so low to reveal his v-line. his waist is slim, and curves inwards. now he’s not the most fit or as active as in comparison to tom but you still adored his physique.

his nipples are out, you realize you were now drooling and begin to inhale sharply.

on top of that, his tattoos are exposed. even the new one he so declared that he wouldn’t reveal until a few years later but here we are. it’s only been a few months. now the whole world, and not only you, can see it.

you feel your face heat up, jealousy or anger. you can’t believe he’s stirring up a storm with you.

a few more seconds of you analyzing every little detail of his story, because you clearly couldn’t get enough you forgot the most important detail of them all.

the caption.

there was a little text on the screen that bill had typed to accompany the photo. in black bold text, how could you not notice this?

‘concert done, missing you more everyday ;3’

scoffing, your lips begin to curve in an upward smile as you swipe up to respond to bill’s story.

11:49pm

couldn’t have texted me back like a normal person?

11:50pm

hehe, so u saw it!

nuthin abt me is normal :>

11:52pm

ur so lucky ur not in town rn..

11:55pm

or what schatz?

11:56pm

i’d eat u, bill. >:)

11:58pm

oh noooo don’t eat me D:

i’m soo scared

12:01am

wait until u cum back..

b prepared..

12:03am

i really miss u, y/n.

i need u.

12:04am

oh ya? miss me so much? ;)

12:05am

so much baby!!

a few minutes pass, no answer.

12:10am

schatzi? where did u go T_T

*click to open photo from _*

there you lay, in bed. shirt pulled up a few to reveal your soft tummy, from the graphic of it, it appears that you’re currently in one of bill’s shirts that he originally ordered but ended up being too big for his desire so he gave it to you.

no pants, you had no pants on. bill begun to sweat as a particular tightening formed in his pants.

12:12am

y/n!! u little maus!! >:o

12:12am

oopsies :p

bill had to put down his phone to look up at the ceiling. it’s been since before the tour that bill’s got some action.

just imagining you under him, heavily breathing, mouth agape and eyes clenched with tears falling to the side of your face as he uses his thumb to swipe it away.

the uncomfortable feeling in his lower groin becomes one that is unbearable.

“fuck.”

12:26am

bill?? bb?? r u punishin me 4 the picture??

i’m sorryyyy -3- don’t ignore me

*click to open a voice message from billkaulitz*

“oh…”

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz fluff #2000s #fyp

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soundspeachytome · 4 months

Text

7 minutes in heaven - shohei ohtani au

summary: Y/N snoops around famous football player Shohei Ohtani’s locker in search for a scandal against his clean record but ends up in one herself.

tropes: friends with benefits, friends to lovers(?)

tw: *slight* smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving)

word count: 30,033K words (i'm SO sorry in advance holy shit)

hi! it's been a while. when i made this account, i vowed to write at least once a week but it had been so difficult this month juggling work, my chronic migraines, and seasonal depression (lol).

please note i did not proofread this so plsssss i apologize for grammar mistakes and inconsistencies!!

posting this on the last day of 2023, hoping to give everyone a good read before we welcome the new year. so thankful for this small space to try, linger and reset all over again. hope you had a very merry holidays with your loved ones.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

==================================

Locker Lockdown

At around thirty minutes past four in the afternoon, I skimmed the clubhouse for any signs of life. It was only the quiet that prevailed. Clear.

I tiptoed my way towards the player locker room. I only had around ten minutes to locate the correct locker and take whatever I could find. Discovering the locker area to be empty and unguarded, I felt a surge of excitement.

Six years later, I couldn’t get my big break and decided sports journalism could catapult me into somewhere big in the industry. This is my last chance to prove myself, otherwise I’d have to reconsider going back home and write Hallmark greeting card messages again.

Shohei Ohtani’s jersey number is the number 17. Lucky bastard, after all these years and even after going through free agency, he got to keep his famous number, even at the cost of having their senior player give it up for him when he joined the football team.

And here you might be wondering why I’m doing this aside from my sheer desperation to get an official spot in the workplace and not eat scraps of topics editors discarded for themselves.

Some people are privileged to a fault.

And I hate seeing him on TV. Or on social media. Or his Colgate-white smile plastered all over my favorite beer and skincare brands.

Some would say this is the TMZ tabloid level of writing. I say this is investigative journalism. Find out if the famous favorite son-in-law has any flaws of his own and wrap around a bowtie of hidden horrors of sports documentaries.

And where else can we find this but in the athlete hotpot: their locker room.

I found Shohei’s locker right away as it was the tidiest locker among all on display, with nothing but brand-sponsored clothing hung neatly on the rack. He also donned the top shelf with some dog-eared self-help titles and vitamin bottles. While the rest of the athletes have pictures of their girlfriends, wives and their kids, Shohei has an unreleased polaroid selfie with his dog, Dekopin, just right beside his perfume bottles. Dekopin was looking away, captured in mid-yawn, with his ears raised, and Shohei, smiling into the camera with pursed lips and a snapback on.

I got so immersed into reading the ingredients of his vitamin bottles, trying to find anything remotely related to steroids, or any form of illegal bodily enhancements, that I didn’t notice footsteps from outside the hall.

“What are you doing here?” a voice loomed behind me and I dropped the diet supplement bottle in panic.

Only the sound of the bottle rattling could be heard as I locked eyes with Shohei Ohtani, tall and all muscular. His hair was sweaty and unkempt and his eyes held mild anger and confusion. After the bottle stopped rolling and settled somewhere on the floor between us, there was only silence and the cold sweat building up at my back.

I swallowed hard. I planned everything from studying the stadium’s entrance and exit doors but I didn’t plan on bumping into him. Not like this. Not when I’m at the lowest level of the social hierarchy right now.

I could only be ashamed.

Brain still befuddled at the thought of getting caught, I urged my limbs and picked up the vitamin bottle and returned it back to Shohei’s locker. The plan was not to respond at all and run as fast as I could before the rest of his team arrived. That was the only way to keep whatever dignity I have left.

“I said, what are you doing here?” He caught my arm mid-exit and pulled me back, tightening his grip.

“Let go of me.” I struggled to keep my balance and the way my voice wavered was no help at all.

Shohei saw the camera slung over my shoulder and looked back at me, realization hitting him.

“Y/N, are you a sports journalist now? And were you looking through my stuff?” he said, sounding almost disappointed.

“That’s none of your business. Let go of me.” I kept my voice steady but his grip only tightened. The sides of my eyes slowly formed tears.

“What tabloid media do you work for? I should report you. Would you like that? What a shame you’ll be banned from all the games now, right? You nasty journalists just won’t keep your noses away from my business.” he took my camera and deleted all the photos I took of the contents of his locker. I tried to leap for it but he was obviously inches taller than I was and I was no match for that.

“I don’t write tabloid news. If I was, my name would have been all over TV by now.” I grabbed the camera from him and sighed morosely at the lost media. A day’s work is all lost.

“My boss gave me a green light to do a documentary about the team. And the star player.” I wiggled my fingers in front of him, as if to emphasize the word “star” in front of him.

“I came here assuming you and the other players would be here for an interview but no one was around yet. So I hung around a bit and took interest in your nutritional supplements.” Lie after lie after lie. I gritted my teeth and faked a smile. The most convincing lie I’ve learned on almost all my failed dates and relationships was to stroke a man’s ego and have him talk about all the things he is interested in, making him divert his attention to something else.

“You’ve got really good, um, vitamins for muscle recovery there. Maybe that’s why you got so big and strong, right?.” He looked at me dubiously, nodding responsively to be polite. If he took the bait, then he is obviously just like any other guy I’ve ever met.

“I mean, I guess? I’ve been doing deadlifts so–”

Approaching footsteps and faint voices were heard from the hall. Shohei pushed me toward the opposite end of the hall, where the showers were located.

“Wha–” I started but was shut up when he pushed me further into the back of the shower room, swiping the doors closed.

“Shut up if you don’t want to be caught.” He growled and I recoiled back into the tiled corner. On top of me was the almost rusting shower head who had seen better days, and two bottle pumps for shampoo and body wash.

Voices and conversations were starting to fill in the locker room that was empty only a few seconds ago. The voices of men echoed through the shower rooms. You could hear the sound of water turning on from neighboring shower stalls, laughter and tired conversation in the locker area. We were surrounded.

Shohei could be heard laughing with his mates while blocking the door to the shower room I was hiding in.

“Are you using that, Sho? I could use a hot shower right now.” one of his teammates said.

“Uh, no, I was just about to use this room, sorry.” he said, almost hesitating. After a few seconds, he entered the shower room and started undressing.

I widened my eyes and shot him daggers. When he unhooked his shirt from his armholes, I was rendered speechless.

He had the body sculpted by the gods with his wide shoulders and large pecs that glinted under the light. How could someone look handsome and beautiful at the same time?

So when Shohei reached for the waist belt of his pants down, I didn’t know why I had choked on a silent scream. I looked away, embarrassed to have reacted like an inexperienced teenager. I have seen and have been with naked men before. This should be nothing new to me and my level. Or so I thought.

I stole a glance at Shohei, who was slowly walking towards me (or to the showerhead, where I stood under, obviously) in only his boxers on, gazing at me in wild amusement.

We were almost inches apart from each other, foreheads almost touching, breaths almost converging, if you may. If I stand on my tiptoes, I would be almost at his eye-level and I could peck him on the lips if I wanted to.

If I wanted to.

“Sorry, but I need to shower or someone else will try to take this stall.” His voice broke my salacious thoughts. He looked at me and turned the shower on.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m supposed to. Aren’t I? I just got off practice and I stink.” He said almost sarcastically.

“So I’m supposed to just watch you bathe and hope I get out here alive?” Water slowly dripped into my shirt, soaking my chest and exposing a bit of my underwear.

“If you didn’t sneak in here, we wouldn’t have this problem.” He concluded and pursed his lips, not looking at me.

“Shohei? You okay? You sound like you’re talking to someone.” a familiar voice floated into the shower room.

“It was a video on my phone that I forgot to pause, Ippei-san.” Shohei’s face turned red but recovered quickly, glaring at me.

“Oh, well then, I thought you finally had a girl in there. I was wrong.” Ippei laughed.

Shohei started lathering body wash on his body at the slowest pace possible. His hands glided through his chest, stomach, and into the dick he’s restraining inside his boxers. Simply having this view had me almost whimpering. If it had been another day, I would have obviously enjoyed this, having a sexy man bathe in front of me, because who wouldn’t? But under my circumstances, I’m only fairly annoyed at being a flustered, hot mess and I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Oh, fuck, now you got me wet.” I blurted a little loudly as the water splashed and got into my socks.

Shohei’s widened and panicked eyes shot at me.

In between those short seconds, Shohei was able to respond quicker than my brain could. He had faked a laugh and said loudly, “Well, that’s awkward, the video keeps on playing on its own. Let me turn my phone off instead.” gaining laughter from outside the shower area and then reaching for the small of my neck and closed whatever space was seen between us.

Based on what I had learned in self-defense training, my initial bodily reaction should have been this: If someone is coming at you from the front, a groin kick may deliver enough force to paralyze your attacker, making your escape possible. 1. Stabilize yourself as best you can. 2. Lift your dominant leg off the ground and begin to drive your knee upward. 3. Extend your dominant leg, drive hips forward, slightly lean back, and kick forcefully, making contact between your lower shin or ball of your foot and the attacker’s groin area.

Instead, when his lips touched mine, I felt my arms throw around his neck and pulled him closer. They say we’re all beggars for something, and this indulgence I had let myself be greedy for.

When his lips reached mine, I parted like the Red Sea almost immediately, welcoming him and everything that he could offer: the taste of his tongue on my mouth, the smell of honey orange and apricot from his body wash seeping through my nose as I peppered kisses on his chest, and his obviously hard dick grinding against my stomach. When I palmed him, he managed a low growl and caught my wrists.

“Not here.” he groaned.

I pushed my head back inquiringly, both of us breathing too hard.

“I have no condom,” he tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. Under the dim bathroom light, I could see his face and chest were flushed. “Next time?”

“Well, usually when two old friends meet after a fall out in college, they just catch up and have coffee.” I said.

He laughed and said quietly, “Okay, so I owe you.”

“The coffee or the protected sex?”

“Uh, it could go a lot of ways.” Before he could say more, I palmed him through his boxer shorts and looked up at him, trying to find his limit.

Shohei bit his own lip and tugged the roots of my hair in a bundle, pulling and tugging from the pleasure. To keep himself from making such ungodly hot sounds, he pushed his tongue down my throat and thrusted his hips back and forth against my hand.

As if to make it even, he unclasped my bra and sucked on my already soaked breasts, a satisfied groan slipped from me. We both pulled and pushed and sucked and kissed each other in the crevices the shower splatters couldn’t reach, silencing the moans before it could escape us.

In that brief and elating moment, while we muted the noise from unsuspecting people, we smothered each other’s groans and reached our highs in the quietest, most pleasurable way possible.

=========================================

7 minutes of heaven

It’s strange how I always find myself in the most ridiculous situations.

The next few occasions that I’d meet Shohei would be wordless and timed interactions in enclosed spaces. We’d see each other in public and pretend we didn’t know each other but slip each other notes of the next place we’d secretly meet. It all felt strangely exhilarating to keep a secret like a fifteen year old would, with all the sneaking and running.

We’ve explored almost every nook and cranny of the stadium, discovering hidden spots of our rendezvous. We’d meet up in a different bathroom and he’d push me on my back while he fucks me repeatedly on the bathroom sink. Pre-game preps meant I gave him blowjobs in his manager’s office hours and hours before everyone even arrived.

Of course, when we ran out of places to hide, we’d go as far as looking for the next empty parking lot and tried to fuck each other noiselessly.

“So when can I take you out for dinner?” he had asked one day, when he dragged me out to meet with him around after midnight. I wouldn’t let him inside my apartment and I refused to do the deed in his either, so he’d bring me to places that only us knew, to fuck, to kiss, sometimes to talk, but more often, to drive each other’s pleasure and only that.

Because god forbid we both catch feelings and lose the fun, right?

So no talking, no sharing of personal details, no anything.

We were in an empty parking lot, away from the lampposts and streetlights. Shohei had made sure that we were well hidden in the dark.

He had his legs spread while sitting on the driver’s seat. His hands, warm and wide, rested on my hips and thighs, lightly urging me to ride him slowly.

Soft RNB music played on the stereo, it was a quiet, still night. It was both our day off so he had wanted us to chill and take the sex slowly.

Slow meant gazing at each other’s eyes–gaze, not look–with endearment or adoration, not lust or pleasure. Slow meant thinking the unthinkable thoughts. Slow meant being vulnerable while coming undone.

And I don’t want the slow and quiet moments. I wanted the fast and rough with no time to talk, gaze or even think, just one hundred percent fun and debauchery.

“Mmm. Maybe when you show me your photos,” I avoided the question but I also knew Shohei would never show me the photos he had taken–past and present. Even when we had been buddies for an entire semester, he had, not once, shown me his portfolio.

“So probably never, right?” he gazed up at me with his creamy brown eyes, hands caressing my stomach lightly.

“Probably,” I muttered and with that he had gripped my thighs tightly and moved his hips upwards to meet me. I moaned when he hit me in the right spots. Any sign of softness he had shown a few moments ago was gone, and only the roughness and unsettling disconnection remained.

This particularly fine day, I would be standing at the mercy of his mouth. He had dragged me to an empty storage room in the east wing of the stadium, hours after practice. According to him, the area stands the exact opposite from the lockers so most people hardly come by. How he had found out about this, I had no idea.

He was kneeling in between me, my right leg hooked on his shoulder, giving him more access and my hands tugged at the strands of his hair every time he licked my sensitive clit.

Shohei’s tongue grazing against me had left me quivering in delight. He stands up and kisses me, giving me a taste. My fingers started unbuckling his belt when he felt his phone vibrate.

“Oops, Ippei’s looking for me.” He pockets his phone, looking forlorn, as if telling me he didn’t really want to go yet. “See you again next time?”

“Yours or mine?” I had asked, brushing up and straightening my wrinkled dress. And when I realized what I had done, Shohei’s eyes shot up and he beamed widely.

“I just– I- I want a proper night with sex, you know.” I explained, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s so uncomfortable having to go commando at work after you had just literally sucked the life out of my vagina, Sho.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He smiled even more.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“What? Fuck off.” By this time, my face felt hot and had probably looked red like a tomato, which probably amused Shohei even more.

“Your place, then. I’ll call you.” he gives me one last kiss then heads out first, leaving me a dazed and pulsating mess.

A shrill sound knocked me awake. It felt like seven thousand screaming hungry babies in my ear, bouncing off around my brain like a pinball.

I looked at the digital clock on the bedside table and saw the time glinting behind the glass: 8:41 PM. I must've fallen asleep after taking a half day off from work, feeling nauseous and slightly feverish. It seemed that whatever body malaise that I have been carrying inside me earlier had sprung into a full-blown ailment.

I pushed my body up and walked groggily to the source of my misery.

Someone was buzzing the doorbell and repeatedly pounding on the door. Great.

“If you’re not dead or dying behind this door, you’re about to be.” I croaked harshly, throat burning; putting all my remaining energy in pulling the door open. I was greeted by an extremely tall man with frantic brown eyes, searching my face.

“Oh, thank fucking god. I’ve been knocking for half an hour.” he wrapped me in a tight hug, I almost collapsed. Partly because of the throbbing headache and overall discomfort that I already felt, but hugely because of the warm minty scent of Shohei Ohtani.

“Jesus, you’re burning up!”

“What are you doing here?” I said, struggling in his grip, his face resting on the curve of my neck. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You don’t text someone ‘at least i’ll die happy today knowing that my last meal was shoyu ramen’ and then not fucking reply after.” We were still standing by the entrance, his face now angled towards me, a look of concern or anger mixed in his face, I couldn’t tell. My cerebral cortex functions seemed to have shut down after witnessing this unexpected tenderness.

“Medicine knocked me down cold.” I shrugged weakly.

Shohei pulled me into the bedroom and tucked me back in, apologizing for his intrusion, putting down plastic bags of what seemed to be groceries on the kitchen counter, and went back to lightly scolding me for proper texting etiquette to family and friends, to anyone really. That my dark humor doesn’t translate well in messages and that I could have really died and people would think I’m joking but really, he got so scared that he went here as fast as he could.

I don’t remember much but in between fever dreams and my ibuprofen haze, I faintly remember the savory taste of rice porridge exploding in my mouth, the constant dabbing of a cold towel on my face, neck and chest, sometimes, my back, too; the smell of rubbing alcohol and a large, gentle, almost loving touch.

I don’t remember much but in between waking up in the darkness and stone-cold silence, I remember soft forehead kisses until I drifted back to sleep; of big strong arms enclosing me into a big embrace, as if to tell me, you can put your guard down now. you are safe here.

I don’t remember much from coming in and out of slumber, but I remember thinking: wouldn’t it be nice if this wasn’t a dream?

======================================

Reset

In the end, I quit sports media on my own volition and got into a friend’s ceramics house. I have always had a thing for ceramics and sculpting as early as college, where I had met my then-professor and now friend–who happens to be the owner of mentioned ceramics house. She had always praised me and encouraged me to join her when she first opened the shop, but as someone who had musings for writing at the time, I politely declined and pursued, you guessed it, journalism.

I’ve always been good at writing, no doubt, from the way professors always had a good word for me, but I always seem to get into the wrong places every time. Time moves fast if you’re a journo, if you’re slow, then the news is rehashed news, it would just be a late-night recap at a midnight slot that no one is ever awake to watch.

Here, inside her shop, it was quiet, and time moved slowly. I can get into my laziest clothes and no one bats an eye. I can finally retire my stilettos and straight cut blazers.

It was all so going well. The customers were always mid-twenties who got interested in our social media marketing of creating your own mugs and other ceramics and always came in in groups, duos, and solos.

Slowly, I realized that not everyone gets to the places they want. Even when you work blood and sweat for it. Not all were built like, say, Shohei Ohtani, whose talent was recognized early and afforded him an automatic slot in the big leagues.

Some are born to be big icons and some, like the rest of us, are meant for smaller, softer spaces. I get that now. It finally felt like I was in the right place and pace.

All this positivity and good timing felt all too good to be true and been proven accurate when the scandal blew up.

Shohei Ohtani photographed exiting his LA apartment with a woman in his arms.

Shohei Ohtani’s rumored girlfriend receives backlash from fans: READ MORE

EXCLUSIVE: More photographs of Shohei Ohtani and rumored girlfriend driving away in his Porsche

Rumored girlfriend of Shohei Ohtani: Who is She?

When I say it was everywhere, I meant it exploded right in front of our faces like a million confetti, falling and twirling fast. It was unstoppable. It was inevitable.

I felt my limbs go numb when I read the morning news. There in bold and black letters was the headline, my name and a clear photo of me holding Shohei’s arm, smiling. A certain news outlet had gotten juice of us and our secret hideouts and had spread all over social media like wildfire. You know what’s funnier? The media outlet that released this was my previous employer. The same company that asked me to snuff out a controversy. While I had failed to give them the news they wanted, I had unintentionally brought them an exclusive that wrote my entire name–and face–off the map and potentially ruined Shohei Ohtani’s clean record.

Shohei Ohtani, despite his happy-go-lucky and passive demeanor, was a very serious and straight-laced person. I already knew this in university but I got to see more of this side of him when we had started the fucking thing. Even though I had clearly told him that I didn’t want any strings attached, it was unavoidable to give and receive bits and pieces of each other when we’re not naked.

I did enjoy talking to Shohei under the sheets. His ingenious ideas and the way he talked about the things he adored spilled all over him, like afternoon sunlight streaming in between curtains, making way even through the small spaces to cast his light. I basked into this warmth as much time allowed me, because who knows when I can experience the glow of his presence again after all the chaos.

He was exactly like the golden hour: a warm afternoon orange luminescence that usually only stays for ten to fifteen minutes a day. If you wait too long to look up, he disappears quickly as he goes, leaving only the faint orange, yellow and pink hues chasing after him before the black of the night takes over you.

Well, now the fairytale has run its course and the sun has set to announce that golden hour is over. Night has finally fallen on me and I’m feeling scared and alone.

The first thing I did was to grab as much stuff as I could and put them all in my luggage and filed for an indefinite leave.

As if like clockwork, my phone rang and saw Shohei’s name on the caller ID. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. What could I possibly say to him? That I used him just for the clicks and the views? That after all this time we spent together, he would realize that I am still the same despicable, scathing piece of garbage who’d trample on anyone just for a few cents?

So I don’t answer. Even when he calls back again and again and leaves me twenty or more messages by the hour. I turned my phone off. The latest message from Ohtani coming up on the notifications bar read, “Where are you?” before the screen flashed to black.

I have nothing but my pride left. I’d like to keep it that way. In such a way, I was embarrassed, too. I thought I finally had something to brag about. A job that I actually liked and enjoyed, a peaceful mind, and the possibility of liking a guy who had shown me nothing but kindness.

And because I couldn’t handle all of this, I handled it like I have always handled things: I ran away like a coward.

I rode a bus without reading its destination card and let it drive me away as far as it could, to someplace where no one knew me or Shohei Ohtani, or had any idea about the news.

The bus drove away and I never looked back.

================================

Waiting Until My Spring Comes Again: Shohei’s POV

Just like that I lost her. She wasn’t even mine to begin with.

When the news broke out, I was so furious that I wanted to drive to the news outlet that published the article and give them a piece of my mind. I knew my blind rage would have done more damage so I didn’t.

Instead, I looked for her and wanted to let her know that whatever happens, I won’t drop her just like that. That I’m willing to acknowledge the rumors and make it official, if she wanted to.

I’ve always been open to the idea of taking it to the next level with her but every time I broached the subject, she would change the topic, get into a foul mood, or try to pick a fight with me. Which I found endearing. She’s so adorable when she pouts. And when she pushes her luck thinking a five foot four girl like her can withstand someone as tall as me.

I just can’t help but laugh and feel a flutter in my stomach. She’s someone who has been adorable and held a special corner in my heart.

Y/N’s face was so expressive and whatever emotion she was in it would always be evident on her face. When she’s happy, a dimple on her cheek shows up. When she’s feeling sad or down, she’d look downcast and would prefer that you leave her alone. When she’s thinking about something deep, she would chew on her lower lip and always had a blank almost unfocused stare. Despite her many faces, I’m sure as hell that I love all of them. I wanted to be by her side when all this shit happened, I wanted to see which face she was making. Is she pissed like I was? Is she sad? I wouldn’t know. The moment her number didn’t connect after I had tried reaching her, I already knew that she was avoiding me.

I lost count of how many messages I had sent her, of how many missed calls and voicemails I left her. She was unreachable. She gave me her spare key so when I tried visiting her apartment, it was empty.

She was gone.

And only the traces of her lingered in her apartment. Her unwashed mug with leftover stale coffee was on the kitchen counter, specks of lipstick staining the mouth. Dirty clothes hanging on her bathroom door, forgotten and unwashed. The peachy scent of her purifier that always latches on to her clothes whenever we go out. Her unread books on her coffee table, some dog eared and annotated.

Everything that I love about her is here except for her and I miss her.

For the next couple of days, I dodged the media and focused on training, playing and practicing. Those three over and over again. I tried to not think about her and lose sleep because of her. An athlete’s wellbeing is connected to quality sleep.

But she was everywhere I went. Pieces of her were scattered all over the places I avoided, and it was my fault really, for bringing her to places we usually hid. For hoping that someday, the secrets we hid would be our stories to tell. Now I just let her memories rot inside my heart, where she should be.

I thought it would be easier when you just let it slip by but the more days that passed without seeing her, the more I feel a gnawing pain in my heart. She had sucked all my sunlight and took it all away with her.

I want her back.

=====================================

My Answer is You

Eleven days. It took me nine days to realize running away was a bad idea.

When I first got off the bus, I thought the place looked familiar. Turns out, I rode the bus to my hometown, to the very south and the last bus stop until it turned around to go back to the city.

When I appeared in front of my mom–the first time in a long time–she had immediately said, “Did something in the city?”

The moment she asked, I broke down in tears. She shushed and consoled me while I cried like a little kid. Like the way I had bawled to her when my first boyfriend broke up with me, or when my love birds died from illness, the other from loneliness.

It feels like I would die of loneliness, Mom. I had said.

Did he really say that? Did he tell you that it’s over? She cooed.

I was embarrassed to admit to my mom that no, Shohei had never told me anything because I had shut him out even before I could give him the chance. But what if that call was already the end of it all? What if answering his call meant exactly what I had thought. That would shatter me more.

So, no, Mom, you can call your daughter a coward but in her heart, it’s all over.

The next forty-eight hours at home was a blur. After feeding me with what feels like a day’s worth of homemade dishes, she made me wash the dishes, clean my old room, and the living room as well. And when that wasn’t enough, she made me go with her to the night market and bought whatever seafood she could find to feed me.

Is this what you did when Dad left? I wanted to ask her. Did you go around acting as normal while nursing a wounded heart? Did you go all through that facade just to show me that you were strong for the both of us?

She had her back to me, her hands pale and creased with age, showing signs of passage of time and her hardwork to put me to school. I know she was trying to make me busy to keep my mind off of Shohei. I’m not sure if she fully understands the scandal but she was trying her best to keep my head above the water. Probably just like how she always did.

I wish I was strong like you, Mom.

On the fourth and fifth day, she had let me work under the sun harvesting corn. Which I absolutely despised. I had to wear sun hats and these jumpers to cover myself from the heat.

“It’s cheap labor for letting you stay and eat my food,” she said when I complained. “Tomorrow, you’ll help me sell these at the market.”

As the days grew idly by, I’ve grown more accustomed to rising early and eating less meat and more vegetables. I willingly went out of the sun more to do housework, like hanging clothes, watering Mom’s plants, however, I was still not willing to harvest her vegetables, which she made me do a lot. When I say a lot, it means everyday since then.

On the eleventh morning, I woke up earlier than usual and found my mom already awake. She busied herself with a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, mom.” I yawned, grabbing my own mug.

“After breakfast, pack your things and go back to the city.” She said quietly.

“Huh?” I’m not sure I heard her right. Is she kicking me out?

She pushed today’s newspaper into my hands and pointed at an article. An article shows a picture of Shohei smiling at the camera, behind him was a framed candid photo of me turning my head just in time when the camera clicked, I was wearing a sleeveless shirt, a shawl draped over my shoulders, and the wind blowing my hair and covering my face slightly. Just by looking at the photo, it looked like a time when Shohei and I drove to the beach. He had brought his camera and took a lot of photos.

The article said, “Portfolio on Love: Shohei Ohtani’s Photographs Displayed for A Cause.”

“....and when the powerhouse athlete gets a day off, he plays around his camera and takes photos of anything, everywhere. He reveals Insider Today that for the first time ever, he is displaying his portfolio to the public at the Grand City Museum starting today until the 31st of the month, with the theme of “hello, love, are you there?”

“...’I don’t know how else to define love but this. I hope when the public sees this, they will instantly know that my photographs are a reflection of my love,’ he said.

“When asked if this was a confirmation to the rumors flying around recently, he just smiled sadly and said, "I'm hoping that this answers everyone’s questions, especially hers.”

“If your face is plastered on all of the newspapers, it wouldn’t make sense to stay here longer.” Mom said after a while. She had finished her breakfast and took them away to the sink.

“It doesn’t end well if you’re too afraid, my darling.” she said, not looking at me. “To love and to be hurt is to be brave. If it doesn’t work out after facing him, then by all means. Come home. My doors are always open for you. And I will feed you rice cakes while you harvest my corn.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t a hugger but welcomed my hug and patted me on the shoulders. “Now go, before all the chismosas wake up and corners you.”

I packed my bags and left home, my heart pieced back together. It was not wrong to go home and seek shelter. What I did wrong was leaving Shohei all alone when he took most of the fall.

Five hours, one taxi ride, and a ten minute walk later, I arrived at the city museum, nervous, anxious, feeling a little lightheaded and hesitant. I wiped my sweaty palms and got inside.

It was not as packed as I had expected, probably because it was a little over after lunch, though there was still a relatively big crowd overall.

When I stepped into the hall featuring Shohei’s displays, I felt a surge of emotion. It was a collection of all the photographs of his loved ones. In a black and white collection, he had photographed his parents holding hands while walking in the snow, a photo of his dog sleeping idly on his couch, a photo of the football stadium in a wide angle shot, showing Ippei and the rest of his teammates playing a warm up game before practice.

When I turned to a corner, that’s when I saw it. There were multiple frames hanging intricately on one side, showing all of the photos he took of me. One during university days, where I was showing him a strangely large eggplant during our photo walks at the market. There was another with me looking at him angrily for reasons I couldn’t remember, and a more recent one, in the middle, where he was holding my hand while I walked forward, back facing the camera.

On the metal plate below were words that read in cursive: “2009–present. Moments of love that I hold dear.”

At that moment, tears had started rolling down my cheek and I couldn’t help but sob. The onlookers nearby started moving away, probably weirded out by the sudden burst of emotion over some piece of art.

They weren’t just pieces of art. These were moments when Shohei and I were together and maybe realized that it was love.

By then, someone on my left offered a handkerchief and I gingerly took it, wiping my tears-strewn face. I muttered an apology for ruining the fabric.

“This is not the first time someone cried in front of my photographs. Some were absolutely heartbroken after seeing them.” a man’s voice said. And that reeled me back as I turned around and saw Shohei standing in front me.

“I knew this would lure you back,” he said, smiling.

His face was a little gaunt and tired. He had dark circles around his eyes that I’ve never seen before. I could only look at him and he looked back. I had so many things I wanted to say to him, so many things I wanted to explain but he spoke first and said:

“Did you get a tan?” he started, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I was harvesting corn!” I said, covering my face with both hands. I didn’t even have the time to put on makeup or a swab of lipstick and that’s the first thing he notices.

He took my hands and held them tightly against his chest. “No one looks this beautiful even after harvesting corn.”

“Shut up,” I said looking away.

He tipped my chin and held my face. “Let’s start again, shall we?”

I raised an eyebrow in question.

“Hi, my name is Shohei Ohtani. I’m an athlete and an amateur photographer sometimes. I’ve been in love with the girl in the photographs since forever.”

I managed a smile and laced my hands around his neck. “Hi, I’m a ceramics maker and sometimes, a farmer, you should see the corn I harvest. You look so familiar. I think you look like my future boyfriend.”

His eyes perked up and laughed at our silly little game. He went in for a kiss and I obliged, feeling safe and brave in his arms.

Let them take the damn photographs and write the articles all they want, but they could never take my sunshine away ever again.

#shohei ohtani au #shohei ohtani imagines #shohei ohtani #shohei ohtani pov #shohei ohtani fluff #shohei ohtani smut

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babyleostuff · 1 year

Text

BOYFRIEND PHOTOS | KIM MINGYU

summary | a sunny date spend with your precious boyfriend

genre | fluff

word count | 974

pairing | mingyu x gn!reader

author’s note | purely inspired by gyu’s recent instagram posts. thank you for giving us the fluffiest boyfriend pics <3

“I’m here.”

Usually you couldn’t imagine grinning so hard over such a simple text, but coming from your precious boyfriend changed the perspective completely. Finally, after all the comeback stress and months of hard work he and his bandmates had to go through, he was allowed a day off.

You checked your outfit for the last time, feeling all giddy of the mere thought of this perfect sunny day you’d spend with Mingyu. Carefully running down the steps, you walked out to the street, almost bumping into the man before you.

“Mingyu!” you happily exclaimed, almost tackling him to the ground with a big hug.

Without saying a word, he chuckled and put his arms around you. It has been so long since you had a moment for yourselves that you’d forgotten how good it is to just simply hug him. No matter how long you’d been together nothing would top the feeling of just being in his strong arms.

“I missed you,” he said quietly, and you could bet a lot of money that he was slightly pouting too.

You pulled back to finally get a good look at his handsome face, adorned by the sunlight, making his honeyskin look even more beautiful.

“I’m so happy right now, you have now idea. I swear I don’t remember the last time I was so excited to go out. And it’s like the universe knew, I mean look at the weather, it's perfect,” he said excitedly, slurring his words which made his lisp come out a bit.

He gave you a big smile, showing his fangs that you adored so much. As you put your hands on his cheeks you asked:

“Kim Mingyu, are you going to kiss me or do I have to wait another month?” you didn’t even get to finish the question properly as he leaned down to seal your mouths in the most delicate kiss known to humankind.

His lips were soft, like pillows against your own, and oh how you’ve missed this. You could feel the tickle of his breath beneath your nose, while his fingers were carding through your hair.

You parted for a second to catch your breaths, but impatient as always Minguy went back in, this time kissing you with a little more force, as he also was dying to feel your touch again. Warmth and the smell of his cologne consumed you. With the butterflies dancing in your stomach, it was almost overwhelming how content you felt.

With a last peck he took your hand in his and pulled lightly to finally get you going, before both of you gave up on an outside date and went back to your place.

“So, where are you taking me today?”

“I found this cute cafe nearby and it looks like a good place to take some photos too.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“What?” he asked, with a slight concerne in his voice. You giggled at him and put your hand around his arm.

“I know where this is going, you’re just going to use me to take pictures for your Instagram! And what do I gain from this, hm?” you said in a jokingly offensive tone.

“Thousands of other people simping for my boyfriend, excuse me very much. I’ve had enough after scrolling through tens of tik toks saying how hot your “darumdarimda” is.” Now even he could contain his laugh.

After a couple minutes of walking and catching up on what you’ve missed, you hit your destination, and Mingyu was right - this was the cutest cafe you’ve seen in a while, situated in the best place to give you a bit of privacy.

“Here, here! Take a picture,” Mingyu suddenly said. He ran up the colorful stairs, and before you could take a single normal photo, he started doing some weird and funny poses. Not questioning your boyfriend’s antics, you took a couple of photos.

“My phone storage is crying right now. You have no idea how many of your stupid ass photos I have in my camera roll.”

“Do I get at least one day of freedom where people don’t bully me?” he whined. “Also, my own girlfriend? That really hurt,” he frowned while walking down the stairs.

“Also, why are you wearing your sunglasses like that?”

“Like what? Are you going to criticize this too?” Mingyu frowned even more. You would never fathom how this 6’2 man could act like a little child sometimes.

Before he could argue further, you snapped a quick photo, smiling to yourself.

“Cry about it big boy. At least I have stuff to blackmail you with,” you said and went to look for a free table to sit at.

“You hang out too much with the boys, I swear,” he said and pulled the chair back for you. After settling comfortably, you ordered some coffee and lunch and fell back to the conversation from before.

You could feel your heart race, because of how content, happy and loved you felt.

Looking at Mingyu, who was dramatically telling a story from one of their dance practices, where Wonwoo did a step wrong so Soonyoung threw a tantrum, you couldn’t contain your giggles, laughing at how overdramatic your boyfriend was acting.

“Why are you looking at me like that, hm? You don’t want to take photos of me? No problem, going to do it myself,” and he did as he said, starting to take some selfies from different angles.

“Oh stop it, you know I was joking. Here, let me,” you pointed your camera at Mingyu.

You both knew how much you loved taking pictures of each other, saving them as memories you’d have fun reminiscing on later in the future.

You spend the rest of the day in the same atmosphere, bickering, talking and laughing, but most importantly - being in love.

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nalaniisthebest · 6 months

Note

hiiii!!!

if ur still taking request for jack harlow, here’s one

y/n and jack are co stars on white men cant jump and they’re in s secret relationship. they’re at the premiere and one of the interviewers ask if y/n and jack are a thing because they’re always flirting.

heyy guys! i know it’s been a good five months since i’ve posted and im so sorryyy i completely forgot about this, i found this in the drafts and decided to finish it for yall. idk if i’m going to the bachelor series i started, but instead of worrying about that, enjoy what i wrote a few months back for yall. i love y’all so much and hope y’all have been doing good❤️❤️

no smut just fluff

“what was your reaction when you found out you got the role in this movie?” the interviewer asked, pushing the microphone my way. “umm, we’ll i grew up watching this movie all the time with my dad. he always showed me all these funny old school movies growing up. so when i got the call that i got the part, i was actually with my dad! he was so happy and proud and it was just a moment i’ll never forget.” i explained smiling, just thinking of the memory.

“so is that what really made you want to do this movie?” the interviewer asked, making me nod my head. “yeah. that an—“ i was quickly interrupted by a pair of hands harshly grab my waist. i quickly spin around seeing the tall curly brown haired man behind me, dying laughing making me roll my eyes. “ i got you didn’t i?” he asked laughing as i pushed him. “shut up.” i mumbled. “y’all got that, right?” jack asked the camera man.

“you should’ve seen your face, y/n.” the interviewer laughed. “yeah well, he thinks it’s so cute to scare people.” i started taking the microphone from the woman’s hand. i turn my whole body towards jack as i spoke into the mircophone. “it’s gonna be cuter when i punch you in that pretty face of yours cause you scared me so bad.” i finished “what you gotta say about that?” i asked pushing the mircophone in his direction.

“ i don’t know..” jack said confused, sucking his teeth. “ i think somebody mad cause i successfully scared her. that’s what i’m hearing.” he shrugged his shoulders, sucking in his top and bottom lip to form a perfect straight line with his lips. “i was literally in the middle of answering question, and you came behind and scared me.” i said defensively. “or maybe, you’re just mad cause you fall for it every time.” jack said confidently. as i opened my mouth to say something, nothing came out.

i rolled my eyes and gave the interviewer back her microphone as jack laughed with his finger pointed at me. “hush modeee.” he bragged laughing. “this is what it’s like working with jack harlow, by the way.” i said in the mircophone, still pointing at him. “it’s like working with a 5 year old.” i added as he calmed down, the interviewer laughed at my joke before continuing with the question she asked me earlier.

“i’m sorry, what was i saying? i completely forgot, because of somebody.” i pointed at jack, looking up at him. i noticed the way his baby blues sparkled while piercing my whole body, still. the way a soft smile crept in corner of his mouth, while his messy curls lightly blew from my wind. i felt my core start to arch for the man beside me while his hand creep on my back, dangerously low resting a couples inch’s above my ass.

“y/n?” the lady asked, grabbing my attention. “i’m sorry? i wasn’t listening, what were you saying?” i said, giving her my undivided attention. i watch her look at me then at jack before smiling again. “i was telling you that you left off answering what made you want to be apart of this movie?” she asked as i nodded.

“right! i said because it means a lot to my dad. honestly another reason is jack harlow. he’s just suck a handsome man, why wouldn’t you not want to work with him? look at him.” i heard a soft laugh leave the ladies, indicating that she thought it was a joke. it wasn’t. i was being serious. once jack told me he was going to be in the movie, i wanted to work on something with him. so did i.

“what do you have to say about that, jack?” she asked as i looked up at jack, exactly how he was looking at me earlier. “i-im uh, flattered r-really.” jack stuttered with his eyes still on mine. “ y/n is the best scene partner ever.” jack said, breaking eye contact. “so that’s all you like me for, is just making scenes?” i asked jokingly defended.

“you know what i mean, don’t do that.” he smiled looking down at me. i couldn’t help but not to warm myself around him. his arm embrace, making me feel at home. i couldn’t help my smile from leaving my face as jack warmed his arms around my back, leaving a soft kiss ontop of my head. “all jokes aside, this is my girl. sweetest person i’ve ever met. i love this girl so much!” he said not letting go of me. the interviewer pout before awwing us.

i rested my head against jacks chest as he wrapped his arms around me, embracing me in a hug. “so another the internet as for the two of you, are you guys dating? i mean me and the internet can tell there’s some type of tension between.” jack and looked at eachother before laughing our asses off at the interviewers question. “jack and i are not a thing.” i admitted while still laughing.

“yeah, she’s like my best friend.” jack also replied. i released myself from our hug, but kept one arm wrapped around jacks waist as he cropied my movements. “okay.” she said defensively, after she shot her hands up. “just checking, you know i love the drama.” she laughed. “i mean don’t get me wrong, he’s a very attractive man. but we’re just friends.” i smiled.

“well thank you so much for answering the question y/n! both of you look so amazing tonight and i can’t wait to watch the movie!” she smiled for the last time. we said our goodbyes and walked off, leaving that interview in the back of our minds.

“you really do looking stunning, baby.” jack whispered in my ear as i looked up at him with our arms still at eachothers waists. “oh, i know.” i smiled.

#jack harlow #imagines #jack harlow smut #jack

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feyhunter78 · 5 months

Text

Chapter Five - You find Miguel's sister-in-law on Instagram, and Miguel asks you for help with his phone. Ch 6

You trail your fingers over the hand shaped bruises on your thighs, gently, not wanting to press into skin and further irritate the broken blood vessels, as you scroll through your phone. The bathwater around you is still warm, lavender scented bubbles covering the surface, a glass of wine on the flat edge of the tub.

You’ve been trying to find something, anything on Miguel’s family, and finally you’ve done it. An Instagram page pops up, @MinaQMorris, a stunning woman with long wavy red hair and dazzling hazel eyes. The first picture that comes up has her in an elegant, slinky black gown, her arm wrapped around the biceps of a taller man with tan skin and dark eyes, the caption reads: Another successful charity event with my love @GabrielOHara, make sure to sign up for our blood drive next month! Link in my bio!

It’s clear he’s Miguel’s brother, the resemblance is uncanny. Sure, Gabriel is a little skinner, and not as tall as Miguel, but they have the same smile, the same piercing brown eyes.

You shiver at the idea of a blood drive, you hate giving blood, the needles, the sight of it leaving your body, it’s painful and always makes you anxious.

You go to Mina’s tagged photos, finding Miguel’s Instagram quite easily. He has six photos, and it looks like either she or Gabriel forced him to post them. You laugh, it’s so like Miguel, you swear he’s technologically inept, he’s always asking you for help with his phone or his laptop. The only technology he does understand is in the morgue, and you wonder why he finds the morgue equipment so easy but his cell phone confusing.

A notification pops up at the top of your screen, and your eyes flicker up.

Miguel: Y/N, can you help me with my phone tomorrow?

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, as they say. You laugh and shoot back a quick response before continuing to stalk Miguel’s page.

Y/N: Sure, what’s wrong with it?

Miguel: Not sure, the sound stopped working.

You roll your eyes. He probably forgot to update the software again.

Y/N: I’ll look at it in the morning.

Miguel sends back a thank you, then the conversation falls silent, and you put your phone on the counter, closing your eyes and relaxing in the warm water.

The next day, you find Miguel waiting outside your office, phone in hand.

He has the latest phone, a sleek but clearly protective dark blue case on it. The lockscreen is a landscape with a gothic-looking manor in the background, and five or six people standing in the foreground with their backs to the camera. You never pegged him as a dark academia guy, but everyone has their thing.

“Okay, let me see it.” You say, taking a seat at your desk. Your office is cozy, covered with plants and brightly colored decorations, you're surrounded by death all day, you figured you might as well celebrate life in your own office.

He opens it and unlocks it before handing it to you and taking a seat in the plush rolling chair. Smiling up at you is Miguel, Gabriel, and Mina, they’re all dressed in dark colors, their outfits ostentatious and clearly expensive, glasses of crimson wine in their hands.

“Did you guys take this on Halloween?” You ask, motioning to the photo.

“Yeah, it’s Mina’s birthday, so her family throws a huge party every year.”

“That’s cool, now okay, did you check for updates?” You ask, going into the settings.

“Yes, and I made sure it was fully charged.” Miguel says, looking like a kicked puppy, as he pulls a rolling chair next to you.

You scroll through his settings, until you come to audio. It’s connected to his earbuds.

“Found the issue, it’s still in Bluetooth mode.” You tell him, swiftly disconnecting it and turning to hand the phone back to Miguel.

A woman’s voice comes through the speakers, and you all but throw Miguel’s phone at him. “Fuck, Miguel, oh baby, please, I need your big fat cock inside me—”

He scrambles to turn down the volume. “Shit, I—that was just a friend of mine, she—”

You hold up a hand, wanting to crawl out of your skin from embarrassment and strangely…jealousy? For a brief second you wanted to be that woman, be begging Miguel to fuck you, to feel him deep inside you, his chest pressed to yours, his lips against your ear whispering sinfully things that make your toes curl. “No, no, no need, what you do in your free time is none of my business.”

Miguel is stiff, curled inward, seemingly just as embarrassed as you. “No, no, y/n, I mean it, she’s nobody.”

You laugh, not at him, to break the tension, but the sound falls flat, and you wave your hand dismissively. “Miguel, seriously, it’s no big deal. Yeah, I’d be a little embarrassed if I knew my boyfriend’s coworker heard me moaning about how much I wanted him but, really, it’s fine, it was an accident.”

There’s a shift in him, his eyes darken for a fleeting moment, and he leans closer, his phone face down on your desk. He towers over you even while you’re both sitting, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“You moan like that for him?” His words are so quiet you barely hear them.

“What?” You blink at him, stunned, frozen.

Miguel’s voice is still quiet, a slight purr to it that sends goosebumps scattering across your skin. “Lo dudo. ¿Cómo podrías hacerlo cuando te deja tan necesitada? No princesa, solo me cantas así.” Trsl: I doubt it. How could you when he leaves you so needy? No princess, you only sing like that for me.

“I don’t speak Spanish.” Is all you can manage to say, a throbbing starting in your core at the way he watches you, the curl of his tongue around the accented words.

He blinks at you, slowly, like a cat, then pulls back. “You shouldn’t send him voice messages like that, it’s not safe, what happened here is a prime example of that.”

You nod, dumbfounded.

“Thanks for your help.” Miguel says suddenly, standing and leaving your office, seeming completely unfazed.

You can’t help but catch the way he pulls his lab coat closed as he leaves, and you catch a quick glimpse of budging fabric that makes you swallow hard.

How the hell does that fit into anybody? Fuck, who cares, I’ll let him make it fit, he can rearrange my fucking guts if he wants.

You hear Miguel choke, then start coughing as he walks away, his footsteps growing fainter and fainter.

I know Miguel is good with tech, he's scheming don't yell at me in the comments

TL: @obi-mom-kenobi, @poutysprouty, @oharasfilipinawife, @laysmt, @cicithemess, @unabashedcroissanttreefan, @lynxslokley, @thedevax

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #vampire!miguel #vamp!miguel #vampire!au #miguel o'hara x you #morgue miguel #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #vamp!au

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freakazoidfuc · 1 year

Text

Sugar

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: You wandered off without letting anyone know. Joel doesn't like that one bit and decides that he's had enough of your loud mouth.

+18 smut

p.s. don't like this at all but I felt bad for not posting after my last one, so here's this, dunno what it is but hope you like it, might or might not be writing something with tlou2 game Ellie ;)

The days had begun to blend together. You didn’t know if it was Monday or Saturday. You didn’t even keep track of what month it was. All you knew was that it was winter. Living in New York had prepared you for this, while it was cold in Massachusetts, you felt like nothing compared to the winters in Brooklyn.

You remember running around outside of the apartments. Playing with your neighbor's pitbull and scraping your knee because said pitbull kept chasing you around. You remember the sweet laughter that came from your mom when you told her what had happened. Oh your mom, how you miss your sweet mom and her voice, though the sound of her voice is starting to become a fog in your mind.

You lost your mom on outbreak day. You had just turned 17 the day before, September 25, 2003. You remember that last day so vividly. Your mom took that week off because she wanted to spend more time with you. Luckily you had a few days off from school so you were home those days too. It was Thursday and you were sound asleep. In the kitchen was your mom preparing you a birthday breakfast.

She came into your room singing ‘Las Mañanitas’ in the loudest voice she could muster. You woke up abruptly from the noise but once you found out what it was, you started laughing uncontrollably. You covered your face with your hands out of embarrassment, never knowing what to do when someone sang you happy birthday. Your mom was recording you with her big bulky camera.

“Mami stop, I'm too old for this!” You exclaim, your laughter dying down a little as she sits beside you in your messy bed. She leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Happy birthday mi amor”. She picks up a sliced mango from the plate she made you and plops it in your mouth.

“Omg mami, it's so good” Your eyes roll back from the sweetness of the fruit. Mangos have always been your favorite fruit and your mom always makes a dish that has something to do with mangoes on your birthday. Last year it was pancakes with mango hearts on top. Today it was chocolate-covered mangos. “I got them from the little market on the corner of 8th Street. Marta said they just came in, so they're extra fresh just for you!” She says happily, admiring you.

She sighs deeply and suddenly her face turns into one of glum. She grabs the plate from you and places it on your bedside table, she suddenly engulfs you in a tight hug. “My baby’s all grown up” she whispers in your ear.

“Aww mami, it’s okay. You know I'm not leaving you anytime soon. I love you mami, thank you for always giving me what you could, and for never abandoning me even after Dad left, I know that was hard for us but especially for you. I’m so proud. You’re the best mommy ever. Te amo”.

That was the last full conversation you remember having with your mom. It's been 20 years since then. You're now 37 walking down the streets of a gated community. The streets are completely stripped of any life form, that's not a surprise though, it's been like that for the past few years. The wind is slapping your face, causing tears to form in your eyes. There's garbage just scurrying the streets. No noise, just the whistles of the wind and your footsteps. You hadn't gone on a walk like this for a long time, despite everything it's quite peaceful.

You just showered in Bill and Franks’s house, You're shivering from your wet hair, and if your mom was around she would have scolded you for it. You look around at this rural town, the few stores it had, and the empty houses that decorate the streets. It dawns on you that you can't even remember what life was like before the outbreak. Life is just being on the run, killing and surviving. You know nothing else.

You’ve stopped in the middle of the street and closed your eyes. Trying to imagine what you would have been doing now in your life if none of this would've happened. You begin to imagine yourself in Brooklyn, you're married with a baby boy. Your mom is in the living room watching your baby boy, as you cook. Life would've been so great. But you can't help but think, what if it was all supposed to happen like this? What if this was the plan all along?

You’ve always been a firm believer of “things happen for a reason” but with everything that's happened, you've questioned your beliefs. You were raised religiously. Every Sunday you’d go to mass with your mom. And you were taught that God had plans for all of you, that he does everything for a reason, and that he’ll only give you things you can handle. But this? To you, this isn't something you could handle. How could you have worshiped someone that caused such great disaster to humankind?

You just don't know what and who to believe in anymore.

You were so immersed in your thoughts that you didn't hear the footsteps that were approaching. But somehow even so caught up in thought, you still had that sixth sense that drove your mother crazy. Within a second you pulled your gun out of the back of your jeans and pointed at whoever was behind you.

The scene you have painted is quite funny. Your gun pointed straight at Joel Miller. Once your brain has fully registered that it's in fact Joel and not some infected, you lower the gun down and place it in the back of your jeans, a habit you picked up from Joel.

“Jesus Joel! You can’t just sneak up on me like that”. You play the dramatics out so Joel could feel bad for you, or get him to show some emotion.

Since you met Joel like 5 months ago, he’s said very little and shown very little emotion. The only time you've ever seen a sliver of emotion is when he's with Ellie. It’s the only time he ever seems real. You see the way Ellie is starting to warm that grump's heart. But Ellie kind of has that effect on people, especially with those dumb puns she likes to tell you every chance she gets. She’s a good kid, so good that you feel terrible for what she’s gone through, she doesn't deserve all the bad she’s gotten. You don't know how much time you’ll spend with Ellie but you’re gonna try your hardest to give her a bit of normalcy, well as normal as you can in the world you live in.

“What did I tell you about wandering by yourself? If you want to leave, tell me first”. Joel scolds you. Let's just say it's not the first time you've left without a word. He got really upset at you that time. You swore that forehead vein was going to explode. He got all up in your face, saying that you can’t just wander around without him, that he needs to know where you are at all times, blah blah you have to learn to be responsible, more blah and blah about getting yourself killed.

Just to shut him up, you promised you wouldn't do it again, but… well here you are.

“Um, not to do it?” You end it with a questioning tone. He starts nodding his head at you, moving a few steps forward. “Right, and where are we right now y/n?”

His tone is serious and harder than usual.

“Dude, you're acting like I'm a kid, I'm not that much younger than you. I don't have to tell you where I'm going, I can protect myself”. You roll your eyes at him and cross your arms in front of your chest. You see Joel clench his jaw and his eyes moving from one of your eyes to the other.

“Oh trust me, sweetheart, I know you're not a kid” What the hell is that supposed to mean? “But the way you just walk out of the house with not at least letting Ellie know where you're going, is you acting like a fucking kid, is it so hard to do what I fucking tell you?”

You scoff at him, not believing the words that are coming out of his mouth. “Joel be fucking serious for once, will you? Where the fuck am I gonna go? Huh, tell me. There's nowhere to go. I don’t have to tell you where I’m going because frankly there’s nowhere to fucking go! you’re not my fucking dad, okay? So don’t come here yelling at me like I’m some helpless fucking kid”

That was a lot of fucks

At this point you’re yelling at him, you've moved closer to him. You hadn’t realized until you noticed your finger on his chest. You quickly remove it and storm away back into Bill and Frank's house, without letting Joel say anything else. You’ve truly had it. You can't handle Joel treating you like a kid. You're 37 for god's sake. You’d think he would take that into account.

Once you're in the house, you hear the shower running. Ellie, she must still be wondering where you are. You head to the bathroom door and knock softly. “Ellie?”

“Y/n?” Ellie yells from the other side of the door.

“Yeah babe it's me, hey sorry about not telling you I left. I just went on a walk”. On the other side, Ellie’s eyebrows furrow into confusion. “Oh, I hadn't known you left, but thanks for telling me”

“But Joel said-”

Just then you hear his loud footsteps coming up the stairs. “Ellie I’ll be in the room, Let me know if you need anything”. As you walk away you hear the faint okay from Ellie.

You quickly shut the door and stand by the windowsill. You know he’s probably going to come inside to yell at you some more because it seems that’s all he can do. You face the window. Your back to the door. The doorknob jiggles, it's an old house so things get a bit jammed. Joel finally got the door open, he steps and gently shuts the door. Your heart starts to pump faster.

While you didn’t want to admit it, Joel makes you nervous. Not in an “I’m scared, he'll hurt me” kind of way but more because you think he's a hot grump that doesn't know how attractive he is kind of way. Yeah, Joel makes you want to pull out your hair but, you can’t deny that his overprotectiveness over you doesn't make you feel things you shouldn't. Especially because you think Joel just sees you as some kid who doesn't know what to do on their own.

The first time you met Joel a couple of months ago was when he found you and Ellie together in that abandoned apartment where the fireflies had set camp. He was on his own looking for a car battery or something. You were on your way out to meet with the others to start the journey to Boulder, which is where the University of Eastern Colorado is located at. There are doctors there that have claimed to help create a cure with the help of Ellie. You were skeptical at first, but if Marlene believes it, then there has to be some truth to it.

He thought you were infected and tried to kill you, Marlene stepped in and explained to Joel what was going on. She was hurt before Joel came in. One of the fireflies somehow got infected and went crazy on the rest of the members in the complex. She had to fight him off, and while she didn’t get bit, the infected had toppled her into a piece of glass and she was bleeding heavily.

You knew she wasn't going to make it, she was bleeding too much and you had nothing to help her. You felt absolutely useless, just standing there covering Ellie so she wouldn't see what had happened to Marlene. You knew Ellie couldn't handle seeing another loss.

The last thing Marlene muttered was for Joel. She asked him to promise to take you and Ellie to the ruins of Boston and that the fireflies there would provide him with a car so he could take it to wherever he had to go.

While they were talking, you took Joel's look in. He was older, had salt and pepper hair, taller than you, and very broad but soft at the same time. He was very sweaty and dirty, but that weirdly made you think he looked 10 times better. Once he agreed, you knew you were in trouble. You knew that when you developed a crush it wasn’t gonna go away anytime soon. That's exactly what happened.

You remember that one time in the resort when the floor was flooded with water. He jumped in to prove to Ellie that the water was shallow. But all you could seem to notice was the way his shirt clung to his body. You don't know if he caught you, but if he did he didn’t say anything. Moral of the story, your little school girl on Joel never went away and while you hated when he screamed at you, you couldn't ignore the warmth you felt when he got all angry and up in your face.

You feel Joel's eyes on you, burning holes through you. Your breathing starts to get heavy. Joel was quick to notice that, more of the reason why he brought himself closer to you. You felt the heat of his body bouncing to your back. Joel sighed before letting himself talk. “Y/n?”

You won’t give in easily, no. If he wants to apologize you're gonna make him work for it. Joel moves in closer to you, to try to get you to give in. He’s always known. He's caught you sneaking glances at him, your eyes glued to him, but he never acted on it, he also believed it was his delusions getting to him. He hasn't had contact with a girl for a long time. You’re the first person that has been with him for a long period of time. How wasn't he supposed to notice you? Not only that, but he thought you were one of the most beautiful girls he’s seen.

“You don't have to talk to me, I just came here to say sorry. I shouldn't have said all that outside. I was just- um I was..”

You didn't understand why it was so hard for Joel to admit that he cared about you. You know you said you weren't giving in but, you had the urge to say something. “You were just what Joel. I don't need your half-assed apology.”

It's like your words made Joel switch from soft-spoken babble to that hard tone he used before, but now it was different. You weren't sure what made it sound different, you just know that there is something else laced in his tone.

“Turn around, and look at me while you talk to me” His words alone had you turn into pure heat. But you didn't want to obey him. He talks to you like he has power over you. That's not something you're going to take.

“Didn't I tell you to stop telling me what to do Joel?” You turn to face him, the look on his face alone made you want to pull your hair out. His pupils were blown out, his face a little flush probably from the cold outside, and veins popping out everywhere. From his neck to his fists.

What you didn’t expect was for him to grab your face forcefully. So hard that your lips were being squished together. “I’d watch that fucking tone sugar”

Those fucking pet names, why can’t he just say your name like a fucking normal person

“I’ve let it slip before but a pretty girl like you shouldn’t have such a filthy mouth, you listen here. You want to be treated like an adult?” He’s looking at you waiting for a response. There’s no way you can physically move your mouth so you just nod.

“Yeah?” he mocks you.

“So start fucking acting like one, stop with your temper tantrums. Bratty don’t look good on you sweetheart”.

Why is this making you horny?

Suddenly you’re not the loud-mouthed girl, you feel yourself slip into a submissive headspace. You wanna obey and definitely not make him mad, though it is a good look on him.

He starts to feel a bit guilty for yelling at you but that quickly dissipates when he sees your pupils blown out and glazed over. He scoffs and lets go of your face. Your hand comes up to gently rub on where he was gripping you. He didn’t hurt you, just now you miss his touch.

“You like that, don’t you? Like when I yell at you, hm?”

Didnt even have to say anything. You gave yourself away when you brought your body closer to his. You’re looking up at him with glazed doe eyes. Asking for something without actually saying anything.

Joel completely gets rid of any space between you and him. He encloses your jaw with his big hand. Tilts your head to be looking directly at him. He brings his face close to yours, you can feel his breath fan across your face. You try to reach his lips but he pulls away a bit, just enough to make a huff release from your mouth.

“You’re a big girl, right? Use your words and tell me what you want”

“I want you” You mumble, a sudden wave of shyness engulfing you. He raises his eyebrow, in a fake confused face. “Hm? Can’t hear you darlin’, gon have to speak up” His smirk prominent as ever.

You put on your sweetest smile, and the sweetest tone ever for him, “Joel I want you”

And because Joel is well Joel, that’s not enough for him, he made you say it one more time before you couldn’t handle it and pushed yourself and smashed your lips onto his. His hands leave your jaw and immediately roaming and touching what he could, if it’s not him groping your ass, it’s him smoothing his hands across your back.

Knew he was an ass man!

He’s pulling you up by your thighs, now your legs around his waist. Your cunt pressed directly on his hard-on. The friction he created caused a slight whimper to escape you. Which riled him up, You feel him walking towards the bed. He breaks the kiss to throw you on the bed.

“Gonna do what I’ve always wanted to”

Warmth has spread everywhere, and you just hope that that wetness you feel in your panties hasn’t seeped through your jeans, you know Joel wouldn’t let that go.

You get up on your elbows, watching him through hooded eyes. You haven’t done anything but you already feel drunk on him, he makes you feel woozy.

He kneels before you, almost like a lion silently stalking toward its prey. Made your heart go crazy, you can feel your cunt throbbing just at the sight of him. He gently spreads your legs apart so he can get in between them. Placing kisses on your jean-clad legs.

“Gonna take these off alright”

You nod at him, you haven’t said much because you honestly can’t believe this is happening. All those nights you’ve spent with your hand down your pants, palming away your ache with this exact picture in mind, and now it’s actually happening.

He slowly peels your jeans off, admiring your black lace panties.

Thank fuck for that fully stocked victoria secret you stumbled across during a hunt

“Fuck, don’t know how good you look right now. All pretty and perched just waiting for me to have a taste of you”

He’s going too slow, and doesn’t know much you can handle. You just need him to fuck you already. Need to feel him in you. It’s all you want.

“J-Joel c’mon you’re torturing me”

“There’s that mouth, been too quiet” He chuckles, leaving wet kisses on your thighs. He is so close to where you need him. While you wanna make him proud, you are still the same person, submissive or not you gotta throw in a quip.

“Thought my mouth was too filthy for you, didn’t think you liked it?”

He didn’t like that though, instead of a kiss, he bit into your soft skin. Making you whimper and squirm in his grip. He quickly pressed a kiss where he but you.

“Different between being mouthy and bratty. Love your mouth. Could hear you moaning and whimpering for me all day. Jus’ don’t like when you get that bratty attitude”

“Makes me wanna fuck it out of you”

His word has you bucking your hips for a bit of friction. “So do it, Joel, fuck the brattiness out of me”

You yelp when he rips your panties off you. Hey! Those are the only cute ones you had. Immediately pressing his hot mouth to where you wanted him. Because you didn’t expect it, a loud moan comes out of your mouth. Your legs try to close but he grips your thighs apart.

“This what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to eat this pretty little cunt out? Treat you like the filthy brat you are. Hm?”

His words only spur you on, grinding your cunt on his face. “Y-yes Joel, ugmh- feels so good”

He doesn’t stop, lapping his tongue up and down. Sucking your clit like it was candy. “Taste so good sugar, I could stay like this all day”

While it felt good, it wasn’t enough. “Need more Joel, n-not enough please” You whine. Needing something else. His mouth doesn’t stop, but you feel his hand leave your thigh. He brings his fingers to your mouth. You knew just what to do, you took his two fingers and sucked on them. Swirling your tongue around both of them coating his finger with your saliva. He removes his fingers and you don’t miss the way his eyes went heavy when the string of spit connected your mouth to his fingers.

“Such a dirty girl”

His fingers tease your entrance, You clenching around nothing. You know you’re close you just need something else. He slowly inserts both his fingers into you. Letting you stretch around his fingers not moving them.

“Joel need- Mmh, you to move. Porfavor- be nice”

He beings to slip them in and out eventually finishing that toe-curling pace. Your hands gripping onto his hair. His grunts vibrate and make you clench around his fingers. You feel that burning sensation in your tummy.

“That’s it, baby, taking my fingers so well, being such a good girl for me”

His mouth and fingers abusing your cunt. Making you scream his name.

“Joel, gonna c-cum, faster”

He slowed his fingers, making you whine. “Your manners baby, don’t forget em”

Once you muttered please he went ham on you. His tongue circling your clit, his fingers fucking you relentlessly. His other hand released your thigh and palmed your tits under your shirt, pinching your pebbled nipples. The new sensation brings you to your limit.

You feel your tummy tightening. Joel feels you tensing.

“C’mon baby let it go, You’re doing so good. Just hold on a little more for me”

“C-cant Joel!

“He pumps his fingers a few more times and you realize your sweet juices are all over his fingers. Making a sticky mess all over his face. He doesn’t mind, in fact, he’s bringing his fingers to taste you more, not wasting a bit of you.

You’ve splayed yourself on the bed, chest breathing heavily.

Joel licks you a bit more and cleans you up before properly cleaning you up. You squirm. Pulling Joel off you by his hair. “Ah! Joel, still sensitive”

“Sorry sugar, just can’t get enough of ya” He leans in for a kiss and you immediately warm up again.

“If I knew this is what it took to shut your bratty mouth up, would’ve done it a long time ago”.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #Joel x reader #Joel miller smut #tlou #age gap Joel miller

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itsyourstarboy · 1 year

Text

Streamer!Honey Headcanons Pt.4

First Part Next Part

It’s been over a month I’m so sorry 😭😭😭 it’s here now, and there are some things that didn’t make it into this post, but that just means more parts!

—

Guy started showing up on stream more often than he did in chat. Though, to protect his privacy, he wears sunglasses and a face mask.

Every time he seems to have a different set.

A face mask with a smiley face, or maybe it's rainbow colored, or (his favorite) a pizza pattern. Sometimes he wears one that is plain black with a small heart in the middle (honey likes to kiss the heart but not on stream ofc).

As for the glasses, I made this post talking about those ;w;

Every time he buys a new pair Honey has to go in and change out the lenses for darker ones so no one can see his eyes. They are very particular with Guy staying anonymous, they care about his safety more than they care about anything.

And unless he's willing to carry pepper spray and a pocket knife with him while he works, he is not allowed to show his face.

He loves how protective honey is, he thinks it's the cutest damn thing.

—

The first time he showed himself, he and Honey had planned it beforehand. In the middle of their stream, he knocked on the door.

Honey made a big show of faking a dramatic gasp, and saying "whoever could that be??"

They open the door, and Guy steps in like 💃💃

"Oh my god, is that the Guy??"

Guy T-poses, "it is I, The Guy."

Chat lost their shit.

MY BOY ITS HE

GUY REVEAL [NOT CLICKBAIT] *EMOTIONAL*

Oh my 😳😳

HOT DAMN

loOK AT [HONEY'S] SMILE IM FUCKING SWOONING

beautiful beutiful butiful BETTYFUL BOOOOOYYYYYY

WHY HE DANCING LIKE THAT

DAMN HE GOT CAKE

Guy had quite the ego boost after that…

—

Sometimes while sitting next to them on camera he'll slowly start to lower his face mask just so Honey will hold his face "to keep the mask on".

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Honey looks to their right to see Guy eyeing them while slowly lowering the face mask. They roll their eyes and huff, practically throwing their controller onto the desk in front of them. They take Guy's face in their hands, squishing his cheeks, and give him a hard glare.

It goes on for a few seconds, Honey's intense gaze boring through him. They lean a bit closer and their forehead presses against his, never breaking eye contact.

"Stop doing that shit," they say in a low voice that makes Guy's knees feel weak. "Please," they add quietly, and all he can do is nod.

—

The fanart increased, and this time it wasn't weird because people had more of an idea as to what Guy looked like.

Guy still thinks it's adorable, and he has taken to finding ways to share this incredible art with the world in many ways.

He likes to print out the pictures and hang them on the fridge.

He calls the people in chat his children.

Or, at least, he did until they started calling him daddy…

Now they're just his chaos squad.

—

Guy made a second Instagram account to post on without showing his face (as if he ever even posts on his personal acc)

His stories are… interesting

First there's a picture of a grasshopper he found outside with the caption "look at this dood", then you see a really blurry photo with the caption "ASGFKDGFGSJ HALP ITS EVIL".

He posts little videos of Honey 🥺

They're chilling on the couch, their legs draped over Guy's, and he turns the camera towards them with a cat face filter.

Honey makes eye contact with the camera and sticks their tongue out a little bit anD THAT LIL BLEP WITH THE DOODLE CAT EARS AND WHISKERS WAS ENOUGH TO MAKE GUY FALL IN LOVE WITH THEM ALL OVER AGAIN

Before the video cuts off you can hear him make a little gasp and the caption is "I love them"

Fans think this confirms their relationship until they see Honey's story has a video of Guy in the kitchen humming the macarena—and half ass dancing to it—while making pizza rolls with the caption "if there was a zombie apocalypse, he would die first", and it makes them think maybe not…

—

Ever since Guy's debut, he joins chat less often (much to their disappointment), but what Honey doesn't know is that this was all part of an elaborate plan cooked up by none other than their menace of a boyfriend.

He wanted to spoop them. That's a harmless little prank, right?

WRONG

Honey has the most VIOLENT reactions when they get scared, you DO NOT want to be on the receiving end.

But nooooo, Guy just wants to be a little shit.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Honey was playing The Mortuary Assistant. It's one of the few games that actually scares them from time to time, because of how unpredictable it is.

It was quiet, Honey wasn't really talking with chat. They were invested, double checking everything to make sure they were burning the right body.

Chat was basically left unsupervised, like a small child lost in the McDonald's play place.

Why do the feet have jiggle physics

✨realism✨

wouldnt the bodies be stiff tho? rick-a-morris or something?

RICK A MORRIS?!?!??!?

It's rigamortis, sweetheart

Ihatethisgameihatethisgame

EW EW NO GET THAT LIPLESS NO EYELID HAVIN ASS OFF MY SCREEN

WHY IS IT NAKED

Boy out here looking like salad fingers 🥗☝️👅👅

I’d smash ngl

Hi [Honey] <3 hope you're having a good day xoxo

That does not look like salad fingers

🌝✨rUstY💫🌚 💦🦴spOOnS🦠🥄

Baby girl got some mommy issues 😘💝😚

Lmao same 🤣😂😆

R u ok?

No :')

Can't have mommy issues if you never had a mom 😝😝

PLEASE-

Y r u joking abt this?? 😢😢

Where are the therapist people in chat?

Laughter is the best medicine ☺️☺️❤️

There they are

Alright, now everyone say 5 positive things about yourself

What if we don't?

I SAID 🔫🔫🔫 EVERYONE SAY 5 POSITIVE THINGS ABOUT YOURSELF🔫🔫🔫

HoneysHeaven: hello :)

Still no

GUY

MY GUUYY

BABY BOY BABY

HELLO 👋👋👋👋👋

HE HAS RISEN

GUY

PRAISE JUGULAR

HoneysHeaven: shh 🤫

EEEE

shh?

Ooh we be sneaky now

Y shh?

HoneysHeaven: everyone keep [honey] distracted I'm gonna spook them >:)

OOOH OK OK

SHHHHH

Oops

Pranky time 😈😈😈

Spoopy scary skeletons

Go Guy Go

On camera, you can see Guy verrry carefully open the door. He sneaks in, ever so gracefully, only tripping over himself a maximum of two times.

Despite his few hiccups, he managed to get in without Honey noticing (somehow)

Y'know that meme picture of Jason Momoa sneaking up on Henry Cavill? Yeah, that's what it looks like right now.

Honey was in the middle of a sentence when Guy pounced on them.

He wrapped his arms around them from behind and went, "BOO!"

Honey yelped and swung an arm behind them.

They've never had any training, but like… they've got a pretty damn good right hook…

They punched Guy in the face.

He fell to the ground, holding his nose, and laughed out a groan in pain.

JESUS FVCKING CHRIST

NOOOOOOOO

LMFAO 🤣🤣🤣🤣

GUY NO HIS FACE IS BROKEN

I KNEW THIS WAS A BAD IDEA 😭😭😭

Honey immediately realized what they'd done and a hand flew over their mouth. They were kneeling next to Guy within seconds.

They cupped his face, "holy shit, are you okay!? Let me see-"

Guy's glasses had been punched off his face, but since he was on the floor, Chat couldn't see.

He had tears in his eyes though he was laughing and saying he was fine.

Honey felt so fucking bad.

"No, Honey, I'm fine really. You don't have to- no! Oh noo, Honey don't cry!"

They weren't crying, they were just… teary.

A lot just happened all at once. They got scared, and they punched their boyfriend in front of around 200k people, and they're pretty sure his nose is broken. Leave them alone.

Guy pulled off his face mask, revealing his bruised, bloody nose. Yeah. That's broken.

Honey's eyes were full of so much guilt, you'd think they murdered someone's puppy.

They did.

Their puppy.

They said sorry so many times, they sounded like a broken record. They held Guy, with their face buried in the crook of his neck, mumbling apologies, before finally coming to their senses and turning off the stream to take Guy to the hospital.

He wasn't mad at them. Of course he wasn't.

But Honey was mad at themself, because how could they ever hurt Guy like that!?

He insisted it was fine, that he understood it was a reflex, and that he shouldn't have scared them (because he knows they react violently).

Regardless, Honey sucked up to him so much while his nose was healing, let me tell you.

They babied him, they coddled him, they waited on him hand and foot.

Guy hated that they felt so guilty, but he was getting so much love and affection, so…

He wasn't even that badly hurt, these two are just dramatic

—

After that little fiasco, Guy's account now has a special alert to let Honey know that he's in chat (so he doesn't go do something stupid like that again).

At first the sound was a little ding noise, but then Guy changed it.

Now it starts playing the jaws theme.

#i know this wasnt as interesting as the other parts T^T im sorry #these were the things i was able to write down while off my meds #but since im back on them hopefully part five will have some more fun stuff #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted headcanons #redacted honey #redacted guy #redacted pizza guy #redacted streamer!honey #redacted fanfic

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vxiphoid · 1 year

Text

៚ BREAK ALL RULES !!⟢

❨ skateboarding with ruggie ❩ omg an actual fic😧😧!!! oh look its those two best friends that clearly have feelings for each other but wont admit it… KISS ALREADY. i need to start writing for more characters, i love savanaclaw too much😞 ooc ruggie (just to be sure), mentions of injuries, cursing, extremely bad explaining for skateboard tricks goodbye, not proof read, other than that tooth rotting fluff<3

⌜ 1k+ words⌟

♫ take me to the sun - d4vd & who - 웨터 (wetter)

“OH FUCK—“

“ruggie!? ruggie, are you okay?!” the camera immediately dropped as you slid down the ramp to assist your friend, landing in this crooked position with both of you somehow in the frame. ruggie was curled up on the pavement when you knelt down beside him, worry splashed on your face. it wasn't until you were kneeling by him did the faux hurt disappear from his face.

“i think i fell for you.”

then he shot you a cheeky little wink. you stared blankly at the man sprawled in front of you. ruggie had to purse his lips to stop himself from laughing, your expression was priceless. you looked like you'd just been scolded for some sort of transgression—y’know, before you finally realized he was teasing you, which prompted to you start attacking him with everything you could muster. “you absolute asshole! i thought you actually hurt yourself!”

ruggie, on the other hand, balled himself up and protected his head with his arms as he cackled. “ow, fuck— don’t hit me, i’m already injured!” he wheezed between chuckles. your punches got lighter and lighter till they were nothing but little pats on his shoulder and ribs as his contagious laughter effected you. and eventually the two of you collapsed into hysterical giggles, covered in dirt and scratches but happy none the less.

“you done watching that video? it’s your turn, you know!”

ruggie’s voice snapped you back to reality, the video playing from your phone quickly forgotten as quick as it stole your attention. it was supposed to be a simple video of ruggie doing an ollie since he was so adamant about actually having it down this time yet… he turned it into a corny pick up line after brutally falling on his face. you’re totally posting this on magicam.

you placed your phone down besides you, sliding down the small ramp for the umpteenth time tonight. “yeah, yeah, im coming!” ruggie chose the perfect night to practice skateboarding for the moon was at its fullest and the stars were all out, lighting the whole area with twinkling luminescence. it really made things look ethereal, especially in contrast with the street lamps nearby.

ruggie had found this skateboard a month back and there was this run down skatepark near the school so you both decided, hey, why not give some tricks a try. all the bruises and cuts definitely made your teachers and some students concerned but at least you were improving every now and again. it didn’t take long for ruggie to get the hang of it, at least sort of. there was this one trick you saw online that completely peaked your interest and in attempt of trying it, you ended up with a bloody nose. nothing was going to stop you from mastering this trick though, and if that meant getting bruised up more then so be it.

ruggie was squinting at his hand as you approached him, “i think i did actually cut my thumb when i fell, though.”

you rocked back and forth with your hands deep in your (rather, his) puffy jacket like the biggest shit you could be. “unfortunately for you, were all out of hello kitty bandaids.” he snorted at your words, turning around to face you properly. small scratches littered his face along with brightly colored bandages in different shapes and his smile wasnt as bright as his ocean blue eyes. he nudges the board towards your feet, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater before offering his hand. “ready?”

ruggie didnt miss how careful you were taking his hand and the slight squeeze you added when you stepped onto the board. your other hand flew to steady yourself as you put your other foot on the board. you glanced up to see him biting his bottom lip as his eyes trained on your shoes for any sign of unsteadiness or discomfort—like you might topple over if he weren’t looking. his concern brought a faint warmth to your heart as his gaze flickered to meet you, he was being so gentle with you. his hand loosened slightly on yours but you held on tight enough so he couldn’t pull away. “you good?” he asked with furrowed brows as his gaze lingered on your face. “don’t want you fallin’ off—“

“no.” you interrupted, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “i’m ready.”

for extra measurements as ruggie let go of your hand, his fingertips hovered over yours to make sure you weren’t going to fall, his hands quickly missing the warmth.

you started off slowly, gliding across the ground gently. ruggie followed suit closely behind, watching carefully to ensure no accidents happen. the wind blew past your faces, tickling your cheeks as you gradually picked up speed. he watched you smile to yourself, the glint of pride in your eyes.

it was only after you’d kicked off the ramp did he feel it—the familiar tug of your magic. the wind was working with you, your legs lifting off of the floor as you went higher. your back foot going under the board and flipping it back around, letting out a whoop that ruggie was sure he hadn’t heard from you before. his mouth opened wider than ever at your display—the wind was pushing you faster than he’d seen you move before. you seemed to glide across the concrete, never once breaking your stride. though when you landed, albeit a little off balanced, your eyes lit up like you had one the biggest teddy bear from a rigged claw machine. your face was glowing too, almost glowing like it could reflect your joy. your giggle rang through the chilly night air like music to his ears, and as soon as the feeling passed he felt it return tenfold. you were so fucking adorable. “did you see that?!”

ruggie braced himself for impact as you ran towards him with your arms outstretched, jumping and tackling him to the ground in one swift motion. the momentum caused the both of you to tumble onto your backs, your bodies pressed together tightly. his breath knocked from his lungs yet nothing stopped him from laughing along with you.

he pushes you away, scanning your face. “you’re okay, right? no scratches?” he reached up to cup one side of your face, gently wiping away a tear from your eye that rolled down to your nose. you were such an emotional little thing, it was absolutely endearing and god, he loved seeing you like this.

“of course i am! who cares?” you exclaim, knowing by heart that ruggie would catch you if you lost control of the skateboard mid-air. he always did.

your noses were brushing up against each other as you spoke, his eyes flicking down for a moment before darting back up. your lips were inches apart and if his heart was beating loud enough for the both of you to hear, it surely must have been so damn loud, you couldn’t miss the flutter of his breath against your face.

“i do.”

and maybe it was his tone, maybe it was the way he was staring at you in that way he was—so intent and full of emotion. you swallowed the lump in your throat; maybe it had something to do with the way he was gripping both sides of your face. maybe it was the warmness of his hands on either side of yours—you didn’t know and you didn’t particularly care. the urge to press your lips against his became too strong.

but he did. he leaned closer and closed his eyes, and suddenly you could hear the loud beating of your hearts, deafening even, as his lips brushed against yours for mere millimeters, yet your entire body froze in place. his touch was light at first, a feather light kiss that sent shivers down your spine. but before you knew it you had threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss in hopes of convincing yourself that you weren’t dreaming. you weren’t. it felt just as amazing as you dreamed of, warm and comforting as you melted into his embrace while pressing deeper into the kiss with passion.

ruggie pulled back with a breathless laugh, resting his forehead against yours in awe. a grin stretched across his face, his eyes still closed and a dazed look plastered across his features. he could see why everyone always said that love makes fools of us all, because he was absolutely sure he looked like a total buffoon.

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oh-austin · 2 years

Text

happy birthday to you (austin butler)

summary: in which austin and y/n face high tensions with their hectic schedules after filming elvis, but y/n surprises him for his 31st birthday in budapest

ask: Can you do a fluffy imagine for a Priscilla actress x reader? Not smut preferably but maybe a hit of angst with their schedules and him filming dune but they reunite for his bday and it’s fluffy and happy!

authors note / warnings: no warnings!

────── ∘◦❀◦∘

It was almost like your world had been tipped on its axis. Elvis was released and your career just exploded. Your agent seemed to constantly be on the phone and it felt like your schedule was always being jumbled around, new projects popping up like daisies in spring.

Sure, you were excited, you were grateful. This is what you had been dreaming of since you were a little girl. But now that it was here, you realised it wasn’t always going to be starry nights and camera flashes.

You had been working on a new film, one with a star studded cast that made you feel the pressure to work a thousand times harder. You were living and breathing this film.

You had finally been able to fathom the level of dedication that your boyfriend, Austin, had put into his role as Elvis. You would never fully understand how deep he went to give such a performance, but now you were beginning to see the tip of the iceberg.

The two of you were dedicated actors, your work was your life, but it didn’t make anything easy on your relationship. Austin was away in Budapest filming for Dune, flying in between there and Ohio. You were in Italy for your new film, the Tuscan sun has become your new friend whilst Austin was preoccupied with work.

You couldn’t blame him for being absent, you were as well- you were both as much to blame as the other. It was hard to keep a relationship healthy when both parties heads were else where.

You were fighting more. Started with small bickering arguments, then snide comments became direct attacks. You couldn’t help but me upset with him, you knew it was worse because you missed him- didn’t mean it made you any less upset.

Austin’s birthday was coming up, he was turning 31. You were trying your best to get the weekend off to see him, but the chances weren’t looking great. Which only pissed Austin off more.

“I don’t understand why you can’t get two days off” He said to you last night.

“You should understand it better than anyone why I cant!” You scoffed into the phones microphone.

“We haven’t seen each other in almost two months, Y/N. It’s not fair,” He told you.

“Aus, don’t you think I know that?” You asked him, your voice breaking, “I’m trying my best here”

“Sometimes-” He paused, “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,”

That’s when you knew you had to go see him. You weren’t prepared to lose Austin, especially not to something so stupid. So you told you director that you needed the weekend off, that you would work your ass off once you got back- but you needed to go.

That's how you found yourself in Budapest Airport, waiting for your bag to make its way around the carousel. It was relatively busy, one girl had already asked you to take a picture with her- she kindly obliged when you asked her to wait a few hours before posting it anywhere, just in case Austin saw it.

Your taxi driver was kind enough, it was a silent drive apart from small talk about Budapest's windy weather. Austin's manager, James, had left your name at hotel reception so they knew to give you a key to Austin's room.

You couldn't help yourself but roll your eyes when you entered Austin's room, clothes strewn over the floor and his belongings scattered over every surface. You picked up after him, organising his clothes and folding them in his suitcase for him. You knew it wouldn't be long until he was off to Ohio again, it was better to have his bag semi-packed than not.

You left your stuff by the door, not needing to make anymore mess in the room you just tidied. James had told you that Austin would be back around three, it was nearing half past two once you were finished cleaning. You sat on his bed, reading the book you had brought with you- thinking about how it would be when Austin finally got back.

Would he be glad you were here? You hoped so. You allowed your mind to wander into silly places, places that said he would be frustrated that you didn't tell him, or that he wouldn't want to see you after your conversation last night. The tense words you both said to each other weren't kind.

But all of your worries and fears disappeared when the door to the room opened. Austin had his carhart jacket on, a baseball cap covering his head. With his head slumped, he didn't see you straight away- not until he looked up.

He stood in silence and shock, he wasn't sure if he was daydreaming. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the jet lag, both maybe? But in that moment he swore you looked too ethereal to be in front of him.

"Y/N?" He said. You broke out in a grin, you couldn't hold yourself back anymore. You pushed yourself off of the bed and ran over to him, letting him engulf you in his arms. "Baby, what are you doing here?" He didn't pull away from you, just held you tighter.

"Happy birthday baby," You missed the way he felt, he smelt, he held you. Every bad moment the two of you had been through in the last two months melted away as he had you against his chest. "I missed you so much, Aus" You felt him chuckle from underneath your head.

"Baby," He pulled back so he could look at you, putting your head in his hands, "You have no idea how much I missed you," He brought you closer to him and kissed you. Your heart almost broke at the fact you forgot what his lips felt like against yours, but you swore that Austin picked them all up off from the floor. "Thank you so much for coming," He told you.

"Always," You whispered, "I love you so much,"

Austin shook his head with glassy eyes, "I love you so much more," He whispered, "I can promise you that,"

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler one shot #austin butler x reader #austin butler fluff #elvis 2022 #celeste writes fics

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7shadow7wolf7 · 8 months

Text

A HARD WAY

Synopsis - Few years ago you helped Winchester's brothers with a chase and ended up very close to them. Your relationship with Dean was 'will they or won't they' from beginning. You, in contrast with Dean, never were the person to go with the flow. So, when Dean sees an opportunity he takes it and maybe you will just let him.

Pairing - DeanWinchester x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1k

Warnings - cursing, nudity, extortion, smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - This is my first post,so don't expect much. Also English isn't my first language and I'm apologize for mistakes. (I probably will mix British and American expressions).

Any feedback is immensely appreciated !! I am excited to share this with you.

I don't own picture or characters.

When Sam called me about hunt, I was glade. There is no way that I will ever say that at loud, but sometimes I miss things as they were. Helping people and well, Sam and Dean. But that case quickly remembered me why I took a break. Even though we ended up sawing little girl and boy, one life was lost. And I felt the weight of that on my shoulders, so when Sam suggested that I spend some time with them I immediately accepted.

That was three weeks ago. Everything was like before, except it wasn't. While I was at the break I made a whole new life, which I put on hold. My plan was to get back to it. I made that clear three weeks ago, but here I was...

It was my turn to get groceries and after I put them into theirs place I went in my room. The moment I stepped into room I knew somebody was in there. Everything was at the place, just not quite right. And there was only one person who would go through my stuff.

"DEAN!" I screamed as I went to the room next to mine. I opened door without knocking and Dean glanced at me from his bed for a second and then went back to his laptop. "Why the hell did you went through my stuff?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Well, how else am I supposed to find out what you are up to? You are refusing to talk about last year" he said while concentrating on his laptop.

"There's nothing to tell. I was living boring non-supernatural life" I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms as I lined at the door frame.

"Non-supernatural maybe, but boring - no. It looks to me like you had good time" he said still not looking at me.

"What are you talking about?" I said and then I realized. "What did you found?" I took a few steps towards him.

"Oh, you know just pictures" Dean said as he turned laptop so I can see screen.

Moment I looked at the screen I felt like air was knocked out of my chest. One of the boudoir pictures I took a few months ago was on Deans laptop. I couldn't seem to find the words as I looked at picture of me sitting naked on bed with a sheet cowering my private parts. I looked at Dean who had the biggest shit eating grin on his face, that seemed to remind me how to talk. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you looked at this" I said as I tried to took his laptop away "I'm almost naked there!"

"I think you answered your own question" he said as he turn laptop away from me. "Beside that one is were vanilla, only thing I saw there is a little bit of sideboob" he said while doing something on laptop. "You see, this one is really doing it for me" he said showing me the photo of me standing Infront of window with my back turned to the camera, while sheet falled so the shade of my butt was clearly visible.

"Dean you are so dis-"

"This one is in my top three, I mean look at your face here" he interrupted me showing me another picture. "And this one because-"

"What's wrong with you?" I said as I got on the bed with my knees and took his laptop. "Why would you do something like that Dean?" I said as I started to deleted pictures.

"So, who was a lucky guy? I didn't take for a girl who sends nudes" Dean asked as he was leaning on headboard with his arms and leg crossed looking at me.

"I didn't do them for a guy I did them for myself" I said as I deleted last picture.

"I can respect that. I like the tough of being able to look at them 10 years from now" he said.

"Yeah, well you will never see them again" I stud up from bed when I catched that stupid smirk on his face. "You have copys?"

"Of course, I have copys" he waved a USB on a Scooby Doo pendat that I got for him.

"Dean!"

"Oh, c'mon I saw all of that before" he said uncrosing his arms "And well, my-"

"Give me that" I launched at him trying to take USB from him but he sat up, grabed my arms and pushed me onto the bed. "Dean, I need them back! I won't be able to sleep knowing that somebody has them" I said trying to move but he still holded me down.

He looked at my eyes for a few seconds as playfulness in them was replaced by disappointed. "What, you think I would show them to someone?" he asked looking away from me and letting go of my arms.

"Well, no... Actually I don't know you did took them from my laptop-"

"That's diferent, we had a thing for years. I wouldn't betrayed you like that" he said as he got up from bed. "Or maybe I'm wrong and this was onesided" now he was pacing around.

"You aren't wrong" I sat up. "You know that I don't trust, well anybody" that made him stop pacing as he looked at me.

His eyes darkened. "Let's make a deal" he said watching me as I putted my legs down. "You flash me and I will give you USB"

I looked at him for few second thinking that I heard wrong. "What?"

"You heard me. I had enough of you ignoring me. You flash me - and I don't mean 2 seconds but you know, really flash me - and I will give you USB" he took a few steps towards me.

"Don't be a idiot Dean" I said still in shock.

"C’mon, sweetheart. It's time to play by my rules" he said as he got even closer.

We hold eye contact for few seconds. Well, I did daydream about Dean for years, so why the hell not?

"Okay. Tits, right?" his eyes widened.

"Yeah..." he said in shock.

"No touching and you give me pictures back first. Deal?" I said giving him a hand.

He looked at me for a few seconds, still in shock, before he took my hand "Deal".

Part 1

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean × you #supernatural #spn imagine #dean imagine #spn #supernatural imagine #dean winchester imagine

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woobly · 2 years

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ANOTHER CHAPTER . . . 황인탁 !

PAIRING. non idol! intak x gn reader GENRE. fluff, high school au, established relationship au WARNINGS. use of petnames (love) WORD COUNT. 1.1k words

𓂋˚˖ A/N. wrote this a few hours before and after my own graduation lmao i found out intak also graduated a few months ago so i just had to do this one

“I NOW DECLARE YOU, GRADUATES!”

You grabbed the tassel hanging loosely right beside your face and moved it to the left side of your cap. The entire hall was then filled with roaring applause, an acknowledgement of all the hard work you've put into the past few years of high school.

You looked to your right, and within the small space between two other graduating students, you saw that your parents were already smiling and waving towards you. A taller figure standing beside them moved a little closer to them so that they were also in your line of sight.

Your boyfriend Intak had finally arrived to see you graduate, and you were more than ecstatic to see his proud smile.

Once the ceremony ended and all the students and guests had exited the venue, it was time for the photo ops.

On one side, a group of hired photographers were taking the mandatory family pictures at a booth that had previously been set up. Others were either taking pictures with the DSLR cameras their fathers brought with them or with their own cellphones. Those walking around were probably frantically looking for their friends to take pictures with.

After you had your pictures taken with your parents, you asked them to wait for you in their car so that they wouldn't tire themselves out waiting. You then made sure you took photos of you and your friends, holding on to your resolve of not leaving until your camera roll was full of people who got you through the past years of a hell ride and the people you also love. Of course, that included Intak, who also happily volunteered to be your photographer for the day.

All goodbyes and photos said and done, only a couple of people were left in the lobby; you and Intak included.

“Sooo, how does being an alumni feel?” He teased as you both take a seat on the bench just outside the school gates where he used to wait for you.

You sighed in response, relishing in the post-graduation rush. “Honestly, I refuse to believe this is all real. It all feels too .. sudden. Like two weeks ago, I was cramming for exams with everyone else, and now you’re saying I won’t be able to see them again in uniform tomorrow? I know I’ll still see them when we hang out, but things will just be a little different, you know?” Again, you sigh, but this time in slight frustration. You then looked up into his eyes that were apparently already looking at you the entire time. You took one of his hands before you continue. “But really, I’m just glad you’re here. You’re kinda like a reminder that things don’t really have to change,”

“Of course, I’d be here. I wouldn’t miss it for the world—not when I’ve seen how much work you’ve put into that shiny medal of yours,” He noted, pointing towards the somewhat-heavy object hanging around your neck.

“And yet, I missed your graduation,” You pouted, and Intak had to physically stop himself from pinching your cheeks and kissing you right then and there.

“But I didn’t even get to attend it myself, so you really didn’t miss anything,” With the hand that you had been holding, he started rubbing the back of yours gently.

“Still. I think it’s an essential high school experience,”

“If you’re that upset about me missing my own grad, then that’s all I really need,” He giggled, and that familiar warm smile appeared once again. You had seen it a gazillion times before, but it never failed to make you feel all fuzzy and cozy inside.

Then, an idea suddenly crossed your mind, and you didn’t hesitate to jump on it. With your hands still joined, you quickly pulled him back inside the hall, and pushed him to stand right in front of the stairs leading to the stage, but not before checking if the place was empty. You placed your diploma in his hands, your medal around his neck, and your cap on his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching you graduate!”

You jogged towards the front of the stage as you fished your phone from your purse and started recording. You lightly giggled as you noticed your boyfriend’s confusion even through the screen.

“Hwang Intak! Honor Awardee!”

“But I’m not an honor student,”

“Well you are now!”

Intak chuckled and decided to play along with you. He walked up the stairs and to the center of the stage with grace. However, instead of bowing normally like how the others did earlier, he exaggeratedly bowed like a prince, raising his hand up and placing it on his stomach as he leaned forward and moved his foot backwards.

You giggled at his antics and watched as he left the stage and walked towards you with a slight skip in his step, feeling pride and elation swell across your chest.

“Thank you, love. You really didn't have to do that,” He took your free hand and interlocked his fingers in yours. You sigh as you slowly left the ceremony hall.

“It’s not the same, but–”

“Y/N. You’ve done more than enough,”

“No, but you still deserved the opportunity to go up there and be recognized. It’s just a shame I’m the only person here to witness it,”

“It doesn’t matter if the whole world doesn’t recognize my efforts; as long as you do.”

You lightly punched his arm to cover up your flushed face before you took his hand once again and slowly made your way towards the double doors.

“Congrats, Mr. Hwang!” You both turned in the direction of the voice in shock; you could've sworn everyone had already left. “You too, Y/N. Good luck with college and…”

One of your favorite teachers who was a fresh college graduate and a new teacher at your school pointed teasingly at your intertwined hands. You had told her about Intak a few times after she teased you frequently about how “glowing” you always looked; she was definitely rooting for the both of you in a not-so-subtle way.

“Ah, thank you Ms. Lim! We’ll do our best.” After saying your goodbyes, you pulled Intak towards the door with a slouched back as if you were still trying to hide. He could only let you drag him along as he chuckled at your behavior and how things had turned out.

Graduating from high school only comes once in a lifetime. This definitely wasn’t how he imagined his own graduation would go, but he’s more than content with closing this chapter in your lives and moving on to the next with no one else but you.

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 2 years

Note

Can you do a imagine where Jack shows support to his gf who's bisexual for pride month and makes a tiktok where him and urban sing to the reader "Be who you areeee, for your priiiiide!!!" Lmao 💀 happy pride everyone btw! 🌈💖

Be who you are

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Jack Harlow x reader. Reader x roommate/best friend urban

Author note: reader and Jack been dating for about 3 years

Feedback/likes/comments/reblogs encouraged!

DONOT repost my content anywhere. Not Wattpad, AO3, or your tumblr. I will find you

💖🍶🌼💅🏾🌺🦄🌸🐖🧁🎠🩰🪞🍭🦩☁️

One of the worse parts about living with your boyfriend Jack and your friend urban was the fact they were two crazy assholes. They were more two peas in a pod than you and Jack. They always found a way together to annoy you and make you really rethink moving in with them. But you loved them non of the less.

You woke up early in the morning before urban or Jack woke up. You went to the gym for about 30 minutes before you came back to the condo. Jack and urban were now awake. You said a simple hi to them both before going into the kitchen to make a protein shake and breakfast for you all(since you're the only one who can cook).

While you were doing that Jack was scrolling through Instagram. A few pride month post popped up in his dash. Jack looked at the date and noticed what day it was. June 1st.

He smirked to himself knowing what he could do to annoy you today.

Before you and Jack even started dating you told him you were bisexual. He of course never found a problem with that or made it a big deal. It was something minor to him, but he was going to make it a big deal today.

"hey urb."

Urban who was sitting on the other end of the couch looked at Jack. "What?"

"I want you to help me with something."

Jack told urban his plan to which he agreed to. You had no idea what they were both planning simply because you were too busy making your breakfast.

Jack started his recording and walked into the kitchen with urban.

"hi guys. I'm almost do-"

Jack and urban cut you off and began to sing. "Be who you are for you priiiiiide." You looked at them confused.

"don't hiiiiide."

They looked at you, you stood there looking at them both for a quick minute wondering what the fuck just happened.

"happy pride month." Jack said smiling at you. He turned the camera around making sure he and urban was in the shot and you were in the background.

"wow cool." You said unamused. "Love it." You rolled your eyes and went back to doing what you do. Jack laughed and stopped recording.

"did you like our song baby?"

You looked at him with a disgusted look on your face making urban laugh.

"yeah, You two are great allies. Now fuck off"

Jack jaw dropped in shock before he walked out of the kitchen. He knew you loved it though.

-----

Request are closed

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfiction #Jack harlow x you #jack harlow fluff

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haikyuuwaifu · 1 year

Text

Breakeven: The Script

Genre: Drama, Angst

Warnings: Swearing

Masterlist

Her best days will be some of my worst She finally met a man that's gonna put her first While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping 'Cause when a heart breaks no it don't break even, even, no

“Dynamight! Dynamight over here!” A reporter shouted on the screen. Izukue had just finished a gruesome patrol, and he felt his muscles ache all over. Returning home, he made no move to shower, simply settling down on his couch and flipping on the local news. On the screen, Kachan was scowling as a reporter shoved a microphone in his face. “What the fuck do you want?” The blonde grumbled, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check his texts. “We want to know if the rumors are true!” The reporter shouted, shooting the man a sly wink. “There’s tons of rumors dummy, ya gotta be more specific.” He mumbled, mildly distracted by the messages on his phone. “Rumors about you being off the market of course! Fans want to know if someone really did catch the elusive heart of the #2 hero!” Kachan only snorted, rolling his eyes. Izuku could see the slight flush of his rival’s cheeks, as the blonde narrowed his eyes. “What’s it matter to you extra’s if I’m off the market or not?” He huffed, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “Your fans just want to support you and your new found love!” The reporter declared, clutching the microphone to her chest. “It’s no secret, that something has changed about you over the last few months.” She stated. “Your rescue numbers have bumped up faster than any hero in the rankings, and your number of arrests are following quickly behind that.” The blonde man only shrugged, looking around. “I suppose, I’ll let you extra’s in on a little something.” He grinned, looking away from the camera. Izuku watched, curious to see who had finally melted the stone walls of Kachan’s heart. “I’ve got someone, that I want to make proud constantly enough, that I will give everything I have to ensure that the world she lives in is safe.” Katsuki mumbled, eyes going soft as he looked out of the frame. The reporter followed his direction, and smiled softly as the camera panned over to a woman. To Izuku’s shock, that woman was Y/n. Y/n waved at the camera, before making her way over to her boyfriend. Smiling at the reporter, she let out a laugh and a shake of her head. “Don’t let him fool you, he’s just a big softie.” She whispered, winking at the camera. The fans around them erupted in cheer, as the blonde man scowled, blushing into his girlfriends neck. “Let’s get you checked out stinky, and then it’s a race to the sushi place.” Y/n declared, clenching her fist in determination. “Loser is on laundry duty for a week!” Katsuki let out a snort, rolling his eyes as he looked at the reporter. “Jokes on her, I always let her win because I love her.” He whispered, giving the fans a wink and a wave, before following his girlfriend out of the shot. Izuku shut the television off, sitting alone in the silence.

Izuku didn’t know how long he sat there, staring into the darkness of his apartment. He figured it had been a good number of hours, his brain trying to process what he’d seen on the tv. Since the break-up, he spent a lot less time on his socials and a lot more time burying himself in work. He gave his PR team control of his accounts since he couldn’t look through Y/n’s pages anymore. Grabbing his phone, he pulled up his accounts, and started scrolling.

What greeted him first, were pictures from the media, of Y/n and Katsuki out and about. They looked like every other couple in Japan, holding hands and acknowledging the paparazzi. There were a few screenshots from interviews, where Kachan made a comment or another about a special “someone.” Swiping his fingers, Izuku went to Kachan’s pro account and found himself shell-shocked at the amount of pictures he had posted of Y/n. Some of them looked like they were from dates, or even get gatherings with friends. In one of them, it was Y/n and Shinsou hugging each other as Kachan congratulated them on a work award. Izuku wasn’t even aware that Y/n had actual friends. He knew she and Shinsou were in gen-ed together, but he had assumed they’d parted ways when Shinsou transferred to the hero course. The other photo’s Kachan had posted were of the more intimate variety. Photo’s Izuku felt shouldn’t be shared with the public. Didn’t Kachan understand just how dangerous it was to post Y/n so openly. Izuku scoffed, rolling his eyes as he continued scroll through his feed.

Reading through the comments, Izuku was surprised to see that all of Kachan’s fans were nothing but supportive of his new relationship. Out of all the heroes in the top 10, Kachan’s were the most vicious. He’d seen them tear apart strangers that were even hinted at dating the #2 hero. But all he saw, was nothing but support and adoration for the #2 hero and his girlfriend. His fans had even shared posts from her work account, spreading the word about fundraising and charities. Izuku tried clicking on Y/n’s work account, only to see that he still couldn’t access it. He debated making a burner account, but before he could, his phone start ringing; alerting him to a phone call. Letting out a sigh at the sight of Uraraka’s face, Izuku ignored the call and shut his phone off. Unwilling to accept what he’d seen and unsure of what he should do. Surely, he needed to reach out and explain to Kachan, the dangers of exposing Y/n like that; but he found himself falling into a flashback, of one of the worst fights he and Y/n had ever had in the entirety of their long relationship.

*Flashback*

“I’m not embarrassed of you honey, I just wish you’d understand just how dangerous it would be if the public knew you were my girlfriend.” Y/n snorted, as she crossed her arms. “Do you know how it feels, when you’re watching your boyfriend on the television being flaunted and fawned at, at the hero gala he’s never once considered taking you to?” Y/n asked, with an exhausted sigh. “Do you know how it feels, listening to people talk about how you and Uravity would make such a suitable match. When you’re sitting right there, trying in vain to mind your own business.” She questioned, looking up at him. “Probably not, because you’re Deku. The golden child and the golden hero.” She scoffed, looking away from him. “I am the golden hero,” He mumbled, reaching out to try and take her hands. “And that’s why I need you to be safe. Because if something happened to you, it would devastate me.” He mumbled, eyes watering. Y/n only sneered, pulling her hands into her lap. “It’s always the same song and dance with you Izuku, and I’m getting tired of it.” She sighed, looking toward the window. “I am a literal teacher at UA, where I am surrounded by nothing but Heroes and hero hopefuls, and you still treat me like I’m some kind of fragile little idiot.” “You’re not an idiot.” He declared, moving closer to her on the couch. “Sure seems like I am to you, and I’m tired. So fine, you fucking win again; I’m not going to discuss this again.” She sighed, moving to stand. “I’m going to take a shower and go to bed early.” She whispered, making her way to the bedroom. “I’d appreciate it if you slept in the guest bedroom tonight.”

*End Flashback*

Izuku recalled having to spend a week groveling, to get her to forgive him. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Izuku stood from his spot on the couch and made his way to the bedroom. Preparing for another night of restless sleep.

Prev/Next

#breakeven #bnha fanfiction #bnha angst #bnha scenarios #bnha bakugou #bnha #izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x female reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo x female reader #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader

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whatisreggieshortfor · 2 years

Text

Parental Control

Based on the old MTV show. Nan doesn’t like Gary’s girlfriend, so she throws away her dislike for tv- just long enough to prove there’s a better match for him out there.

Huge thank you to @rebelrayne for springing this idea in my head. I couldn’t not do it.

Also tags to @csmicletters, @bypine, @lasswithumor for being awesome 💛

Gary’s nan sat at the table they put her at in the bakery, watching the line get longer and longer as it stretched out the door. The cameraman posted next to her, and the producers instructed her to talk about why she was doing this, “It’s pretty simple, sonny.” She grinned with a playful tenacity, “I know my boy isn’t happy. He isn’t some bloke that likes to argue every day about something as simple as what to eat. Gary wants someone he can have a laugh with, not someone that yells at him to swill his coffee so she can pretend to make out images in it.”

Nan had met Marisol first, the law student, gauging the girl’s habit of analyzing and trying to ask invasive questions that had just enough wording to play off. She wasn’t a fan.

Priya was polite, but so high end. No surprise she was a fashion designer. Nan wasn’t willing to risk Gary thinking he wasn’t good enough because he couldn’t afford to support a lifestyle of so many name brands, even if the girl made her own money.

Hope struck her as too serious. She seemed to have a playful edge, but still far too appropriate, which made sense as a CEO of a toy company, and Nan knew that Gary was too much a lad.

Nan was almost impressed with Chelsea, but with everything Nan said, the girl gasped and nearly shouted something about it belonging a cushion. She thought maybe interiors designers just never left their job at work.

But eventually, Nan finally found the two girls.

Hannah was exactly the type Gary’s Mum would’ve picked. She was sweet as a sugar cookie, smart as a whip, and a little romantic at heart. A novelist to be. Gary’s Mum would’ve adored her.

But Nan was more excited about Matilda- Matty. She had sat down, paper in hand, and before Nan could greet her the first thing out of her mouth was, “This seems like a lot just for someone to buy a pastry.” Nan had been amused, this girl sat in line and filled out the questionnaire because she thought it was the line for the cupcakes? Nan liked her.

Gary knew his nan didn’t like his girlfriend. He wasn’t an idiot. He’d been dating Lottie for less than a handful of months, and Nan was constantly turning into her silent ‘You know better than this’ mode when the blonde would start arguments over petty things, or how she would raise an eyebrow when Lottie went off on her tangents about tarot and tea leaves.

What he didn’t expect was Nan to ignore her mistrust of television people to reach out to a show herself. He wasn’t warned ahead of time, wasn’t even aware it was hinted at, but he turned up to Nan’s house one day to find a camera set up in the living room. “Nan?”

“Gareth!” She called happily as she entered the room, tea tray in hand as she offered a cup to the people working around the camera. Gary couldn’t miss Lottie’s sour expression if he tried. “Bout time you made it here, you bloody knobhead.”

His brow furrowed as he looked around the room, “What’s, uh, what’s this?”

“Hi!” A brunette man popped up beside him, “You must be Gary.”

“Yes?”

“Welcome to the show. I don’t know how familiar you are with it but-“

“What show?”

“Parental Control.” The man answers as if it was obvious, and Gary realized why Lottie looked pissed. He used to watch the show, and Nan had sat in on episodes with him while they heckled bad dates or wondered why the contestant would date someone their parents didn’t like. Gary didn’t realize Nan didn’t like Lottie that much. “Your nan has selected two dates for you today.”

“Nan, ya didn’t-“

“Course I did, boy.” She rolled her eyes, “I told you I don’t think this Lottie girl is good for you.”

“I’m right here, ya geezer.” Lottie curled his fists at her sides, glaring at the older woman.

“Good for you.” Nan scoffed before looking back at her grandson, “Just go on the dates, darling. Worst that can happen is that they don’t pan out. If you stick with Charlotte at the end, I’ll accept it.”

The producers let Gary and Lottie have a few minutes together, on camera, before the first date started, and she spent the whole time yelling and blaming him for the set up.

Nan rolled her eyes as they set up the camera to record the intro, “My name is Evelyn, though my friends call me Evie. I’m Gary’s nan, and I’ve helped raise my boy into the fine young man he’s become. He’s a lad- probably too much of a bloke, but he has a good heart and he’s always helping those who need it. He’s made his fair share of mistakes- probably more than his fair share that daft knob- but there’s only one mistake that still follows him. His girlfriend Lottie.” The producer called a cut, calling her a natural as she rolled her eyes again. Nan didn’t care for any of this, but if this helped Gary find a better fit for him then she was willing to suffer.

“We need to get clips of what you don’t like about Lottie.”

Nan sighed, waiting for their signal to start talking, “Lottie is a beautiful girl, or she would be if she wasn’t perpetually scowling like someone personally slated her or smirking like she won some secret game. She’s a make up artist by day and a wannabe vampire queen by night, not to mention her obsession with the occult. I can’t tell you how many I’ve heard her threaten to curse or hex my boy. It’s time he found his ray of sunshine to bathe in, not a speck of moonlight that sometimes deems him worthy of enjoying the glow.”

They sat Gary down next, in a different room, and the same man from before told him to talk about how his nan felt. “Well, I mean, I knew Nan wasn’t her biggest fan- Lottie can be fairly abrasive. But it’s because she hides behind a wall of sarcasm and sass to protect her insecurities- and she would hate that I shared that, but, mate, I need people to understand that the side people don’t like, it’s not the only side she has.”

The three of them sat on Nan’s pink sofa, the two of them bickering as Gary kind of stared of into the void. Lottie was being disrespectful, but Nan was just as disrespectful back, and Gary was torn on who to defend- if he should even defend either of them anymore.

Gary was antsy. Even if he didn’t like either of these girls, he would probably end up without Lottie. She was definitely not the forgiving type and definitely not okay with what he was doing. But this was for Nan. And Gary would do anything for Nan.

So here he sat, waiting, when the knock on the door echoed and Nan practically shoved Lottie back in her seat when the girl tried to hop up to open it herself. “Hannah! Welcome, come in lovely girl.” Nan smiled, ushering her into the house. But the older woman didn’t miss the way the girl seemed to shrink at Lottie’s glare, “This is my boy, Gary. Gareth, this is Hannah. I chose her because she is just who your mum would pick.”

“Hi, Gary.” He could admit she was pretty, with her long red braid and poise, but he saw her bright smile falter when her eyes flicked to the blonde beside him.

“And this is the witch that has him under her spell.”

“No spell here, you old bitty. Just my natural charms that won him over.” He sighed inwardly. This would be a long day. He pressed a kiss to the blonde’s cheek before following the redhead out the door, and he knew by the way she tensed as he pulled away that she was not pleased he didn’t give her a proper kiss.

The ride to the date location was awkward. The show had put champagne in the limo, but it wasn’t something he cared for. Gary wanted to give Hannah a fair shot, if Nan really thought his mum would’ve liked her then he needed to at least try. But she kept going on and on about how sweet it was that Nan would search for a girl for him, and how it was romantic and reminded her of Prince Charming sending his staff to search for Cinderella.

By the time they got to the location he was just confused. Looking out at the water that lapped the sandy beach, he looked at her, “I didn’t bring my trunks.”

“No trunks needed!“ She grinned, pointing toward where someone stood with two horses. Horses, with no saddles. Oh bloody hell.

It may have been the most painful date he’d been on. He’d ridden horses before, but never bare back. His whole body hurt, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to function properly again, but he still kissed her cheek politely when it concluded.

He did all but collapse back onto Nan’s sofa when they drove him back.

“So how was it?”

Gary found himself rolling his eyes at Lottie’s tone, but he still wanted to appease her, “She doesn’t have your spice, Lotta.”

Nan suppressed a groan at the satisfied smirk that curved those black painted lips. When the knock sounded on the door, she didn’t hesitate to shoot out of her seat with energy she hadn’t had in years, “Matilda!”

A beautiful laugh rang through the room, “I told you, Evelyn, call me Matty!” Gary glance over to see his Nan yanking the girl into a hug, and she was the most beautiful girl Gary had ever seen, especially as she smiled at his Nan.

“And I told you to call me Evie, darling.” Gary’s brows shot up to his hair. Nan never let anyone call her Evie or Nan if they weren’t family or the strictest of best friends. Dicky had even had his privileges revoked and returned a few different times when he’d gotten Gary into trouble.

Matilda’s eyes seemed to flick around the room as they walked over from the door, “Evie, your home is beautiful! I can feel the years of love built into it.” She admired an array of small porcelain figures his Nan had collected over the years, “My gran used to collect these! She left them to me. And I think…yeah, I could complete the collection for you.” Finally those bright green eyes met his bright blue ones, “This must be your boy, yeah? Nice to meet you, Gary. I’m Matty.”

“Matty?” His girlfriend scoffed.

But the girl with black hair and rainbow streaks didn’t miss a beat, or lose her beaming smile, “You can call me Matilda.” It gave Gary the funniest deja vu. The first Lottie had called his Nan Evie instead of Evelyn, she had the same reaction. And he could tell the moment registered to Lottie as she scowled in return. Nan just smirked.

Gary expected another awkward car ride, especially when he was preparing to pretend to enjoy champagne as she picked up the bottle. But then he was trying to keep from snorting as her nose scrunched up.

“You think they’d ask preferences for a day like this.” She laughed lightly, shaking her head with a smile as she put it back, “Good thing I come prepared.” She pulled her bag off her back, and it was the first time Gary had even looked at any part of her that wasn’t her face. Digging into it, she produced two bottles of…beer. Gary had to laugh, “What?” She asked, mirth dancing in her eyes, “Would you have preferred the champagne?”

“No, not at all. Just surprised.” She raised an eyebrow and he grinned at it, “You just strike me as the type of girl that would like the fine things.”

She tossed her head back with a laugh, “The fine things? I work in the rainforest for months at a time. The ‘fine things’ in my life are indoor plumbing, air conditioning, and refrigeration.”

“So you’re a blue collar girl?”

Matty hummed before giving him a smirk, “I’d consider myself more green collar.”

Gary couldn’t help himself. He howled in laughter at the absolutely terrible pun. This girl was something else.

They were dropped off as what looked like a maze, but with some larger open areas and different obstacles to climb on. “What are we gonna do exactly?”

Matilda grinned at him, nodding toward the trunk, which opened to reveal two sets of coveralls and paintball guns.

Gary was nervous as hell. No matter the decision, Lottie was not going to take it quietly. The producers told him to ask each girl to name a reason why he should choose them, and Lottie spoke up first with venom in her voice, “Think carefully, babes. I don’t do second chances.”

Hannah shuffled just a little further away as she spoke, “I just think with a chance you could be my prince. I know we have very different preferences, but I’m willing to learn yours. It could turn into true love.”

Matilda seemed to snort, but she covered it with a hard cough that had Nan looking amused, “I’ll be honest, I was shocked when I realized I was sat down to meet a woman about going on a blind date with her grandson. I just wanted a bloody cupcake. But after meeting Evie- how was I gonna say no? Anyone that she raised was worth a shot. And meeting you, I know I was right.”

Gary took a deep breath, before he sighed, “I have to send one of you home immediately, and I’m sorry, but…Hannah, it was nice to meet you.” The redhead nodded, offering him a hug before heading out the front door. Gary knew this was going to be the rough part. But he knew what he needed to do. What he wanted to do. Who he wanted to choose. “Matty, you are- to be honest my best mate would probably call you the bird version of me, but miles better looking.” Matty laughed, and Gary had to ignore Lottie’s glare to keep talking, “You are just a little too good to really be true. Lottie, I care about you so much. You can make me laugh, but you also spend just as much time arguing with me. You can’t get along with my Nan, and you don’t even try no matter how important you know she is to me.” He glanced at his Nan, but she just nodded. She was going to accept his decision. She had promised him that. “I need to choose this girl, because I need to choose the girl that I think understands me. The girl I might have a future with. So…I’m going to choose Matty.” Nan nearly did a fist pump, but she lost the joy when Lottie’s hand shot out and threw one of her figurines to the floor in a rage. But to their shock, Matty- who had been giving Gary a hug- flew to the floor and caught it.

And Gary knew he made the right choice.

Masterlist

#litg #litg season 2 #litg gary #litg gary x mc #litg lottie #litg hannah #old mtv #mtv parental control

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