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astroboots · 1 year

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Stitches and Claws

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You find yourself in a compromising position on your knees when you help stitch up Miguel's wounds.

Content: Blowjob, riding cock, overstimulation, fangs and claws. Miguel kind of likes his horniness with a little bit of pain? Just a smidge.

Word Count: 3.3k

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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"Miguel, can you please just relax?"

"I am relaxed," comes the sharp reply, as he glares down at you. Jaw so tense, you're surprised his molar teeth hasn't cracked under the pressure.

Your hand comes to his knee, as you spread them wider, and you can feel the plane of his thighs tense underneath your palm.

Yeah, the man is anything but relaxed.

Miguel is still in his suit. Skin covered in dark blue and red. The only part of him not covered in the fancy spandex (and if he heard you call it that he'd be livid, cause it's Unstable Molecule fabric, not spandex) is that scowling face of his and a small patch on the inside of his left thigh. An area the size of your hand that's bare, revealing his tanned skin underneath and a nasty looking injury.

You poise the needle in your hand against the gaping wound. You don't even get the chance to make skin contact with the tip before he's hissing at you like some damned feral cat.

"I haven't even touched you yet. This is going to hurt a hell of a lot more if you keep fighting me."

You probably sound more than a little bit irritated, because this position isn't exactly comfortable. The hardwood floor is digging into your knees, and with hindsight you should've taken the cushion he'd offered you before.

God, up close, that wound look really bad. Four inches in length, red and angry. You're not a doctor. You don't know why the hell you agreed to do this. For all you know you're going to get the wound infected or worse.

"Miggy, I don't know about this, don't you think it's better go to a hospital. What if it gets infected? You'll end up with gangrene and then we'll have to amputate it and then what?"

"That's not going to happen. It's a tiny cut."

"Fine, but I'm not a medical professional and I'm probably gonna make it scar to shit."

"So it'll scar. It'll be your permanent mark on me."

"I'm worried I'm going to mess this up".

"No", he says, shaking his head. "I trust you."

Your cheeks warm at the words, barely able to look him in the eyes after he's said it.

Fuck, he'd have to go and pull that card didn't he?

With a big sigh and bigger reluctance, you dip your head down as you pierce the needle through the skin, threading it across. There's a muffled pained noise from above. The leather of your armchair squeaks as he grips it tight.

A sympathetic ache tugs in your chest at his pain and your hand still against his thigh. "Do I need to stop?"

"No, keep going," he bites out through gritted teeth.

From the corner of your eyes, you catch a glimpse of the pointed edges of his corner teeth protruding against his bottom lip. It's hard to keep your hands still when your fingertips tingle at the sight of them.

Jesus, you need to get your head out of the gutter. This is hardly the time. You persevere, dipping back down for a better view, so you can sew up the gaping wound as best as you can, ignoring the warmth of his firm thighs that are caging you in at your sides.

You try to pretend you don't hear the strained noises he's making. (Noises that are much too similar to the ones he makes when he's the one between your thighs). Practically bury your head into his thigh so you can no longer see the way his broad chest heaves or how he bites down hard on his lip when you make another stitch.

"Stop, stop!" he demands.

His hand grips down hard on your shoulder, pressing you backwards, but you ignore it, because the needle is already halfway through his skin, and for a man who is constantly battling supervillains on skyscrapers with jetpacks and regularly crashes into skyscrapers, he can be such a baby sometimes.

"Miguel, stop, I need to--"

"Enough!" He growls, his hand pushes more insistently, determined to pry you off him until your ass lands on the hardwood floor behind you.

"Let me do it myself."

Let him? Let him?! As if you had forced him to make you do this? This asshole. Swear to god! He's the one who came home in this state, plonked his dumptruck ass in your chair and asked you to help him. He's the one who sweet-talked you with his: "I trust you," when you had soundly suggested he go to the hospital.

He's always like this. Running hot then cold. Asking you to help, then pushing you away in the next second. It's a miracle you don't have permanent neck injuries with the metaphorical whiplashes he keeps giving you.

You drag your eyes upwards, the way he's hunched on himself in your chair, covering his thigh. His face is turned to the side away from you.

You don't know why he's being so unhelpful about this.

Stitching up your superhero boyfriend with a $10 Amazon sewing kit isn't your idea of a perfect Saturday night. But now that you've started you need to finish up with the stitches, you can't just leave it as it is.

"I'm sorry that I went too rough. If I hurt you, I can go slower, okay?"

He doesn't answer you, just drags one large hand over his face. It's only then that you notice that his ears and bits of his cheeks are flushed a darker shade of red than the tanned tone of his hand.

"That's not the problem I'm having," he mutters.

"Well then, can you tell me what the problem is?"

No answer.

Leaning forward, you place your hand back on his knee. That finally seems to get his attention and he removes his hand.

"You said you trusted me right? So let me know what's wrong so I can take care of you. Please?"

For all his obstinate stubbornness, Miguel is just as susceptible as you are to that card. He groans dramatically, collapsing back into the chair with a defeated expression on his face.

His legs shift in the chair, spreading outwards. The arm draped across his lap falls away, and the tight fit of his supersuit does absolutely nothing to disguise the shape of his cock, hard and heavy under the clinging fabric.

Oh. oh.

Clearly you’re not the only one being affected by the forced proximity of this situation.

"See the problem?" he says.

You look up and his eyes flicker away sheepishly. If you didn't know better, and if it wasn't for the scowl still plastered on his face, you might've mistaken him for being embarrassed. If you didn't know better, you might've made the mistake of calling him cute.

You ache between your thighs at the sight of him. But even though there's nothing more you'd like than leap into his lap and fill that ache with every inch of him, there's other priorities right now.

Crawling forward, you shoulder your way back between his thighs and settle there.

"Let me finish," you insist. "If you let me finish, then I'll help you with your problem."

It's an uneven bargain to say the last. Because the reward you're offering him, is something you want more than your next breath, and you have to bite back the 'ohthankyousweetjesus' on the tip of your tongue, when he gives you a small nod to seal the deal.

Maybe it's your newfound incentive, but this time as you pinch the needle between your fingers to stitch him up, it's a swift and efficient ordeal. You refuse to allow yourself to get distracted, eyes focused on your goal, even as you hear him groan above or shift underneath you. Not until the last stitch is done.

When you finally let yourself tilt your head back up. His eyes are pinned on your face, and you can see now that the familiar brown shade replaced by a red tinge.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and you try to keep your eyes fixed on his, holding the contact as you lean forward. Anticipation rides heavy on your spine, as your mouth inches forward, until your lip press against the thin fabric of his crotch, and you nuzzle against the rigid shape of him.

The leather of your chair creaks, and there's a rip. From this angle your view is a bit obscured, but you catch sight of his hands, the firm unforgiving grip he has on your poor armchair. The extended sharp talons piercing through the soft leather in his excitement.

All you hear from above, is a breathy, "Fuck", then the thin fabric separating him from your mouth disintegrates, the dark blue fabric making way for his tanned skin underneath.

Then he's right there. Bare and naked for you to touch. His cock jutting upright between his thighs. He's ruddy and flushed, the fat tip of him glistening with precome that wells from the slit that you can practically already taste on the tip of your tongue.

Your mouth salivates as you part your lips to take him.

To call Miguel thick is an understatement. It's a struggle to fit him in your mouth, your jaw strain with the effort as you slide him further down. As deep as you can, until the blunt tip nudges against the back of your throat and you have to swallow around him in a panicked fit to suppress the reflexive gag pushing back in you.

It's always the hardest the first time. Your mind and throat instinctively fighting you, as you try to swallow down the intimidating girth of him.

"Take it slow nena," Miguel rasps from somewhere above. His voice is a slow and melted hum that drips sweet and honeyed in your veins, and that helps.

You take a deep inhale from your nose, taking in the familiar musky scent of him, and feel your throat relax around him, accommodating to his thickness.

Your thighs ache with arousal. Panties wet and slick as you clench down around nothing. Everything is tightly wound inside you. Your stomach heavy with the dizzying heat as the weight of him rests so fucking perfectly on your tongue.

It's all you can take. You shove your fumbling fingers between your thighs, tugging at the edge of your panties until the obscene wetness greets you and drag it up against your clit.

Relief and pleasure surges through your head, filling your veins with the sensation and you rock into the palm of your hand seeking for more of your own touch.

"Are you touching yourself?"

Your fingers still at the question. You're not exactly embarrassed, it's not like you're doing anything wrong, but you feel sheepish all the same at being caught.

You pull off his cock, letting it slide between your lips and when you finally look back up, he's staring down at you with a dark hunger in those otherworldly crimson eyes like he wants to eat you whole.

"Fuck, come up here," he directs, but you ignore him. Tongue lapping at the tip, savouring the heady taste of him as you run the flatness of your tongue down the length of him.

"Nena," he bites off impatiently. "Up!"

He doesn't wait for your reply this time. So fucking impatient this man.

He's already lunging forward, arms circling your torso as he pulls you up and into his lap with an impressive ease. His arm comes to your thighs, rearranging you to his liking in his lap, one large hand gripping his cock as he positions you above.

"Sit on my cock, nena. Ride me."

Your eyes flit to the poorly stitched up wound on his thigh that looks flimsy to say the least.

"Won't that hurt you?"

His head tilts, brow arching with that sardonic expression of his as if he doesn't see what the problem is. "And?"

This is such a bad idea. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you wanted to stop now. Instead you settle on a compromise to ensure that you can at least limit the potential damage on him.

"You have to stay still for me, or you'll tear the stitches," you warn.

He nods perfunctorily in agreement and you don't think he's even listening to you. No surprise there, Miguel has never been the best at listening to yours (or anyone's) instructions. He'll do what he wants as he sees fit.

But you can't find it in you to stop. Not when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and the velvety smoothness of it twitch in your grip. Not when you notch the tip of his cock to your slick entrance and can feel yourself dripping down his length.

The only thing you care about is to have him inside you.

You lower yourself onto him, sliding down, inch by maddening inch, as that thickness stretches you to your limits and white hot pleasure invades every one of your cells until you feel drunk on the sensation.

"That's it," he encourages, with a sharp inhale, hand gripping to the sides of your hips. The honed edge of his talons gripping into your flesh, but never breaking the skin.

Your thighs are shaking as you inch down on him until they are pressed flush to his hips, and his cock is kissing that perfect spot deep inside you that has your vision whiten. Thick and sweet.

As promised, he doesn't move. Even though you can tell from the muscle twitching in his jaw, that there's nothing more he wants than to flip you over and thrust into you hard and deep until you're screaming his name with a force that makes your lungs burn out.

You lift your hips, savoring the sweet drag of his cock against your cunt, slow and unhurried until only the blunt tip of him rests inside you and stay there.

"Nena," Miguel says, and the nickname on his tongue sounds like a warning.

He's not a fan of the slow pace you're giving him apparently.

But you've never been one to heed his warnings. Instead you slide down on him, just as slowly, letting his cock fill you at a leisurely pace and it is fucking heaven.

You still as he bottoms up inside you, before you do it all over again. And again. Then again. To each grumpy groan of his that's mixed with pleasure and impatience. Then you do it again.

It's only a matter of time before his short-spanned patience snap. You can practically see it in the furrowed line of his thick brows, as you raise yourself up on his knees. His sharp canines bites down on his bottom lip, breaking the skin and that is all the warning you get before his arms wraps tight around your ribs, knocking the very breath out of your lungs.

Miguel's arms pushes you down flush on his cock, it's strong and demanding. A stubborn grip until he makes sure you've taken all of him to the root. It's blinding you with the force of it, and all you can do as he buries his face, sharp teeth poised at your shoulders, is whine.

Good, it feels so fucking good. The sweet ache of his cock filling every inch of you. You can't think anymore.

You try to raise yourself again on his cock but you wobble, the muscles in your thighs screaming in protest and gives under, unable to lift yourself back up again.

Fuck, you don't know if you can move anymore.

In a split of a second, Miguel straightens up and pulls you into his chest. "So pretty, nena," he groans into your skin, while he ruts up and into you, fucking his cock deeper.

You should probably scold him. Try to stop him somehow, so that he doesn't rip the tenuous stitches on his wound. But you can't bring yourself to open your mouth. Not when it feels this good. Not when aching pleasure is pulling you down under and robbing you of your breath and every word in your vocabulary.

"You feel so fucking good. Stretched so tight around me. Just so fucking pretty when you take my cock."

The sharp edge of his fangs skirts gently across the soft flesh of your throat, and sets every nerve in you alight. Every part of you tingles. From the tip of your fingers to the curl of your toes. That telltale warmth and heat coiling in your stomach and spreads outwards ratcheting up to a fever pitch.

Your orgasm breaks. It rushes over you, hard and punishing. Your body shakes, thighs tensing and your heart is beating hard and fast into a gallop in your chest. You shake and tremble in his lap as it courses through your veins. Lungs squeezed painfully tight as the sweet bliss of it invades your ribs and you struggle to catch your breath.

You still feel it, rushing and pulsing from your stomach down your thighs, it doesn't even have a moment to properly subside.

Miguel doesn't stop. His hands are already on your waist, lifting you up and almost off his still hard cock and you gasp at the shift in pressure inside you. You're clenching down around the fat tip of him reflexively, and there's no time to adjust, no time to think, next thing you know, he lifts his hips while pushing you down on the length of his cock. All in one swift, and harsh, unforgiving motion.

It's so much, too much. You whimper at the next thrust, the whole of your body wracked in shivers as the sensation overfloods your brain. As good as if it feels, you don't know if you can't take much more.

"Keep going, don't stop. I know it's hard nena. I know you're sensitive." he coos, his hands are gentle on your hips, guiding your movements, but for all his sweet cajoling words, and for all that you're struggling he's not easing up.

"Keep going. Keep squeezing my cock like that and I'll fill you up. I'll fill you up with every drop of me."

He keeps encouraging you, as if you have any other choice but to take his demanding thrusts. As if there is anywhere for you to go with how firmly he's holding you to him.

Fuck you can't, you can't-- oh fuck, you're--

Your arms scramble to grab onto something, anything, fingers digging deep into the firm muscles underneath.

It's chaos.

He thrusts up again. Deep and demanding and your brain shortcircuits.

Sharp electricity surges through your spine and it is blinding. All you can do is hold on to him, to claw on and hold for dear life, or you're pretty sure you're gonna fall off the edge of the earth into oblivion if you lose your grip.

Distantly, you hear him hiss in your ear, feel his hips stutter up against yours, cock pulsing inside of you, but you're too far gone to piece it all together.

All you know is that you're coming again or maybe you never stopped and this is that first orgasm still wreaking havoc on your body. Maybe it'll never stop. The sensation feels like a punch to your gut, consuming and all at once. Your eyes must cross behind your head, because your vision goes dark and blank, wiped clean of thoughts. The room seems to tilt, and crash then disappear. There's no weight to your limbs, and your thighs are so numb, you're not even sure they are there anymore. Your body is not your own.

When you come to, you're still perched on his lap. You feel like wrung out and boneless, body spent and broken. His arms wrapped around your torso the only thing that's keeping you upright.

The arms of your leather chair have been scratched up to hell. Long claw marks brandishing each side.

He looks like an absolute mess. Brown curl a deranged mop on the top of his head, sheen of sweat over his tanned skin. But he looks good, messy. Looks fucking beautiful in a way that has your chest squeeze tight when you gaze at him.

Miraculously, the stitches on his thigh has held up somehow and you feel more than a little ounce of pride of your own sewing skills at the feat.

Your hands slide off of him from where they're still gripping on tight onto him and Miguel's eyes follow the motion to his biceps where your nails have broken through skin. The tiny crescent marks looks red and raw and painful.

"Shit, Miggy I'm sorry."

He blinks up at you, eyes a little bit dazed before he breaks out into a smile. He raises his arm and looks at the mark with a pleased and admiring expression one filled with pride.

"I hope it leaves a scar," he says.

Dedication & Credits:

For @thirstworldproblemss who had to listen to me figure this one out, I'm still trying to find my voice for Miguel so sorry if this is a bit clunky for you.

Also dedicated to @guruan whose artwork literally inspires me to write/think/breathe smut 24-7 like a 7-eleven store. It's always open for slut business here. This artpiece with the spread thighs definitely inspired this oneshot.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #marvel #spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse

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remusluvr · 1 year

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all these things that i've done | remus lupin

summary: Remus is drunk, you're the first person he thinks of to call. content: drunk Remus, exes, throwing up (and reader tells Remus to throw up so he can get it out of his system), unedited

"(Y/N)," he draws out, voice high and sing-songy. He's honestly a little surprised you picked up his call. You're a little surprised that you picked up too. It's nearly two in the morning. Anyone in their right mind would have woken up, seen that their ex was calling, and put the phone right back down to go to sleep. You couldn't though not with the achy feeling that formed in your stomach after seeing the caller ID.

"Hi, Remus. Are you alright?" you ask, voice raspy from having been woken up. You hear James nearby calling for Remus and Remus brushing him off so he can find a quieter place to talk to you. "What's going on?"

"We went to a bar. It's the bar that we always used to go to," he breathes, background much quieter now. He must have gotten away. You don't really know what to say. "It made me think of you. James told me not to call."

"You're drunk, Remus," you grumbled, fingers pinching at the bridge of your nose. Of course, he's drunk. That's the only reason why he's calling. "Go back to James and Sirius. Are they trying to leave?"

"No. But I want to leave."

"Are you really calling me for a ride? What the fuck?"

"No, no, no, no, no. I mean, yes. I am calling for a ride but I miss you."

"Call an uber." With that, you hang up the phone. How dare he call you asking for a ride after you haven't spoken to each other in months. You lost half of your friends because of your breakup. Lily and Marlene are the only ones that still talk to you. Every once in a while, you'll get a text from James but nothing important.

And you would think with the way you're fuming at him for thinking he could just call you up and you'd come running, that when his name comes up on your phone again you wouldn't answer it. You do.

"I'm sorry for calling you. Please don't be mad at me," he whispered. You feel bad. He's obviously drunk with no way to get home. You don't want him to take an uber by himself and the bar isn't too far from your house.

"Wait outside, I'll be there in fifteen." He mumbles a thank you before you can hang up on him. You huff under your breath as you take the warm blankets off of you, getting up to locate a pair of pants, shoes, and your car keys.

He's like an excited puppy when you get there, jumping up immediately as you pull in front of where he's sitting with James. James doesn't look as drunk as Remus and you're grateful that one of them had the hindsight to be a little smart. Getting out of the car, Remus is on you, pulling you into a hug so he can rest his cheek on your head, mumbling out a, "Missed you so much."

You try to ignore the pull his words have on your heart but it's only been a few months since you broke up. You haven't exactly moved on from him.

"He drank a lot," James explains, "I tried to get him to call anyone else but he told me that he wanted you to come and get him."

You spin in Remus's hold so he's pressed against your back, face buried in your neck. You're trying to talk to James but you can't focus, not when he starts pressing kisses onto your skin like no time has passed between the two of you seeing each other.

"Don't worry, I'll get him home."

"Noooo, can I sleep on your couch? Please?" James looks at you with a look of pity. You brush it off, reaching back to run a hand through Remus's hair. You say bye to his friends, pulling him into the passenger seat of your car and handing him a water bottle that you had grabbed before you left. "You're so sweet."

You don't say anything, climbing into the driver's seat and starting in the direction of his house. He notices and is quick to whine about wanting to be with you. If it weren't so late maybe you'd have more energy to argue, but you don't so you just start in the direction of your apartment.

"I think about you all the time," he confesses. That's bold coming from the boy who locked you out of his life. He broke up with you so why does he think he has a right to say these things to you. You have to remind yourself that he's drunk so you don't slap him across the face. "I don't think I'll ever get over you, sweetheart."

"Rem, stop talking," you say through clenched teeth. He doesn't know what he's saying and he won't remember it in the morning. Tomorrow, he'll wake up and scurry out before you wake up so that he doesn't have to face you, you're sure of it.

"I never stopped loving you. Was just scared to let you in."

There are tears pricking at your eyes but you won't let yourself cry. You won't. Because if you do then Remus will just try to comfort you and you'll let yourself get your hopes up. You don't say anything the rest of the way home.

He throws up the minute he steps out of your car. You groan, throwing his arm over your shoulder so you can help him into the house and to a proper toilet.

"I'm sorry I called you. Just need you. I hate not having you around."

"We can talk in the morning. Pull the trig and throw up so we can both sleep."

You let him sleep on the floor by your bed after he complained about the couch. Anything to just have him shut up. You don't sleep much, not when you can hear him breathing so close to you. Everything he's said tonight keeps replaying in your head as you stare up at the ceiling. If he really means any of it, he'll be here in the morning and willing to talk to you. If not, you'll block him and finally let go.

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yandereunsolved · 2 months

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🐉Yandere Aegon I — The Conqueror🐉

Harsh to those who defied him and generous to those who bent the knee—that was Aegon Targaryen.

That was the one man you refused to engage with.

A simple passing remark turned into a spiraling obsession that turned the enigmatic ruler into a madman. No one saw his madness except those who dared step in the way of your relationship. Even you yourself were not spared. For neither your low status nor your lack of education swayed him. He craved you like Balerion craved bloodshed.

He is the conqueror, and yet conquering you has been the most difficult challenge through his many moons of rule. And what does a conqueror do when someone refuses to come peacefully? They return the disobedience in unimaginably tortuous ways.

The desperate, hoarse pleas and terrified shrieks from your village people made your heart break. It pulled itself back together for a few moments, only to beat so quickly that you thought it would burst from you. The cause? A black, dreadful beast of a mass your mind can't even fathom is descending upon your village. The same beast that belongs to the man you escaped from.

Yes, returning to your village was idiotic in hindsight, but you had nowhere else to flee.

Surely anywhere you would have gone would have had either the townspeople or greedy, corrupted creatures giving you up to him like a sacrifice to one of the seven.

A part of your mind betrays you and speaks such despicable words. You should have stayed. You should have married him. You should have, you should have, you should have.

The villagers, your villagers, your family, and your friends are all now perishing at his hands.

"Darling, it's good to see you've finally come to your senses. No more of this running away non-sense. I wouldn't want to bruise this handsome little body of yours. After all, that's only for me to do as a show of my devotion to you."

When did you get on his dragon? When did his arms wrap around your waist so tightly that it felt as if his dragon's tail was crushing you? What will happen to your village? What will happen to you?

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

His hot breath was gracing—poisoning the side of your neck all throughout the journey. You were pressed against him in a position that felt oddly intimate. You could sense the anger emanating from his words. The obsession was practically pulsating out of his veins. Yet, relief is all he showed you.

"Don't want to talk?" You could hear the satisfied smirk on his sculpted face without having to peer at it. "Don't worry. You'll be screaming more than enough tonight. Naughty people like you must be punished. It is the decree of the king, after all. And you wouldn't want to go against my word again, would you?"

#yandere #yandere x reader #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #yandere asoiaf #yandere asoiaf x reader #asoiaf x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon the conqueror #aegon i targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon i targaryen x reader #yandere aegon targaryen #yandere aegon targaryen x reader #yandere aegon i #yandere aegon i targaryen x reader

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wileys-russo · 4 months

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grace clinton, “i forgot it gets dark at 6….”, pitch

was struggling to finish this so changed up the location! the best view II g.clinton

"baby come on! you'll love it." your girlfriend begged as you shook your head again, eyes focused on the monitor in front of you. "i need to study and i can promise you i won't." you chuckled with a shake of your head.

"its just a lookout babe, and we can take a little picnic, watch the sunset, very romantic!" the girl bargained as you only hummed, half listening as you scribbled down the key points you'd need to use to bulk up your opening argument.

"grace!" you huffed when she snatched your pen out of your hand, swooping next for your notebook and holding them behind her back making you groan. "we're going, i've decided. think of it as a self care break baby." she announced still with a grin, thick scouser accent always making the corner of your mouth tug up into a small smile.

"you're not going to give me a moment of peace until i agree, are you?" you sighed knowingly as your girlfriend shook her head stubbornly. "well exactly where is this wonderful view then clinton?"

your girlfriend had failed to mention that in order to get to this wonderful view she was so excited to show you, there was a hike nearly entirely uphill which had taken you around an hour to even get near to the top.

"are ya done sulking now?" the girl in question called from a few feet ahead with an amused grin, one you very much so wanted to slap off her face as you stopped with your arms crossed over your chest sending her the most deathly glare you could manage.

"taking that as a no." grace nodded as you strode off past her, ramming your shoulder into hers with a huff as you marched ahead, her chuckles behind you only spurring you to put as much distance between you both as possible.

but in hindsight that was not your smartest move as your girlfriend had to run to catch up with you, and while keeping a cautious eye that you were following the trail she missed the tree root which caught her ankle and sent her hurdling to the ground.

you heard her scream and whipped your head around, eyes widening as you hurried back to her and dropped down to the ground. "what happened!" you asked with a gasp, your girlfriend clutching her ankle with a moan of pain.

"fucking snapped me ankle on that stupid branch! which i wouldn't have had to if you wasn't running away." grace grunted, trying to roll it around and hissing with a wince.

"my fault? this is my fault?" you scoffed in disbelief. "you dragged me on this stupid hike grace, and then you weren't watching where you went and you tripped over! see the common factor babe? you!" you huffed standing to your feet.

"yeah alright alright fine. you're gonna have to carry us baby, i think its broken." grace backed down with a scowl at her ankle as you raised an eyebrow. "lets try to get you up." you spoke softer this time as she nodded, reaching her hands up which you took in your own.

"okay on three? one, two-" you pulled her up and the blonde let out a squeal before her weight collapsed into you and sent the pair of you tumbling back to the ground with a thump.

"you're a head taller than me. this is not going to be easy!" you groaned as you rolled off of her, both of you dusting yourselves off with a sigh. "well we don't have a choice baby, at least its all downhill?" she smiled charmingly as you rolled your eyes.

"okay, but we go at my pace."

"baby..." you inhaled sharply as the girl on your back started to speak once again after you'd banned her from doing so, her running commentary and attempts at conversation as you were struggling to catch your breath.

"have you maybe perhaps thought that-" she started cautiously as you exhaled, shifting her on your back with a grunt. "i'd urge you to think very very carefully about your next words grace, or i will drop you on your ass and leave you here for the wolves." you warned.

"okay first; we don't have wolves here. second; do you think we could maybe go just a little bit faster? the sun is...setting." the girl spoke softly as you stopped for a second, feeling her grip on you tighten as she panicked you would in fact drop her.

"well. whose bright fucking idea was an afternoon sunset hike grace?" you spoke calmly before you kept walking, your legs absolutely burning but you knew with each step you got closer to the bottom where your car was waiting.

"stop with the grace baby, you're hurtin me worse than the ankle." your girlfriend huffed as you rolled your eyes. "and i forgot it gets dark at six..." she trailed off as you hummed, the sky rapidly darkening with each fleeting moment.

"i will hurt you much worse than a rolled ankle if I get lost and trapped here in the dark with my useless one legged girlfriend." you grunted, adjusting her again as your neck twanged.

"harsh, but fair." grace sighed and you sagged a little in relief as finally after a few moments of silence you could see the car. "not a word grace, not a word." you warned hearing her open her mouth to make a comment as it quickly snapped shut again.

"you sit. i'll bring the car around." you lowered her down onto a bench and grabbed the keys from her pocket, though spotting a sign you stopped right in your tracks, squinting as you read it over and over.

"baby what are you-" the girl hobbled over to you, sagging her body into you as she fell silent reading what you had been before, feeling you tense up beside her.

"grace. the park closes at six, the gates are locked at six, it is now six twenty two." you spoke terrifyingly calm, your girlfriend rapidly hopping away from you on one leg with wide eyes as you turned.

"baby now before you speak i want you to remember this sunset hike was just me trying to be romantic, and loving, and kind, and sweet, and-"

"come here clinton i'm gonna snap your other ankle!"

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #grace clinton x reader #grace clinton #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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queenie-official · 2 months

Text

Part One Of Summer Love: ‘Camp Wookiee’

series masterlist celebration event camp logo

pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x fem!reader

word count: 11.4k Next part

in hindsight, you probably should have been listening to what the camp director, Bail; was saying. in your defense no one else was, which you would later find out was because they've all heard the same speech, rules, and warnings a dozen times already.

you were busy scanning over all the faces on the screen- well the ones who had their cameras on anyway. each person you'd seen so far was shockingly attractive, a few people in particular caught your eye. A girl, Padme Amidala. A boy, Ben Kenobi. and lastly the executive director who was simply watching Bail speak to make sure it was done correctly, Qui-Gon Jinn.

the only thing that snapped you out of your admiration was the sound of your phone pinging, thankfully you were muted. glancing at your phone you saw the contact belonging to your best friend Honey and made the instant decision that she was far more important than what was happening on the Zoom call.

so you not so secretly reached for the mouse and clicked the camera button off, relaxing when you knew no one could see you anymore.

'how's the call going?' her first message read, followed by 'anyone cute on the staff 👀' making you snort.

you lean back in your chair while you type back 'i think it may be a requirement to be at least an 8/10 just to get hired’ you watch as three dots appear on the corner of the phone screen.

'well it's a good thing you're absolutely stunning 😚' you read when her message finally sent and you can't help but smile big. you loved this girl, she always knew what to say to make your day brighter even on an already sunny day.

you're about to text back when the Camp Director's words finally get your attention "And i think that's everything you'll need to know! now if you have any questions feel free to message me or Qui-gon Jinn privately. though i would like to remind you all, most of the basic information you need can be found directly on the Camps Website." shit you really should have been paying attention, they were supposed to went over the different roles that would be at the camp more in-depth during this call.

like hell you'd reach out to either of them privately and admit you weren't listening though, you bite your lower lip and slink back into your chair. "We look forward to welcoming you all to Camp Wookiee in person, see you in two weeks" Qui-Gon says right before ending the Zoom call leaving you staring at your computer screen blankly. fuck.

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in the end it was Honey who had helped you calm down from the freak out you had after the Zoom call, and two weeks went by faster than you thought it would.

you still had a day before you had to be at the camp but because of how far you lived you planned on leaving within the next couple of hours.

"i think you need to calm down" Honey says from where she's sat on your bed, she'd been watching you run around her and haphazardly chuck things into your suitcase that you knew you'd need based on the email that was sent out last week on what would be supplied for you at the camp.

"i'm calm" you rush out while running a hand through your hair, pushing down the slight panic you felt in your chest. man you really should have paid attention on that call.

"you're going to be fiiiine, i doubt they'll kick you out of the camp for something as small as not paying attention during a Zoom meeting- that wasn't even mandatory by the way" to her credit she makes some good points, however the zoom meeting was highly encouraged for newcomers and you fall in that category.

“it's not like they're going to quiz you y/n" you let out a groan at her words whilst shoving the last of the items you needed in your suitcase and zipping it up.

"i know, i know- i just don't want to seem irresponsible" you huff while plopping down on the bed next to her. "or embarrass myself because i probably missed a massive amount of information" definitely missed a massive amount of information more like- the call was an hour long…

"whatever they told you in the call they'll definitely go over again at the Camp, we've been over this." Honey reaches over and lightly pinches your arm making you laugh as you pull away. "and before you say 'we don't know that for sure' we do know that for sure because it's supposed to be a staff of forty and only fifteen of you were actually on the call" she raises a pointed brow and you let out a sigh knowing she's right.

"okay, i'll try my best to not panic the whole ride to the camp" you say with a half smile, standing up and stretching. "i should probably leave now if i wanna get there on time tomorrow" you mumble glancing at the time on your phone, 8:30 pm.

"are you sure you don't want me to drive you? i just don't think it's wise to be driving all night and then be exhausted for the actual first day there" she'd already offered at least ten times and you'd already declined what felt like a dozen more.

"i'm sure, worst case i'll be a little sleepy but it's not like i'll be taking care of the campers the first day. staff has to show up a week before to get more comfortable in their roles" you say confidently, it was the one piece of info you did learn from the Zoom call before you started drooling over how attractive each member of the staff was.

"mhm, well i'll carry your pillow for you" she said while making a kissy face at you jokingly.

"awww thanks, how generous of you to leave the heavy stuff for me to carry" you say with a roll of your eyes as you begin to lug your suitcase down the stairs.

"really? no thank you kiss" Honey feigns hurt before snatching your pillow off your bed and quickly catching up to you.

"all of my kisses are reserved for my future love" you joke, and Honey purposely bumps into you with her hip before you can get to the door making you sway ever so slightly.

"lame, no boy deserves your love- they all suck" fair point you had to admit, honestly you only signed up to work at the camp for the social interaction. the most you plan is to have a hallway crush on one of the staff members just to save you from boredom and then forget about said crush as soon as you return home in the fall.

you pop the trunk of your car while Honey locks up your shared house. she was going back home for the summer to visit family, not wanting to be left completely alone for months on end and become a statistic. her words, not yours.

"i guess this is goodbye" she says with a finality to it, putting on her best sad voice. you laugh as she throws the pillow she was holding in the trunk and closes it.

"you make it sound like i’m dying or leaving forever" the drama from this girl, it’s not like you’re much better though. she fake sniffles and places a hand on her forehead putting on her best damsel in distress performance.

"my love is going off to war and she jokes as if she isn't leaving me for two months" there’s a smile peaking through as she speaks and you can't help but laugh, throwing your arms around her in a hug.

"i love you so much, i don't know how i’m going to survive without you" you say half joking as you go along with her antics. truth be told, you really don't know how you're going to survive without her. you both spend just about every second of every day in each other's company and even when you aren't you message so much you might as well be hanging out in person anyway.

you checked the Camp's Website before you applied and know that they do have wifi for staff and the kids mostly in case of emergencies, but just because there is wifi doesn't mean it's good wifi. it's the middle of the woods after all, you'll be lucky if photos even go through.

you both pull apart with matching toothy grins on your faces. "text me when you get to the camp?" Honey asks and you nod knowing she just wants to make sure you get there safe.

"of course, text me when you get to your parent's house?" you watch her smile grow wider while opening the car door.

"always" she responds while you climb in and buckle. "see you in two months" she shouts once the door is closed, you roll the window down and she pokes her head and arms through so you can both share one last slightly awkward hug.

"see you in two months, don't forget me while i'm gone" you say with an exaggerated pout as she pulls out of the window, standing a few steps back from the car so you can pull out of the parking lot properly.

"how could i forget a face like that" you hear her say as you roll the window back up, blasting the air conditioner.

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the actual drive to Camp Wookiee wasn't too bad, you know excluding the fact you were up all night. but every negative has a positive, the positive of this being you managed to make it to the camp an hour before you needed to be.

turning onto the gravel road sent a chill up your back, a mix of excitement and nerves. the yawn that exited your mouth showing the exact opposite of that though and the closer you get to the end of the drive the more tired you realize you are. you make a mental note to take a nap once you've parked.

pushing down another yawn as you pull into the staff parking area you immediately do a double take and decide against a nap not even a minute later. there were five cars already parked side by side, and a group of people standing in front of one just chatting.

you only recognized one of them because he was on the Zoom call, Ben Kenobi at least that's who you think it was. It'd been two weeks so maybe you were mixing up names. either way, you avoid making accidental eye contact with any of them making sure to focus entirely on parking in a straight line.

now to sit in the car and pretend like you hadn't been seen or to get out and greet the four men? you ask yourself with your hand hovering over the keys, debating whether to turn off the engine.

you look at your side mirror taking in the three men you didn't recognize. all tall- one of them was bald, another with a blonde buzzcut and lastly a boy with curly sandy blonde hair, you couldn't see his face though.

he was turned completely towards the man who you were pretty sure was Ben. after weighing your options you decided staying inside the car seemed like the best option compared to meeting four men at once.

you'd rather run into four bears, after all you didn't know what kind of people they were and you certainly didn't want to find out by yourself. maybe when more staff got here you'd be braver, in the meantime you shift your hand from hovering over the keys to the volume knob. turning up the music ever so slightly to drown out any chatter you may hear and leaning back in the seat, unbuckling yourself just to be a little more comfortable.

you look out the windshield taking in the beauty of the forest, the green from the trees reflecting slightly onto your car thanks to the sun. it was serene but short-lived as you jump from someone knocking on your window.

"sorry didn't mean to startle you" Ben said carefully as you rolled down the window. "we saw you pull in and realized you must be the new girl" he said while pointing his thumb over his shoulder, clearly referring to the three men he was originally standing with.

"new girl… like singular?" you blink confused, wouldn't there be other new girls- oh no what if you were the only new girl and the rest of the new staff were all guys?? you felt a bubble of panic begin to brew in your stomach.

"well new worker in general, everyone else working this year are returning Staff from last year." well that's almost worse, at least if it was only guys you'd still have a chance to befriend people. the staff all already knowing each other meant they'd already formed their clicks leaving you to fight for a way in. so much for joining the camp for social interactions, looks like the most educated conversation you'll be having is with some 10-year-old about whatever cartoon they're into.

you press your lips into a thin line before forcing a small polite smile. "my name is y/n" you extend your hand to him and he shakes it with a somewhat firm grip.

"Ben Kenobi, don't suppose you want to come with us onto the actual campgrounds?" you knit your brows together in confusion, turning to the clock thinking your car might have fucked up again and given you the wrong time. Ben seems to read your mind though, letting out a soft laugh before speaking up. "you're not late if that's what you're wondering. Windu is one of the camp directors, he's been setting up since 7:00 o’clock this morning along with Jinn. as long as they're here we're allowed on campgrounds even before the official start time."

okay so maybe Honey’s gotten into your head with all of her true crime stories. you relax at his explanation, reaching over and turning off your engine. "yea i'd appreciate that because i have no clue where i’m supposed to go in all honesty." he nods, taking a step back so you can climb out of the car. it felt nice being able to finally stretch out your legs after the long drive.

"i'll introduce you to everyone. Come on, oh and you can leave your stuff in the car for now. you won't know which cabin to put it in until later anyway." you give a small hum of acknowledgment and lock the car behind you before following after him.

as soon as you came to a stop in front of everyone all eyes were on you, maybe it was the height differences but you honestly felt like a little kid. "this is Windu, one of the camp directors" Ben introduces and when he politely offers you his hand with a somewhat stern look you shake it.

"don't let him scare you, he's nicer than he looks. his face is just stuck like that" you turn your head to whoever made the jab; the boy with sandy blond hair. his eyes are a beautiful shade of blue and he wore a smug smile on his face- he was probably the prettiest boy you'd ever seen.

you want to laugh but aren't sure if it'd be appropriate considering the man he was making fun of was your boss, but when Windu just rolls his eyes with a sigh you get the idea that this is a normal occurrence around here.

"I'm Anakin" he introduces himself and sticks out his hand for you to shake, you shyly take it and his hand engulf yours. there was a confidence to him you noticed or maybe an arrogance but who were you to judge someone you just met?

"ignore him y/n, he's an idiot who'd probably turn up late if he hadn't carpooled with me" Ben interjects pulling your attention away from Anakin, your hands slipping from each other in the process.

"hey i'm never late" He denies but judging from the smile on his face and the lack of actual sincerity in his voice you could tell he didn't even believe himself.

"yes you are and the only times you're not is when i drive you" Ben says with a roll of his eyes and Anakin throws his hands up in defense. you can't help but smile, holding back a laugh as you watch the two interact. it was clear just how close the two were from how they bantered but the fact they carpooled together confirmed it for you.

"I'm Rex" the last man spoke up, he had a small smile on his face, one that seemed endearing like he too enjoyed watching Anakin and Ben's dynamic.

"like a T-Rex?" you ask jokingly, it felt like the natural thing to do. if they all could tease each other who's to say you can't either; when Anakin let out a snort followed by a few snickers which then morphed into genuine laughter when he saw Rex's disgruntled face you felt like you'd made the right choice.

Rex rolled his eyes but smiled after shoving Anakin away. "looks like you're gonna fit right in here y/n" he said while crossing his arms, and you couldn't help but beam.

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so much for fear of having to fight a way in, you'd spent the last hour just getting to know Ben, Anakin and Rex. Windu had to go back to actually helping prep with Jinn and Bail.

throughout the hour more people had shown up and made their introductions to you, and as it turns out everyone got along with each other. well in their own way, there was definitely some not-so-secret animosity between some people but they didn't let it interfere with the general welcoming feel of the whole camp.

eventually, the introductions stopped and the only reason you got anyone's name was because Ben whispered them over to you.

"good morning everyone!" the chatter throughout the room quickly died down as Qui-Gon Jinn's voice echoed throughout the Log Hall. "i'm going to make this brief since all of you have heard this speech before" you felt your stomach drop, right everyone working this year was returning staff besides you.

so much for Honey's 'remain calm because they'll go over it again for the people who didn't show up on the call' advice. despite the fear you couldn't wait to text Honey and say 'i told you my fears were valid' the second you got to the room you'd be staying in.

"Today is all about settling in, so don't get too worried that we're putting you to work immediately." he said with a smile and teasing tone. if only it had the calming effect he'd intended it to have.

"Mace Windu has posted all of the info about where you will be staying, who you'll be bunking with, and which cabins you'll be responsible for on the wall over there" He motions to where Windu is standing on the opposite end of the lodge and Windu waves back.

it was pretty clear that most of this speech was meant for you and you alone given the fact that everyone else was on their phones or having hushed conversations. it made your cheeks flush slightly but you were internally grateful.

"additional camp roles are next to your names on the roster as well, and remember campers will be arriving Monday morning next week. in the meantime relax, enjoy yourselves, get used to the environment and we will see you for dinner at 5:00" he finishes with a clap of his hands, and the room erupts into loud chatter again.

"i wonder who y/n will be partnered with, she's the outlier" Rex questioned out loud, you angle yourself in his direction and he begins to clarify himself. "we've had the same partners for the last two years." you quirk a brow wondering how that's going to work, with you here there was an odd number of counselors.

"they're putting us counselors in groups of three this year" Ben states, he seems to always manages to answer your unasked questions. "i asked Jinn a few weeks ago when i heard they were hiring a new staff member."

Anakin rolls his eyes from his seat beside you, why he chose to sit there instead of spacing out more like Rex and Ben did you weren't sure; but the small heat radiating from his thigh onto yours and the tickle of his skin every time his arm brushed against you kept you from wanting to voice the question out loud.

"of course you asked, honestly i don't get why you don't just apply for a position as Camp director yet" Anakin huffed and you bit back a smile.

"if i did that you'd be out of a ride, Camp directors arrive even earlier than counselors." he retorts.

"aww you really care about me" Anakin joked, putting a hand over his heart and laying it on thick. you couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out of you and could only wonder if this is how people felt when watching you and Honey interact with one another.

Anakin turned towards you looking happy just to have made you laugh. you could get used to his attention on you that's for sure, looks like you found that hallway crush for the summer.

"i think you're partnered up with Padme" Ben says effectively interrupting whatever moment you and Anakin were having. you remember that name, she was the girl you had admired on the Zoom call- natural beauty that's for sure.

you had a feeling you two would get along, what you didn't like however was the feeling you got when you noticed Anakin light up more than you thought humanly possible just at the mere mention of her name. shit.

"oh here he goes" Ben says as Anakin begins to rant about just how gorgeous and amazing Padme is, Anakin just continues like he didn't hear him say anything at all. "he's had a crush on her since his first year working at the camp" Ben says directly towards you, the information not news to Rex.

this just served as another reminder that you were the only new person working at the camp this year, what a shame too. you could get over it though, you'd only known Anakin for what? a little over an hour maybe. at the very least you two had a good connection so friends it was.

you hadn't noticed but you started to resign yourself from the conversation as Anakin went on and on about Padme making Ben and Rex tease him even more. voices blurred together and you found yourself completely tuning out the world around you- maybe this was going to be a little harder than you thought.

a tap on your shoulder tethered you back to reality, you turned completely to see who was trying to get your attention.

had she somehow gotten even prettier in person? Padme stood behind you with her long curly brunette hair pulled back into a ponytail to keep it out of her face and off her neck. she was wearing her camp Issued T-shirt already, it was cream-colored with the Camp Wookiee logo right in the middle.

"hey! I'm Padme" she says with a smile extending her hand. her smile was perfect and made you feel guilty somehow, how could you feel negative about someone who seemed as sweet as they were beautiful? you shake her hand whilst mirroring the same smile on her face.

"i'm y/n, it's nice to meet you" all you could think was that her and Anakin certainly would make the most stunning couple. if he had a crush on her since his first year did she just not realize or not care.

the latter made your heart flutter with hope which you quickly shoved down with disgust at just how quickly you managed to crush on him. Honey would be so disappointed in you or eat up every second of this, probably both knowing her.

"sorry if this is kind of random but i just checked the roster and saw that we were partnered up. well you, me and Jasmine but she's already headed to the cabin we'll be staying at and responsible for." she spoke with a sugar-sweet tone, not the kind that made you feel sick to the stomach; when she spoke it was genuine kindness not a single ounce of malice to be found. "i was going to head there now but figured you might want to walk with me since i'd be easier than finding it yourself. trust me the signposts can get confusing quickly."

"that would be amazing, thank you so much" you say while standing up. you hadn't noticed the silence coming from the three boys until Rex and Ben finally spoke up to say their goodbyes to you.

Anakin seemed a bit awestruck by Padme's presence alone, it was kind of funny to see. you give him a knowing look while simultaneously pushing down that nasty taste that began to cling to the back of your throat. he smiled thankfully not noticing any changes in your behavior and gave you a soft goodbye of his own.

"come on, i'll help you carry your stuff from your car." Padme said and began leading the way out of the hall.

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a groan of relief leaves your body as you finally plop down on the bed in the cabin. your spine burns with pain before melting into comfort as you relax all the muscles in your body.

the part of the cabin you were staying in wasn't super spacious but it was cozy, there were two bunk beds and to your surprise, Padme and Jasmine chose separate bunks. maybe they weren't close but you still figure they'd rather bunk together than with a stranger or maybe they both just wanted the top bunk and that's the actual reason they didn't choose the same one, you didn't bother asking.

you went with the bottom bunk of Padme's, you may not know either of the girls but at least she'd gone out of her way to help you find the cabin and explain how everything was going to work.

according to Padme, there are a bunch of different cabins all with different names. the one you'd be staying at was called Naboo, Anakin and Ben were at the Coruscant cabin, Rex was staying at the Alderaan cabin.

each cabin has the same layout; there's the staff cabin room where the counselors stay which is directly connected to the room where the campers will be staying because it's easier to supervise them that way. then there's a bathroom with multiple stalls and a shower room for everyone in the cabin to use. simple really but not like you needed anything fancy.

the staff cabin room itself has two dressers to be shared amongst whoever's staying there, you and Padme were sharing one and Jasmine had the other dresser too herself. you didn't mind, both you and Padme were pretty conscious about the space you took up so you both managed to fit everything you brought into one out of the two long drawers.

you turn your head to look over at Jasmine, she was beautiful. she had fine long black hair and hazel eyes that seemed to lean more green in the shitty cabin light. your joke with Honey about being at least an 8/10 to be hired was not really feeling like a joke anymore. speaking of Honey, you really should text her.

just as you're about to pull out your phone Padme walks back into the room; she'd left to use the bathroom after helping you settle in. you smile at her when you both make eye contact and she's quick to plop down on the edge of the bed next to you.

Maybe you were imagining it but there felt like a small tension in the air, not between you and Padme but between her and Jasmine. perhaps it was the way Jasmine furrowed her brows the second Padme entered the room or the way she turned to face the wall and focus extra hard on her phone but something was definitely off- lots of puzzle pieces you itched to put together.

"so y/n" she started and you sat up to make more room on the bed before she continued. she happily took up the silent offer, moving to sit properly in the middle so you guys could face each other criss-cross applesauce. "what brings you to Camp Wookiee?" ah so this is going to go the 21 questions route, sorry Honey looks like you're not getting updates anytime soon.

"i just thought it would be fun and a good way to meet new people" plus the pay at this camp in particular was extremely good but you weren't going to say that out loud.

"well good news the people here are great" you swear she mumbled 'some more than others' at the end of that.

"anybody you'd recommend i avoid?" you ask unable to brush it off.

"i-" you watch as her eyes briefly flutter over to Jasmine before she clears her throat and locks eyes with you again. "i'm not sure that's my place to say, but i can say you've done a pretty good job so far of choosing who to hang out with." that was genuine and so was that tension you sensed earlier.

"Anakin, Ben and Rex you mean?" she nods while leaning back onto her hands a bit, letting whatever negative thoughts she held towards the third person in the room roll off her shoulders.

you and Padme clicked pretty quickly after that, and throughout your talk you learned what you'd be in charge of once the campers arrived. you'd be partnered with Anakin and Rex at the arts and crafts center which you were a little bit more excited for than you'd care to admit. she was in charge of the zip line course this year along with Ben, the three camp directors deemed them both the most responsible which seemed to check out.

time seemed to fly talking with her, she had an easygoing air about her that made conversation flow naturally- what on earth could Jasmine have done to make someone like that not like her? weird.

you decided that you'd make it your mission to find out after you discovered she shared the same favorite dessert with you, followed by your favorite book. after all someone with as good a taste as that has to have a valid reason not to like another person.

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you both kept chatting while walking side by side to the Log Hall for dinner with Jasmine not far behind. when you enter the Hall you're flagged down by the boys almost immediately.

"you can go sit with them" Padme said after realizing where you were looking.

"you don't wanna sit with them?" you ask curiously as you both move into the food line.

"i don't mind it.." she trails off while grabbing an apple to put on her tray.

"but you'd rather not." you finish her sentence for her. "i thought you said they were good people?" she hands you a pudding cup with a reassuring smile when she reads the confusion and worry on your face.

"they are, i'd just prefer to spend my time with my friends" she says while pointing with her chin to a group of girls on the opposite side of the hall. "you're welcome to join me, i just figured you'd want to be with them." she shrugs her shoulders, the choice was up to you.

you go through the rest of the line stuck in an internal debate as your tray fills up. it's not that you didn't want to sit with the boys, just you really wanted to sit with Padme and maybe you'd get along well with her friends; but then again the boys clearly wanted you to sit with them.

already having to pick sides and you're not even a full day in yet, you had to fight off the urge to audibly sigh.

"any chance your friends would move tables?" the question tumbled out of your mouth before you could think twice. was it rude to ask that? too late now.

"maybe tomorrow" she offered, and you couldn't help but frown. it was a perfectly reasonable answer just not the one you were hoping for.

"no it's okay actually, i'll just sit with you guys." this time she frowned.

"y/n i promise i won't be offended if you wanna go sit with them instead of me" she said with a laugh half teasing half sincere.

"i knoooww, but i wanna sit with all of you guys" you grumble, ever the indecisive person and always the people pleaser.

"okay then how about the boys come sit with us" you raise a brow as she turns to them, waves and then points to her table. they get the idea and stand up with their trays, you feel a little guilty for having them move but they didn't seem to mind at all.

there's a bit of an awkwardness at first as both groups learn to navigate around each other. you notice pretty quickly how almost polar opposite the boys are from Padme's friends. her friends were as calm and easygoing as her, the boys were full of energy and teasing- well Ben and Rex seemed to be able to reign it in a lot more than Anakin. which to be fair they already had calmer vibes than him anyway.

"she's great right?" Anakin asked you quietly with a nudge of his elbow. he chose to sit next to you again, there was plenty of space for him on the bench to scooch down but it didn't seem like he was aware of that. more likely he was and simply put just didn't care. you raise a brow, "Padme" he added quickly before you could ask.

there's that taste again. you push it down, taking a scoop out of your pudding cup as you nod "yea she is, we get along well too" you answer honestly making sure to sound more enthusiastic than you felt.

the blinding smile he gives you at the confession makes you wish you'd chosen to just sit with the girls alone. pitiful. "what're you two whispering about?" Padme asks with a smile and a look in her eyes that you couldn't decipher.

"just about how great it's gonna be working in the crafts center together, Rex is going to hate us by the end of camp" Anakin answers for the both of you, the lie rolling off his tongue naturally.

"going to? who's to say i don't already" Rex says with a cross of his arms and Anakin rolls his eyes.

"hey what'd i do?" you frown and Rex smiles.

"the first thing you did was compare me to a T-Rex" he defends his prior statement.

"i did no such thing!" you say through a laugh.

he points at you accusingly before saying "like a T-Rex?" in a high-pitched tone mocking you, you can't even take offense because he sounds so unserious.

"i don't sound like that Rex" you snicker only for Anakin to cut in.

"you're right, you sound more like this" he says while pinching his nose to sound nasally and you punch him in the arm. "ow, she hit me!" he says in artificial pain acting like you truly wounded him as he rubs the spot you punched.

"i definitely don't sound like that" you huff and Padme backs you up.

"hmm i'm probably mixing it up with Rex's voice then" he says smugly and Rex kicks him from under the table, judging from the wince he lets out it must have truly hurt unlike your punch.

"no kicking" Ben chastises Rex and Anakin decides no one is safe as he mocks him in a nasally voice too. "oh real mature Anakin" Ben rolls his eyes but there's no real fire behind it as you all poke fun at each other for the rest of dinner.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

"do you have a crush on Anakin?" you whip your head towards Padme blinking rapidly confused and trying to process if you heard her correctly. she didn't repeat herself nor back down.

bold of her to ask that when the man she's talking about is not even five feet away; you had all split up heading in opposite directions towards your respective cabins. "no i don't have a crush on him, why?"

she purses her lips in thought "it seems like he likes you and vice versa" you laugh loud and abrupt, this time she's the one staring at you confused.

"wait you're serious?" you stop in your tracks but she continues walking. well that crushes your hopes of her knowing about his crush and just not reciprocating.

"you'd make a cute couple" she says with a shrug of her shoulders, the absolute irony.

"i just met him today" you say; speeding to catch up with her again. she just smiles and gives you that look she gave you in the log hall again. "i'm serious Padme!" you've grown more defensive than you needed to be.

"so am i" Unbelievable. This wasn't just ironic, it was cruel. you frown and resist the urge to roll your eyes at your own rotten luck.

"i'm too tired for this" half-truth. you were tired, you'd been up all night driving and managed to power through the day without truly resting. however you definitely were not going to be able to get to sleep once you did settle down, instead you'd be replaying every interaction from today in your head.

you did just that after changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth; groaning softly into your pillow once you finally crashed onto your bed. Padme and Jasmine had their headphones on so you were thankfully in the clear.

the feeling of your phone vibrating next to your head was what pulled you from the self-inflicted torture of your spiraling mind. it took you a few minutes to motivate yourself to even lift your head, which felt ten times heavier than usual. probably due to exhaustion.

'don't tell me you died 😱' you can't help the grin that grows on your lips as you read Honey's message, and then you notice the notification wall of 15 other messages from her. oops. you turn onto your back and open your phone to respond.

'die and leave you alone in life? i would never' you type out quickly before reading through her other messages. 'just landed' followed by 'my parents decided to throw me a surprise party sos' and then a string of updates while the party happened.

most people would think Honey is a pretty social person based on how she is when she's with you, most people would be wrong. Honey has the social battery of a grape. she also requires at least a full day by herself in her room with hot chocolate and a book to recharge properly.

'my love has returned from war 🥹' you giggle not realizing how much you missed her until now and that's when you begin to feel homesick. Honey was your home as corny as that sounded. sisters in another life Platonic soulmates in this one; at least that's what you both always said.

'i've got so much to tell you abouutt' where to even start- i'd be easier to just send a voice message but you didn't feel comfortable enough to venture anywhere on your own yet and find somewhere to update her.

'i'm sat' from the beginning it is then.

you spent the next fifteen minutes just debriefing with her and when you finished she found the Instagram accounts of every person you mentioned.

'oh wow he is cute, no wonder you like him' she says after sending a post from Anakin's account. Ben was in the photo and it looked like it was Anakin's 19th birthday judging by the candles on the cake he was holding.

'i don't like him…' you defend but then remember who you're talking to and add 'yet- besides he likes someone else!!'

'someone who doesn't like him back' she sends back just as quickly and you stick your tongue out at her through the screen even though she can't see it.

'she never specified that, and either way i can't change the fact he likes her' you argue and Honey thankfully lets up.

''would it be weird if i followed Ben's account?' beautiful subject change Honey, you couldn't have done it better yourself.

'Ben really 😏?' you smile as you hit send liking being on the opposite end of the teasing.

'you're right too weird 😔' she replies and you two go back and forth for a while before finally calling it a night.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

the sunlight peeking through from the lack of blinds is what woke you up, but rather than opening up your eyes to start the day you just groaned and turned towards the wall; burrowing your face into your pillow hoping for even just a few more seconds of sleep.

there's a muffled giggle from behind you that reminds you there are two other people in the room with you. poking your head up and turning towards the sound you see Padme staring at you with an amused smile while she brushes her hair back into a ponytail. she gets it on the first try too, unfair. you have to rage quit at least three times before your ponytail is even remotely smooth enough to gaslight yourself into thinking it looks good.

"good news you don't have to be up for another hour" she says while looking at the built-in wall mirror, checking to make sure her hair looks good you guessed.

"well i'm up now" you rasp out and she laughs while you clear your throat, stretching out fully before sitting up and rubbing the crud out of your eyes.

"you're not a morning person are you?" she seems very entertained by the beast you wake up as. Honey once compared you to a bear coming out of hibernation when you woke up the first time you guys had a sleepover, you couldn't deny the accuracy.

"not really…" you trail off while fighting back a yawn. there's a small silence while Padme squirts sunscreen into her hands and begins to apply it on her face and arms. you take the moment to look around the room, Jasmine's bed is empty. evidently, you were the only non morning person here.

"do you want me to walk you to the crafts center?" you hum in thought at Padme's question while you clumsily stumble out of your bed.

"don't we have breakfast first?" you question while pulling out your clothes for the day, including your own Camp Wookiee Shirt.

"yea but it's probably a smart idea to figure out where you'll be heading to afterward" she answers, turning around to give you privacy while you change.

"won't i be able to walk with Rex or Anakin?" you ask, and she shrugs as you zip up your shorts and give her the okay to turn back around.

"Rex probably, Anakin no." you raise a brow and she hands you her sunscreen, before you can refuse her she gives you a look you’d only seen your mom give you when you weren’t listening. you don't bother arguing as she was not going to take no for an answer. "Anakin isn't a morning person either- he never shows up to breakfast. which is probably why he always steals Ben's lunch."

"and Ben lets him?" you snort and Padme nods.

"they grew up together, really close families. he sorta takes care of Anakin like an older brother i suppose." you smile at the thought of a young Ben taking care of an even younger Anakin.

"where's Jasmine gone? i haven't gotten the chance to speak to her at all." Padme doesn't bother to hide her sour expression, guess she trusts you enough now to let her true feelings show or she always did but didn’t want to do anything while Jasmine was in the room.

"Jasmine doesn't talk to anyone, she keeps to herself." you frown, Padme doesn't seem like the type of person to hate someone just because they're a loner- and if she was you didn't wanna be friends with someone like that.

"so what's exactly going on between you two anyway?" you needed to know if this friendship was going to continue.

"it's a long story, but let's just say Jasmine isn't a good person.. like at all and she's a liar who got caught pretty much instantly. and when she got confronted rather than owning up to her actions she got defensive." well now you were even more interested but she wasn't in the mood to get into details. you'd have to ask the boys about it at breakfast if you remembered, provided they didn't sit at the same table as Padme's friends.

"honestly i was shocked to find out she came back this year, i figured they hired you because she left" interesting, whatever she did must have happened just last summer then.

"does no one like her?" you don't mean to keep berating her with questions but couldn't resist the nagging curiosity.

"trust me when i say it'd be more surprising if anyone did like her" what the hell did this girl do to become the social piranha of an entire camp?

you push down the rest of your questions for now, letting there be a peaceful silence as you both exit the cabin.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

you both go on a stroll together before heading to breakfast. Padme took the time to show you around more of the Camp pointing out what each building was and where each path leads, it was still a little confusing but you at the very least wouldn't get lost if you ended up by yourself at some point.

Ben and Rex were sat at the table they initially sat at yesterday. they gave you a wave when you made eye contact and you smiled in return.

"i'm gonna sit with just the boys is that okay?" you ask while turning to Padme who's digging through the bin of fruit snacks looking for the purple pack instead of the blue. you don't blame her everyone knows the purple pack is superior.

"you don't have to run your decisions by me y/n" she teases and you nudge her with your elbow in response. "besides we sleep in the same cabin, you can't get rid of me that easily" she jokes.

"you're right, guess i'm stuck with you for the entirety of camp against my will" this time Padme nudges you causing you both to burst out laughing.

"i'll see you later y/n" she says and gives you a little wave as you split off in separate directions.

"well good morning, i'm surprised you're not tired of us yet" Rex says in greeting as you plop down next to Ben.

"mmm i'd say i'm bordering on just tolerating you guys at most" the banter was instinctive at this point.

"ah i see we're one in the same then" Ben chuckles then takes a big bite of hash. his plate was loaded compared to yours and Rex's, that's a lot considering how much you love to eat. it does however make more sense on why he doesn't seem to care about Anakin stealing his lunch.

"i know we have the rest of the week to ourselves before campers get here, so what exactly are we going to be doing at our jobs if there's no one to perform them for?" you wonder out loud for either of them to answer.

"nothing really, it's just the camp's way of allowing us to hang out and still get paid for it." you give Rex a 'are you serious?' look and he smiles "what? our Camp directors actually like us believe it or not. i'm sure if there were more newbies like you it would be us learning the jobs. but since it's almost always the same people every year this is what it's turned into."

"so this is like a retreat for you guys?" Rex finishes his last bite of food before responding.

"as much of a retreat as you can get with 100 gremlins running around" you nearly choke to death on your food. Ben rubs your back in support as you catch your breath while laughing. note to your future self don't eat around Rex, it's a dangerous game to play.

"drink some water y/n" Ben says in between laughs, him and Rex are both loud enough to garner the attention of the whole lunch room. you're not exactly a shy person but you can't help the heat in your cheeks or the way you slink down hiding your face behind the water bottle you drink out of with just about everyone's eyes on you as they try to decipher what happened.

thankfully it doesn't take long for them to lose interest and carry on in their individual conversations but you still fight the urge to kick both boys for embarrassing you like that.

"i hate both of you" they just smile with matching cheesy grins and you roll your eyes.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

the walk to the crafts center with Rex is just as good bad as you both kept fooling around to see who could make the other laugh harder. it doesn't die down even when you both see Anakin waiting out front of the lodge for you two with his arms crossed and an annoyed face.

Qui-Gon gave Rex the keys to open it because he was the more responsible one, but you had a feeling he'd have given it to you if he knew you a little better.

"what're you two on about?" Anakin grumbles as you both come to a stop in front of him, wiping tears from your eyes and stifling your laughter which only seemed to worsen his mood. he really wasn't a morning person wow.

"Rex just said something funny" you shrug; truth be told nothing you two had said within the last ten minutes made any sense but for some reason that made it all the more hilarious.

Anakin's brows creased and you bite your bottom lip when the urge to reach over and smooth it out with your thumb manifests out of nowhere. it was almost laughable. you let your fingers twitch at your sides instead.

Rex gets the door open with a creak which effectively pulls your attention away from the disgruntled boy in front of you.

the inside was plain, there were multiple picnic benches and some empty corkboards on the walls. you took note of the supply closet in the back and the cleaning supplies that rested beside the door.

"alright Jinn messaged me this morning and said that our only real job for this week is to clean and decorate this place for the campers." you give him a simple nod and walk toward the back of the room.

"does he prefer to be called Jinn or is that only allowed for people he's close with?" Rex takes a minute to consider your question like he'd never really thought about it before. you hand him the broom while you wait.

"i think he prefers Jinn but lets us decide what we're more comfortable with calling him" Anakin answers with a annoyed tone of voice after deciding Rex was taking to long.

"i'm gonna take the mop bucket out back to fill it with water from the hose" he says while turning his baseball cap around. you suddenly feel very warm, and it's not from the heat outside. you swallow before nodding and grabbing the container of Clorox wipes to clean off the dust from the tables.

as soon as Anakin exits the lodge Rex speaks up. "well he's in a pissy mood" you look at him incredulously.

"Padme told me he wasn't a morning person?" your voice is laced with uncertainty now unsure whether to believe that bit of info she'd given you.

"oh he's not, but it's also not usually this bad. then again i shouldn't be too shocked he's more emotional than a hormonal teenage girl" you deadpan at him and he immediately backtracks "not that i'm saying all teenage girls are emotional it's just-" he stops when he sees your lips twitch. "you're pulling my leg aren't you."

you break character instantly and burst out laughing "you should have seen the panic on your face oh my gosh" it's a laugh straight from your core one that makes Rex look like he may just smack you with the broom he's holding.

"okay seriously what am i missing? Rex is not that funny" Anakin huffs when he enters the lodge again, sounding like a pouty little kid who's not getting what they want.

"hey man she made herself laugh, i'm just an innocent victim" Rex defends while sweeping everything that was on the floor into a small pile.

"i was just messing with him" you smile; looking down as you continue the task you started.

"that i can get down with" he says with a smile letting the tension drop from his shoulders as he places the bucket down and goes to grab the mop.

you bite your tongue at the need to question what's going on with him and just finish wiping down each bench. you didn’t feel like you had the right anyway.

the three of you work together to finish cleaning the lodge. the clock on the wall showed it was now 11:00 am and lunch was at 12:00 pm so you had an hour to start working on decorations.

you all plop onto a shared bench and get to work. Anakin made a few star banners while you cut out and tapped a bunch of letters to the wall just below where the cork boards hung, they spelled out 'creativity' and 'imagination'. Rex was apparently the least creative out of the three of you so he was just busied himself with laying out all the crafts supplies so only the extra stuff was in the closet.

"if we finish all of this today, what do we do for the rest of the week?" you ask from the top of the stool you stood on. Anakin was behind you in case you fell while you hung up his banners.

he had offered to be the one to do the hanging but you insisted on being useful to which he replied 'oh yeah because you haven't been already' with the sassiest tone you'd ever heard from a man. to be fair Anakin was proving to be the leader of the sassy man apocalypse so you shouldn't have been shocked.

"we are gonna finish today, and that just means we get to chill for the rest of the week and test out projects for the kids to do" he answers and you see his hands flinch forward when the stool wobbles from you moving onto your tiptoes to get the height right for the banner. it shouldn't make your heart flutter the way it does after all he was quite literally just making sure you didn't bust your ass.

"wow Rex wasn't joking earlier then" you look down at him and there's that furrow in his brows again, it's gone when you blink making you think it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

"wait you didn't believe me?" the question comes from the opposite side of you as Rex seems to spawn out of nowhere. last you checked he was on the complete opposite side of the room organizing the construction paper by color and shade, who'd of guessed he was so particular about stuff like that.

"i was a little busy choking on my food to really process what you said" you rolled your eyes and he snorts nudging your leg with his shoulder which in turn makes the stool wobble and Anakin glare at him.

you ignore the way Rex and him have a wordless conversation and finish taping the last part of the banner.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

the rest of the day went by fast, which wasn't the least bit astonishing. what was however; to both you, Padme and just about every other staff member it seemed was seeing Anakin at Breakfast the next day.

he wasn't eating. he barely even looked conscious, but there he was directly across from Ben and Rex. he was half asleep fully leaning into the palm of his hand, the two boys watching him looked dumbfounded.

"am i hallucinating?" Padme pinches you and you yelp.

"doesn't seem like it" she says while you glare.

"i said hallucinating not dreaming" she throws a small pack of graham crackers at you and you both giggle.

"well if you're hallucinating so am i, and probably everyone else in here" she clapsback and gives you a weird smile that makes you wanna hide, it was like she saw right through you. you didn't think anyone other than Honey and your mom could do that.

"i'll see you later" there's a sparkle in her voice that you choose to ignore, waving goodbye and heading to the table the boys were sat at.

"are you even alive right now?" Anakin blinks awake at your question, rather than responding he scoots closer to you invading your personal space like he'd been doing since you first met the other day.

this boy clearly has something against there being any type of distance between two people when he sits next to them.

"i'd argue he thinks he's dreaming" Ben teases then snickers when he receives a kick under the table. you do your best to hide your confusion and focus on the food in front of you.

"how can you even eat right now?" Anakin mumbles from beside you.

"uhhh because it's 7 in the morning and i'm starving??" he makes a disgusted face that baffles you.

"the idea of eating this early is nauseating" he says through a yawn.

"that's because you're never awake this early" Rex snides. Anakin doesn't defend himself just grumbles incoherently, you think he might of mocked him but it was really hard to tell.

"you're disrupting the natural way of the world Anakin, next we'll find out there was a hurricane in Antarctica" you're about to comment on how that's not scientifically possible but then realize that's exactly why Ben said it.

"haha you're so very funny Kenobi" as much as Anakin was grumpy it was not nearly as bad as the grumpiness he greeted you and Rex with yesterday. not that you didn't believe Rex when he said he wasn't usually that bad but now that you were experiencing it yourself you understood a lot more.

"ooo Kenobi, we're using last names now. you must be pretty upset Skywalker' Ben teases, completely unafraid of the consequences he might have from teasing a sleep-ridden bear.

ah, you're seeing the whole hibernating bear thing now. poor Honey; if you'd known this is what she was dealing with in the morning you'd have started locking yourself in your room till you felt like a decent human being to confront the world.

after the bickering dies down there's a comfortable silence as everyone just enjoys their food, well besides Anakin who's more or less in his own world. it was nice and you let yours eyes travel around the room before landing on your cabin mate who's still not even given you so much as a greeting not to mention was sitting completely and utterly alone. there wasn’t even anyone sitting at the tables near by her.

"what's up with Jasmine?" the question startles the group. probably because to them it was out of nowhere, for you however it's been a burning topic just waiting to be discussed. "i've just noticed she doesn't talk much, and Padme said she lied or whatever but didn't tell me any actual details….i figured you guys might know" you cringe inwardly at yourself when they still don't say anything.

you shouldn't have asked, there was probably a good reason why Padme didn't want to get into details about what happened and now you've just ruined everyone's morning.

your internal monologue of despair was cut short by Rex. "she did some fucked up shit. mostly she spread a bunch of rumors around about people, and she lied about pretty much everything. it's honestly shocking the Directors didn't catch wind of anything." Well that's not good but it can't be that bad?

it very much was that bad. the biggest thing she did was out one of the older campers who felt so uncomfortable they left camp early. that was the turning point when everyone decided to confront her and she got defensive starting her lone wolf act.

Jada was the little girl's name and everyone loved her; she was apparently really sweet with short blonde hair paired with rosy cheeks and a subtle southern accent if you listened close enough.

her parents were super conservative so it's no wonder she'd feel uncomfortable with something like that floating around the camp. especially considering Parent week had been coming up at the time.

she also lied and spread rumors about several of the other girls at camp that were pretty damaging. one of the lesser rumors was about a girl she said was a slut who slept around with all of the guys on camp.

needless to say you understood everyone's opinions on her now, talk about violating on so many levels. how on earth was she still allowed to work here? everyone loved the camp directors and they didn't seem like people who would let something like that slide.

"Padme told me she was shocked that Jasmine even came back this year" you were shocked too now that you knew the extent of what had been done. "but how has no one complained about her directly to the directors?"

"we all sorta came to a unanimous decision to just pretend she doesn't exist." Ben answered while pushing his food around on his plate.

that didn't sit right with you, this is one of those times you speak up not stay silent. "why though?"

"well even though Jinn, Windu and Bail would believe us we'd still have to supply them with evidence for the big guys upstairs….which in turn would mean they'd have to contact everyone involved" he added that last part when he noticed it wasn't clicking in your head. it took a few moments before you let out a quiet oh.

Jada would have to be contacted. which would mean her parents would have to be contacted and since she's a minor they'd have to be told everything. so everyone was staying silent to protect her.

you felt a wave of newfound respect for every single person who worked here as well as a burning hatred for Jasmine. fuck her honestly. there was a long awkward lull in the conversation before it started back up again.

Rex was the one who managed to switch subjects. you ended up on the topic of how Ben and Padme were doing with the zip line course. to no one's surprise Padme was a natural at it, Ben said she got the hang of it after Windu explained it once whereas he had needed a few extra pointers. they also had to do a safety briefing then take a test to make sure they knew everything they would have to for the campers to be allowed on it.

talk about getting off easy on your end, a brief cleaning session followed by decorating a room hardly classified as work compared to what they had to do. not like you'd complain, this just meant you'd be spending the summer doing art. well that and looking after kids, you had a pretty natural affinity with children though so it wasn't a real worry on your end.

Your mom always said it was because you were as childish as them, you preferred carefree and whimsical but a win was a win.

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*═╝

"that looks like shit" Rex is leaning over the table watching Anakin as he weaves bracelet strings together.

"you look like shit but i don't say anything" he quips, very obviously annoyed.

"did you even follow the directions?" Anakin ignores Rex at first but when he builds on the initial question with "because it doesn't look like you did" he gives him a deadly glare.

"i glanced at them and i got the basic idea" Rex looks ready to disagree with him and Anakin looks ready to shove every bead in the bowl next to him down his throat.

you don't say anything, holding your breath so you don't burst out laughing and end up the next target. although it's not like they could say anything about your bracelet as it actually looked like the picture, besides a few color changes.

"well look at yours! what even is that?" Anakin gestures to the bracelet if you could even call it that in Rex's hand, it looked like he hadn't even started.

"it's shit as well but at least i can admit that" He says pointedly and Anakin throws his half-finished attempt of a bracelet at him in response.

you can't hold it in any longer practically bursting into tears from how hard you laugh. both boy's heads snap toward you, Anakin wears a frown and Rex just looks stunned as if he'd forgotten you were there entirely.

"you two are utterly ridiculous" you wheeze and fight back snorting like a pig each time you gasp for air.

it's been like this all week as you guys experimented with different projects to do with the kids, getting to know each other way more in the process. the guys were pretty transparent from the beginning so it wasn't much of a shock when you discovered Anakin was in fact consistently childish and a bit moody but despite that he was extremely loyal and very kind.

he hides most of his real feelings with humor, your guess was he gets awkward when things get too serious so he keeps the mood light. and if that talk a few days ago at breakfast has anything to say it was safe to conclude he also resigns himself from conversations entirely when he's unsure what direction it will go.

Rex was generally a calm person, he could be serious when he needed to but prefers to joke around. which would explain why he always messes with Anakin so much. he's also extremely loyal and although he doesn't verbally express his emotions as much as Anakin does, he wears them all on his face.

Ben was the peacemaker but could be a shit stirrer too. As far as he was concerned Anakin was his brother and he had no problems arguing with anyone who said otherwise. overall the boys were all pretty similar but had their differences, it was nice to be a part of their group.

out of everyone you'd gotten the closest to Padme, sharing a room probably helped with that. but so did the fact you both shared similar interests, and even on the things you disagreed with you both still let the other gush as much as they wanted.

it was a nice little home away from home. you've kept Honey updated about everything any chance you got, but there was only so much you both could share from a distance and you couldn’t help but miss her badly. at the very least you could count on the fact camp would go by fast thanks to how fun it's been so far which meant you'd see Honey just as quickly.

that same thought made you feel a little glum but you never dwelled on it for too long, it was just the beginning after all and Campers would be arriving tomorrow morning.

Camp Wookiee T-shirt visual aid:

tag list: @anakinskwkler @anakinstwinklebunny @divineani

a/n: ITS HERE 🎉🎉🎉 everyone say thank you @munsondjarin who inspired me to write this fic 🤭

i can’t believe how much i actually wrote for just this one part, but it also makes sense considering im essentially just writing out the whole story and splitting it up by beginning, middle and end compared to a bunch of small individual chapters ✨

anyway i hope you all enjoy see you next week for Part 2 💋💋

have a good day Huns Xx <3

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temptress-writes · 1 year

Text

📺 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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guiltyasdave · 2 months

Text

say you'll see me again

epilogue • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: 789 (it's a smol one)

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics (in the past), daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks big time), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, angst, but also... nice things :)

a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, i love you <3

this is me officially saying goodbye to these two babies and i'm extremely emotional about it. i loooooved writing this story, it has brought me so much joy, it's my favorite thing that i've created and they really mean the world to me.

this story has received so much love and i'm beyond grateful for everyone who has read, liked, commented or reblogged <3 i hope you like this ending as much as i do.

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’ masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

No one’s there to cheer you on at your graduation ceremony, no one to sit in the audience and clap when your name is being called and you walk across the stage. You didn’t invite anyone.

A small part of you, the part that still feels like the 12 year old girl who thought that her father would love her if she only tried hard enough, had hoped that somehow he would know anyway. Would show up to surprise you.

It’s less of a surprise that he didn’t.

When you accept the certificate with your name on it, it gives you a grim sense of satisfaction. You’ve done it on your own. On your own terms, with your own money.

Your father had all but thrown you out of the house after seeing you leave on the security camera footage mere hours after he’d declared that you were grounded. It’s been a challenge, adjusting to the lack of his financial aid, getting by entirely on your own. It also felt like freedom, like you were finally able to breathe.

You swallow down the bitterness that stings in your chest and rises up your throat when you watch your classmates, your friends, surrounded by their families. Proud smiles, hands on shoulders, long hugs. Fueling a longing that’s been there for as long as you can remember. It wouldn’t have been like that with your father anyway.

You’re better off like this, with the person who, despite his insistent claims, is the one who actually brought you to this moment: Yourself.

The buildings of the town you were raised in are surrounding you, a familiar backdrop as you make your way down the street. You don’t know why you felt the need to come here. Maybe you had to visit one last time, after leaving in a panicked rush, too hurt to dare to look back. Maybe you can say goodbye now, and your mind will stop torturing you with questions of what could have been, daydreams of scenarios that you wished had turned out differently. Maybe you can clear out the remains of the battlefield that it turned into, and finally make peace with it.

You had wished to be able to hate David. Hate him for not wanting you, hate him for pushing you away. Hate him for the way he changed you, for showing you a connection that you haven’t been able to feel with anyone else. But you never could.

It’s not hard to understand in hindsight, why making you leave seemed like the right thing to do for him. Looking back, you think that it actually was. Though that never made losing him hurt any less.

If anything, you wish you could hate him because the fact that he did the right thing makes you want him more.

The door shuts behind you and your eyes adjust to the dim light of the bar. Your shoes are sticky against the ground. It’s a far cry from the country club you used to go to. But you’re also a far cry from the girl who used to go there. No black little designer dress on your body, no expensive heels clicking against the floor. And no fear. No fear of being ignored, no fear of being talked down to, no fear of having to make yourself small.

You’re free to be yourself, now.

You walk towards the counter, hop up on one of the stools. It scratches against the wooden floor, mixing with the faint sound of rock music playing from a speaker in the corner.

There’s movement beside you, the silhouette of a man caught in the corner of your eye. The drum of his fingertips against the counter.

“Evening.”

The wave of a memory builds up in your mind within moments, flooding your every thought. The smooth rumble of his voice. The shape of his face when you turn towards him. The strong nose, the hard line of his jaw, the permanent pout on his lips that you can still feel against yours when you try really hard to remember. The deep brown shade of his eyes that still means safety to you.

When thinking about him, you had always pictured him somewhere new, somewhere you couldn’t reach him. It seems silly, now that he’s right here, like a piece falling into place. Of course he’s here.

Your lips pull up into a smile. No shyness, no worries of doing something that you shouldn’t.

“Hi.”

“I’ve never seen you around here before,” he echoes back the first words you’ve ever spoken to him. He remembers, just like you. Just like he said he would. Your smile grows wider.

You’re free to be yourself, now.

...i'm trying really hard not to cry right now. if you enjoyed this, please consider letting me know <3

#dave york x reader #dave york #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #the equalizer 2 #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #janas fics #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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toomuchracket · 6 months

Text

if you're too shy (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)

in which the other music journalist at the magazine you work at is the cutest weird boy you've ever met. enjoy <3

in hindsight, coming back from a two-week holiday the same day the magazine goes to print was a misguided idea.

your editor-in-chief tells you as much when you enter the office, pulling you into a half hug. “don't get me wrong, it's lovely to see you,” she says, scraping her hair back into a bun and securing it with a pencil. “but you'll be doing nothing all day, i'm afraid. maybe some last minute proofing, but i think everyone in nightlife and reviews has been alright. double-check with marianne.”

you do just that, weaving your way through people running copy and coffee between departments until you reach your own. it's mercifully quiet compared to everywhere else, the ten or so people dotted at desks around the sunlit room looking at their laptops and wearing headphones; you actually have to flick marianne on the back of the head to get her to notice you. “oi.”

“who the- oh, hi!” marianne's face softens when she sees it's you, and she stands to pull you into one of her infamously bone-crushing hugs before pulling back to get a good look. “well, you look annoyingly well-rested. but i suppose a fortnight in a spanish villa will do that to you. bitch.”

“i had a great time, thanks for asking,” you grin. “how’s everything been with you? stressful, without your star reporter?”

“well, for starters, you've been succeeded for that title.”

you frown only half-jokingly, scanning the room to try and guess which of your colleagues has replaced you as marianne's unofficial favourite. “who the fuck…?”

“language,” she lightly slaps your arm, in spite of the fact she was just about to say the same thing, then smiles suspiciously. “and i’m talking about our newest recruit.”

the brewing annoyance in your stomach dissipates immediately, replaced by a flock of tiny butterflies. “oh,” you try to keep your smile to a minimum. “that's okay. i like him.”

marianne sees right through you, though. she rolls her eyes. “oh, you would.”

“what?”

she sighs, motioning for you to lower your voice and modifying her own to a whisper. “he’s a curly-haired pretty-eyed vaguely scrawny white boy. you'd like him even if he didn't think the sun shone out of your arse.”

“marianne!” you hiss. “he does not!”

“don’t act all indignant, he has literally looked over at you once every thirty seconds since you walked in - and don't look, idiot, you'll freak him out. we need him on the ball, today of all days,” she rubs her eyes. “but yes, he’s very good at his job. i like him, even if i've no idea what in the world he goes off on his tangents about. great writer.”

“yeah, he is,” you risk a glance towards him, but all you can see is the back of his laptop - covered in stickers for things you can only name half of - and dark curls peeking out from the side of his headphones. “i like the references. different perspective from me, innit? that's why we hired him, after all.”

“who's we? you were too pissed off that i was hiring another music critic to agree to be part of the interviewing panel.”

you'd love to disagree, but you really were pissed when marianne and the other editors told you they were expanding the nightlife section. it didn't matter that it was in response to an increase in funding and readership, with the magazine switching to a print format as well as the online edition you'd contributed to since its creation - your fierce independence and pride meant you didn't take the news well, made you think it was an issue with your competence and writing ability that meant you'd be getting a new colleague. but once you were reassured that you'd still get to keep the Big Gigs and restaurant reviews to yourself, you were slightly more agreeable to the idea.

and once you actually met the new guy, stumbling over both his words and his own feet as he introduced himself, you couldn't quite remember why you'd been opposed in the first place.

“well,” you say, snapping back into reality. “thank goodness i'm over it now.”

“because you want to get under him?”

“no!” you stand indignantly, and then grin. “on top, maybe.”

“good grief,” your boss shakes her head. “don't you go bringing it up to him - excuse the pun - before this edition goes to the printers,” she points at you as you move to walk away. “or talking to him at all until then, actually, you hear me? i love you, but you're a distraction to him, and he's my best journo.”

“he's not, but alright,” you pat her head as you walk back towards the door. “i'll be in the staff room if you need me. and i won't talk to anyone, mum, i promise.”

“i'm only five years older than you!”

“whatever you say!” you reply in a singsongy voice, giggling to yourself as you wander towards the sunny kitchen. the little radio on the windowsill is on, as it always is, and you nod along to the cure while you wait for the kettle to boil. once you've made a cuppa (and grabbed a slack handful of the chocolate digestives marianne always keeps the cupboard stocked with), you settle at the table with your laptop, typing out ideas for your next feature and doing your best not to think about the boy down the corridor you've been instructed not to talk to for the time being. for the most part, you succeed.

that is, until he walks into the staff room two hours later.

you frantically wipe your face of biscuit crumbs as he does, smiling as sweetly as you can for someone with no idea if she has chocolate on her teeth or not. “hi, matty. how are you?”

“oh, hi! i'm, uh, i'm alright,” matty smiles widely enough that his verbal emotional downplaying is blatant - still, he's so cute, beaming at you like that with his little sweater paws. he’s always in a jumper or cardigan or hoodie of some kind, and on more than one occasion in the three months you've known him, you've absolutely thought about literally cosying up into him instead of doing any work. “how was spain? and the wedding - it was a family wedding you were going to, yeah?”

“that's right,” it’s not a big deal, but you glow at the fact he remembered. or maybe it's the soft intent he looks at you with. “it was lovely, yeah. although - wait, have we gone to print?” you ask, suddenly recalling marianne's instructions. “i'm not keeping you from work?”

matty's curls bounce as he shakes his head, light hitting off the metal hoop in his earlobe (that you're only mildly obsessed with). “we've gone. i'm just in here to get my lunch,” he pulls a tupperware from the fridge, cheeks rosy as he waves it. “made some soup last night.”

he makes his own soup. the thought is so endearing that it takes everything in you not to sigh; you settle for a smile. “carrot and coriander?”

“you can tell from one glance?”

you shrug. “s'my favourite.”

“really?” matty's face seems to light up. “mine too,” he busies himself with putting the tupperware in the microwave, taking his time pressing buttons and turning dials before looking bashfully at you. “so, you had a nice time at the wedding, then?”

“i did, thank you. do you, um,” you start, suddenly shy. “d'you want to see some photos from it, while you're waiting for the soup to heat up?”

he nods back just as shyly, sitting quite awkwardly on the seat next to yours; while you open your photos app, matty twists a stray curl around his finger, and the movement seems to send your nerves into vibration as well as the molecules in the air. with a series of shallow breaths, you locate the folder of the wedding pictures and set your phone on the table. “feel free to flick through them, if you like.”

“thank you,” matty sits forward, carefully swiping through the album. you lean on your elbow, doing your best not to beam adoringly at the way he looks intently at each photo before moving to the next. “the venue is really beautiful.”

“yeah, it was stunning.”

the next picture is one of you in your bridesmaid dress, taken by your sister the morning of the wedding. you watch, slightly heartsick, as matty's mouth falls open as he looks at you; the feeling worsens when he tentatively does the same thing in real life, those pretty eyes of his sparkling as he smiles softly. “so are you. really. like,” he looks down at the photo again, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at you. “that colour is beautiful on you. honest. you look incredible.”

“thank you,” the words come out in a whisper, and the two of you silently smile at each other for a moment until you clear your throat. “um, there are more of the official pics on my instagram, let me… actually, do you have my private account?”

“oh, no,” matty shakes his head again - god, you love the way his hair moves. “just the one for your writing.”

“well,” you tap on the app with an almost-imperceptibly shaky finger. “that's the username there, if you'd like to follow. no pressure, of course. don’t wanna fuck up your algorithms or anything.”

your nervous chuckle at the end of the sentence turns to a giggle when you see matty's face as you share your username; it lights up so much that you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd just won the lottery. he pulls his own phone out and taps away at it. “you don't have to follow me back, by the way,” his cheeks flush a deep red, a beautiful colour. “m'not posting anything interesting.”

doubtful. he might be one of the most interesting people you've ever met, all talent and sweetness and a wealth of cultural understanding wrapped up in a sweater and a pretty face. “no, i'd like to.”

“alright. thank you,” matty's cheeks seem to get even redder as he watches you hit follow back, face twitching as though he’s trying to stop himself smiling too big. when the microwave dings, he all but skips over to it, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in a sweetly awkward way; he swears under his breath when he lifts the steaming container out, turning back sheepishly to look at you. “sorry.”

“don't worry,” you grin at him, feeling slightly bold. “i still think you're sweet when you swear.”

he giggles, and the noise makes your heart leap; in addition to being one of the most interesting people you think you've ever met, matty healy is without doubt the cutest. watching his lips pout in concentration as he stirs the soup and checks the temperature, you briefly imagine what they would feel like against your own, how he would be if the two of you were to kiss. just as giggly and endearingly awkward as he usually is, you think - eager to please, lips and tongue a little sloppy and unsure but enthusiastic enough for you not to mind, slightly unsure of where to put his hands so as to not make you uncomfortable… the scene is as clear as day in your head, and you really, really want to recreate it. you'd devour him right now if you could, the sweetheart.

and then, matty reaches up to get a bowl from the shelf, the hem of his shirt goes with him, and your want to devour him suddenly takes on a less pg-rated meaning than it did a second ago.

he has a fucking hip tattoo.

you’re pretty sure it's only a sliver of the full design you can actually see, but the hints of red and blue and black ink and the glimpse of his happy trail are enough to fuck you up completely. as you register what you're seeing - what you're discovering about the seemingly buttoned-up, shy, unassuming-to-everyone-but-you matty - your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to cough quite obviously on the mouthful of lukewarm tea you'd just taken. one cough turns into another, and you clap a hand over your mouth to make your tattoo reaction attack the least obvious it can be.

still, the ever-perceptive man across the kitchen notices, running over to crouch in front of you with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. “you alright, darling?”

darling?! no, you most certainly aren't alright.

but you can't tell matty that, so you stick to gesturing to let him know you'll reply once you've managed to swallow your tea. “i am, yeah, thanks. tea just, y'know, went down the wrong way.”

matty tilts his head. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you smile, slightly embarrassed. “really. thank you, though.”

“of course,” he smiles in return, knee brushing lightly against your leg as he steadies himself; he looks down, eyes widening as he registers how close the two of you are, and quickly stands. “i'd better, y'know, get my lunch.”

you nod, despite the strange loneliness settling into your bones at the lack of him next to you. “i can head back to the office, if you want peace?”

“no, no, please stay!” matty all but gasps, turning to look at you like a deer caught in headlights - he clears his throat, blinking a few times before speaking again. “please don't feel the need to leave on my account, i mean. or feel obliged to talk, really - i was just going to read.”

“you're sure i won't be a bother to you?”

matty smiles warmly, shaking his head. “that'll never happen.”

christ.

“okay,” you whisper, winking at him - and savouring the little giggle that bubbles out of him when you do - before turning back to your laptop.

matty settles at the table a minute or so later, pulling a paperback from his back pocket and holding it open quite attractively with one hand. you peek over the rim of your laptop at him every so often, never for more than a couple of seconds at a time; partially to avoid the mortification of him catching you, but mostly because if you look at him any longer you know your mind will wander back to that fucking hip tattoo of his, and what it might look like completely visible to you, and what it might feel like under your lips, and what noises matty might make if you slowly dragged your tongue all over it before moving to the side to lick a wavy line up the length of his-

enough. he's literally right there.

the room feels hot, all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing and throat drying to match. on only slightly shaky legs, you pick up your waterbottle and head to the water fountain, crouching as best you can to fill it. even though he stays silent, you can feel matty’s eyes on you from across the room, but it doesn't bother you or freak you out in the way that other men ogling you at a water fountain would - it's quite obvious that matty has some sort of more-than-platonic affection for you, but his gaze has always been one of appreciation and awe when it comes to you, not the predatory one you've come to expect from men. and yet, his is the only male gaze that makes you feel slightly nervous, unused to being looked at with such reverence and tenderness by an attractive boy; in complete contrast, though, it also makes you lower your guard, pull down the bricks from the wall you've built around your heart, and allow yourself to actually feel something for matty, for once. something good, honest, promising.

matty looks up from his book as you sit down, smiling pleasantly. he opens his mouth as if to talk, and then closes it immediately, shaking his head slightly.

this intrigues you. “you okay, matty?”

“hmm? oh, yeah, i was just thinking,” his cheeks go a shade of pink you would buy in blush form if you could find it. “when you were first talking about the wedding… you said although, and then we got off-topic slightly. what, um, what were you going to say, if you don't mind me asking?”

“oh, right,” you wrack your brain, doing your best to not get distracted by how cute you find his perception. “i think i was going to say something about how, as good as it all was, there's nothing like a family wedding to remind you of how single you are.”

his jaw falls open. “you… you don't have a boyfriend? wait, sorry,” he blinks. “or a partner?”

you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself smiling. “no boyfriend, no. and thus, constantly advised by a never-ending flock of aunts that i should get one so i could get married.”

“christ,” matty winces. “yeah, my cousin's getting married in a couple of months - not looking forward to everyone asking me when i'm going to meet a nice girl and settle down, as if i can answer.”

no girlfriend. how interesting. “you're single? really?”

he rolls his eyes, still smiling at you. “be serious. course i am.”

“i am being serious! that surprises me,” you lean on one elbow, tilting your head to look at him. “you're lovely, matty.”

matty’s eyes widen, and he blinks adorably a few times before he smiles shyly again. “thank you. i think the same about you.”

“you do?”

he simply nods, total sincerity in those pretty eyes.

you feel your cheeks warm, but you make no effort to hide it. “thank you.”

matty shrugs. “just telling the truth, darling,” he looks panicked when he realises what he's said. “sorry for calling you that, twice, it just-”

“i like it, matty, it's alright,” you say reassuringly. “and i like-”

“oh, thank god you're both here,” marianne bursts into the room, carrying her laptop; you frown petulantly at her for ruining your moment, but shuffle your chair round closer to matty's so she can sit at the table too. “something weird’s happening.”

matty squints. “what d'you mean by weird?”

marianne pushes her laptop towards you both. “there's overlap in your planned reviews - the band you're going to see at the end of next week, matthew, have just been announced as the opener for the next Big Gig. i need to know how we want to go about this.”

“oh,” he looks at you. “i don't mind if you want to just review them as part of yours.”

you're shaking your head vehemently before he even finishes talking. “no, that's not fair,” you tap your lips with your index finger the way you always do when you concentrate, trying to ignore the glow within your body when you see matty looking at them from the corner of your eye; inspiration strikes, and you turn to marianne. “matty could come with me, couldn't he? if he reviews their headline gig, and then he does a follow-up review of their opening set in the Big Gig feature - we could just do a joint byline, work together on it.”

both of them turn to look at you in slight shock. marianne is the first to speak, her words trickling out slowly as she processes the fact you've just agreed to let someone else work on a Big Gig for the first time. “you're… happy with that?”

“if matty is, yeah,” you turn to him, smiling. “sound alright?”

he beams. “more than. thank you.”

“of course,” you turn back to the boss. “there you go. sorted.”

she sighs, relieved. “thank goodness for that. alright,” she stands, picking up her laptop and heading back to the main office. “i'll coordinate press passes. thanks for making that simple - you're both stars.”

“anytime!” you call after her, before turning back to matty. “you're sure you're happy to do this? i realise i've just given you more work to do, but…”

he laughs, a beautiful sound. “nah, i don't mind. also,” he shuffles in his seat, bashful again. “i actually have a spare ticket for the first show, if you'd like it - bought it before i saw it was on the review roster. doesn't seem fair that i get to go to two gigs while you only get one, i think. i mean, no pressure, obviously, but the offer's there.”

god, he’s so fucking cute. how could you ever say no to him? “i'd like that a lot, matty, thank you,” you beam at him. “i think us working together is going to be a lot of fun.”

matty beams back just as enthusiastically. “i think so too.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #office nerd au #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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princesssmars · 9 months

Text

something something riding karlach until she sees stars. 18+.

karlach is about ninety percent sure her engine is about to fucking explode. and one hundred of that ninety percent is all your fault. its no secret that you're beautiful, annoyingly perceived as so by pretty much everyone who meets you. she could tell when you first walked up to her from across that branch without fear, later telling her you already knew she wasn't the murderous psychotic devil everyone made her out to be. you listened to her story, defended her against wyll, and she could tell the irregular tick in her chest wasn't just her being nervous about facing probable death at the hands of the blade of frontiers himself.

(although if she had to die at your hands she wouldn't much mind. which is normal. in hindsight, she could also remember her subtly flirting with you. also normal.)

and she's so happy that despite your shared bundle of traumas and saving-the-world problems you could find some respite in each other. she's also really happy that as sweetly as she treats you you also understand how fucking horny she is after ten years of absolutely no contact and then meeting someone who is just as crazy for her as she is for them.

which is how she got to the current moment, her nails digging into your hips as you straddle her hips and rock yourself into her, each subtle glaze of your clit against hers bringing a strangled moan out of her throat.

she's not above begging, especially to you, but everytime she finds the ability to speak without releasing sounds of ecstasy she loses it in seconds. everything she's feeling is too overwhelming in the bestways possible, your hand running through her hair, the other palming at her breasts and bringing out very new and very embarrassing squeaks out of her, your legs squeezed around her waist which just brings her attention and eyesight back to the brief view she can get of your pussy when you pull your hips back before bringing them forward again.

she must have been hyper focused on the space between your legs because your hand is bringing her head back up with a giggle, asking her where she went with a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, smiling when her eyes close and her lips fold like shes holding herself back, the exact opposite of what you want her to do.

"'m sorry. i just...fuck, soldier, you're killing me here." she gasps, bringing your hand to her chest to feel her newy tuned engine, the heat growing by the second as the blue flames flicker across her skin.

"gods, you really are burning up. we cant stop if you want-" you start to pull your hips off of hers when her claws dig in harder and simultaneously force you down while she thrusts up, loud moans leaving both of you that make you very glad you put a spell over the area inside her tent.

she keeps going, thrusting her cunt into yours while you struggle to keep up, wrappong your arms around her neck when she lies flat on her back and spreads both of your legs further apart, your shared wetness making the glide of your cunts so much easier and all the hotter.

"dont stop, please dont stop. i'll die if you do."

you take a few seconds to catch yourself when her noises take on a more whiny approach, little 'fuck fuck fuck-'s whispered into your ear as she bucks her hips like a madwoman. with a sadistic smile you adjust your body so your nipples can rub over hers the same time you bite into her neck and with a strangled cry she comes, continuing to buck her hips until you fall apart on top of her.

you can feel her breathing slowing down beneath you, the heat of her engine cooling down to a comfortable heat. you start to move your head up to give her a smile and check up before you feel her hips move again, the feeling of your clit being overstimulated nearly making you cry. when you do get to look ather she already has her eyes focused on you, heavy lidded as harsh breaths escape her mouth.

"its starting to look like you'll die if i dont."

"well, i always knew id go out with a bang..."

teehee

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #karlach #tav x karlach #karlach x reader #karlach smut #karlach x reader smut

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chrattenthusiast · 9 months

Note

hii can u do a smut femxmatt fic where they meet at a party and they like are kinda drunk and matt’s really flirty and touchy and they just end up fucking!! ty!!!

AN: yes but with a slight twist hope you aren't mad at me ;/ (This was inspired by a fanfic i read a while back, but i added a lil sprinkle) this is gonna be the last angsty smut I write for a while!!! the world is healing yay.

warnings: slightly rougher smut, alcohol, slightly toxic matt, not proofread, longish

AFTERPARTY - Matt sturniolo

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Entering the house, you found it filled with a thick haze of smoke, and intoxicated individuals occupied every corner. Taking it all in, you absorbed the chaotic atmosphere of the house party.

You spot the drinks lined up on the kitchen counter smiling instantly, your face lit up with anticipation as you instinctively reached for two shot glasses, intending to share the experience with your friend. Carefully, you poured the potent liquid into the glasses, aware of the complex emotions it always evoked within you - a simultaneous blend of affection and unease.

Taking a swig of the shot, a wince breaks across your face as you taste the acrid burn. Your friend, mirrors your grimace. Yet, undeterred by the bitter flavor, they reach for the bottle, repeating the action twice.

The room erupts with loud cheers from the other end of the house, where a spirited game of beer pong is in full swing. You see the excitement in your friend's eyes, knowing just how competitive she is. Urging her to join in, it takes a little convincing, but you assure her that you'll be perfectly fine on your own.

You take a moment to observe your surroundings in the house after pouring yourself a generous serving of alcohol. You make a deliberate choice not to mix it with anything, recognizing that doing so might result in an unsightly aftermath the next day.

Your phone buzzes, and with a sense of urgency, you swiftly reach for it. As your eyes scan the text message and the identity of the sender, your eyebrows knit together in a perplexed expression.

Matthew: you look so good, but you should slow down.

The text message verified the sensation of being watched. Instantly, your eyes scanned the surroundings, desperately seeking the presence that had captured your attention. Instantly locking eyes with him, you found him in the midst of individuals with whom you had limited conversations with. His gaze lowered as he held a drink cradled in his hand. You observed him while his eyes traced every contour of your body. Gradually, he raised the cup to his lips, taking a sip, his gaze remained fixed on your face.

The agreement between both of you was to keep things uncomplicated, though you disliked deceiving the ones you cared about, but deep down, you cherished the moments alone with him, away from others imposing their opinions on your 'relationship.'

He thought differently however, he wasn't planning on telling anyone about the two of you- although he was close to telling his two brothers about it- he liked the arrangement between the two of you, sneaking around, but mostly he wanted to 'protect your peace', away from his world of a sane but crazy fan base- he loved how the both of you pretend to not know of each other in public. but in private you were his, the same girl that always found yourself tangled under him

The sudden awareness loomed, casting a shadow over the quickly consumed alcohol's impact, and a wave of jealousy welled up inside. It bothered you that he seemed calm and indifferent, apparently unaffected by your need to be near him all the time. As usual, you pushed these emotions down, steering clear of further complicating the already complex situation. Yet, despite your efforts, the persistent realization lingered that this arrangement might not end well. In hindsight, you recognized that you should have probably considered the options before agreeing to such an arrangement.

Taking a sharp breath, you tucked your phone back into the waistband of your skirt, purposefully ignoring his text. Opting for a rapid consumption of a mix of assorted alcoholic drinks, you winced at the disagreeable taste. Turning your focus to the right, you caught sight of a guy in your peripheral vision. It took a moment to recognize his face.

"Hi," he greeted the instant he realized your gaze had landed on him.

"Hey," you replied, aiming to keep the conversation brief while maintaining a sense of respect.

And, of course, Matt observed from a distance. Despite once being enthusiastically engaged in the conversation,He now leaned back, adopting a manspreading position nodding as though still interested in the ongoing discussion. However, there was a noticeable tightening of his grip on his phone.

You nodded your head, forcing a smile at the guy, giving the appearance of genuine interest in his conversation. However, deep down, all you craved for was to escape the confines of the house, retreat to your bed, and wallow in the misery of your self-destruction. The weight of how you'd once again managed to sabotage everything for yourself loomed heavily on your mind.

Your attention shifted to your friend, and you couldn't help but notice the wide smile on her face. It seemed she was genuinely pleased to see you stepping outside your comfort zone and engaging in a conversation with the guy, her grin widening when she observed his arm touching your waist. Matt, too, noticed her reaction. He had heard about her in the extensive conversations you shared with him, during those moments when he played with your hair, absorbing every word you uttered. You spoke of her with deep love and adoration, and silently, he harbored a resentment that you couldn't speak of him in the same way to her. He cherished the importance of loved ones, and selfishly, he hated that he wasn't on your list.

What he hated even more was how you didn't pull away from the guy's touch, especially when he left lingering squeezes, emphasizing his words—just like he would. His gaze remained fixed on both of you, observing as the guy incessantly carried on with his conversation. Your irritation grew, and the breaking point came when he flagrantly crossed the line by violating your personal space- and is left dumbfounded when you cut him mid way muttering a poor excuse- speed walking away from him.

You step into what seems to be a hallway, choosing the first door and entering a dimly lit, spacious bathroom. Your hands find their way to the edges of the sink, and you lean down, allowing the exhaustion of the events to wash over you. The bathroom door opens and shuts, prompting your eyes to snap toward the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with Matt.

Leaning against the bathroom door with lowered eyes, Matt takes in your appearance. His gaze is fixated on your skirt, noticing how it's slightly hunched up due to you leaning over the sink.

"you get my text earlier?" he asks, returning his gaze to your face.

"Yeah, I got it. I was pretty occupied, though," you reply, turning your body to face him

"yeah? I couldn't tell" he replies laced with sarcasm.

You nod in response, and he begins to walk toward you. Instinctively, you move backward, feeling your lower back hit the counter. His arms trap you on both sides, eliminating any distance between you.

"you avoiding me now? Is that what's happening?"He says, leaning down to meet you at eye level.

The close proximity makes it a bit challenging for you to breathe properly. So, you turn your head to the side, suddenly finding the patterns on the wall much more interesting, despising how calm and collected he appeared- how much control he has over your mind, despite numerous reassurances from him. You can't help but wonder if the only time you get to be intimate is away from others because you question whether he's more concerned about being seen with you than genuinely "protecting your peace."

"Stop that," he says, aware that your mind is racing at full speed.

Your eyes finally meet his gaze, and it's unclear how long the intense stare has lasted. Matt is the first to break eye contact, stepping back. His hands move to the bathroom lock, twisting the metal and securing it.

"Classic," you mutter, still grappling with your self-sabotaging thoughts.

"what was that?" he says

"we're not doing anything in here " you reply ignoring his question

"Who said we were going to? We're just having a conversation"

"you look pretty" he continues due to your silence

"yeah? I've heard" Confidently fueled by the liquor, You aimed to provoke him, fully aware that he had seen you talking to the guy. What added to the satisfaction was knowing he wasn't pleased that you entertained the conversation, you turn your body to face the mirror again. Purposefully grinding your ass against his groin, already feeling the hardness.

"You having a change of heart, I thought we couldn't do anything?" he says,pressing you further against the counter. The cold marble makes you shiver.

You tilt your head to the side as you feel his hands brush up against the back of your thighs, making their way to the skimpy material of your underwear, smiling once he felt how soaked you were

lifting the bottom of your skirt to rest on your lower back he delivers a harsh slap to your ass, making you smile at how quick he is to give you what you want.

His hands grab your hair, bunching it up and pushing it to the side. Sneaking his hands around your torso, he plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

" you want this? you gotta be quiet though might be hard for you huh " he snarked

"fuck you" you reply annoyed with his snarky comment

"yeah i'm sure you'd like that, now wouldn't you" he pulls you flush against his chest,placing a gentle kiss to your temple, his hand palming your wetness, making you lean further onto his chest, your head settling in the crook of his neck

"Always so needy for me aren't you sweetheart" he whispers causing you to meet his gaze through the mirror. "I got what you want right here" he adds pressing himself harder against you

he pushes your underwear to the side, circling your swollen clit causing you to grip the edges of the sink harder, his hands make his way to the small of your back wanting you to arch further into him.

His fingers part from your entrance, causing a whine to escape your lips at the lack of his touch, You hear the sound of his belt being undone, and that sound alone intensifies the warmth between your thighs. you look at him through the polished glass as his hands make his way to your ass, grabbing your backside spreading it apart slightly giving him a full view of your wetness.

He positions himself at your entrance, guiding the tip of his shaft along the slickness of your wetness in an up and down motion , all the while maintaining eye contact and loving the needy expression you wear.

You start to turn around to beg him to fill you, but your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as he thrusts himself completely inside you, your head falls back in sheer delight, finally experiencing the sensation you've yearned for throughout the past couple of weeks. his thrusts are soft wanting you to get used to him

At that moment, he withdraws entirely, leaving just the tip inside you and then thrusting fully inside you without any warning. This elicits small moans from your lips, pulling you closer to him, and his grip around your waist tightens. The pace of his thrusts quicken, and you make every effort to stifle any sounds

Your fingers brush against his hands wanting to gain stability and comfort from his touch with him plunging inside you, it's a pleasurable ache, so intense that tears well up in your eyes. His lips move to tenderly kiss the top of your head, seeking to reciprocate the affectionate touch you crave. He gently squeezes your waist. In that moment. This action alone prompts a recollection towards the person who did the same to you just minutes ago, and his gaze narrows toward that specific spot.

his grip on that spot hardens, causing you to slightly wince knowing that it'll bruise later, you turn to look at Matt, but his fingers grasp your chin forcing you to look at yourself taking everything he gave you, his grip never leaves your face and you moan at the change in pace. It was overwhelming. and a smile was plastered on his face at the way he was breaking you, leaving you dumbfounded

"do you know who you belong to " he asks, his cheek coming into contact with yours. his soft hair brushes against your skin, pushing himself deeper inside you

"You matt"

" You positive ? " he asks moving your head to look at him, forcing eye contact while his thrusts get sloppier but deeper,not slowing down his pace, the feeling in your belly worsens.

"yes I promise"

His hips thrust against your backside, and you instinctively tighten around him, wanting to avert your gaze from his compelling eyes. You resist giving in to the impression that he has complete control over you. However, you find it impossible to look away as his firm grip on your face prevents any movement. Your hands grip his arm in a pleading gesture, silently urging him to allow you to finally reach climax.

He hates how delicate and kind you are, feeling an overwhelming need to protect you from any potential harm. He hates that he might be the cause of your emotional distance, fueled by the fear that his lifestyle could be too much for you to handle.

"don't get all shy now, you were confident when you let him touch you remember?"

"I'm sorry," you respond immediately, but he knows you're not to blame. Despite not being officially together, he doesn't care; in his mind, you belong to him, and he's determined to prove it. His thrusts show no signs of slowing down, and your hands instinctively move to the back of his head for support, irregardless of the tight grip he has around you

"If you ever let another man touch you the way that I do, you'll pay. got it?" you nod unable to articulate a response as your mind remains blank.

"Say it"

"yes matt" you choked.

he attaches his lips onto yours, for the first time in weeks and it shows how much you've missed each other, it was rough enough to bruise your lips His hand releases its hold on your waist, finding its way to your neck, exerting subtle pressure. He teeth delicately tugs at the bottom of your lip before letting go of his grip, ultimately granting you the freedom to lean fully against his chest.

he leans his head against yours, wanting to be as close to you letting you relax for a second until he's back at it, his fingers make their way to your swollen bud. The most audible sob escapes your lips as his fingers trace in circular motions, gently pinching the swollen area with his thumb and pointer finger.

"fuck i c-cant matt"

“you’re taking me so well baby, just a little longer for me " he replies to your plea, grabbing your hips to push back against his length, Handling you firmly, his fingers persist in vigorously rubbing your bud in circular motions, You thrash around him, overwhelmed by the intensity, but his grip around you prevents any escape,

"tell me how bad you want it " he says slowing down his thrusts, wanting you to suffer a little as his fingers skillfully work around the sensitive area, making you pant with the pleasant sensation. You squirm in response, caught between the pleasure and the firm grip that holds you in place.

"Really bad matt please" You cry in frustration, mascara staining your cheeks as you let the tears fall.

"come for me sweetheart" he encourages

Without a moment's hesitation, you comply with his command, and you feel yourself release all over him messily, Matt's hands swiftly move to your mouth muffling your sounds.

"That's it baby let it all out for me "

Your grip around his shaft is so intense that his body can only endure so much. His arms envelop every available inch of your body as he grapples to suppress his own noises.

you feel his release fill you, mixed with yours slowly spilling out from inside you and the sight alone cause him to harden. He gazes at your disheveled appearance, giving you continuous slow thrust, that drag out your orgasm, with smudged mascara running down your eyes and tousled hair. you may feel like a mess, to him, you appear vulnerable, and he likes that.

"you okay?" he asks

you curse him inwardly for consistently diverting your focus from reality. Both of you understand that this unhealthy pattern could lead to a disastrous outcome if left unaddressed. If either of you could set aside fear and selfishness, the nights wouldn't be consumed by your overthinking and He wouldn't harbor resentment towards those who are able to openly express their affections for you.

"yeah, you okay?" you ask him

A chance to resolve the indifference between you two presented itself, and he silently contemplated the options. The desire to admit his true feelings for you lingered, but the overwhelming fear held him back. He acknowledged that one day he might gather the courage, but for now, he selfishly preferred to keep things behind closed doors. He knew that he was being selfish, yet the thought of having you in any capacity seemed preferable to the prospect of losing you completely. Yet again, what started as a complicated situation only deepened in complexity.

"yeah" he replies leaning his head against yours, as he began to pull out from inside you slowly.

He hurriedly dresses, securing his belt, you make your way to the door, preparing to unlock it. Just as you're about to, he gently grabs your arm, pulling you close and placing his hand on your waist. "Are we really okay?" he asks, searching your eyes with a mix of concern and longing.

"mhm, i'll see you around?" swiftly, you reply and proceed to unlock the door The grip Matt has on your waist loosens, and the subtle detachment tugs at your heartstrings, leaving a slow ache.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

taglist: @loveesiren @christinarowie332 @daddyslilchickenfingers @mangosrar @kenzieiskoolaid @sturnphilia @lucvly @recklesssturniolo @mattslolita @ratatioulle

#matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo imagines #sturniolo fanfic

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dduane · 2 months

Note

Hey! Just wanted to drop in and let you know that my Star Trek Book Club is reading our way though Spock’s World right now! I love the Horta crewmember so much. Would be cool to hear any thoughts you have on the book, as its writer!

Sure!

Work on the book started while @petermorwood and I were still roaming around the UK, trying to figure out where we wanted to live.

It was around then that Pocket Books decided that the success of their first Star Trek novels as paperbacks suggested they might want to try a hardcover and see how it went. Up until that point I'd written three Trek novels for them—The Wounded Sky and My Enemy, My Ally, and with Peter, The Romulan Way—and as far as I can tell, a combination of strong sales figures and very positive reviews led the editors at Pocket to choose me to do the first hardcover.

(Adding a cut here, because this runs longish. Caution: contains severe weather, peripatetic writers, [offstage] Highland cattle, and [because hindsight is always 20/20...] author idiocy.)

If I remember correctly, the go-to-hardcover decision was made in 1987. The book's outlining would have happened in the winter of that year, while we were staying in Scotland: the post over here talks about that a littie.

Not very long after that we made our where-to-live decision, headed to Ireland, and moved into a little rented terrace house in north county Wicklow, not far from Annie McCaffrey's place. Once we were installed there, I started work on the first draft of Spock's World.

This, though, is where a tragedy almost occurred.

Electric-power infrastructure can sometimes be an issue in rural areas of Ireland. And one night, in the middle of a thunderstorm, the post-top transformer nearest us in our little housing estate was struck by lightning. The ensuing power surge (or just possibly an EMP associated with it: jury's still out...) fried my computer.

Fortunately, most of my working disks were okay. But the last 40K+ words of the novel survived only in fragmentary form... and when I tried to reassemble those chapters from the backups, I discovered that the backups were corrupt. And the book was due at the publisher—by which I mean printed and FedExed to NY: no one was equipped back then to deal with emailed manuscript files—in two weeks.

Needless to say, things around the house then got a bit frantic. I wound up having to completely rewrite nearly the entire back half of the book from memory, as I did not have a printout. (So you'll understand that for the last few decades, hard copy [or PDFs] and backups, and backups of backups, have become something of an obsession for me. These days I use Backblaze, with which I'm extremely pleased: it runs constantly in the background, updating things in realtime as you do, and has numerous smart ways to recover your material if you need it.)

At any rate, my memory's fortunately fairly good for material I've just recently written. And I have to say that in retrospect this whole escapade may have been a blessing in disguise... as I strongly believe that the rewritten material was significantly better than in the draft that would originally have gone to the publisher. The printout went to the publisher just in time to hit that particular production deadline. The only thing really messed up in the aftermath was my back, which gave me grief for months afterward. My advice on this count: never write 40K+ words in two weeks in a straight-backed chair. :/

Anyway, there was a happy ending when the book came out: it spent eight weeks on the Times list, which was nice. (In pretty good company, too...) :)

And shortly Pocket asked me to do another hardcover. So that was nice too.

Anyway, that's the tale.

Hope this has helped! And give the book club my best. :)

#Spock's World #Diane Duane #a tale with ALMOST angst

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modern-gremlin · 4 months

Text

Morning Errands | Sebastian SDV — Married Life 🔞

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pairing: Sebastian (SDV) x afab!reader

Summary: You need Sebastian's help with beginning-of-season errands. If only there was a way you could "wake him up".

Tags: Husband!Sebastian, Smut, established relationship, detailed descriptions of sex, a dash of fluff. NSFW Tags below the cut.

Word Count: 2,900 (I did it, a fic under 5,000 words lol) A/N: Fun Fact — this idea started as a non-SDV related adult animation concept I was in early development of. I unfortunately do not have a lot of time for animating things anymore, so it's definitely more feasible to write it down. PLUS, I just love quickly shooting these stories out — better spat out here than rotting in my brain!!

It was really fun to rewrite it to fit the Stardew Valley world; I think it just gives me so much more to work with. Especially when it comes to writing about the world in detail. (and I get to feed my Sebastian brainworms <33) Hope you enjoy the read xoxo

NSFW Tags: morning sex, foreplay (dry humping), some dirty talk (mostly teasing), oral (male receiving), overstimulation, creampie

"Seb? Seeeeebb, it's 6:40," you say softly with a gentle shake of his arm, "we gotta get going." Still unwilling to move from his comfortable spot on the bed, Sebastian stifles a sleepy groan in response. It's always been hard to wake him up — that's something you knew even before you married him. Working freelance comes with the blessing and curse of setting your own work schedule, which means late night cramming sessions are a normal occurrence. You don't really blame him for wanting to sleep in, but today, he promised to help you with your ever-growing list of morning chores.

You run your fingers through his hair, lightly brushing the dark strands off his cheek with the back of your fingers. He just looks so peaceful when he's asleep; it's really such a shame to wake him up like this. Especially when he wraps his arm around you to cuddle against your thigh. It's almost tempting to sink yourself back into his arms and shut the whole world away under the protection of your shared bed covers. Almost — but you know better than to underestimate your beginning-of-season errands. It doesn't help that you also agreed to host a family dinner with Robin and Demetrius this evening. So much to do, so little time. In hindsight, you wish you planned this all a little better.

With a little more force this time, you try to shake him awake. "Mmph… just a few more minutes…" he mumbles while releasing his arms from your thigh, now lying on his back. At least he's able to get a few words out. That's a good sign, you think to yourself. You head toward your bathroom, hoping that by the time you're done brushing your teeth he'll be sitting upright. Maybe.

A soft, cool breeze enters the small opening of your window as you pass through the hallway. It's remarkable how quickly the seasons change in the valley. From your view in the bathroom, you can catch a glimpse of your summer crops, now reduced to wilted clumps in the soil. You'll definitely need Seb's help with this today. You take a little extra time to brush your teeth and wash your face, trying to buy him time to get up. He's gotta be awake by now, right?

You're not surprised to see him still splayed on the bed, eyes just barely fluttering at the sound of your footsteps entering the room. "Seb, it's almost 7 now. I really need your help," you plead sweetly, hoping the cute tone you've adopted would prompt him to move with more haste. He just smiles and offers a curt, "Mhm," in response, eyes still shut. Wow, he's really out of it, huh? You might need to switch strategies.

If you married Sebastian knowing that he's not exactly a morning person, he should also count on the fact that you're always up for a little bit of mischief — because now, you've got a plan that's basically foolproof. Creeping up to the bed, you slowly plant a knee on each side of his body to gently straddle his lap. With your chest pressed against his, you place kisses on his face. "Sebby, come on" you whisper tenderly into his ear, "you can get up for me, can't you?" He lets out an amused huff out of his nose and wraps an arm around the small of your back. He's definitely more awake now, but perhaps a little more provocation will do the trick.

You kiss along his jaw down to the side of his neck, playing with the collar of his t-shirt with your fingers. His eyes lazily open when you stop, now meeting his gaze from where your cheek rests on his chest. "Morning, sleepyhead. Remember those errands I need help with?" you tease. He lovingly smirks at your remark, placing a hand on your head to gently stroke your hair.

"Mm… what time is it?" he asks in a raspy voice. You answer his question with a light pinch of his cheek,

"Probably seven, by now. We're running a little late, y'know?"

The fact that 7AM is considered late to you is something he's still getting used to. If left to his own devices, he'd absolutely sleep the day away and have his breakfast at 3PM. Yet, he tries his best to slip into your daily schedule because that'd mean he'd get more time to see your face throughout the day, wouldn't it? But you know what they say, old habits die hard, and right now his old habits have him basically glued to the bed.

"What are the chances I can convince you to push these errands to tomorrow?" he asks cheekily.

"Hm… slim to none," you reply. "With the dinner party today and the fair coming up in a few weeks, it's gonna be really tough to–" You notice his eyes droop as you speak. "Seb?" He startles awake at the sudden call of his name.

"M' sorry, babe. Promise I'm not doing it on purpose," Sebastian rubs his eyes and yawns. "It's just... hard to stay awake."

With a smile, you shake your head and sigh, "what am I gonna do with you?"

"Hm…I don't know. What are you going to do with me?" He places his hands onto your back again, looking down at you with a suggestive smirk.

Leaning in closer to his face, just barely grazing your mouth over his, you whisper, "I might have a few ideas."

Placing your hands around his neck, thumbs resting against his jaw, you pull him closer into a deep kiss. He tightens the grip around your waist in response, pulling you closer toward him. God, if he wasn't awake a few minutes ago, he definitely is waking up now. He takes your mouth into his, enveloping your lips entirely and gently brushing them with his tongue. You can feel your pulse quickening as your breasts press firmly against him; an urge slowly building and itching at you from below. Unable to contain yourself, you lower your hips to grind against the thick bulge beneath you. You can't help but smile at how hard he already is; grinning against his tongue.

You pull away to shift your weight onto his clothed cock, gasping at how it rubs against you. "At least one part of you is up," you jeer, rocking slow movements against his length. He muses at your words and brushes his hair away from his face, granting him a better view of your body on top of his.

"Can you blame me?" he smiles, his sleepy eyes scanning your form. Running thumbs underneath the hem of your shirt, he gingerly lifts up the fabric to reveal your bare chest steadily bouncing at the rhythm your clothed pussy rubs against him. "Fuck me," he gasps breathily, "what a way to wake up."

His exasperation makes you laugh, motivating you to grind your hips with more fervour. "I'm glad this is working," you admit, "because we have just– so much– to do…" Your words are broken up with every sway of your hips. He pulls your shirt off your arms as you continuously pleasure yourself with his dick, moaning and creating a wet spot on his boxers. He just watches as you use him, in absolute awe by how your body reacts to his. His head slowly falls backward onto the pillow, closing his eyes to take in the stimulation. Then suddenly, you stop.

His eyes dart open again at your weight being lifted off his lap, ready to pull you back onto him. You move his hands away and lower your face to his lap. "Nuh uh. You gotta wake up," you chastise before pulling down his boxers. He groans breathily when his thick cock springs free, smacking his toned stomach from the speed of your movements. Without warning, you spit on his tip and run your palm against his shaft, causing him to tense at the sudden sensation. For a while, he can only stare at you with furrowed brows and complete admiration.

"I should sleep in more often," he teases while grinning at his own remark. But soon his sly grin is replaced by a strained grit because you wrap your fingers around his fat length, stroking him at an unfair pace. He perches himself up by the elbows, watching you fist his cock from base to tip. "Fuck, baby. You gotta slow down or ill–" You lower yourself to lick his balls, dragging your way up the shaft.

"Can't, Sebby," you say, stopping at the tip. "Can't have you falling asleep on me." Taking his length in your hand, you guide his cock into the warmth of your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head.

He instinctually places his hands on the top of your head as he throws back his own. The bed gently shakes at the bobbing of your head, catching and swallowing his length into your throat. It's all so sudden; so frustratingly sexy that he can hardly take it. With the hand that grips at your hair, he tries to pry you off him — hoping to gain some reprieve. But this only invites you to suck on him with more excitement. It's just too hard to resist when he praises you in his gravelly, morning voice. "Holy fuck, babe. You're too good at tha–" You can feel his cock twitch in your mouth as he pushes you away from him; he must be close.

With a gentle tug of your hair, you give in and pull away. You and Sebastian heave heavily, the latter trying to regain his composure. He's usually the one to make you melt underneath him, so you can't help but marvel at his flustered expression. "You awake now?" you triumph with a mischievous smile. He picks himself up to stare into you; the look in his eyes tell you that you're in for it now.

Releasing his grip, he sits himself upright and leans toward you. "Hm, yeah. I think I am," he says while returning your expression, "turn around."

Without a question, you turn yourself around, resting your chest on the bed while lifting your ass toward him. You wiggle your hips tauntingly in his direction until you're greeted by a firm smack — a small yelp escapes your lips from the impact. "So impatient," he chides while soothing the sting with his palm, "well, you got what you wanted. I'm up." He slaps your ass again before leaning behind you, pressing his chest to your back to whisper into your ear, "unless…there's something else you wanted."

Just the sound of his condescending tone sends shivers down your spine, and he knows it. He hooks a finger by your dripping slit and tugs at your underwear, causing the fabric to bundle tightly against your clit. All semblances of your mischief has disappeared, vanished with his scolding and now you're moaning his name into the covers. You can tell he's enjoying every lewd noise you make, because now he's tugging at your panties harder, trying to elicit a bigger reaction.

"Well, now that I'm awake, let's go over our to-do list, hm?" He releases your underwear, only to slip his cock beneath the fabric and vigorously rub your clit.

"Seb… I can't–" you plead, eager to feel him plunge inside you. He places his hands on your waist, stroking soothing circles with his thumbs against your back.

"Don't worry, baby. You'll get it, after we go through the list. Okay?" he coos.

Stumbling your words in between moans, you begin listing the day's tasks. "W-we… need to clear off the crops…and prepare the fields."

"Mhm," he hums while wetting his tip along your slit. "What's next?"

"Clear off the weeds in front of the b-baaaarn–" You words shake as he teases your entrance with his tip, gliding it to catch your slick. "Then go to Pierre's… to pick up ingredients for tonight." Your legs quiver as he prods your wet cunt, not fully entering.

"Is there…anything else?" Sebastian meaninglessly asks, his own voice getting shaky in anticipation. He doesn't really care what's on the to-do list, not at the moment at least. No doubt he'll have to ask about it later, because all he cares about now is making you beg to be railed.

"We might also need to–" This time, he slowly pushes his cock through your wet folds, slipping himself inch by inch into your cunt until his thighs are flush against you. His size fills you entirely, stopping any words from escaping your mouth.

He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your pussy clench around him, still gritting his teeth to continue, "We might need to what? I didn't… catch the last part." He nearly pulls himself out entirely while waiting for your response.

"We…might need to–" You breathe in heavily while his dick pulses inside you. "Seb, please," you beg in a petulant tone. Your cries are so needy and desperate, but you don't care. There's no pride between you two, only true love and the aching desire to be fucked. Lucky for you, the feeling is mutual. Deciding he's equally impatient, he fucks his full length back into you.

"I think I get the gist," he says with a satisfied smile before plunging himself in and out of your cunt. He so badly wants to praise how well you took his teasing, but he's almost completely breathless. Lost for words at how tight you are, how well your pretty pussy takes him, and utterly smitten by the way you moan his name between thrusts. He wants to pound more of them out of you — a reminder to everyone in town that you've chosen him and he's the one fucking you the way you deserve.

Really, this is just one of the many moments he's reminded just how lucky he is. He feels so lucky that you decided to move to this boring town. So lucky that you stuck around despite his icy exterior, and miraculously lucky that you fell in love with him. Now he gets to wake up beside you everyday, fuck you like no one else can, and navigate life's mundanities with the person he loves. Morning errands be damned; nothing ever feels like a chore now that you're his.

He pounds you harder now — as if he's trying to bury his intentions deep inside you so you can feel his gratitude. Because even all his sly remarks and bullied thrusts are just another way of praising you; another way to tell you he loves you without saying it out loud. Your pussy clenches down on him so tightly, grasping onto his praises like your life depended on it. Ready to cum all over his cock to confirm that you feel the same. But even if your cunt wasn't being obvious, your words certainly were.

"Seb– it feels so. Fucking. Good," you whine in between thrusts. You try to warn him of your impending burst, but the arch of your back signals your orgasm much faster than you can speak. Backing your ass further into him, you accept his length against your cervix until you feel your release. You convulse around him, whispering thank you's under your breath. The only sound reaching his ears are your muffled cries of pleasure and the squeaking of the bed. He fucks you through your orgasm, but even after you come down from the high, he's still not done.

He rails your stimulated pussy over and over again, causing you to reach out your hand behind you to slow him down. "S-sebastian, I just came. Slower, it's so f-fast"

Grabbing your arm by the wrist, he plows deeper into you. "Sorry, baby. Can't," he says breathily, "We got too much to do today, remember?" You turn your head back to look over your shoulder and flash him a blissed-out smile, silently laughing at his twist of your words.

Reaching around to your front, he rubs circles around your puffy clit while he fucks his last few, sloppy blows inside you. "So close, babe. M'so fucking…close" he says with gritted teeth. His movements on your bud stokes the fire within you, threatening to shatter you once again. With one last buck of his hips against yours, he shoots his load deep inside your pussy, filling you to the brim with in white. He groans profanities as he sputters small thrusts into you. The warmth of his semen hitting against you is the last straw, sending you into your second orgasm of the day.

Dropping your wrist from his grip, he leans forward onto your back, pulling out slightly causing his cum to spill out of you. You breathe in unison, heavily and laboured as you try to regain your bearings. Maybe it's been ten minutes or maybe it was an hour, but you both lay beside each other, unbothered by the time that's passing you by.

When you both come down to your senses, your eyes lock onto his and suddenly you're both chuckling at the morning's happenings. With a bright-eyed smile, he takes your palm to rest on his cheek. Placing a kiss on your knuckles, he greets you to start the day.

"Good morning, honey."

#sdv sebastian x reader #stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley sebastian #sdv sebastian #stardew valley smut #sdv smut #smut #stardew valley fanfic #stardew smut #also I finished this super late in the morning #I couldn't sleep #I hope it makes sense #grem-writes

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